Sirius padded across the damp grass, his ears perked, his paws moving quickly. He was on a mission.
As he neared the edge of the dark tree line, he anticipated his actions. He had been waiting for this moment for fourteen years.
The moon glowed above him as he fell in sync with the dark forest. Walking calmly along the edge, he chose his point of entry abruptly, veering left suddenly and continuing at a fast pace. He walked straight through the thick underbrush of the Forbidden Forrest, not allowing the small branches snapping at his face to affect him. Snatches of moonlight disappeared as the canopy thickened overheard; he had almost reached his destination.
Dim light suddenly flooded his eyes as the leaves spread apart above his head. A small clearing had appeared in front of him, which was exactly what he needed. He stood in the shadows on the edge of the clearing very still, listening closely for any stomp of a hoof or rustle of a leaf, but there was nothing, so he transformed.
Sliding the broken wand out of his pocket, Sirius conjured the message in his head. It’s Voldemort; he’s back. Dumbledore’s rounding us up again, be prepared. Burning the words in thin air, he thought of the happiest moment of his life, and sent his Patronus into the wind before transforming back into a dog. He slid back into the thicket, a new mission on his mind.
*
His hands shook as he poured the scalding liquid into the chipped ceramic cup. Slowly replacing the ashen black kettle on the burner, Remus Lupin returned to his armchair by the window. The cold moonlight cut across his features as his sat in the darkness of the empty room. He sipped his tea quietly, contemplating the rough leather book balanced on his lap.
The school year had just ended, and he had just returned to his small, cluttered home on the outskirts of London. The year had ended with one of the most upsetting, torrential, events. He was back; Voldemort had returned. Wondrously, he had just received a Patronus that he had thought he would never see again. It was in the form of a lion, Sirius’ lion.
Remus had been cautious. The idea of seeing his old friend had brought on a fierce onslaught of memories that he had stored in the back of his mind, trying to forget. Seeing Sirius last year had been like seeing a ghost; a ghost of a friend he had lost. Memories, emotions, feelings, all threatened to flow from his veins. Sirius was in his blood; those moments, standing in front of each other, he swore he could feel his touch on his skin. His body and brain were reacting to the mere sight of him, and it was mind numbing. Seeing him had made his hands shake and his breath go short. He had a hard time thinking straight; every thought went back to Sirius. All the times, hidden in the shadows, all those years before.
He heard an urgent knock on the door resound through his home. Forgetting about the heavy volume in his lap, Lupin pushed himself up from the lumpy chair. The book fell with a thud on his foot; he buckled his knee to take pain from his crushed toes, but it was no help.
Ambling gingerly to his smooth wooden door, he looked through the eyehole, coated with years of grime, and saw him: Sirius Black.
He stood back from the door for a few moments before his emotions got the better of him and he lunged forward to wrench the door open. Instead of seeing his old friend standing in front of him, he had to look down into the eyes of Padfoot. He stepped aside to allow to flee-ridden dog access to his already filthy home.
Pushing the heavy door close slowly, he waited for the click and the glow before turning around. This time he came face to face with him.
“Padfoot.”
“Moony.” His breath tickled Remus’ lips.
Remus looked into the dark eyes of his lost friend. The eyes that he thought he would never see again. They stood there, inches apart, in the reckless mess of Remus’ apartment for hours. Neither felt the need to move or make conversation. There were so many years to make up for, so many years missed that taking in the mere presence of one another was enough.
“I’m staying,” Sirius announced suddenly, keeping his eyes locked on his counterpart. “I’m staying until it gets around that I’m not a mass murderer, then it shall be safe for me in my own dreadful home.”
The corners of his mouth turned up, but the sadness did not leave his fathomless eyes. With the air moving around the room, Remus took this as his opportunity to break his silence.
“Let me show you your accommodations.” Remus pushed passed Sirius, their arms knocking together, and their knuckles stroking. His step faltered before he continued to the small guest bedroom on the far end of the house.
It was attached to the unkempt yellow kitchen, and was made of a small white bed, a chest of drawers, and a lamp. There was nothing at all significant about the room, the walls were white, the floor was a dirty brown, and the pillows were flat.
Sirius had closely followed behind Remus to the room, and he was now standing over his shoulder taking in his bleak room. “Well, if this makes me relive the worst moments in my life, too, you’ll know why Moony.”
Remus’ head snapped around, his shoulder shoving itself into Sirius’ sternum. “That’s not funny, Sirius.”
“Oh, all right Moony! Lighten up; it’s as if you’re Great Aunt Margaret’s just died. I am back, aren’t I?” Sirius’ smile finally reached his eyes, and the light that had once been there re-ignited; they were no longer just remnants of the eyes Remus had once known.
