With Cleansing Breath, Part VI
Title: With Cleansing Breath, Part VI
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: R
Type: multi-chap, angst, slash
Summary: Remus remembers the good times he had with Sirius, the days and nights they spent together in their house. But he must not forget to live in the present and will struggle to find out who he really is - this time alone without his mate. When he finally gets his life on track, the first love of his life makes another appearance and throws everything off balance.
Author’s Note: Fits into my The Sharing of Breath universe, but hopefully written in such a way that reading the first two stories are not necessary. Begins shortly after Sirius is sent to Azkaban and goes through the fifth book. Unbetaed.
( Part I )
( Part II )
( Part III )
( Part IV )
( Part V )
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PART VI
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He ended up spending his first night away from Hogwarts at Dahlia’s. Sometime around daybreak, Remus woke up. He was alone in the room. He got up and slipped into the shower. Changing clothes quickly afterwards, he went through the house to the kitchen, where he knew Dahlia sat when the children were at school. She did the finances, read books. More often than not, she used something called a PowerBook to tap out stories that she sold to magazines around London. Remus was envious of her talent, but she had always said she was jealous of his knack for teaching. “When you touch someone’s life, you can see it. I have to hear about it a letter and that’s not nearly as satisfying,” she had told him once.
“I wanted to say thank you,” said Remus.
Dahlia looked up from her PowerBook. “For what?”
“Letting me stay here last night. I suppose I was a bit out of my head.”
“That’s all right. I don’t mind. The guestroom is yours for as long as you like it.”
Remus shook his head. “No, I’m going to find a flat today and if I can’t find one, then I’ll go to a hotel for a few days. I really shouldn’t be here when your children are home.”
“I trust you around them.”
“I don’t mean that.” Remus shifted his weight to the other foot. “It’s simply that they don’t know me and we’re not together.”
Dahlia nodded. “I understand, but you don’t have to go until you’re ready. What you told me last night, about Sirius being innocent and everything is big stuff to deal with you, you know? I still cannot believe they made you quit your job because you were gay.”
“Er,” said Remus, remembering that the night before he had told Dahlia that one of his colleagues had outed his secret (he just failed to mention which secret it was). “It’s for the best.”
Dahlia nodded, understanding. Remus gave her a kiss on the cheek before heading back to the guestroom to gather his things. It took him a couple days to find a suitable flat. Luckily for him, he had magic to mend leaky ceilings and to ward any room against cockroaches and rats. However, the flat he finally chose wasn’t infested with anything too disgusting, but there were cracks in the walls and the windows were stained brown and foggy. Remus took it and the same day he moved in, did several cleaning and repairing charms. The flat became livable and was relatively cheap.
Visitors were far and in between over the next few months. Word had gotten around the magical community that Remus was a werewolf. He wasn’t recognizable by face, but when he applied for tutoring jobs for some of the wealthiest wizarding families, they found out who - or what - he was very quickly and never owled him back. There was nothing he could do except get a job in a Muggle restaurant or retail store. The prospect didn’t make Remus very happy.
He ended up using some of his money that he had saved from his salary at Hogwarts to pay for part of his flat each month. There was enough money coming in from part time tutoring jobs that he could feed himself and pay the water bills. He didn’t use electricity because he had a wand and could cast a powerful enough Lumos charm to keep his flat lit for hours at a time. Working a job that had a steadier paycheck might have been better financially, but Remus couldn’t imagine ever having to go back to working a Muggle job like he had before at the café. He knew what it was like to teach and he could never do anything else.
Remus wrote Harry exactly twice that year. He asked him about the Tri-Wizard Championship and that he hoped all was well at Hogwarts, that he heard Alastor Moody would be a good professor, despite the bit about him being mad. The second time Harry wrote back, he mentioned Sirius. Nothing specific, but simply that Sirius had written him. Remus crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the fireplace, cursing Sirius under his breath. He could contact Harry but not him? They had both left Hogwarts in June and it was now November and not a single word or letter. It was driving Remus mad.
The only other owl he received was from Dumbledore. The note was fairly short and direct.
Remus,
I daresay I have no excuse for keeping this as long as I have. You allowed me access to your old home to try and collect any evidence regarding Sirius Black. It was several months after the arrest and your house was mostly empty, but I stumbled upon this and I thought I should take it for safe keeping. One day you would want it back. I think I have kept it for far too long and I hope you forgive my misjudgment. Though, perhaps this is the right time to give it back to you.
I have been hearing rumors from faraway about the past. Wormtail has gone and I believe him to be searching for his old Master. If he hasn’t found him yet, he will soon. Keep your eyes and ears open. Alert me to anything you hear. I believe the time has come for the old crowd to become reacquainted. When that time is definite, I will send word if you are still willing to fight with us.
Humbly yours,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
From the envelope fell a familiar-looking ring. The metal felt heavy in Remus’ hand and he shoved it in the pocket of his pajama bottoms, not sure he was willing to relive the memory of the day he and Sirius both put on those matching rings. They weren’t together anymore and the memories were painful. Remus was someone else’s lover now.
Dahlia’s children stayed at their father’s flat two weekends a month. He picked them up from school every Tuesday and Thursday and helped them with their homework, took them out for dinner. Dahlia said the divorce was on hold, that they were on speaking terms, but nothing was finalized. The children sensed that things were less stressful between their parents, but Dahlia and Edmund weren’t sure where they stood.
