Summary: Entered for the Redemption Challenge by Slian Martreb of Ravenclaw. Set on New Year's of Harry's fourth year, this is the tale of what happens to two men who loved too much.
(SSP warning, and one character gets roaring drunk)
Edit 1/17: Oh. And it won. The challenge. *smug*
Categories: Remus/Sirius Characters: None
Warnings: Slash, Substance Abuse
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 4
Completed: Yes
Word count: 7890
Read: 12434
Published: 11/17/05
Updated: 12/19/05
1. Drinking and Drowning by Slian Martreb
2. Chapter Two by Slian Martreb
3. Chapter Three by Slian Martreb
4. Chapter Four by Slian Martreb
Drinking and Drowning by Slian Martreb
The sun was beginning to set on the snow-covered hill, signaling the start of the second New Year’s Eve for Sirius since his escape from Azkaban. And nearly nothing had changed. He was still wanted, still on the run. Still starving. And still alone. So there were five people in the world who didn’t think he was guilty of James and Lily’s murder. Well, la dee da. He would have cheered if he could have cared.
Because none of them knew the real truth. None of them knew that he really had murdered his best friend and his wife, nearly killing their son, his godson. Their death was completely his fault. If only he hadn’t told them to switch to Peter“the murdering bastard....There was no saying that they’d be alive even now, he could admit that. But their deaths wouldn’t have been his fault, because he would have died before betraying their location, their secret. Their trust.
He took another swig of Firewhiskey from the bottle, realized it was empty, and threw it to the floor, where it shattered into a hundred pieces with the remains of the three other bottles. The few drops he hadn’t sucked dry from it splattered onto the dust covered floor as he pulled a fifth out of the bag, popped the cork and tipped it down his throat. It burned on the way down, but it didn’t burn away the guilt.
He pulled a face at the taste and gulped down some more before looking around the room. There were so many memories in this room, this room which now boasted only dusty curtains hanging around a bed that was in danger of collapsing, one leg nearly broken in half. That was what filled the room: broken furniture and a broken man with broken memories and dreams. Happy memories. Angry memories. But memories, nonetheless. And they were haunting him.
There were the ghosts of himself and Remus, tussling on the floor, laughing and smiling in one of their mock fights.
They vanished, replaced by another set of ghosts, him and Remus again, but Remus was transformed now. His mouth opened in a soundless howl. Tears rolled down Sirius’s cheeks as he remembered“that had been right after James had gotten Snape away to safety; the night of The Prank. The moment when Remus had realized what Sirius had almost made him do. That many years ago, Sirius thought he would never feel again as helpless as he had that night. He’d been wrong. That helplessness had no measure against what he was feeling now.
The ghosts disappeared, and Sirius watched the ghost of himself reappear around the door, younger and flanked by James and Peter “ the murdering bastard “ horrified and fascinated as they watched Remus transform for the first time.
He seemed to be regressing.
So it was, with some surprise and regret at the loss of his younger self, that Sirius watched as the memories turned to wisps of smoke, reforming to become the self he had been before the summer, Remus and the three children: Harry, Hermione and Ron. The ghosts had joined him on and around the bed now, taking their proper places as he relived the moment when Peter“the murdering bastard“ had been forced to show himself. He remembered things he hadn’t before: the looks on the children’s faces. The utter revulsion on Ron’s face as Peter “ the murdering bastard “ reached out for him was almost comical.
He put out a shaky hand to push the ghost of himself away, but his hand went straight through and he lost his balance, toppling off the bed and crashing to the floor. The bedspread ripped with a satisfying sound as he pulled it down with him, spilling most of what was in the bottle over the front of his robes.
“Oh bugger,” he said to the room in general as he stared up at the dark and creaking ceiling, the ghosts now joined by the stars spinning around his head. Well, that’s what he tried to say anyway. It sounded like no more than a mumble to even his ears.
He downed the rest of the bottle and threw it at the newest ghosts: himself and Remus in fifth year. He’d never forgotten that night, but he had no interest in being reminded of it now. However, instead of hitting them, it sailed straight through their bodies, smashing against the wall.
“Sod it,” he said, grimacing at the sound of breaking glass.
He sat up, clutching the leg of the bed as the room tilted. He used it to hoist himself back up onto the bed and to the bag containing the rest of the fire whiskey. He leaned over the bed to pull out another, lost his balance yet again and fell to the floor once more.
“Bugger it,” he said to the ceiling for the sake of variety.
A howling wind roared outside, heralding a coming storm as it echoed the helpless fury filling him.
The ghosts were back, and they had brought a raging headache with them. He watched as they moved about the room, scenes interplaying within each other. One James running into the next. The Remuses melting into one another. Peters “ the murdering bastards “ running round and round the room. And then Lily was there.
