"Sirius, you can't just go around getting into fights with people," Remus sighs, running a hand through his hair. What Sirius revealed about Peter has left him cold and overwhelmed, but that's not his biggest concern. Not even close, no.

"See, that's where you're wrong, Lupin," Sirius grins, pulling his legs up on the bed and crossing them. "I can do that, and I damn well did."

Remus looks at him, exasperated. "But it... it won't fix anything, Sirius. All it's done is given you these bruises. Just because you can do it, doesn't mean you should."

"It gave them bruises too. I even knocked a tooth out of that scum Pettigrew."

A chill runs down Remus' spine at how quickly Sirius' voice changes from light-hearted and casual to dripping with such venom that their skin might as well burn as his words come out. He swallows, realising that he hasn't really seen Sirius angry, ever. Biting his lip, Remus places a hand on Sirius' knee.

Hesitant.

"It doesn't matter, Sirius. It's not right," he says quietly.

What he doesn't say out loud is that he feels sorry not for Peter Pettigrew or the other man Sirius talked to, but actually for Sirius, for those patches of colour on his skin.

"Then what is right, Remus?" Sirius' voice is sharp, and Remus has to remind himself that this anger is not meant for him. But it's still not easy to bear it. "Waiting for the Ministry to investigate? Do you not know what they'll come out and say? They'll say it's inconclusive, no suspects confirmed, no witnesses." Sirius laughs bitterly at the end, his hands curling into tight fists on his lap.

Silence follows, thick and sticky and so overwhelming that Remus has to break it.

"You could've got hurt," he says, voice even quieter. His last argument. His only argument.

More silence, but different this time. The silence of the raw weight of words sinking in. Remus waits, a hand on Sirius' knee and eyes looking down at his bare feet, toes digging into the carpet, trying to get a grip. He waits for Sirius to reply.

"I don't care," Sirius finally says, but there's no force behind those words. It comes out as a weak protest, not a tough affirmation. "I don't care if it's for you."

If it's for you.

For you.

For me.

Remus looks up, shaking his head slowly. "But I do," he says, moving his hand from Sirius' knee to his face, brushing his fingers over the skin that was reddened into a bruise just minutes ago. "Just because it can be healed, doesn't mean you should get hurt."

Sirius draws back with a sigh. "Why are you so unaffected by this?" He says, standing up. Remus stares at his back as he walks to the window. "Does it really mean so little to you that they... they've ruined so much? Do you not want to fight back? To... to... I don't know, do something?" Sirius stares outside into the stormy night for a moment, and then turns to face Remus again. He leans back against the windowpane. "We can't just sit by and do nothing, Remus."

That we, coming from Sirius, makes Remus feel something so delightful, something so ill-fitted given this moment, but something Remus is willing to welcome with his arms wide open. This is so not the time for this, but it blossoms on his face as a small smile which he quickly hides away behind a straight face before Sirius can see.

"There's no one who wants to do something more than I do, Sirius," he says. "but that something is not vigilante justice. Two wrongs don't make a right."

Sirius deflates a little, his shoulders going lax as he admits defeat. "Fine. I won't beat anyone up again," he says, and it makes Remus laugh, how childlike he can be. "But if the Ministry doesn't punish every single one of those rotten shit-fucks, I swear I'll-"

"You swear you'll nothing, Sirius. Absolutely nothing. We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sleep." Smiling lightly to himself, Remus moves to his bed and slides under the covers, sighing at their blissful warmth. 

Rolling his eyes, Sirius pushes himself off of the window. "Of course, can't have Sleeping Beauty turn into Sleep-Deprived Ugly," he mumbles, making Remus laugh again. "Good night, Sirius," he calls as Sirius disappears into the bathroom. 

Moments later, he returns in fresh clothes, climbs into bed and switches the light off. With the sudden darkness providing the cover he needed, Remus falls into a deep train of thought. Sleep only comes when the sun is beginning to rise, and his last coherent thought is that no matter what, he is a monster still.

As he's always been.

***

The next evening, 13, Nuvel Drive houses the first meeting of what James Potter will after some time fondly name the Justice for Remus Club. Not the most creative name out there, as Sirius Black will be quick to point out, but Regulus Black will be just as quick to point out that that's quite rich, coming from someone who named Remus Lupin's potion shop Lupin's Potions. As always, it's Lily Evans who will have to break the ensuing fight up, but not before asking why Sirius would expect anything more from James Potter, who sells herbs and miscellaneous Wizarding supplies in a shop called Potter's Herbs and Misc.

But that is a story for later.

Five boys sit at the dining table, quiet. Five mugs of tea keep them company, pushing faint wisps of steam out into the air. No one seems to know what to say.

"Are you two just going to daydream about each other, or can we please know why you went around beating people up in the middle of the night?" Regulus finally asks, eyes fixed on his brother. Remus feels his cheeks heat up, and his gaze fixes itself on his mug of tea. How interesting, this dark liquid.

Why did James have to sit right in front of him? God, is this embarrassing.