When her children were away, Remus spent time at her house. They drank bottles of red wine and Dahlia let him read drafts of her latest stories. He critiqued them thoughtfully, told her when they were brilliant and when they were crap. When the wine had replaced the blood in their veins, they’d fuck and fall asleep with the sweat still drying on their skin. Neither of them wanted a relationship with the other, but they were comfortable with each other. It was soothing, freeing. It allowed them to take time away from thinking of their failed relationships.
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Remus and Sirius’ life together was defined by a series of firsts. There first kiss happened in the boys’ dormitories at Hogwarts. It took months of buildup to get to that point. Sirius was reluctant and in denial. Remus was scared and confused. But it happened at the end of seventh year. It came with a lot of shaky nerves and foggy thoughts, embarrassing hard-ons that refused to go away.
The first time they had sex was a year after their first kiss. Remus brought the subject up and he was the first to surrender. Sirius tried to be careful, but it wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences. Still, the connection was worth something and Remus wanted to try again. And they did, many, many times. It took threatening to breakup for Sirius to finally surrender and that was a first for Remus as well, the first time he took Sirius. It was a brilliant first, for Sirius discovered he liked it; he liked being on the receiving end.
The first time either of them said the word “love” was the same day Sirius found out that his brother was a Death Eater. Regulus had been spotted with Lucius Malfoy. It had put Sirius in a daze. He was angry and felt betrayed. His parents were giant sods, he’d always said, but they weren’t fighting on Voldemort’s side, but Regulus was. Remus said it first, though he hadn’t planned on it. It slipped out in an explanation over why he didn’t want to move into Sirius’ house yet . . . it’s not as though I don’t want to move in because I don’t love you. . . . It was the first time they said it to anyone, the first time they meant it. They didn’t say it often, but said it enough that neither of them doubted the magic of the words.
The first time they lived with anyone outside of school was with one another. January 1980. The box full of Remus’ things was a belated Christmas gift to Sirius. It was the first time they called the house theirs, referring to everything as ours - our bed, our kitchen, our overgrown back garden. It was the first time they had argued with anyone about trivial matters like the proper cleaning spells to use on the pots and pans or whose turn it was to wash the bed linens.
The first time they had secrets from one another was in that last year. Remus didn’t tell Sirius about jumping from werewolf pack to werewolf pack, trying to find the one that had wolves working for Voldemort. He hid the cuts and bites he endured during the changes and lived with the guilt of keeping such a monumental secret.
The first time Sirius cried over Remus was because of that secret. He found out about it during the Christmas holiday and several months later, that next May, followed Remus when he went to join yet another werewolf group. Remus got hurt and Sirius had taken him home, tried to heal him. As Remus slept, Sirius cried. He cried for Remus’ injuries and he cried because he thought he was losing his lover, his best mate, the man who had given him one of a pair of matching rings. He was losing him to Dark magic, to werewolves who understood his pain. Sirius could never compete with that level of understanding, of knowing the moon.
The first time Remus cried over Sirius was the morning after Halloween. He read through a stack of owls on his kitchen table, confused that there were so many, wondering why Sirius hadn’t come back the night before. Remus’ tears didn’t come until he read the headline in the Daily Prophet. Somehow, those words in their permanent black ink turned the letters written by Dumbledore and his family into truth.
Their relationship was also defined by lasts. Somehow, those lasts were more memorable than the firsts. The last kiss came right before the last words. I’m going to check on James and Lily. Then, Sirius’ lips pressed against Remus’ and while his eyes whispered love, his mouth said nothing.
The last time they made love was in October. It was a perfect bonding, where first Sirius was on top, his chest curved around Remus’ back, then they switched positions and came at the same time, Remus inside Sirius, Sirius’ hand stroking his own cock.
The last time Sirius said “I love you” was in September. There was no reason, no occasion. They were laying on their backs behind their house, looking at the stars, trying to remember the things they had learned in Astronomy class. They could see Mars, see a couple of constellations, but mostly the knowledge was lost in the folds of their minds.
The last time Remus said “I love you” was after Harry’s first birthday. They went to James and Lily’s house, brought presents, and ate chocolate cake. Harry stood on his own, but couldn’t take more than a step or two before falling on his diaper-cushioned bum. He babbled and didn’t say anything that made sense to anyone. Harry fell asleep on Sirius’ lap and he held the boy, sitting on the settee. Lily went to clean up from dinner, refusing Remus’ help, and James went with her. Sitting next to Sirius, Remus kissed the corner of his mouth, whispering words to him. I know you want that . . . a baby . . . but I can’t give it to you. . . . You’re going to have to settle for just me for the rest of your life. . . . I wish I could give it to you, but I can’t. . . . I hope loving you will be enough for you . . . because I do love you, more than anything. . . .
Now, their lives hung together by a new last and a new first. It had been the first time they’d seen one another in twelve years. But it had also been the last.
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A knocking from the other room woke Remus up in the middle of the night. When he looked at his clock, it was just about midnight, meaning it was officially Christmas. Happy Christmas indeed, thought Remus as he got up and sleepily shuffled to the front door. He pulled it open, his wand in his hand at the ready.
“Christ, Padfoot. Get in here.”
Padfoot walked through the door. When Remus closed it, Sirius became human again. His robes were dirty and tattered, his hair longer than ever. He was too thin and too pale. There was a tension between them, so thick Remus could practically touch it.
“Happy Christmas,” said Sirius dully. “This is where you live, then, is it?”
“How’d you know?”
“I asked Dumbledore. He didn’t seem to think you would mind my coming here.”
Remus nodded. “Would you like a drink or something to eat?”
