“…Harry was still staring at the archway, angry at Sirius now for keeping him waiting…”
-J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Sirius sprinted down the block and around several corners before finally looking back to make sure the police weren’t on his trail. The stitch in his side was like Fiendfyre; he definitely hadn’t waited the allotted thirty minutes after eating to exercise. As he doubled over in pain and sat down on the uneven curb, he realized that he hadn’t properly exercised in over a decade. He had spent the recent months cooped up at Grimmauld Place, and before that, locked up in Azkaban Prison. During his youth, he and James used to go for midnight runs in their Animagus forms, but of course those days were long gone.
Thinking about James made Sirius clench his fists with anger. How could he go off like that and have a kid with somebody who wasn’t Lily? Even if what Reg said was true, if Hogwarts somehow didn’t exist… James and Lily were soul mates. Who cares if they never went to the same school? They were made for each other, damn it! The rage boiled inside his gut, making him feel like he was going to vomit.
Doubtful that it would work, Sirius held out his wand arm in hope that the Knight Bus was somewhere out there. Perhaps it didn’t even count as a “wand arm,” considering the fact that he couldn’t get his wand to do little more than twirl between his fingers, but it was worth a try.
After several long minutes, his arm grew very tired. The Knight Bus never arrived.
Sirius had been expecting this to happen; but even so, it brought his morale down, and it had already reached rock bottom after his encounter with James. There was probably no Number Twelve either. In a fit of frustration, he kicked his wand aside into the gutter, only to pick it up again and wipe off the mud with his shirt. Even if it seemed worthless, his wand was the sole proof that the real world hadn’t been just a fantasy. He examined it, weighing it in his hand. Its handle was substantially larger than the one he had purchased so many years ago, back when he was eleven and relatively ignorant of the horrors of the world. That wand, however, had been snapped in half when he was sentenced to life in Azkaban. This wand had been recently given to him by Albus Dumbledore.
Sirius tucked the wand into his back pocket and stood up. Surely finding a crumpet-thief wouldn’t be at the top of the Muggle police’s priority list, and after all, he was a professional at running from the law. In an attempt to calm his racing mind, he decided to go for a walk rather than remain on the curb and wait for something to happen. He had never been a patient man.
Staying on the side-streets, Sirius wandered aimlessly around Muggle London in an attempt to forget his worries. This attempt failed. The love for one’s godson cannot be easily forgotten.
It was nearly dusk, and Sirius had already seen at least four men and one woman who he could have sworn looked exactly like Regulus from behind. None of them were his brother. He hadn’t originally set out to search for Reg, but now it seemed like that was his goal for the night. Maybe if he could find him sober, he could get some more information out of him. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way back to the real world, back to Harry.
As the sun began to set, Sirius realized that he needed to find a place to stay for the night. Rubbing the back of his neck, he resolved that he would not sleep on a park bench for a second night in a row. He came upon a cobblestone street lined with red brick apartment buildings on one side and nasty-looking thorn bushes on the other. A dozen or so Muggle vehicles were parked along the roadside. It was silent, but the silence was suddenly shattered by a high-pitched scream of frustration.
“I’ve had enough of this nonsense!” Sirius heard an angry female voice coming from about two or three doors down. “It’s over!” Suddenly the door swung open and a familiar-looking man staggered out, falling backwards down the front stairs. A pile of hardcover books flew after him, and one of the particularly thick ones got him square in the face.
“But Sharon, I…” the man started to say.
“Don’t ‘but Sharon’ me! It’s over! Now get out of my sight, you worthless, dreaming bastard!” The woman slammed the door without another word.
Sirius gaped stupidly at the man, who smiled back up at him weakly and began to gather up the scattered books. He was just as Sirius had known him, only his face was less scarred and his eyes were a little less tired. However, this man was without a doubt Remus John Lupin. Out of the blue, one of the Muggle vehicles beeped twice. He pulled open the door and slumped over into the front seat.
As hesitantly and amiably as he possibly could, Sirius walked over to the vehicle and knocked lightly on the glass window, which suddenly rolled down, as if by magic. This wonder raised his spirits significantly.
“Sorry you had to see that,” Remus said with a tinge of pink in his face. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, I was wondering if I could ask you something,” Sirius said as he admired the inside of the car.
“Go for it.”
He looked directly into Remus’ eyes with a grave expression on my face. “Do you know who I am?”
Remus frowned. “I can’t say that I do. Wait, no “ did you go to Durham?” Sirius shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t recall ever meeting you.”
“Your name is Remus, right? Remus Lupin?” Taken aback, Remus began to shuffle through his stack of books nervously.
“Nobody’s called me ‘Remus’ since I was nine years old. The name’s Remy.”
Sirius couldn’t help himself; he snorted with laughter. “Remy? Ah, that suits you quite well.”
“I’m not in the mood for a practical joke at the moment, in case you haven’t noticed. Are you being serious, or is this some sort of sick comedy?”
“I’m always Sirius,” he replied with a smile, wondering how rich he would be if he had a Sickle for every time James had used that very same pun. Remus sighed, and the window began to magically roll back up again, nearly decapitating Sirius in the manner of a guillotine. “Wait! Wait! I can explain everything! Just show me how you did that!”
At that moment, a strange connection occurred between the two men, an incomprehensible understanding, if ever such an oxymoron could exist. “Remy” smiled roguishly and gestured for Sirius to come sit to his left, which he did willingly. Sirius grinned sideways at his new companion: they had a lot of catching up to do.
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Behind the Curtain by Virgil
Chapter Notes: This chapter is dedicated to James Horner, who wrote the score for “Avatar,” which I was listening to while writing this.
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you for reading! Remember, reviews=love. The fourth and final chapter will be installed shortly.