So... I'll be honest and again said I am not particularly pleased with this one. Please don't base your judgment of my writing off of it, particularly the second half. But I am pleased to say it's at least completed. I've been wanting to get something up for a while now, and this is one of two plot bunnies that wouldn't leave me alone. The other I may or may not write. I don't entirely want to, but it's been plaguing my thoughs for over a month, and I may have to shut up and listen. XP

The other reason I've been wanting to post so badly is that I am curios whether anyone knows of some good Remus or Sirius fan-fictions that are neither slash nor OC pairings. I love them both, but I've never been one to see them together, and I like canon characters. XD (I know, I know... I sound terrible. But I'm a picky reader when it comes to those two.) If you know of any, shoot me a PM and let me know. Thanks!

Otherwise, whether love or hate, you should review and tell me what you thought. (And if love, you should check out some of my Lily/James stuff.) Thanks!

-Linneam

"James, come here please."

From his room, the almost seventeen-year-old groaned, begrudgingly flopping his bare feet on the floor. He hated that tone. It was his father's 'I am not at all happy with whatever it is you did this time' voice, and it rarely meant good news. Wearily, the teen pattered down the staircase, occasionally tripping over his own feet when he missed a step or two. James paused only once, his inner-narcissist prompting him to preen briefly in their ancient hallway mirror. And if he did say so himself- which he did, of course-, he looked good. His hair poked up in a gorgeously messy manner, and his glasses looked much less crooked when his eyes were blurred with sleep. Morning was definitely his time of day.

After this brief detour, he found himself standing in the living room entrance, staring at an older version of himself. The greying man glanced up briefly over his Daily Prophet, his gaze a mixture of a rarely-seen sternness and its usual good humour. "Glad to see you're up by breakfast. But we asked you not to bring the dog back, son. I know you wanted to keep him around, but you're away at school more than you're here, and your mum and I just can't handle a dog right now... I'm sorry, James."

"What dog?"

His father chuckled quietly. "That giant black mutt you had around all last summer. It's asleep on the porch. If you want to pretend you don't know what's going on, I'll play along, as long as you get rid of him before your mum gets up. She'll never have to know."

His confusion gone, James suddenly felt wide awake. There had only been one dog around the previous summer, and if he was asleep on the porch, something was wrong. Very wrong. But his father couldn't know that. Instead, he put on his best 'I'll pretend to be innocent' face and offered his dad a rather wide fake grin and muttered, "As long as you know I know nothing about it, then I'll gladly, ahem, deal with it."

With another laugh, Mr. Potter nodded and began skimming his newspaper once more, and James bolted for the door. Worry bubbled up inside him, and idea after idea paraded through his mind. Maybe he just felt like camping. Was the full moon sometime soon? Or maybe his parents didn't want him for the rest of summer. That had happened the previous summer. There had to be some explanation. Haphazardly, James stormed through the door, freezing as soon as it slammed behind him. The dog in front of him was thin and bony, its coat was matted in ugly clumps, and its breathing seemed shallow and almost labored. It was the worst James had seen him.

"Padfoot. Hey, Pad, wake up." When his whispers yielded no result, he began gently prodding the dogs shoulder until it growled, its deep brown eyes opening slightly. Then in one gradual shift, its limbs morphed, becoming arms and legs, and the hair quickly disappeared from most of his body, leaving only a dirty mess of black scruff on his head. Even his mate's robes were soiled, a fact only made worse by the apparent new holes torn in its sleeves and torso. "Bloody hell, Sirius. How'd you get here? What happened?"

His friend shook his head, wincing slightly as he pulled himself into a sitting position. His eyes were bloodshot, bits of dirt even clung to his abnormally pale cheeks. "I walked. And can we not discuss this on the porch? I really don't want your mum to come water the flowers and find me sitting here."

After an immediate frown, James nodded, wordlessly conjuring his broom from the small shed across the lawn. "Usual place, then?"

Still in tense- albeit familiar- silence, the pair flew to their private hideaway, the home of many schemes throughout their childhood. In the years following its creation, it had become less of a place for make-believe and instead began housing the Marauders' planning sessions or the occasional serious conversation. It was their safe-haven.

After a short flight, the pair arrived at the decrepit building. As eleven-year-olds, their building skills were next-to-none, but the little shack their younger selves had constructed still held together, however barely. James briefly considered tiding up the slightly rotting wood, but he quickly stashed his wand in his pocket. Now was not the time.

Instead, he settled uncomfortably against the decaying wall and studied his best friend, finally asking, "What happened?"