Sirius laughed; it sounded hoarse and dry. “Drink is fine. I’m cold.”
The table Remus used to eat off of was just behind the sofa. He got a bottle of scotch that was half-full from the kitchen counter and set it on the table. Sirius had already seated himself, his fingers massaging his temples. Remus got two glasses and sat across from Sirius.
“I have some clean clothes, if you want them,” said Remus, pouring the scotch in Sirius’ glass. He was careful to look at the brown liquid instead of at Sirius. He filled his own glass and put it to his lips, drinking half of it in one gulp.
“Careful. You can’t hold your liquor very well.”
“That was then,” mumbled Remus. He dared look at Sirius. “Do you hate me?”
Sirius laughed. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because I spent twelve years thinking you were guilty. . . . Twelve years forcing myself to forget about you . . . to fall out of love with you.”
“Did you succeed?”
Remus swallowed the rest of his scotch. “Yes.”
Sirius laughed again and covered his eyes with his hands. “Oh good Christ,” he said.
“Do you hate me?”
Sirius shook his head and lowered his hands. “No. You forgave me countless times for being an idiot. I forgive you.”
“I didn’t want you to be guilty. How did you stay sane in that place?”
“You think I’m sane? I’m barely hanging on here, Remus. I’ve been living in caves, starving myself. I’ve changed into Padfoot a couple times and begged food off some people in Hogsmeade, but I think a couple of them are getting suspicious - y’know, because I’m a very well-trained dog.”
“You don’t have to stay near Hogwarts.”
“I’ve been traveling. It’s been rather difficult with Buckbeak, but I’ve managed. He’s at the old house, now. Our old house, that is. Completely abandoned and run down and a piece of shit.”
“I’ve no doubt.”
“I think about you, though. A lot.”
Remus was quiet; he had no idea what to say.
“At Azkaban, I tried to escape a couple times. There wasn’t any magic there to keep me in the cell. I came so close, but then I just . . . gave up - gave up trying to leave, I mean. I still had this hope. I don’t know where the bloody fuck it came from, but it was there. For a while I . . .” Sirius trailed off and took a long sip of his scotch. “I thought of you - us. I suppose the dementors are supposed to suck all those thoughts out of us - the happy ones, I mean. But they didn’t. I don’t know why, but I’d relive those moments on the street corner, when I realized that Peter - fucking Peter Pettigrew - had outsmarted me. But, you, Remus, my god, I thought of you and it kept me sane.”
Sirius laughed again, a bit hysterically, and Remus had to look away. Sirius’ skin stretched over his face, gaunt like a ghost. His eyes held more life in them now, but they weren’t the same eyes Remus remembered. They had the hollow look of mental torture.
“I have to confess something, though.”
Remus looked back at him. “Go on.”
“The last couple years I didn’t really think of anything. I just transformed until someone came to inspect the prisons, then I’d go back to human form. Seeing Peter in that newspaper gave me all the strength I never had before. I wanted to slaughter him - torture him. I figured after all those years I’d already lost you, but I was going to be damned if I was going to lose Harry, too. Even if he didn’t remember me.”
“Do you still love me?” Remus wasn’t sure where the question came from; it had just escaped from his mouth.
Sirius shrugged. “Remus, I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about anything anymore. I’m lost. I’m nothing. What do I have? Look at me. I’m a walking skeleton - a shell, a ghost. I don’t feel like I’m anything. I can’t have anyone see me. Harry’s stuck at school trying not to die and I’m - I’m useless.” Sirius slammed his fist on the table. “Really, it’s my own fault.”
“Why would you say that? Don’t be an idiot, Sirius.”
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“My name.”
“Sirius.”
“Again.”
“Sirius.”
“You’ve no idea how amazing it sounds to hear you say that.”
“I loved you so much,” whispered Remus. “So much.”
“I don’t have anything to offer you anymore. All I have is what you see. The money - I can’t really touch it, but even if I could, you wouldn’t want it. I’m different now.”
“I know. It’s all right. Even if” - Remus cleared his throat - “we can’t go back, we can go forward. You’re still my best friend. Now, tell me why you think it’s your fault.”
“You were with the werewolves, remember? Trying to find information on Voldemort’s whereabouts.”
“Yes, I remember. Lovely time in my life.”
Sirius sniggered. “Right, well, the way you talked sometimes, about how you were an animal - like you were first a werewolf and then a man. Even though I always thought of you as a man and not a wolf. But you talked about how the lycanthropes you met understood you. I thought you liked them better than me - I should’ve known better - you’d never go rouge. Still, I thought you were the spy, Remus. My god, I was an idiot!”
“I don’t understand one thing,” said Remus. “Why would you change being Secret-Keeper and have Peter do it? I mean, I know that the reasoning was that no one would expect Peter, useless, blithering idiot that he was. But if they had tried to find him and he wasn’t the spy, he would’ve given up the information at the first Crucio. You would’ve let the Death Eaters kill you before you told them where James and Lily were.”
Sirius shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t understand, do you? I thought you were the spy, Remus! I would’ve have told any of the Death Eaters, but I would’ve told you. I would’ve told you anything. You were my weakness.”
Remus poured himself more scotch. “I’ve been sleeping with Dahlia for a year.”
“Who the fuck is Dah - oh. Oh. You’re not serious? Is she your girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“I don’t know,” said Remus, shaking his head. “I feel as though I need to confess it.”
“Don’t feel guilty. We’re not together.”
