Sirius stops in front of his door, wringing his hands. He can feel the concern radiating from Auguste, but it bounces uselessly off of his skin.

"Sirius," he says quietly, placing a hand on Sirius' shoulder. Shaking his head, Sirius pull away from the warmth of his touch. He feels sick. "I'm fine," he says shakily, "let's just... Remus must be waiting."

He reaches forward to open the door, but it flies open before he can. A pair of grey eyes stare at him, wide with hope. Sirius can't hold that gaze.

Regulus' mouth opens, then closes again.

"No?" He asks, looking at Auguste, and then at the small cardboard box in his hands.

"Why don't we go inside?" Auguste responds with a tight smile. Sirius watches Regulus' face fall. Regulus opens the door a bit wider, letting them inside. He grabs Sirius' arm to stop him. "He's in his room," Regulus says. Sirius nods his head absently, his mind only focused on one thing.

One person.

Sirius carefully turns the doorknob, nudging the door to his bedroom open. Remus is on his bed, sitting with his legs crossed, eyes glued to Sirius' copy of Teenage Depression in Mandrakes : Causes, Symptoms and How You Can Help.

How fitting.

Sirius swallows thickly as his eyes glide over Remus' lowered face, the width of the forehead, the pale pink scars on his face that only barely avoid his eyes... his eyes that carry all the goodness of the universe in them, but also holds such aching in between the warm brown of their irises and the dark of their pupils.

Slowly, Remus raises his head, his face bright with hope. But it vanishes in a flash, the rosy cheeks turning white, and the smile on his lips dying out before it can even appear. He puts the book away, his lips parting for a shaky inhale as he stands. "Sirius?" He asks quietly.

"I'm sorry," Sirius whispers, rushing forward and into Remus' arms, pressing their bodies close together. "I'm so, so sorry, Remus."

This is wrong. Sirius isn't the one who needs to be held and comforted. But he breathes it in anyway, the soft smell of fabric conditioner on Remus' new clothes that James brought with him. He pushes himself into the warmth of Remus' skin, sinks into the feel of his warm palms on his back.

"It's okay, it's okay if you couldn't find her," Remus whispers in his ear, his lips so close to Sirius' skin that his breath tickles Sirius' ear.

How can he say it? How can he watch Remus hurt even more?

"We can go again," Remus continues to say, holding Sirius by his shoulders, one hand in his hair. "I'll... I'll come with you."

Sirius squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head against the fabric of Remus' jumper. "No," he says, pulling away so that his words won't get muffled. "She's... I think..."

Sirius watches Remus. He watches the way his words draw a small crease on Remus' forehead, forcing a sharp inhale down his nostrils and casting a shadow over his eyes.

"She's dead?" He asks, and the very room trembles in time with his voice. Sirius looks away, but Remus grips his shoulders painfully tight. "Did you find her?" His voice cracks.

One small tear in the corner of his eye. Sirius watches it spill over his cheek.

He can't speak, so he nods.

"Where is she?" That's all that gets to come out of Remus' lips before his throat closes off in a sob, his shoulders lurching forward as it rips through his body. His hands go lax on Sirius' shoulders. Sirius brings Remus' head on to his shoulder, tracing the skin on the back of his head, right above the nape of his neck. He wants to turn his head and press his lips on Remus' temple.

Neither of them can speak, so they hold on to each other instead. When the cold drops fall on his shoulder, Sirius can't tell whose tears they are. But those loud, heart-wrenching sobs, they fall only from Remus' mouth. Sirius purses his lips together and waits for it to stop.

He waits and waits, and he waits for so long.

But slowly, Remus' sobs turn quieter, less forceful. His grip on Sirius loses its strength, his head slowly moves away. Sirius lets him go, quickly wiping his cheeks before Remus can see his own tears.

"Where is she?" Remus repeats, his voice hoarse.

"We found," Sirius bites his lip as he tries to find words to express himself. "Bones." He doesn't want to say a small body burnt so bad it looked like a log.

He winces at the memory of what he saw earlier, the charred lump of what was once such a loveable bundle of absolute joy. He clamps his hand over his mouth, forcing his revulsion out of his mind. He already vomited twice. Once as soon as he saw it, and once on the way back home.

He was so glad that he wasn't alone, he could've never brought himself to touch it. Or even look at it for more than half a second.

He wants to think of it never again.

Later that evening, the four boys carry the box to a corner of Sirius' garden. The three Pureblood boys have trouble digging a pit in the hard soil, but they pull it off with the help of some magic. Trembling, Remus lowers the box into it.

They fix a wooden sign over the little mound, only bearing the name Mavis.

"It's okay," Regulus says sadly, pressing himself into Remus' side and pressing his head on Remus' shoulder.

"We can get you a new cat," Auguste offers, smiling gently. Regulus smiles up at Remus through his tears. "That's a good idea, right, Remus?"

Remus gives a short nod, biting his lip harshly.

"We'll make it two new cats," Auguste adds.

"Or three. Or fifty," Regulus wipes Remus' cheeks. "As many as we can keep in our house. Okay?"

"Okay." Remus manages a small smile.

Too caught up in trying to find a ray of light amidst their worries, none of the three boys notice how oddly quiet Sirius is, like the calm right before a storm.

***

Author's Note

Two things.

01) I don't remember if I ever mentioned Remus' eye colour. If I did, I most probably said green. Tell me if you remember, please.

02) I only wrote this part to make myself cry.