Sirius laughed at the memory; it was the only one with her in the Shrieking Shack. And they had forced her to come, if the truth willed out. They had kidnaped her in seventh year, Remus, Peter “ the murdering bastard “ and himself, threatening to wipe her memory of James because they all thought he was spending too much time with her. It had been quite the laugh then and it was an even bigger laugh now. But the laugh was a bitter one. Maybe if they actually had wiped her memory they never would have married...Harry would have never been born...but James and Lily would still be alive; there would have been no reason for Voldermort to go after them.
Lily had meant the world to him because she had meant the world to James.
Tears rolled freely again as he laughed and sobbed at the same time, almost choking on the fire whiskey. It was nasty stuff and he made another face. How did people drink the stuff?
The door flew open to the room to reveal Remus. Ah, he was having another go at that night, then.
“‘Lo, Moony,” he said, waving the bottle at him.
“My God, Sirius, what happened?” Remus asked, walking towards him.
Sirius frowned, looking up at him. “Yer not s’posed ta talk,” he slurred.
“I’m not?”
“Nope. Ghosts don’“don’ talk.”
Remus bent down beside him, wrinkling his nose. “Sirius,
you reek. Have you been drinking?”
“Me?” Sirius asked, shocked, drunkenly pointing a finger at his chest. “Nah. Not drinkin.’ Drownin’.”
“Drowning,” Remus echoed, his eyebrows going up.
“Yep.”
“Drowning what, precisely?”
Sirius waved his arm out at the room. “Mem’ries.”
“Ah.”
“Ah what?” Sirius asked, glaring at Remus.
“You’re drunk,” Remus said simply, crossing his arms over
his chest.
“‘M not drunk!" Sirius protested.
“You’re not?”
“Nope.”
“Well, you’re damned hard to find, that’s for certain,” Remus said as his eyes surveyed the room. “I had gone halfway to Egypt before I thought to look for you here.” His nose wrinkled again as Sirius let out a heavy breath, and he coughed behind a fisted hand. “How many bottles did you have?”
Sirius squeezed his eyes tight, as though that would stir his brain into proper action. “Erm.” He held up a hand and looked. There were too many fingers on his hand. He closed his eyes, shook his head and opened them once more. There were still too many fingers there. “Five?” he asked.
“Five!” Remus exclaimed. “Merlin’s Beard, Sirius!”
“Too much?” Sirius asked, feeling ashamed. Remus had a habit of making him feel ashamed, but he’d never known why. Ah, right. He remembered now: it was because he loved him. “Four?” he asked hopefully.
Remus laughed.
“Alrigh’ then?” Sirius asked with a brilliant, if drunk, smile.
“No, it’s not all right. Sirius, you don’t drink.”
“I don’t?” Sirius asked, confused. If he didn’t drink, then it was only logical that he hadn’t been, wasn’t it? Only he was nearly sure he had been drinking. Maybe he was drunker than he thought he was, if he thought he’d been drinking and he hadn’t. But how could he be drunk if he hadn’t been drinking? He screwed his eyes shut again“his brain hurt.
Remus resisted the urge to laugh. “No, Sirius, you don’t. And five bottles would be a lot even if you did.”
“Five is a lot?”
“Yes Sirius, five is a lot.”
“Hell of a lot?”
“Yes, Sirius.”
“‘M drunk?” he asked, making sure.
“Roaring drunk,” Remus nodded.
“Ah. Thas’ alrigh’ then,” Sirius said, sending clouds of dust up from the floor as he fell heavily against it, passing out.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Humor picks up in the second chapter! Please review!
Chapter Two by Slian Martreb
He came to with a scream as buckets of ice cold water hit him like needles. Someone was trying to kill him with cold. He was drowning. He was going to die. The Dementors had found him!
Sirius grasped frantically for a hold on something, his hands sliding down the smooth porcelain of a....bathtub? He shot up from where he was lying, his soaking wet hair falling into his face to find himself elsewhere and...quite naked?
“Welcome back,” Remus said from where he was sitting cross-legged on the loo.
“Stop it,” Sirius said with chattering teeth, drawing his knees into his chest and wrapping his arms around them in an attempt to retain some small measure of heat. He felt as though he’d never be warm again. “Stop it.”
“What? The water?”
Sirius nodded, his teeth chattering and clattering as his knees knocked together. He was so cold.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
Sirius squinted. “Seven?” he asked hopefully.
“On one hand?” Remus answered, sounding surprised. “No. You’ll get the water for a bit longer.”
Sirius wailed. “Make i’ stop!” he begged, shivering.
“In a while. Why did you drink five bottles of Firewhiskey? It tastes like acid.”
Sirius didn’t ask what acid was. “Did’n drink five bottles. Smashed one. Spilled t’other one.”
“It was still too much. Why?”
“Turn the water off!” Sirius whined again.
“Not until you answer my question. Why did you do it?”