Remus reached into his pajama pocket and pulled out the ring. He’d kept it there since he got it in the letter. “Dumbledore gave this to me. I left it at your house. I went back once to pack up my things, but I left this behind. I thought of burning the whole house, but that seemed rather dramatic and you were always the one for melodrama. It didn’t feel like my right to burn your house.”
“Our house.”
“After you were arrested I tried to think of it as yours. I wanted to sever all ties with you. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing!” snapped Sirius. “I thought you were on Voldemort’s side! It’s why I couldn’t let myself be Secret-Keeper.”
“I tried to love other people,” confessed Remus. “But I couldn’t. I thought everyone was going to betray me. I couldn’t trust anyone. I ruined every chance I had at another relationship.”
“You’ve never had one since I left?” asked Sirius, the dismay evident in his voice.
“No, I had . . . someone. Once. A little over a year after you were arrested. It lasted a couple years, but it wasn’t nearly as perfect as we had been. Once that was finished, I just stopped trying to find anyone. I gave in to certain urges sometimes, when I couldn’t deal with another night by myself, but for the most part I’ve been alone. Last Christmas I was overwhelmed with the papers about your escape and seeing Harry every day - I could hardly stand it so I went to Dahlia’s. We’ve been friends for a decade or so by now. We’re not together, but she lets me just be myself.”
“I let you be yourself.”
“You’ve been on the run since June,” retorted Remus, “and this is the first time I’ve seen you. You haven’t written either.”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“Harry said you wrote him.”
“He’s my godson.”
“And what am I?”
“I don’t know!” Sirius shot back the rest of the scotch in his glass. “That’s why I didn’t write! I didn’t know who you were or who you had. I didn’t want to write and ruin your life. I mean - what if you had a wife or a girlfriend and she didn’t know you lived with another man? Had sex with a man?”
“I would never lie about my sexual preferences.”
“So now you’ve slept with women, which do you prefer?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Who was that relationship with? A man?”
Remus nodded. “Yes. He was a professor of mine-”
Sirius interrupted with a howl of laughter. “Your professor? That’s right dirty, Remus.”
“I don’t think you’re one to judge.”
“Probably not. God, a professor, eh? Brilliant.” Sirius looked at Remus in a way that made him squirm in his seat.
“I missed you,” said Remus. “Even when I had convinced myself I didn’t miss you anymore, I missed you. This is really strange for me, to have you back.”
“It’s strange to be back.”
“I’ve some clean clothes. There’s towels in the bathroom if you want to shower. I’ve an extra toothbrush, too.”
“Are you suggesting I smell?”
“I’m suggesting that you knocked on my door after midnight and you’re probably tired.”
“Oh. Well, yes, a shower would be brilliant. I can sleep on the settee-”
“You can sleep with me,” said Remus softly. “Unless you want to sleep in here. The couch sags. It’s old. My bed is bigger.”
Sirius nodded. “All right.”
“I’ll set some clothes out for you. They might be too short, but they’ll also be too big. You’re too skinny. I’ll buy some more food tomorrow so you can eat something other than scraps only worthy for dogs.”
“I appreciate it.”
Remus nodded and stood up. As he walked towards the door to the bedroom, Sirius reached out and grabbed hold of his arm.
“Don’t blame yourself. I forgive you. I’d forgive you a thousand times if it only meant we could go back to the way things used to be - but I’m different and you’re a new man, now. I don’t know you anymore.”
“You can get to know me,” said Remus. “Ask me anything.”
Sirius searched Remus’ eyes. Remus swallowed, unsure what Sirius was going to ask.
“When you were with other men . . .”
“What?”
“Did you let them . . .”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to ask, but I always topped, if that’s what you’re hinting at. No other man ever took me. That was an act I thought belonged to you.”
“Could you ever love me again?”
After a long pause, Remus said, “I don’t know.” He looked at Sirius, trying to find meaning in his gaze. “I wish I could tell you that I could, that we could go back to how we were once, but we need stability. We can’t go six months without seeing one another.”
Sirius nodded. “I know.” He got up and went to the bathroom.
Remus heard the water run and went to his room. He laid under the blankets in his bed, turning on his side. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he knew it was impossible. Sirius came in after nearly thirty minutes in the shower. He smelled like soap as he got next to Remus in the bed. The distance between them was only a matter of inches, but it felt like miles.
“Remus?”
Remus turned over and looked at Sirius. Never before had the man looked so lost, so confused, so dejected. His eyes were still haunted by his years in prison, the fear and sadness still etched in the tight pull of his skin over his cheekbones.
“Can you just . . .”
“What is it, Pads?”
Sirius closed his eyes at the sound of his old nickname. Pads, he mouthed and smiled. “Can you hold me? Just until I fall asleep? I’ve been sleeping in caves and forests and places. I hardly remember what a bed feels like.”
Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius, waiting to feel that pull of love, of attraction, that he had grown so accustomed to when they had been partners so many years before. But the feelings didn’t come and that left Remus confused and hurt. Part of him really wanted to love Sirius again. The best times of his life had been with Sirius, their limbs tangled together, their bodies pressed so tightly together there was no separation - no clearly defined Remus or Sirius, just one body with two souls.
When they woke up hours later, they ate breakfast together. Sirius left while Remus took a shower. He left a note apologizing and Remus didn’t see him for another sixth months, this time at the end of June, when he came back to the flat, saying he had orders from Dumbledore.
“I’m supposed to lie low at Lupin’s,” Sirius told Remus. “Alert the old crowd. So here I am. Lying low and alerting you. Can I stay?”
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To Be Continued . . .
