Sirius made a noise of sheer frustration, his hands spasming in front of him for a moment, as if he was grasping at air. This was the fight they had never had, all those months of eyeballing each other suspiciously while living together during the war. (And that, that was Peter's fault too. Remus was so busy trying to save his friendship with Peter that he had never stopped to think what the lasting repercussions might be on their friendship. That stung too. That Remus, after all of this, after Sirius had been proven innocent and Peter guilty, could still choose Peter over him.)
"You always needed to protect him!" Sirius exploded. "He didn't need protecting, Remus! You didn't really know him! He used you, the same way he's using you here to make sure that I don't get at him. You think he wouldn't have sacrificed you with the lot of us? He did sacrifice you. Who do you think was breathing to the Order at every second that, 'Oh, do you really think we can trust the werewolf?'"
They'd been tarred with that same brush: Sirius wearing the sins of his family around his neck, Remus painted only as a dark creature. It was amazing they hadn't been depicted as the double act.
"It does go that way!" Sirius shouted. He knew they'd had this fight already. "It goes that way because I've already seen James and Lily dead! Because I've already been fucking arrested for it! What he did, Remus, was so fucking evil, that they put me away in Azkaban without a trial for it. I don't want to fucking fix it! I want him gone! I want you and James to stop mucking about with him!"