Sirius glared at him, even though he wanted to cry. Why was Moony trying to kill him? Had he become a sadist since he’d been in Azkaban? How could Moony be sitting there, so calmly, watching him in the bathtub, naked and cold enough to freeze his bits off? He’d always thought that Moony liked his bits.
“Well?”
Sirius opened his mouth and felt something something salty slip into it. He swallowed at the same moment that he was crying again. The hot tears mixed with the icy water as he cried silently, his shoulders heaving as he sought to get his brain out of the pillow it had been stuffed into. The water was sharp against him, but everything else was fuzzy and dull. He heard Remus sigh heavily before the water came to a blessed stop.
He was sitting naked in the empty tub for a moment before it was suddenly filled with lovely hot water, easing him He felt nearly every muscle in his body melt in the delicious warmth. He’d never felt anything so good in his life as the hot water. He made a promise to himself that he would take a hot bath every single day for the rest of his life if Remus didn’t kill him first. He moaned at the thought, not wanting to consider the fact that Remus clearly wanted him dead, and burying his face in his hands, he slipped lower into the water.
“Oh no you don’t,” Remus said, hoisting him back up by pulling on his hair. “I won’t let you drown yourself literally either.”
“Bastard!” Sirius yelled, clumsily forcing Remus’s hands from his hair even as he realized that Remus must not want him dead after all if he’d stopped him from drowning. Unless...unless he really was a sadist and just wanted to prolong the torture.
“You don’t mean that,” Remus said easily. “Now, are you going to wash yourself up like a big boy or do I have to do it for you?”
“‘M no’ a baby,” Sirius muttered, taking offense at his tone. So Remus wanted him dead and he was going to treat him like a child while he killed him? The indignity was too much.
“That’s right. You’re an idiot and that’s much worse. Now again, can I leave you to wash yourself up so I can go get you some coffee or“”
“Coffee?” Sirius echoed, his ears perking up. It must have been years since he had had a decent cup of the stuff.
Remus smiled. “Yes. Coffee.”
“I’ll wash up!” Sirius promised, nodding his head eagerly as he grabbed for the bar of soap.
“Good. I’m trusting you not to drown yourself while I’m gone,” Remus said, standing up. “You won’t get any coffee if you do. Do you promise?”
“I promise,” Sirius said solemnly and Remus left the bathroom. If Remus was going to get him coffee he couldn’t be trying to kill him.
Somehow, Sirius managed to wash himself, although, it always was possible that he had washed the third arm and his two extra legs that had just appeared instead of the originals, but Remus would check when he came back. He stared around at the unfamiliar bathroom, his first time in it and left to his own thoughts again, slowly became wretched once more. He noticed the bottle of shampoo on the ledge labeled toxic though and was trying to unscrew the cap to drink that when Remus walked back in. He grabbed it from Sirius with a yell, nearly spilling the scalding coffee all over him.
“Watch m’ parts!” Sirius yelled, frantically covering himself.
Remus stared at him, and then burst out laughing, barely getting the cup down on the counter before doubling over and clutching his stomach.
“No’ funny!” Sirius yelled, far more than annoyed. It was one thing for Remus to want him dead. It was entirely another for him to start attacking his bits and then laugh about it!
“I’m sorry,” Remus wheezed, holding onto a corner of the sink, knocking off the graying toothbrush resting there and not noticing. “Sorry. I promise to watch your parts.”
Sirius considered this statement. “No funny business!” he warned, wagging a finger at Remus. If Remus wasn’t going to be careful about his bits, he didn’t deserve them.
Remus shook his head solemnly. “Absolutely not,” he agreed. “I promise to watch your parts with only the utmost of serious care.”
Sirius considered this statement as well. “You makin’ fun o’ me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Thas’ all right then.”
Remus smiled. “Did you wash yourself up?”
Sirius nodded, completely forgetting in his drunken state that he had wanted Remus to make sure he was clean.
“Good. You may have your coffee then.”
Sirius took the mug greedily, and tipped it back before spewing the horrible tasting sludge that he had let into his mouth out a moment later. “Yech!” he said, pulling a face. Remus definitely wanted him dead.
“Drink up,” Remus said, smiling.
“But“”
“Drink,” Remus said, his voice sterner.
Sirius drank, making faces at Remus the entire time over the rim. This wasn’t coffee. This wasn’t even mud. It was bitterness, undiluted. Hadn’t he had enough of that tonight? “Done,” he said finally, handing it back. “Now can I have real coffee?”
“In a bit,” Remus said. “First we have to get you out of the tub, dried and dressed and under some heavy blankets.”
Sirius closed his eyes. “Mm. Blankets. I love blankets.” If Remus was going to let him get under the blankets he couldn’t want him dead. Unless he was going to smother him in his sleep with a pillow....
Remus laughed again, and Sirius opened his eyes to glare at this obvious mockery of himself to see Remus holding out a huge towel in front of him.
“Come on out.”