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As always, links to all my fics (divided up by pairings) can be found here: Click Me
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: R
Type: multi-chap, angst, slash
Summary: Remus remembers the good times he had with Sirius, the days and nights they spent together in their house. But he must not forget to live in the present and will struggle to find out who he really is - this time alone without his mate. When he finally gets his life on track, the first love of his life makes another appearance and throws everything off balance.
Author’s Note: Fits into my The Sharing of Breath universe, but hopefully written in such a way that reading the first two stories are not necessary. Begins shortly after Sirius is sent to Azkaban and goes through the fifth book. Unbetaed.
( Part I )
( Part II )
( Part III )
( Part IV )
( Part V )
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PART VI
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He ended up spending his first night away from Hogwarts at Dahlia’s. Sometime around daybreak, Remus woke up. He was alone in the room. He got up and slipped into the shower. Changing clothes quickly afterwards, he went through the house to the kitchen, where he knew Dahlia sat when the children were at school. She did the finances, read books. More often than not, she used something called a PowerBook to tap out stories that she sold to magazines around London. Remus was envious of her talent, but she had always said she was jealous of his knack for teaching. “When you touch someone’s life, you can see it. I have to hear about it a letter and that’s not nearly as satisfying,” she had told him once.
“I wanted to say thank you,” said Remus.
Dahlia looked up from her PowerBook. “For what?”
“Letting me stay here last night. I suppose I was a bit out of my head.”
“That’s all right. I don’t mind. The guestroom is yours for as long as you like it.”
Remus shook his head. “No, I’m going to find a flat today and if I can’t find one, then I’ll go to a hotel for a few days. I really shouldn’t be here when your children are home.”
“I trust you around them.”
“I don’t mean that.” Remus shifted his weight to the other foot. “It’s simply that they don’t know me and we’re not together.”
Dahlia nodded. “I understand, but you don’t have to go until you’re ready. What you told me last night, about Sirius being innocent and everything is big stuff to deal with you, you know? I still cannot believe they made you quit your job because you were gay.”
“Er,” said Remus, remembering that the night before he had told Dahlia that one of his colleagues had outed his secret (he just failed to mention which secret it was). “It’s for the best.”
Dahlia nodded, understanding. Remus gave her a kiss on the cheek before heading back to the guestroom to gather his things. It took him a couple days to find a suitable flat. Luckily for him, he had magic to mend leaky ceilings and to ward any room against cockroaches and rats. However, the flat he finally chose wasn’t infested with anything too disgusting, but there were cracks in the walls and the windows were stained brown and foggy. Remus took it and the same day he moved in, did several cleaning and repairing charms. The flat became livable and was relatively cheap.
Visitors were far and in between over the next few months. Word had gotten around the magical community that Remus was a werewolf. He wasn’t recognizable by face, but when he applied for tutoring jobs for some of the wealthiest wizarding families, they found out who - or what - he was very quickly and never owled him back. There was nothing he could do except get a job in a Muggle restaurant or retail store. The prospect didn’t make Remus very happy.
He ended up using some of his money that he had saved from his salary at Hogwarts to pay for part of his flat each month. There was enough money coming in from part time tutoring jobs that he could feed himself and pay the water bills. He didn’t use electricity because he had a wand and could cast a powerful enough Lumos charm to keep his flat lit for hours at a time. Working a job that had a steadier paycheck might have been better financially, but Remus couldn’t imagine ever having to go back to working a Muggle job like he had before at the café. He knew what it was like to teach and he could never do anything else.
Remus wrote Harry exactly twice that year. He asked him about the Tri-Wizard Championship and that he hoped all was well at Hogwarts, that he heard Alastor Moody would be a good professor, despite the bit about him being mad. The second time Harry wrote back, he mentioned Sirius. Nothing specific, but simply that Sirius had written him. Remus crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the fireplace, cursing Sirius under his breath. He could contact Harry but not him? They had both left Hogwarts in June and it was now November and not a single word or letter. It was driving Remus mad.
The only other owl he received was from Dumbledore. The note was fairly short and direct.
Remus,
I daresay I have no excuse for keeping this as long as I have. You allowed me access to your old home to try and collect any evidence regarding Sirius Black. It was several months after the arrest and your house was mostly empty, but I stumbled upon this and I thought I should take it for safe keeping. One day you would want it back. I think I have kept it for far too long and I hope you forgive my misjudgment. Though, perhaps this is the right time to give it back to you.
I have been hearing rumors from faraway about the past. Wormtail has gone and I believe him to be searching for his old Master. If he hasn’t found him yet, he will soon. Keep your eyes and ears open. Alert me to anything you hear. I believe the time has come for the old crowd to become reacquainted. When that time is definite, I will send word if you are still willing to fight with us.
Humbly yours,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
From the envelope fell a familiar-looking ring. The metal felt heavy in Remus’ hand and he shoved it in the pocket of his pajama bottoms, not sure he was willing to relive the memory of the day he and Sirius both put on those matching rings. They weren’t together anymore and the memories were painful. Remus was someone else’s lover now.
Dahlia’s children stayed at their father’s flat two weekends a month. He picked them up from school every Tuesday and Thursday and helped them with their homework, took them out for dinner. Dahlia said the divorce was on hold, that they were on speaking terms, but nothing was finalized. The children sensed that things were less stressful between their parents, but Dahlia and Edmund weren’t sure where they stood.
