(no subject)
Title: If Ever I Would Leave You
Author: Me, krabapple, of course.
Fandom/Pairing: HP fandom, Remus/Sirius
Rating: Um, PG-13 because of the slash, I suppose. Otherwise nothing smutty at all. Sorry. :)
Summary: Four times when Sirius left Remus.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Camelot, aside from my name (it's a long story). I certainly don't own anything to do with Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling's work.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Warnings: Angst, certainly. This turned out much sadder than I had thought. I blame Rowling for the path she took R/S down, rather than myself. Convenient, yes? :) Slash, as in a male/male relationship, but if you're here, that's not much of a warning now, is it?
Cross posted to my own journal, remusxsirius, and shacking_up.
If Ever I Would Leave You
And could I leave you
running merrily through the snow?
Or on a wintry evening
when you catch the fire's glow?
February, 1975
"Sirius, don't let go." Remus' voice was tight with anxiety.
"I'm not, you big nancy," Sirius said, his voice floating from in front of Remus. Sure enough, his gloved hands were still holding tight to Remus' mittened ones. Remus could feel the heat from them seeping into his palms even through the leather and wool between them. "By the way, this will be easier for you if you open your eyes. Ninny."
Honestly, Remus wanted to keep his eyes screwed as tightly shut as was humanly possible because that gave him some kind of plausible deniability about the whole situation. Still, deep down, he knew that Sirius was right, so he opened the left one first, then the right.
Sirius was in front of him, facing him, cheeks and nose already blushed with red from the cold. His hair was parted in the middle and long enough for the ends to brush back and forth against the red and gold Gryffindor scarf knotted around his throat. He was wearing a black pea-coat and Muggle jeans, and his face was the only visible part of him, grey eyes sparkling with cold and amusement.
Remus figured that there were worse sights in the world to open his eyes to than a flushed and laughing Sirius Black. Even if he was well and truly terrified.
"You're doing fine, Moony. Just hold onto my hands and keep gliding," Sirius said, all while having the skill and audacity to skate backwards across the Hogwarts' lake.
Remus almost closed his eyes again so he could concentrate on Sirius' instructions, but stopped himself at the last minute. He looked down at his feet in Peter's ice skates, and immediately wished he hadn't. That view showed him exactly what he was up against: thin silver blades against thick, snowy ice. Convinced the ice was going to win eventually, probably with a fall that would cause any number of broken bones and disgusting doses of Skele-Gro, Remus struggled against calculating the odds. Unfortunately, he was quite good at Arithmancy, and the ratio kept coming up 241:1 that he would walk away from this unscathed. He looked quickly back up at Sirius and noted that his friend's lips quirked up.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Remus said, letting Sirius continue to pull him across the lake.
"You always say that," Sirius answered, unconcerned.
"This time I mean it."
"You always say that, too."
"Well. It's always true."
"If you say so."
"I do."
"Fine then," Sirius replied, not at all seriously.
"I hate you," Remus growled in answer.
"Fine then," Sirius said again.
Remus huffed, but didn't say anything else. The snick, snick, snick of their blades against the ice was the only audible sound for what seemed like miles. Remus knew he was being irritable and unreasonable, but that was what fear did to him, at least in Sirius' presence. Besides, it seemed high time to him that it was his turn to be the unreasonable one, anyway, Merlin knew he'd put up with Sirius' moods every day of his life the last five years. And what did he get in return? He got dragged out into the freezing cold in order to be pushed around on some unbelievably slick and dangerous surface and laughed at all because he had happened to mention, in passing, the other day that he had never gone ice skating before, that's what he got. All in Peter's skates, no less, which were almost a size too small and cramped his toes; Remus had wide feet. It wasn't a crime.
"Moony, you might want to try actually moving your feet now, mate. My arms are getting tired."
The nerve of him. Might want to move his feet. He'd love to if the fear and dread hadn't cut off feeling below his waist. "What a stunning bit of tutelage, Padfoot. I had never thought of that. Thank you."
"Oh, now you're just cranky. Do your feet hurt from the skates? I know they're too small, especially with how wide your feet are, but it was better than them being too big," Sirius answered.
"I. What? My feet are just fine." Remus paused. "How did you know?"
"You always get cranky when you're in pain." Sirius shrugged and continued to skate, all with grace, ease, and poise. Remus had a rather nasty thought regarding enchanted skates, but didn't voice it for fear that Sirius might let go after all.
"I do not." That came out more petulant than he had intended.