Sirius rose like a tsunami, splashing half of the water out of the tub and shaking the rest off himself like a wet dog. He allowed Remus to wrap the towel around him after a renewed promise of no ‘funny business’ before he followed Remus to his bedroom at the end of the hall.
It was a very regular sized room, with a very regular bed in the middle of it. A few pieces of very regular furniture filled it, dressers and a closet, and there were fairly regular belongings strewn about the room. Sirius met this with satisfaction. Of course; Remus was far away enough from regular to more than make up for the rest of the house.
Sirius smiled lewdly, remembering the parts of Remus that weren’t so regular.
“These are yours,” Remus said, interrupting the first pleasant thoughts Sirius had had all night and passing a pair of pajamas to him.
They looked vaguely familiar. “Are these“” he started, screwing his eyes up as he thought.
“Yes,” Remus said.
“You kept 'em? All this time?” Sirius asked, the shock of this realization taking him just a bit further out of his drunken stupor.
“Yes,” Remus answered. “I’ll expect you to explain why you haven’t come to claim them before tonight.”
“Why I“” Sirius began, confused. But Remus took him by the hand, helping him into the worn and comfortable pajamas he hadn’t used to sleep in for thirteen years. Although, he considered as Remus guided his legs into through the pajama bottoms, he hadn’t really ever done much sleeping in them. They’d ended up on the floor more often than not.
“Stick out your feet,” Remus said, hunching down on the floor.
Sirius eyes him warily. “Why?”
“Socks,” he answered simply, holding the pair up.
Sirius laughed like a two year, giggling as he fell back onto the mattress. It was good of Moony to remember after all these years that he didn’t like for his feet to be cold. Of course, the last time they had spent Christmas together, it had been Moony’s feet that had been cold.
“Yes, Sirius, socks,” Remus said, smiling back. “No cold feet for you tonight. Under the blankets,” he said, standing up and lifting Sirius’s socked-feet off the floor and up onto the bed, pulling the blanket out and covering him with it. “Now,” he said once they were both settled, “why did you get drunk?”
“I tol’ you, I was“”
“Drowning memories,” Remus finished. “I know. Which ones?”
“All of ‘em,” Sirius answered, waving a vague hand around the room.
“Ah ha. If I may ask, why?”
“They were hunting“no,” he said. That wasn’t right. “Erm. Haunting me.” That was the right word. He smiled, pleased that he had managed to find it in the muddle of his mind.
Remus though, frowned at him. “Why were they haunting you?”
“I’s Chris’mas,” Sirius said simply, as though that explained it.
“Ah. And ghosts haunt you on Christmas because....?”
“Because i’s Chris’mas,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes at Remus’s inability to grasp such a simple concept.
“Ah,” Remus said once more.
Sirius pointed an angry finger at Remus. “Why’d’you keep sayin’ tha’?”
“Saying what?” Remus asked, leaning back and away from the finger that was practically touching his nose.
“Ah!” Sirius yelled.
“Oh.”
Sirius glared at Remus.
“Sorry,” Remus said, “I’ll try not to say it again.”
“Good. Y’better not,”Sirius said warningly. “Now. ‘M goin’ t’sleep,” he announced, rolling onto his side and closing his eyes, sinking into the mattress. Mattresses were lovely too. He hadn’t slept on a real mattress in the longest time.
“Sirius.”
He snored loudly, theatrically. A lovely sound, really. He wished he’d known how to snore like that back in school. Would have gotten him out of quite a few messes.
Remus sighed. “Fine. I’m waking you up in an hour though. You aren’t going to get away with this so easily.”
“Will too,” Sirius argued. Too late he realized that Remus would realize now that he wasn’t sleeping. “Damn,” he said.
He felt Remus’s weight leave the bed and the light closed a moment later, followed by the click of the door. He was fast asleep before Remus’s hand left the handle.
Chapter Three by Slian Martreb
Sirius came awake with the feeling that a giant was trying to dance around in his head. He groaned, found that the simple action angered the giant further, and stopped. Hadn’t giants left civilized England centuries ago? How had one managed to get into his head?
“Here,” a voice said gently, holding something up to his mouth. “Drink this. It will help.”
Sirius opened his mouth to let the liquid in and, when he tried to spit it back out, found the cup forced against his mouth once again. “Drink,” the voice said firmly.
He drank the bitter stuff down, forcing himself to the last drop.
“I’s s’pposed t’ taste like tha’?” he asked, grimacing. “You didn’ mess up another potion?”
Remus didn’t answer as he turned away from the bed to place the mug on the dresser. “It’s an anti-hangover potion and it should help with the headache in a few minutes,” he offered finally, joining Sirius on the bed. “You should feel perfectly fine within half an hour.”
Sirius closed his eyes, leaning against the headboard. It creaked as he forced air down his lungs. He’d never felt so nauseous in his life. “Thank you,” he said when he was able to open his eyes again.