When her children were away, Remus spent time at her house. They drank bottles of red wine and Dahlia let him read drafts of her latest stories. He critiqued them thoughtfully, told her when they were brilliant and when they were crap. When the wine had replaced the blood in their veins, they’d fuck and fall asleep with the sweat still drying on their skin. Neither of them wanted a relationship with the other, but they were comfortable with each other. It was soothing, freeing. It allowed them to take time away from thinking of their failed relationships.
XXXXXXX
Remus and Sirius’ life together was defined by a series of firsts. There first kiss happened in the boys’ dormitories at Hogwarts. It took months of buildup to get to that point. Sirius was reluctant and in denial. Remus was scared and confused. But it happened at the end of seventh year. It came with a lot of shaky nerves and foggy thoughts, embarrassing hard-ons that refused to go away.
The first time they had sex was a year after their first kiss. Remus brought the subject up and he was the first to surrender. Sirius tried to be careful, but it wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences. Still, the connection was worth something and Remus wanted to try again. And they did, many, many times. It took threatening to breakup for Sirius to finally surrender and that was a first for Remus as well, the first time he took Sirius. It was a brilliant first, for Sirius discovered he liked it; he liked being on the receiving end.
The first time either of them said the word “love” was the same day Sirius found out that his brother was a Death Eater. Regulus had been spotted with Lucius Malfoy. It had put Sirius in a daze. He was angry and felt betrayed. His parents were giant sods, he’d always said, but they weren’t fighting on Voldemort’s side, but Regulus was. Remus said it first, though he hadn’t planned on it. It slipped out in an explanation over why he didn’t want to move into Sirius’ house yet . . . it’s not as though I don’t want to move in because I don’t love you. . . . It was the first time they said it to anyone, the first time they meant it. They didn’t say it often, but said it enough that neither of them doubted the magic of the words.
The first time they lived with anyone outside of school was with one another. January 1980. The box full of Remus’ things was a belated Christmas gift to Sirius. It was the first time they called the house theirs, referring to everything as ours - our bed, our kitchen, our overgrown back garden. It was the first time they had argued with anyone about trivial matters like the proper cleaning spells to use on the pots and pans or whose turn it was to wash the bed linens.
The first time they had secrets from one another was in that last year. Remus didn’t tell Sirius about jumping from werewolf pack to werewolf pack, trying to find the one that had wolves working for Voldemort. He hid the cuts and bites he endured during the changes and lived with the guilt of keeping such a monumental secret.
The first time Sirius cried over Remus was because of that secret. He found out about it during the Christmas holiday and several months later, that next May, followed Remus when he went to join yet another werewolf group. Remus got hurt and Sirius had taken him home, tried to heal him. As Remus slept, Sirius cried. He cried for Remus’ injuries and he cried because he thought he was losing his lover, his best mate, the man who had given him one of a pair of matching rings. He was losing him to Dark magic, to werewolves who understood his pain. Sirius could never compete with that level of understanding, of knowing the moon.
The first time Remus cried over Sirius was the morning after Halloween. He read through a stack of owls on his kitchen table, confused that there were so many, wondering why Sirius hadn’t come back the night before. Remus’ tears didn’t come until he read the headline in the Daily Prophet. Somehow, those words in their permanent black ink turned the letters written by Dumbledore and his family into truth.
Their relationship was also defined by lasts. Somehow, those lasts were more memorable than the firsts. The last kiss came right before the last words. I’m going to check on James and Lily. Then, Sirius’ lips pressed against Remus’ and while his eyes whispered love, his mouth said nothing.
The last time they made love was in October. It was a perfect bonding, where first Sirius was on top, his chest curved around Remus’ back, then they switched positions and came at the same time, Remus inside Sirius, Sirius’ hand stroking his own cock.
The last time Sirius said “I love you” was in September. There was no reason, no occasion. They were laying on their backs behind their house, looking at the stars, trying to remember the things they had learned in Astronomy class. They could see Mars, see a couple of constellations, but mostly the knowledge was lost in the folds of their minds.
The last time Remus said “I love you” was after Harry’s first birthday. They went to James and Lily’s house, brought presents, and ate chocolate cake. Harry stood on his own, but couldn’t take more than a step or two before falling on his diaper-cushioned bum. He babbled and didn’t say anything that made sense to anyone. Harry fell asleep on Sirius’ lap and he held the boy, sitting on the settee. Lily went to clean up from dinner, refusing Remus’ help, and James went with her. Sitting next to Sirius, Remus kissed the corner of his mouth, whispering words to him. I know you want that . . . a baby . . . but I can’t give it to you. . . . You’re going to have to settle for just me for the rest of your life. . . . I wish I could give it to you, but I can’t. . . . I hope loving you will be enough for you . . . because I do love you, more than anything. . . .
Now, their lives hung together by a new last and a new first. It had been the first time they’d seen one another in twelve years. But it had also been the last.
XXXXXXX
A knocking from the other room woke Remus up in the middle of the night. When he looked at his clock, it was just about midnight, meaning it was officially Christmas. Happy Christmas indeed, thought Remus as he got up and sleepily shuffled to the front door. He pulled it open, his wand in his hand at the ready.
“Christ, Padfoot. Get in here.”
Padfoot walked through the door. When Remus closed it, Sirius became human again. His robes were dirty and tattered, his hair longer than ever. He was too thin and too pale. There was a tension between them, so thick Remus could practically touch it.
“Happy Christmas,” said Sirius dully. “This is where you live, then, is it?”
“How’d you know?”
“I asked Dumbledore. He didn’t seem to think you would mind my coming here.”
Remus nodded. “Would you like a drink or something to eat?”
Sirius laughed; it sounded hoarse and dry. “Drink is fine. I’m cold.”
