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Sirius tried to imagine his friend, locked inside an abandoned house, clawing at his own skin.

Remus’ skin was a patchwork of red and silver scars, some long healed and some fresh. There was no pattern, no rhyme or reason; they danced like lightning across his skin. Snape had acted like they were repulsive, but that wasn’t true—Sirius thought they were sort of beautiful. Harsh and unforgiving, but beautiful all the same.

What the others didn’t know was that he had come to his own, private decision: he was not going to let Remus leave Hogwarts. Even if it meant gagging James until he could knock some sense into the other boy’s head, Sirius was firm in his conviction that Lupin had to stay. He had to stick around long enough for Sirius to prove him wrong—to show him that he wasn’t a charity case

“Remus felt a surge of hatred rise up out of nowhere. He repressed it, focussing instead on meeting James’ eyes. They already thought he was a wild animal. Best not to confirm it.”

And who would listen to Bowie with him if Remus was gone?

Sirius continued to loop and swerve, trying to impress Remus from where he watched them on the stands.

“Remus had an extremely strong desire to prove him wrong. It came as a mild surprise; he’d never been very competitive before – but then he’d never been given the tools to compete.”

David Bowie—that was the name of the artist. He stared at the picture on the album cover. Bowie stood with his leg hitched up and a guitar slung over one shoulder, clothed in an electric blue jumpsuit that was unbuttoned nearly to the waist. He was the coolest person Sirius had ever seen—his heart did a funny little flip, looking at him.

Who gave a toss about Reg? He had all the friends he needed anyway, right here at the Gryffindor table.

It had been a very confusing eavesdropping session, until Sirius figured out that “birds” just meant girls. Now, he felt very mature slipping the word into casual conversation.

Remus blinked at him. Bird?! Sirius was not the sort of boy who called girls ’birds’, he was far too upper class. Where on earth had he heard that?

it made Sirius feel sort of special that he was the only one Lupin had written to.

“Yeah. To live in a cave.”

No way.

Reg was opening his mouth to say something, but Sirius slammed the door in his brother’s face.

“You know I don’t know what that is.”

Sirius did, but he liked it when Remus asked him things.

Sirius thought Remus was being silly—obviously only he was creative enough to come up with this. The map had Remus’s own personal brand of genius stamped all over it.

even if the boy was a werewolf, it didn’t matter. It didn’t change who he was, funny and smart and full of secrets. Sirius would make sure that no one else found out, so that Remus could stay at Hogwarts. They would keep planning pranks and listening to music and reading together—nothing had to change.

He didn’t look like a dangerous creature. He just looked tired.

(He didn't seem to understand any of the rules—but he thought it was very entertaining to watch the little pieces march around the board).

He had never heard Remus laugh before—really laugh, like he couldn’t help himself, breathless and joyful. It made Sirius laugh too, and even after they had calmed down, he found that he couldn’t stop smiling.