AN: This is short, quick, and unbeta-ed, so forgive it, please.

Remus stood in the exam room in the Ministry, completely bared for all to see, though thankfully, only one other was in the room with him.

"Name?"

"Lupin, Remus John," Remus replied, finding these questions completely unnecessary since the examiner had his file.

"Age?"

Remus hesitated and the examiner glanced up at him. "Seventeen."

"New marks?"

Sirius trailed his fingers over the new scars on Remus' chest, his eyes tracing each one with care, committing it to memory. "I gave you this one," he whispered, leaning forward to touch his lips to the pale mark. He heard Remus inhale sharply.

The dorm room was dark, the light from a waning moon allowing the two boys to see each other. James and Peter knew to make themselves scarce the night after the full moon. Nothing ever happened on those nights; Remus was always still too tired and sore, and Sirius was too gentle. But these nights were intimate anyway, as Sirius took care of Remus and took note of the damage done.

"All right, wait here," the examiner said, and Remus barely moved. He was used to these examinations; they were an annual event, by the book. It started with a session of questions, typical things, making sure he hadn't attacked anyone. Then a physical followed, and that was it. He was free to go.

Except that this year, he was of age. He knew what this meant, and so did Sirius. That was why, this year, Sirius had come with him. He was in the waiting room, but Remus wished more than anything he was here with him.

When the examiner returned with a needle and ink, Remus closed his eyes, trying to imagine something to calm him down.

Remus opened his eyes when he felt two strong arms wrap around his body. His eyes met Sirius' in the mirror. The normally carefree boy was look at Remus with uncharacteristically worried eyes. "You okay, Rem?"

Remus nodded, though he knew Sirius didn't believe him. The dark haired boy did not push the subject, however. Instead, he kissed Remus' neck.

"I love you, Rem, and I'll always be here for you."

He hissed when the needle first made contact, but quickly bit his lip to keep from making any more noise.

It seemed like it took hours before the examiner took a cloth and wiped away the blood that had collected on Remus' forearm. When he finally saw what he knew had been done to him, he couldn't help but cry.

He hated that his scars made him appear so much more weak and fragile and beaten than everyone else, and he thought they made him ugly, despite Sirius' reassurance that they were, in fact, sexy. But they had always been his own. Now, displayed in black ink on his flesh was a seven digit number. It was the number they had assigned him when he was first bitten, now forever to be a part of him.

"I wish sometimes I hadn't run away, and that I worked in the Ministry."

Remus snorted at this sudden remark from Sirius.

"No, really, listen to me. I'd work in the magical creatures department, whatever they call it, and I would change all the rules about werewolves. They're so fucking worried that you'll join the death eaters that they don't realize they're making it hard for you to stay on the good side."

Remus closed his book and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his noise. "It's a nice sentiment, Sirius, but I'm used to this. You don't have to come."

On his knees, Sirius scooted closer to Remus and then climbed in the oversized chair with him. "I'm coming with you. I can't believe they can do this to you."

"I can't believe they did this to you," Sirius said, immediately wrapping Remus in his arms when the boy reappeared in the waiting room. "Bunch of bastards, the lot of them. Did they hurt you? I'll kill them if they did."

The young werewolf shook his head. "It didn't hurt," he lied. He wasn't sure what had actually been more painful; the needle itself, or the fact that the Ministry was doing it's damndest to make him feel as inhuman as possible. The worst part was, they were doing a good job of it.

"I'll get one done, too."

"What?"

Sirius smiled. "I'll get a number done too. Maybe yours, backwards. Then we'll both have one."

Remus shook his head. "Don't be stupid, Sirius. The number means something. It means I'm… an animal."

"Don't you ever say that again," Sirius stopped and took a hold of Remus' shoulders. "It's not true, and I don't ever want to hear you say that." His tone softened, and he sighed. "Rem, everything good about me is because of you, and if that number somehow defines you, then it defines me, too. I'll get one. I want to."

"I love you."