The table Remus used to eat off of was just behind the sofa. He got a bottle of scotch that was half-full from the kitchen counter and set it on the table. Sirius had already seated himself, his fingers massaging his temples. Remus got two glasses and sat across from Sirius.
“I have some clean clothes, if you want them,” said Remus, pouring the scotch in Sirius’ glass. He was careful to look at the brown liquid instead of at Sirius. He filled his own glass and put it to his lips, drinking half of it in one gulp.
“Careful. You can’t hold your liquor very well.”
“That was then,” mumbled Remus. He dared look at Sirius. “Do you hate me?”
Sirius laughed. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because I spent twelve years thinking you were guilty. . . . Twelve years forcing myself to forget about you . . . to fall out of love with you.”
“Did you succeed?”
Remus swallowed the rest of his scotch. “Yes.”
Sirius laughed again and covered his eyes with his hands. “Oh good Christ,” he said.
“Do you hate me?”
Sirius shook his head and lowered his hands. “No. You forgave me countless times for being an idiot. I forgive you.”
“I didn’t want you to be guilty. How did you stay sane in that place?”
“You think I’m sane? I’m barely hanging on here, Remus. I’ve been living in caves, starving myself. I’ve changed into Padfoot a couple times and begged food off some people in Hogsmeade, but I think a couple of them are getting suspicious - y’know, because I’m a very well-trained dog.”
“You don’t have to stay near Hogwarts.”
“I’ve been traveling. It’s been rather difficult with Buckbeak, but I’ve managed. He’s at the old house, now. Our old house, that is. Completely abandoned and run down and a piece of shit.”
“I’ve no doubt.”
“I think about you, though. A lot.”
Remus was quiet; he had no idea what to say.
“At Azkaban, I tried to escape a couple times. There wasn’t any magic there to keep me in the cell. I came so close, but then I just . . . gave up - gave up trying to leave, I mean. I still had this hope. I don’t know where the bloody fuck it came from, but it was there. For a while I . . .” Sirius trailed off and took a long sip of his scotch. “I thought of you - us. I suppose the dementors are supposed to suck all those thoughts out of us - the happy ones, I mean. But they didn’t. I don’t know why, but I’d relive those moments on the street corner, when I realized that Peter - fucking Peter Pettigrew - had outsmarted me. But, you, Remus, my god, I thought of you and it kept me sane.”
Sirius laughed again, a bit hysterically, and Remus had to look away. Sirius’ skin stretched over his face, gaunt like a ghost. His eyes held more life in them now, but they weren’t the same eyes Remus remembered. They had the hollow look of mental torture.
“I have to confess something, though.”
Remus looked back at him. “Go on.”
“The last couple years I didn’t really think of anything. I just transformed until someone came to inspect the prisons, then I’d go back to human form. Seeing Peter in that newspaper gave me all the strength I never had before. I wanted to slaughter him - torture him. I figured after all those years I’d already lost you, but I was going to be damned if I was going to lose Harry, too. Even if he didn’t remember me.”
“Do you still love me?” Remus wasn’t sure where the question came from; it had just escaped from his mouth.
Sirius shrugged. “Remus, I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel about anything anymore. I’m lost. I’m nothing. What do I have? Look at me. I’m a walking skeleton - a shell, a ghost. I don’t feel like I’m anything. I can’t have anyone see me. Harry’s stuck at school trying not to die and I’m - I’m useless.” Sirius slammed his fist on the table. “Really, it’s my own fault.”
“Why would you say that? Don’t be an idiot, Sirius.”
“Say it again.”
“What?”
“My name.”
“Sirius.”
“Again.”
“Sirius.”
“You’ve no idea how amazing it sounds to hear you say that.”
“I loved you so much,” whispered Remus. “So much.”
“I don’t have anything to offer you anymore. All I have is what you see. The money - I can’t really touch it, but even if I could, you wouldn’t want it. I’m different now.”
“I know. It’s all right. Even if” - Remus cleared his throat - “we can’t go back, we can go forward. You’re still my best friend. Now, tell me why you think it’s your fault.”
“You were with the werewolves, remember? Trying to find information on Voldemort’s whereabouts.”
“Yes, I remember. Lovely time in my life.”
Sirius sniggered. “Right, well, the way you talked sometimes, about how you were an animal - like you were first a werewolf and then a man. Even though I always thought of you as a man and not a wolf. But you talked about how the lycanthropes you met understood you. I thought you liked them better than me - I should’ve known better - you’d never go rouge. Still, I thought you were the spy, Remus. My god, I was an idiot!”
“I don’t understand one thing,” said Remus. “Why would you change being Secret-Keeper and have Peter do it? I mean, I know that the reasoning was that no one would expect Peter, useless, blithering idiot that he was. But if they had tried to find him and he wasn’t the spy, he would’ve given up the information at the first Crucio. You would’ve let the Death Eaters kill you before you told them where James and Lily were.”
Sirius shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t understand, do you? I thought you were the spy, Remus! I would’ve have told any of the Death Eaters, but I would’ve told you. I would’ve told you anything. You were my weakness.”
Remus poured himself more scotch. “I’ve been sleeping with Dahlia for a year.”
“Who the fuck is Dah - oh. Oh. You’re not serious? Is she your girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“I don’t know,” said Remus, shaking his head. “I feel as though I need to confess it.”
“Don’t feel guilty. We’re not together.”