"I went to see Peter Pettigrew," Sirius starts. Remus doesn't raise his head.

"Peter Pettigrew? From Hogwarts?" James asks. "I remember him... didn't know you were friends," he says. 

"Because we're not," Sirius says with force. James raises his eyebrows.

"I knew something was off about him," Auguste mutters.

"Wait, I'm confused," Regulus speaks up. "I have no idea who this is, give me some background."

"Peter Pettigrew, 20 years old, Gryffindor, wants to be an Auror but his mom won't let him, has pretty eyes, really scared of dogs, rumoured to be a virgin-"

"James, what the hell?" Regulus groans, "Why do you know all of that?"

"Because all he does is gossip," Auguste speaks up for the first time.

"It's not gossip," James glares at him, "it's called keeping up with the community. You'd know more about it if you weren't so busy being too pretty for normal people." He rolls his eyes, making air quotes around normal people.

"You're really in no position to talk about knowing things when you clearly don't even know what a hairbrush is," Auguste retaliates, throwing a less than unimpressed glance at James' always unruly hair.

Remus watches them with wide eyes. His eyes flicker over to Sirius, who seems nothing less than thoroughly amused as he watches the exchange, chin resting on his hand. Sirius turns his head just at that moment, and like it's the most normal thing in the world, throws Remus a wink. Remus feels his face heat up again, and quickly looks down.

Bloody hell.

"My hair does not-" James starts to say, but he's cut off.

"That's quite enough, both of you," Regulus raises his voice. "We would get this done much, much faster if you could just stop going at each other's throats for five minutes, please." He rubs his temples, and Remus can practically feel his pain. He can relate, really, he can. "Also," Regulus turns to James, who's sitting next to him. "Pretty eyes? What colour are they?"

"Cornflower blue," James says, a little too dreamily for someone who has, for more than three years, been dating a girl with eyes that shine like jewels. "There's this girl called Diana who comes to my shop every week. She adores him. Mostly his eyes, though."

"What colour are her eyes?" Regulus asks. "Oh, they're brown," James shrugs. Regulus seems to have more questions, but Auguste clears his throat. "I thought we were trying to get this done fast," He narrows his eyes at Regulus.

"Fine, fine," Regulus sighs, "carry on, Sirius."

And so Sirius launches into his story, how he 'asked' Peter about what happened after Remus left, and how he found out that it was, indeed, the 'little rat' who had told everyone about Remus' lycanthropy.

Remus has heard this story already, but it doesn't stop that sinking feeling in his chest. He feels Sirius slowly take his hand under the table, and raises his head to look at him, but Sirius continues talking as if nothing has happened.

As if the whole world didn't stop turning for a second there.

"He said he was drunk and upset that Remus got mad at him," Sirius is saying now, "and he never thought that things would escalate like that."

"He really isn't known for being the brightest," James agrees, "but I'd give him the benefit of the doubt. He's not a very, uhm, self-assured guy, you know? Besides, he was your friend at school, right, Remus?"

"Only when we were very small," Remus admits, "I think..." Actually, he can't think. Not when Sirius' thumb is drawing circles into the back of his hand like this. He can barely think when Sirius is in the same room itself, and...

Get yourself together, Remus.

"I think up to third or fourth year." He clarifies.

"How did he know about you being a... a werewolf?" Auguste asks carefully.

Remus smiles at him to let him know it's fine, and gets a beautiful smile in return. Sometimes, Remus can swear that beautiful boys are going to be the end of him.

"I uh," he goes a little red, embarrassed to say it out loud. "I told him. It was stupid but, it was in first year and he was my only friend."

He feels Sirius give his hand a small squeeze, and gathers the courage to squeeze his hand back. They've held hands before. so many times by now, but... This time is different. It's pleasantly thrilling to do it in front of the other boys, but still hidden well enough so that it's completely private, just for the two of them.

"He can't have known that things would turn out like this," Remus adds.

"As much as I don't like Pettigrew, I think I agree with Remus," Auguste says thoughtfully. "He clearly didn't have a problem with it before..."

"Okay. But it's too late now, since Sirius has beaten him up already," Regulus huffs, glaring at Sirius, who only shrugs in return. "Shall we move on to the next guy? This Thomas Puzzle?"

"What kind of name is Puzzle?" Auguste frowns.

Regulus' face falls, while James' immediately blossoms into a wide grin. They're both looking at Sirius.

"It really is, say..." Sirius smirks, "puzzling," he grins with triumph, as if he's said something so sharp that it would've made Oscar Wilde quit his career. "A riddle in its truest form," he adds, grinning.

Remus can't help the small giggle that pushes itself out of him, and when James starts to laugh as well, his own laughter only grows louder.

"You're awful, all three of you," Regulus shakes his head, and Remus really doesn't know how he can not laugh. Auguste doesn't seem much above utterly blasé about it either.

Maybe rich Purebloods from ancient families are taught not to laugh, or something of the sort.

Eventually, James and Remus manage to stop. And taking a deep breath, Sirius resumes relating his story.

***

Author's Note

Have no idea what I'm doing