He lifted his golden eyes, meeting the other boy's shining blue optics, which were narrowed in frustration.

"What's wrong with you, eh!? I try to be nice! I try to be your friend! James, too, and Peter! All you do is ignore us!"

And still, he stared. Motionless. Calm. He had never seemed the age he was. . . he had never been 7, or 8, or 9, or 10. He leapt from 6 to 25 in a matter of a few years, and that had always bothered his parents. Not as much, of course, as what had caused him to change the way he had.

" . . . What's . . . wrong with me?"

"Yeah! What?! We doing something wrong? Or are you just a brat who doesn't have time to mingle with other people below you?!"

" . . . how can you ask me that? I think a more appropriate question would be something along the lines of 'What's -not- wrong with you?'." His lip suddenly trembled slightly, and Sirius Black suddenly began to look rather bewildered. "I don't deserve friends. I can't have friends. I'm doing you a favor. I'm doing you a favor, not accepting any kind gesture, not returning any smile." His eyes became misty with tears, his words strengthening with his voice. "Just go away! You don't need me, and I don't need you, any of you! I shouldn't be around people, I shouldn't be here! Anywhere! I don't belong anywhere but in a cage!"

The smaller boy tried to flee the room, though his arm was caught . . . Sirius released him as soon as he looked into his eyes. Remus disappeared from the room. His eyes had been full of some primal beast. Something Sirius had never seen before. Something that scared him. Oddly enough, a cheerful smile spread across his lips.

"Well, then, I'll just have to fix what's wrong with you. Because Sirius Black never gives up without a fight!" He had always tried to help anyone he could. And he had always loved scaring himself.