“You’re welcome,” Remus said, his voice sounding oddly detached.
“I’m sorry?” Sirius offered, after another silent moment passed, almost questioningly. Now that he was only hung-over and slightly drunk instead of totally and completely smashed, he realized that Remus looked...unhappy. He could hardly remember a moment of the last few hours“what had he said?
“For what?”
Sirius shrugged. “For this?” Again, with a question. He had no idea of what he’d done to make Moony start acting so distantly, but an apology should have covered it. Only thing was...it didn’t seem to have made a difference. If anything, Remus looked more annoyed now.
Remus sighed impatiently. “Don’t.”
An uneasy silence fell over the two of them. “Erm,” Sirius finally said.
“Sirius?”
“Yes?” he said quickly, grasping at the hope that the awkwardness would end.
“Why“” He hesitated. “Why are you so miserable? It’s Christmas.”
Sirius was still drunk enough not to realize that he had answered the question already and gave it once again without a fight. “ ‘t was the last time we were all t’gether. Happy. Firs’ Christmas with Harry. Las’, too. ‘S my fault they’re all dead, Moony. My fault they’re gone. If I wasn’ such an idiot they’d still be here. Harry’d be happy. Peter’d be dead instead, the murderin’ bastard. I’s my fault he go’ away las’ year. Now ee’s back wi’ Voldemort. Ee’s gonna kill us, Moony. Now they know. What’re we goin’ t’do?”
Without a fight? He’d given it to Remus on a silver platter with roses. Oh well. He’d never been able to keep anything from Moony.
“It’s not your fault they’re dead, Sirius,” Remus said after a moment.
“Is too!” Sirius protested. “ ‘S cause I was too full o’ myself. Thought they’d come righ’ after me, didn’ I?” He laughed bitterly. “D’you know? I thought the traitor was you?”
“I know,” Remus said quietly.
“I should ‘ave asked, right?” Sirius said. “If I woulda’ asked, you woulda’ told me it wasn’ you.”
“But you wouldn’t have been able to trust my answer. I would have told you it wasn’t me regardless, wouldn’t I?.” There was a pause. “You did what you thought you had to based on what you knew, Sirius,” Remus said, his voice soft. “No one blames you for it.”
“Fat load of help that is,” Sirius snorted. “I blame me, doesn’ I? Do ent I?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t I?”
“You shouldn’t.”
Sirius snorted again. “Why not? I’s my fault. Only takin’ the blame where it’s due.”
Remus stared at him for a long moment. “And that’s what brought on the drinking?”
Sirius nodded. “Couldn’t stop rememberin’. James an’ Lily wouldn’ leave me alone. So I went ta’ the Shack. But they were there too. And you. And Peter“murdering bastard.”
“Why didn’t you come here?”
Sirius stared at him. “Didn’ wan’ you ta’ get hurt,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the
world. “What if they woulda’ found me here? They woulda’ taken you too.”
There was a moment of glaring shock in Remus’s eyes. “Idiot,” he said finally, his voice almost furious.
“No’ an idiot,” Sirius said with conviction.
“No, you’re not, aren’t you?” Remus said softly, staring at Sirius, a look not far from wonder on his face.
Sirius felt clarity rush onto him as the headache lifted suddenly, leaving him still with his loose tongue, and they both stared at each other, new understanding in their eyes. And then, as suddenly as the fog had lifted from Sirius’ brain, Remus kissed him, hard and forcefully, bearing down. A pleasant warmth filled Sirius from the tips of his toes, welling up from a place in his heart he believed to be shut away long ago and nearly swamping him.
There had been a time in his life when Sirius had thought he could never feel content. Never know perfect happiness. But that had been before Moony had kissed him. His life was divided into so many Before and Afters. Before and After school. Before and After his parents had disowned him. Before and After James and Lily had been killed. Before and After Azkaban. But by far, the most pleasant of those divisions was Before he’d been kissed by Moony...and After. Life hadn’t been the same...after. Life couldn’t be.
Remus stared to pull away, but Sirius pulled him back again, not allowing him to break the kiss. It had been too long. A wealth of feelings and sensations were swooping around in the pit of his stomach. Feelings he would have given his life to feel once more when he’d thought he was going to die in Azkaban. There was a frantic urgency to the kiss, a
desperation.
After all, there were very few things in life that Sirius enjoyed as much as he did kissing Remus. Perhaps what kissing Remus led up to....But still, kissing Remus was definitely number one on his list.
“You kissed me,” he stated, dumbfounded and nearly shocked into sobriety when Remus finally forced Sirius to let him go, both of them near to panting.
“You didn’t.”
Sirius considered this. A new realization dawned. So that was why Remus was upset. “Ah,” he said with a knowing smile.
Remus studied him. “Sirius?”
“Hmm?” he answered with a smile, feeling smug. Nearly thirteen years and he still had It.