Remus reached into his pajama pocket and pulled out the ring. He’d kept it there since he got it in the letter. “Dumbledore gave this to me. I left it at your house. I went back once to pack up my things, but I left this behind. I thought of burning the whole house, but that seemed rather dramatic and you were always the one for melodrama. It didn’t feel like my right to burn your house.”
“Our house.”
“After you were arrested I tried to think of it as yours. I wanted to sever all ties with you. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing!” snapped Sirius. “I thought you were on Voldemort’s side! It’s why I couldn’t let myself be Secret-Keeper.”
“I tried to love other people,” confessed Remus. “But I couldn’t. I thought everyone was going to betray me. I couldn’t trust anyone. I ruined every chance I had at another relationship.”
“You’ve never had one since I left?” asked Sirius, the dismay evident in his voice.
“No, I had . . . someone. Once. A little over a year after you were arrested. It lasted a couple years, but it wasn’t nearly as perfect as we had been. Once that was finished, I just stopped trying to find anyone. I gave in to certain urges sometimes, when I couldn’t deal with another night by myself, but for the most part I’ve been alone. Last Christmas I was overwhelmed with the papers about your escape and seeing Harry every day - I could hardly stand it so I went to Dahlia’s. We’ve been friends for a decade or so by now. We’re not together, but she lets me just be myself.”
“I let you be yourself.”
“You’ve been on the run since June,” retorted Remus, “and this is the first time I’ve seen you. You haven’t written either.”
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“Harry said you wrote him.”
“He’s my godson.”
“And what am I?”
“I don’t know!” Sirius shot back the rest of the scotch in his glass. “That’s why I didn’t write! I didn’t know who you were or who you had. I didn’t want to write and ruin your life. I mean - what if you had a wife or a girlfriend and she didn’t know you lived with another man? Had sex with a man?”
“I would never lie about my sexual preferences.”
“So now you’ve slept with women, which do you prefer?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Who was that relationship with? A man?”
Remus nodded. “Yes. He was a professor of mine-”
Sirius interrupted with a howl of laughter. “Your professor? That’s right dirty, Remus.”
“I don’t think you’re one to judge.”
“Probably not. God, a professor, eh? Brilliant.” Sirius looked at Remus in a way that made him squirm in his seat.
“I missed you,” said Remus. “Even when I had convinced myself I didn’t miss you anymore, I missed you. This is really strange for me, to have you back.”
“It’s strange to be back.”
“I’ve some clean clothes. There’s towels in the bathroom if you want to shower. I’ve an extra toothbrush, too.”
“Are you suggesting I smell?”
“I’m suggesting that you knocked on my door after midnight and you’re probably tired.”
“Oh. Well, yes, a shower would be brilliant. I can sleep on the settee-”
“You can sleep with me,” said Remus softly. “Unless you want to sleep in here. The couch sags. It’s old. My bed is bigger.”
Sirius nodded. “All right.”
“I’ll set some clothes out for you. They might be too short, but they’ll also be too big. You’re too skinny. I’ll buy some more food tomorrow so you can eat something other than scraps only worthy for dogs.”
“I appreciate it.”
Remus nodded and stood up. As he walked towards the door to the bedroom, Sirius reached out and grabbed hold of his arm.
“Don’t blame yourself. I forgive you. I’d forgive you a thousand times if it only meant we could go back to the way things used to be - but I’m different and you’re a new man, now. I don’t know you anymore.”
“You can get to know me,” said Remus. “Ask me anything.”
Sirius searched Remus’ eyes. Remus swallowed, unsure what Sirius was going to ask.
“When you were with other men . . .”
“What?”
“Did you let them . . .”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to ask, but I always topped, if that’s what you’re hinting at. No other man ever took me. That was an act I thought belonged to you.”
“Could you ever love me again?”
After a long pause, Remus said, “I don’t know.” He looked at Sirius, trying to find meaning in his gaze. “I wish I could tell you that I could, that we could go back to how we were once, but we need stability. We can’t go six months without seeing one another.”
Sirius nodded. “I know.” He got up and went to the bathroom.
Remus heard the water run and went to his room. He laid under the blankets in his bed, turning on his side. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he knew it was impossible. Sirius came in after nearly thirty minutes in the shower. He smelled like soap as he got next to Remus in the bed. The distance between them was only a matter of inches, but it felt like miles.
“Remus?”
Remus turned over and looked at Sirius. Never before had the man looked so lost, so confused, so dejected. His eyes were still haunted by his years in prison, the fear and sadness still etched in the tight pull of his skin over his cheekbones.
“Can you just . . .”
“What is it, Pads?”
Sirius closed his eyes at the sound of his old nickname. Pads, he mouthed and smiled. “Can you hold me? Just until I fall asleep? I’ve been sleeping in caves and forests and places. I hardly remember what a bed feels like.”
Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius, waiting to feel that pull of love, of attraction, that he had grown so accustomed to when they had been partners so many years before. But the feelings didn’t come and that left Remus confused and hurt. Part of him really wanted to love Sirius again. The best times of his life had been with Sirius, their limbs tangled together, their bodies pressed so tightly together there was no separation - no clearly defined Remus or Sirius, just one body with two souls.
When they woke up hours later, they ate breakfast together. Sirius left while Remus took a shower. He left a note apologizing and Remus didn’t see him for another sixth months, this time at the end of June, when he came back to the flat, saying he had orders from Dumbledore.
“I’m supposed to lie low at Lupin’s,” Sirius told Remus. “Alert the old crowd. So here I am. Lying low and alerting you. Can I stay?”
XXXXXXX
To Be Continued . . .
XXXXXXX
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