“Yes, I’ll lighten up, no big deal. You’ve just come back, I thought all my mates were dead for fourteen years, and here you all are a year later! Alive and well. Actually, I wouldn’t call Peter well. And obviously James isn’t alive, but you are. And you’re here.” He stopped and stared hard at Sirius before walking away from the doorframe of the bedroom, grabbing his cloak from a coat rack and walking out the front door, closing it silently behind him.
*
He sat in the most worn down chair in the room, the chair he assumed was Remus’. It had to be, it smelled just like him: tea and parchment. There was a large, leather-bound book lying on the floor at his feet. Grasping the fading cover in his hand, he picked up the old book.
All of his very few belongings had been moved into the room that Remus had provided for him. He had stolen a few shirts and pants from stores as Snuffles when the storekeepers’ backs were turned, so he did have a change of clothes. What he didn’t have was a wand, since the one Dumbledore had lent him had gotten lost in his journeys, and how he was going to get one was going to be a challenge.
Looking up from the old book, he noticed the brightness of the moon. It wasn’t full, but it was close, maybe two, three more nights. His heart jumped into his throat as he stared sadly at the lopsided orb, reminiscing on nights past. The Marauders would shine on those nights along with the moon; they were together, a camaraderie.
He distantly heard the door open and close as he continued to stare wistfully at the haunting moon. The dark figure moved about the house, but did not make a noise before shutting the door to his respective bedroom. Sirius stayed in this spot all night, not moving his head. He was used to sleepless nights, and having them in peace was almost refreshing.
After many hours, the lazy sun began to rise in the east, and the moon began to fade, along with his nostalgic memories.
*
He woke suddenly to the sound of grease sizzling in a frying pan. His place in Remus’ chair was unmoved, but the book was no longer in his lap and a blanket was splayed across his ruined body. Unsteadily standing up from his cramped bed, Sirius stumbled across the small room, throwing the blanket on an unknowing pile of forgotten books and getting a poof of dust in return.
“Moony, you really ought to do something about the dirt in this place. I can’t breathe normally,” Sirius said with a grunt before slamming the door to his room.
*
After cooking eggs and toast, Remus made a pot of tea, setting the kitchen table for two. When the steam began to pour from the spout of the kettle and a sheer whistle escalated through the room, he cast a quick silencing charm before hurrying over to the stove.
He stared worriedly at Sirius’ door, hoping he hadn’t woken him, but at the same time yearning to see him pull the drab door from its frame. The steam from the tea curled into wisps in the dim light of the kitchen, causing Remus’ thin hair to frizz as he bent over the mug to pour it.
Patiently moving back to his spot at the table, he waited for his friend to wake. The paper was spread evenly in front of him, the headline blaring, Minister Moves for House Elf Reforms! He stared absently at the moving picture of the pointy-eared, squat beings in front of him as he waited.
Sirius had always been a late sleeper. He had been the last one to rise, and James had been the first. Remus didn’t know what he was thinking expecting Sirius to wake at this hour. Quickly eating his food, Remus placed a Warming Charm on Sirius’ plate before folding the paper neatly next to it.
Scrawling a quick note on a torn edge of the paper, Remus left the house with a swish of his thin robes.
*
He pulled his eyes apart, one at a time, allowing the light to slowly creep in. The house was silent; no rustle of robes, no more sizzle of bacon. Judging by the brightness of the sun, it was near midday. He pushed himself stiffly off the hard bed and sat, waiting for his dizziness to wan. For the past fourteen years, his sleep pattern had been so irregular that having the grace of normal time was almost unwelcome.
Dragging his feet across the uneven carpet, he caught the scent of eggs and toast in the air. A grin sloppily appeared on his face as he spotted his plate on the table. His long fingernails scratched the table as he greedily grabbed the fork to eat the delicacy he had been deprived off for so long.
Grasping the side of the plate for leverage, his hand quickly sprang off the edge as he let out a hiss of pain.
“Warming charm”” He grinned down at his newly blistered palm. “Moony.”
Carefully avoiding the plate, he continued his gluttonous endeavour. When he had wiped the plate clean, he piled it in the sink. There was a high stack of plates that was swaying dangerously in the sink, the dust on the windows and floors was clearly visible, and every colour the house used to be had been turned brown by age.
When the sun began to fade below the trees, small flashes finding their way through the gaps in the branches, Remus’ small cottage had been cured. Sirius had spent the day skipping about the cottage cleaning every inch with a chipped wand he had found in Remus’ dresser.
The windows were clear, the floor was white, and the dust was missing. Towering piles of books had been slipped into the empty slots on the cobweb-ridden bookshelves.
“Scourgify,” he chanted gaily as the front door to the now spotless house was shoved open.