“How do you manage to love so much?”
Sirius stared at him, his mouth hanging open as the happy swooping feelings of moments before whooshed out of him. He felt a prickling behind his eyes. “Don’t know,” he mumbled, willing the tears not to come. “You’d think I’d learn not to, by now. Since everyone I love dies. And it’s always my fault.”
“Not everyone you love is dead,” Remus said with a meaningful look.
“Yer no’ happy, are you?” Sirius countered, the tears pushed back by his anger. “And that’s my fault too.”
“How is it your fault?” Remus asked, looking surprised.
“Cause. If I hadn’t gone after Peter, we’d have been together and you wouldn’t be livin’ like this,” he answered, gesturing at the room.
“Oh. I see. What else is your fault?”
“Everything. James an’ Lily. Fact that Harry’s an orphan. Fact that you’re poor.” He hung his head; the tears were coming back.
Remus snorted. “Please.”
His head snapped back. That hadn’t quite been the reaction he was expecting. “What?”
“Next thing I know you’ll be telling me that it’s your fault I’m a werewolf as well, right?”
Sirius stared at him.
“I hate it when you act the martyr!” Remus said, shaking his head angrily. “None of it was your fault ”
“It wasn’t?” Sirius asked, stunned by Remus’s outburst.
“No!” Remus yelled. “You did what you thought you had to
do and you had James and Lily’s permission to switch! There’s no way of knowing that Voldemort wouldn’t have gone after them later on If you think about it, you’ve kept Voldermort from the wizarding world for the last thirteen years; you’re practically a hero!”
“I am?”
“And, while I regret James and Lily’s death every single day,” Remus went on passionately, “it is an unarguable fact that Harry’s circumstances has provided him with abilities he wouldn’t have had or needed if he had grown up with two parents. And besides, it isn’t your fault that Harry’s an orphan, it’s Peter’s!”
“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, aware enough to start arguing the ridiculousness of what Remus was saying. “But who made it possible“”
“You couldn’t have known!” Remus said over him loudly. “You did what you thought was best for them And,” he continued, his eyes boring into Sirius’s intensely, “it is not your fault that I’m poor. Though you did not have to reference the fact so bluntly,” he added grudgingly.
“I’m“”
“STOP BEING SORRY!” Remus bellowed.
Sirius cringed. Much to his dismay, Remus looked as though he was going to slap him.
“You,” he continued severely, “are of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Act that way ”
The tears started to well up again. He didn’t want Remus angry at him on top of everything else. And there was no reason for him to bring up his family either; it was yet another sore Christmastime memory for him. “But“”
Remus moved so sharply, that Sirius thought he actually was going to slap him. He cringed, back against the splintering headboard instinctively. But Remus just got up, nearly pulling the door off its hinges as he yanked it open and left.
Chapter Four by Slian Martreb
Chapter Four
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Sirius commanded himself. Don’t“
Remus stormed back into the room. “I had gotten you something else for Christmas,” he said angrily, “but I’ve decided to give you this instead. Turn to page ninety-six,” he offered, tossing the book onto the bed. “I give up,” he said, sounding weary, and left the room once again.
Sirius was stunned, dumbfounded once again as he listened to the sound of Remus’s footsteps head across the hallway and then down the stairs. Had he even been a part of what had just happened? He was, still slightly drunk, feeling as though the last five minutes had happened to someone else. He stared down at the book, not really seeing it for the first few minutes before picking it up. The title looked vaguely familiar. Peeling golden letters spelled out the words: “Conversations with Myself” and he flipped open the cover to see an inscription gracing the inside cover. The tears spilled out finally as he recognized it at last, unable to believe that Remus still had this lying around as well. And it was a few moments before he could read the words he had written fifteen Christmases ago:
“To Moony,
Here are a few words for you to chew on the nights when we’re apart. Hope you find one that suits both your carnivorous and verbivorous tastes.
Love, Padfoot”
It wasn’t the greatest of inscriptions, and he’d even drawn a silly smiley-face at the end, a testament to how young and easy they had been right after graduation. But it had been a gift he’d spent hours looking for, not knowing until he’d read the first poem that it was what he’d been looking for to begin with. It was a simple poem, granted, but sometimes...sometimes simple was all you needed in love.
He turned the page, and choked. It was still there, the words blurred and smudged by tears, the page crackling from the moisture and salt that had dried on it. He knew the poem by heart, but he read it anyway:
I’m Jealous
I’m jealous of the sun
that gets to shine all day
I’m jealous of the grass
that will forever dance and sway.
I’m jealous of the wind
that says just what it will
I’m jealous of the flowers
standing tall upon the hill.
I’m jealous of the sky
blanketing the earth
I’m jealous of the pouring rain
I can’t imagine its worth.
I’m jealous of the snow
that falls like bits of lace
I’m jealous of the sparkling stars
that garb the heavens with grace.