"Mum's probably burned my name off the tapestry by now," Sirius responded hoarsely, his eyes dead as he stared at nothing in particular. "It never takes her very long."

James snorted slightly, punching his friend in the arm. "Shouldn't you be celebrating? That's what you've wanted for years, Padfoot. Come on, now... Smile."

"You don't get it." Sirius' voice was clouded with bitterness, but he didn't look at James. "They're my parents. I hate everything about them, but they're still my family."

James frowned slightly, gnawing on the inside of his lip. This was not Padfoot. Padfoot hated his family, or at least, it's what he generally disclosed. Of course, James had seen his friend's remorse in losing his brother, but overall, Sirius had seemed happy to be rid of them throughout the school year. Something broke him. "What happened?"

The broken Marauder shook his head, looking shamefully at the ground. "The Sorting Hat was wrong. I shouldn't have been a Gryffindor."

Obviously irritated, James put his hand firmly on Sirius' shoulder, not noticing the obvious grimace that flickered across his face. "Sirius Orion Black. What the bloody hell happened?"

"I ran." The words seemed to shatter what little bit of composure Sirius had kept. His thin shoulders began to shake, and he hoarsely began the story. "We- We were fighting, and I ran...

"I was reading the book Remus sent me- the one about the Dark Arts I kept harping about last month- and the Banshee came up. She wanted to bring dinner so she could yell at me. Kreacher normally does it, but-"

"What do you mean, 'Kreacher normally does it'? Don't you eat at a table?" James asked, a mixture of puzzled and livid. The one time he'd been to the Black's, they'd all crowded around the icy dining room table and ate what James still described to be the most unwelcoming meal of the century.

Sirius shook his head, his bloodshot eyes scanning his friends face slowly before fixing themselves once more on the ground. "That ended over the winter holidays. Father was tired of my 'insolence' and locked me in my room... You saw what happened when I left." Subconsciously, Sirius' fingers brushed a scar along the side of his cheek, barely noticeable after the potions they'd concealed it with. His parents very rarely touched him; generally, ignorance was their chief response to his life in general, but on the rare occasions it came to violence, Sirius learned how to behave. "Mum sent my food up with Kreacher or Regulus most of the time, but she wanted to have a go. When she saw the book, it was all over.

"The yelling started, then Father came up. I- I was stupid. When he saw the title, he lost it, started yelling louder than Mum. But I didn't take it- I never do. I went too far. I told him that one day, their Lord Voldemort would fall, and it would be me calling the shots..." His voice trailed off, and he cringed, refusing to admit to what happened next. "I ran. I punched him in the face and bolted. Merlin, it hurt."

"What'd they do?" James asked his friend, entirely certain Sirius omitted something. The fear in his eyes, the involuntary tightening of his shoulders, the twitch in his jaw... James bore no doubt that whatever his best mate had faced, it was the worse he'd met under their roof. "What aren't you telling me?"

After a long blink, the broken man opened his eyes. Anxiety radiated from him, but finally, he forced one word. "Crucio."

James was on his feet before he realized what happened. "Damn them. Damn them all. You can't go back there." He bit his tongue slightly as he realized the truth of his words. Sirius honestly couldn't go back there, whether he wanted to or not. He no longer belonged there (though James questioned if he ever had). With a bitter sigh, he forced himself back on the ground. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Talk to me, Padfoot; I'm serious."

A sad smile found it's way onto Sirius' face. "No, you're not. I am, mate. Thought we'd been over that."

"Sirius..." James muttered, a slight warning tone in his voice. No one could be okay after what had just happened, and as much as James wasn't for sentimental 'girl talk,' Sirius was his best mate. He couldn't just push it under the surface like he normally did.

"What do you want me to say, Prongs?" his friend snapped irritably, his hands suddenly balled into fists. "That my whole body hurts? That I have no idea where I'm supposed to go now? How about a recap: that as much as I hate my family I still just lost the only family I have? What are you wanting here, James?"

That's better, James thought. At least you're saying something. He carefully pulled himself to his feet and offered out his hand. "When's the last time you ate?"

The anger melted from Sirius' face, quickly replaced by confusion, and he accepted the help up. "A few days ago, I guess? I don't know how long it took me to get here."

"Then let's go home. You eat, and I'll talk to my parents and owl Moony and Wormtail. You're staying with us."

"I'll be out by the winter hoiday," Sirius vowed, internally analyzing where he could go from there. He was sure the Potters wouldn't want him around for long.

James rolled his eyes. "No, you bloody idiot. For good. Merlin, you're thick sometimes. But Sirius, one more thing."

"Hm?"

"Don't say you don't have a family. You have us."

END