“Hello, dear Remus. Don’t you like what I’ve done with the place,” he gestured absently behind him. “Much brighter, livelier.”
Remus’ eyes shot around the room, finally landing on his friend. “Where’d you get the wand?”
Slowly slipping the scratched wooden stick from his back pocket, Sirius waved it lazily in front of Remus’ squinted eyes. “Found it.”
Contrary to Sirius’ beliefs, Remus’ eyes squinted closer together. “In my dresser. You were going through my things.”
“Essentially. But Moony, look at your place!” Lamely attempting to take the light off of himself, Sirius rushed around the house pointing to specific areas that had been cleaned.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as a smile grew on his lips. His house hadn’t been this clean in years; he had never had the time or the energy to clean it.
“Yes, thanks very much Padfoot. It’s very kind of you.” Remus pulled a long, thin, red leather box out of his cloak and balanced in his palm. “Got you something.” The smile was still visible.
“No. Moony, you didn’t. I owe you, please let me pay you back.” He roughly threw the top of the box off and the smooth wooden stick rolled into his outstretched hand. “I haven’t… This is my own… My own wand. This is my first wand in fourteen years, Remus.” He began laughing manically. “I’m all grown up, Moony! I’m of age all over again. How childish.”
Sirius walked quickly to Remus’ favourite chair and sat down, never taking his eyes off the wand. Chuckling softly, Remus walked into his dark bedroom, closing the door quietly.
*
Remus and Sirius fell into a pattern of living. Forced to stay at the house, Sirius would organise and enchant the small living quarters, and Remus would sometimes stay and visit, or he would go to Hogwarts for the day. Unknown to Remus, Sirius would sneak out as Snuffles and explore his long-missed world.
Slowly, Sirius and Remus began to remember each other. The way Remus only had eggs sunny-side up; Sirius’ necessity for the morning paper.
One day, Sirius did not wait long enough to transform into Snuffles after Remus left, and he was inevitably caught.
“What are you thinking? They know what your Animagus form is, Sirius. The Death Eaters know, and they are everywhere. You would be recognized. How could you be so careless! You cannot take risks so soon into this, you are not safe at all,” Remus said as he paced in front of Sirius’ still form.
Sirius looked down before he stated, “you can’t expect me to stay locked up all””
“Yes! Yes, I can. You are here to be discrete, not obvious.” Remus stopped his rapid movement and planted his feet in front of Sirius.
“It’s Muggle London, Moony! I will be fine,” Sirius pleaded. He would not be able to stay locked in a house for much longer, it was the same principle as a cell, minus the Dementors.
Remus swayed a bit on the spot, his feet still unmoving. “You don’t get it, do you?” He paused, his voice dangerously low. “You’ve just come back, Padfoot. Everything was taken from me for fourteen hard years. It’s not just you that has been locked up in a cell for all this time.” He cast Sirius one last mournful look before leaving the small house with the quiet click of the door.
Sirius sat down in the chair, the air rushing out of his lungs. Throwing his head back in despair, he rubbed his eyes before drifting off into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of doorless rooms.
*
Before he knew what was happening, he was slammed against a wall, his back aching, two painfully strong hands clasping his shoulders. There was a moment of hesitation, of thought, the hands grasped harder, tighter; surely there would be bruises there tomorrow.
Hot lips were on his, his body pressed hard against the wall, he grasped at the face, the arms, anything, and shoved him closer.
As quickly as it happened, it was over. The man moved across to the counter and roughly seized a rumpled piece of parchment.
“Here’s a letter from Dumbledore, get out of my house,” a bitter voice range through the shocked silence. Sirius looked at him, just stared. He feebly took the letter from Remus’ hand and unfolded the parchment.
Dear Snuffles,
Everything is ready here; I hope your time visiting has been wonderful. We are ready for you to return home.
Sincerely,
D.
“But Moony”” Sirius moved towards him, but stopped when Remus cut across his plea.
“I said get out, Pads. You think I’m joking? I’m not.” Remus stared at him with hard eyes. Sirius searched them, wondering what had just happened, and he found the last thing he was expecting: hurt.
He bowed his head and gave a small nod, moving around Remus without so much as glancing at him. After he had collected his few possessions, he walked to the door, but paused. Remus hadn’t moved from where he was standing, the hurt more evident than ever in his grey eyes.
Turning, he opened his mouth to ask a question, or say goodbye, but he couldn’t find the words. He looked at his friend. They had just found each other again, and now there were fourteen years to make up.
He opened the door and stepped outside, but before closing it he said, “you know where I will be, Moony.” He waited for Remus’ eyes to shift from their spot on the floor, but they did not, so he closed the door quietly and morphed.