I’m jealous of the planets
of which there are so few
I’m jealous of the moon
a place few have gone to.
But most of all
you know it’s true
I’m jealous of the air
that’s always touching you.
He’d drawn a winking smiley face next to the word ‘moon’ and had added a ‘y’ at the end, simply writing ‘I love you,” on the bottom of the page.
He had to close his eyes, surrendering once more against the headboard before he could turn to page ninety-six. The title of the poem was ‘Yourself,’ and this page was blurred just like the other had been by fallen tears. His eyes scanned it slowly.
Yourself
No one can save you from yourself
no one can get it done
no one knows what’s to be said
or whether the battle’s won.
No one can save you from yourself
so don’t even let them try
you must raise your own hand
to wipe away tears you cry.
No one can save you from yourself
it’s a task that falls on you
it takes months and years to see it
but you’ll know it when you do.
No one can save you from yourself
from the mess you might have made
while memories still linger on
and your body begins to fade.
No one can save you from yourself
as you lay in bed and wait
for Death to come slowly to you
knowing now that it’s too late.
No one can save you from yourself
so come on, GET UP, and go
don’t let failure come near you
don’t let yourself fall low.
No one can save you from yourself
it’s a fact you must hold dear
don’t let it rule your life
or make you live in fear.
No one can save you from yourself
let this knowledge make you strong
against the restraints and pains of this earth
that somehow seem too long.
No one can save you from yourself
tell me now, do you begin to see?
you are your own ultimate ally
in a mass of strangers, a sea.
No one can save you but yourself
take the burden and rise up
create your own opportunities;
it’s time to overflow your own cup.
No one can save you but yourself
you know the truth is here
no one else can hold this post
now tell me...do you care?
Ah.
He was crying freely now, his own tears falling onto the page and mixing with the already dried ones.
He wasn’t just an idiot, he was a monumental idiot. Warnings should be given, so that other people shouldn’t be as stupid as he had. How had he never seen? It was so obvious to him now, glaringly obvious in fact, even through the haze of his tears.
He collected himself after a few minutes, every bit of the alcohol now burnt from his body, and stumbled from the bed. He padded down the stairs and to the kitchen, physically and emotionally drained to the point of exhaustion, to see Remus sitting at the small wooden table, staring so hard it was a miracle the table hadn’t burst into flames.
A few moments passed before Remus looked up. Sirius was unable to speak; he could feel the pain radiating off of Remus, nearly smell it.
“You aren’t the only one it was hard for,” Remus said finally, his eyes looking into Sirius with an unfathomable amount of hurt within them, buried beneath them.
Sirius choked on a sob as it came up his throat. He had never realized. Had never thought. He was an idiot, just like Remus had said he was.
“And you aren’t the only one who needs saving either,” Remus said, almost accusing, managing to glare at Sirius through the veil of tears now covering his own grey eyes.
Sirius managed a slight nod, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his heart, his life and soul on the line.
“Well?” Remus asked. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Nothing,” Sirius finally managed, getting the words out of his chest.
“Nothing?” Remus echoed with a bitter laugh.
“You’re right,” Sirius said simply. “I am an idiot. What should I say? Can you forgive me?”
“Why should I?” Again, that anger, that deep rooted anger of nearly fourteen years crammed into only three words. It was more than a heart could handle.
Sirius went out on a limb. “Because I did what I thought was best with the information I had.”
There was a pause and then Remus laughed. Weakly, perhaps even a little forced, but he laughed, enough to stop the tears.
A spark of hope glimmered in the darkness that this New Year’s had become.
“You don’t deserve it, you know,” Remus went on, his voice bitter.
Sirius almost gasped at how harshly and suddenly that glimmer went out. “I“”
“Don’t say anything,” Remus warned. “Don’t. Don’t be your arrogant, cocky, I-don’t-give-a-damn-about-anything, casual self and make a joke. It is not funny,” he said, his voice shaking.
It wasn’t. Wasn’t funny for even the barest of moments.
Sirius had never felt so scared in his entire life.
“Why didn’t you come?” Remus asked, his voice almost plaintive.
“I“”
“You’ve been out for over a year now,” Remus went on,
talking over him. “And it’s been months since That Night.”
(Sirius did not know at this moment how he knew that Remus had said that with capital letters. He just did. And he knew that that night in the Shack would forever be spoken about in that way, much the way The Prank had been for all these years. It would never be confused with another prank and that night could not be confused with any other. Life-changing moments were like that.)
Helplessly, he nodded.
He knew immediately that this was the wrong thing to do.
“So why didn’t you come ” Remus yelled, throwing his hands up. “Why didn’t you come?” he asked again, his voice shaking, tears threatening once more.
“I told“I told you, I didn’t want you to be hurt,” Sirius said desperately.
Remus pushed his chair back sharply from the table as he shot up. “Do not lie to me,” he said, his finger shaking in Sirius’s face. “Do not lie to me after, after everything!”
“I was scared,” he said suddenly, the words spilling out, his voice stronger for a moment as he met the storm in Remus’s eyes. For just a moment before he said, his voice trembling, “I thought you wouldn’t want me.”
Remus’s mouth fell open. Actually dropped open in shock before he snapped it back closed again. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. Not that again. You only got one shot with that Sirius.”
“It’s the truth!” Sirius said desperately. Desperate for that understanding they’d had once before to come again. “I thought“after all these years“after what everyone thought I had done“ I thought you’d hate me“”
“No,” Remus said, shaking his head in denial. “No. No! You can’t do that again. It isn’t fair!”
“I’m sorry,” Sirius said, meaning it with everything he had within him. “I“”
“No!” Remus yelled, throwing his hands up“in defeat? In annoyance? Sirius didn’t know. “There’s been enough of my life that hasn’t been fair without you coming and saying that on top of it all!”
“I know,” Sirius said. “I know. And“”
“Do you have any idea of what it was like for me?” Remus asked. “For thirteen years I was utterly alone in this world. Every friend I had was either dead or in prison. I was pitied for having lost James and Peter and mistrusted because you used to be my best friend and I was a werewolf. Don’t you understand?”
“I“”
“But you!” Remus exclaimed, his whole body shaking. “Love was never a question for you Since the day I met you, you either loved someone or you hated them. There was never any middle ground And so you went off to kill Peter as soon as you knew And I did“I did nothing!” he choked out.
A lot of things were beginning to make sense to Sirius now, and he tried to speak, but Remus spoke right over him.
“You didn’t even tell me,” Remus said, his voice trembling. Accusing. “You just went off, without giving me choice! And then you sat in prison for thirteen years for something you didn’t do.” He laughed, bitterly. “Do you know, I don’t think you even care about that. It must have seemed like the most obvious thing in the world for you to do! Peter killed James and Lily, so you were going to kill him. The twelve years must have been worth it for you! And nothing!” Remus said loudly, his hands slicing through the air. “For twelve years I did nothing. And you escaped from Azkaban and the first thing you did was try to find Peter!”
“But“”
“You didn’t come to me,” Remus said, his voice a pained whisper. “Do you know what it was for me, on top of everything, waiting, every single bloody day, thinking you would finally come? And when you didn’t...going to bed telling myself that you’d come tomorrow? Or the day after that? And after that as well? First, when you had escaped, and then in the months since we exposed Peter? Do you have“” He choked on the words as they came up.
“Ah,” went a small voice in Sirius’s mind.
Overwhelmed by how suddenly the tables had been turned, and not knowing quite what else to do, Sirius suddenly found that he was pulling Remus to himself, locking his arms behind Remus’s back.
“Don’t!” came Remus’s muffled cry, buried in the shirt of Sirius’s pajamas. “Don’t“”
“Shut up,” Sirius said, holding him tighter. “Just shut up, would you?” he asked angrily.
Remus did fall silent then. Slowly, his shaking shoulders stilled as they stood there in the dark kitchen. Time seemed to slow within the walls of house while the snow falling on the other side of the window blanketed the earth in peace and stillness.
“Better?” Sirius asked some time later, after Remus had relaxed in his arms.
Remus slowly lifted his head and nodded.
“Good.” He paused, and then blazed ahead. “I wanted to come,” Sirius explained, his voice all calm desperation. Remus had to understand. “It was all that I wanted. For twelve years the thought of explaining my innocence to you kept me sane. Do you understand what that means?”
“I“”
“No. Be quiet,” Sirius commanded. “I’m not finished.” He took a deep breath. “But I had no way of knowing what had happened to you after I had been taken away. And not being able to imagine what life was like for you in those years, I had no way of knowing if you could ever forgive me for“”
“Sirius“”
“No, Remus, I’m not“”
“Sirius“”
Sirius growled. “I’ve known you since I’m eleven and you still don’t let me finish a sentence! Why“”
Remus laughed. An actual, genuine laugh. And Sirius was startled enough to stop talking.
“If I could forgive you for nearly turning me into a murderer in Sixth Year, I can forgive you for not killing James and Lily. I can even forgive you for leaving me to think that you did for thirteen years.”
Sirius stared at Remus, thinking and then, quite without thinking, leaned in and kissed him.
“Better?” Remus asked softly when they finally drew apart for air.
“Much,” Sirius breathed. He wasn’t sure if he was capable of saying more.
“Good,” Remus said, his voice gentle. “Shall we go upstairs then?”
They released each other at the same time, and Sirius now offered his hand instead of his arms. Remus laughed once, the sound shaky, before taking the hand and friendship offered to him. They made their way up the steps. Together.
FIN!
A/N: If you've seen it through to the end, please leave a review!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.