Sirius raised one black eyebrow and said, "If you say so." Remus had another rather nasty thought about whether Sirius had picked up that eyebrow thing from Snape, but he didn't voice that one either, for fear that Sirius would then let go and pummel him into goo right there in the middle of the lake.
Sirius abruptly stopped, and Remus, not ready for the change in momentum, continued right on until he bumped bodily into Sirius, hard enough to send them sliding backwards, though Sirius managed to keep them upright. They were still joined at the hands, which Sirius positioned in between them.
"I think it's time for a change of plan," Sirius said.
"Good. Can we go back now? I'm freezing."
"No, not exactly. Not yet." Sirius looked down a little into Remus' face, his expression surprisingly sober. Remus started to get seriously worried.
"What then?"
"We're never going to get anywhere if we don't let go."
Remus definitely didn't like where this was heading. "So?"
"So . . . here's what's going to happen next. I'm going to let go of your hands. I'm going to skate a little farther away. Like to over there." Sirius pointed to a spot about 20 yards away, briefly removing one hand from Remus', though it was soon back again. "I'm going to stand there, and you are actually going to move your feet and skate over to me."
"No," Remus immediately rejected.
"Yes. It's not hard, I promise. Just move your feet a little. You can take baby steps if you want. But you have to do it by yourself." Sirius removed his hands from Remus' own and cupped his face instead. The change happened so quickly that Remus was put off balance so much he drifted backwards a little.
Sirius was so close the heat from his breath was warming Remus' nose, his lips, the parts of his cheeks that weren't warm already from Sirius' gloved hands. "I know you can do it, Remus," he whispered while Remus' eyes searched his quickly, but before Remus could reply, he turned around and left, skated away, just like that. All Remus could see of him was his wool covered back as he glided further and further away. For one heart stopping moment Remus caught his breath, sure that Sirius would keep skating and skating until Remus never saw nor heard from him again.
Sirius didn't disappear, of course. At almost exactly twenty yards away he stopped and turned around, a swirl of coat and scarf, arms out as he executed almost a perfect spin. Remus' breath came back to his chest and he couldn't help but smile. Showoff.
Sirius made a wide gesture with his arms, a "come on" motion. "Don't make me wait all day, Moony," he said. "We have work on the map to do."
"And potions homework," Remus called back, not moving a muscle.
Sirius dismissed the homework with another wave of his hand. "Let's go. Time is galleons, or something."
Remus would have said something sarcastic back, but he suddenly found himself fervently praying to Merlin and whatever gods were out there that he just stay upright. He did manage to maintain a vertical position, for quite a while, in fact. Time and distance stretched out between him and Sirius, and Remus began to wonder just how long Sirius would wait--and if he could out wait him long enough for Sirius to get bored, come back and fetch him, and take them both inside. It seemed like a viable option.
Or at least it did, until Sirius eventually called out, "I can wait for you forever, Remus."
Remus sighed. Sirius might be impulsive and unevenly tempered, but he was also stubborn. Not even James could budge Sirius when he was set on something. At this rate, they'd freeze to death and Hagrid would find their stiff carcasses on Monday when they didn't show up for class. They'd be blue and lucky not to have lost limbs and other appendages from frostbite. Remus briefly had a vision of what his funeral might be like.
He looked across the ice to see Sirius still standing in his spot, regarding him patiently, his head tilted at an angle that reminded Remus strongly of the way Padfoot would look at the wolf before asking permission to show him something or lead him somewhere. Padfoot never led him astray, Remus realized suddenly, and neither would Sirius.
Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Remus pushed off a little with his right foot, and prayed again that he wouldn't fall on his ass and make a huge fool of himself. Slowly and very wobbly, he moved, arms out at the sides and flailing madly in an attempt to keep him upright. He quickly gained momentum, maybe a little too much momentum, he realized a fraction of a second too late to do anything about it. So instead of fighting it, Remus went with the speed and bit his lip nearly to bleeding.
His head had automatically gone down in order to monitor the motion of his feet, so Remus was abruptly surprised when Sirius' skates suddenly rushed into view. He looked up just in time to see pride and then fear cross Sirius' face as he crashed nearly headlong into him, sending them both sprawling and fighting to stay upright. Sirius' arms immediately went around Remus in an effort to halt Remus and to keep them from falling, his blades scuttling the ice as his feet made a frantic attempt to find balance. They went around a few times in a spiraling dance on the ice before gravity finally won the battle and brought them both down in a heap, arms still wrapped around one another.
They fell hard but not to bruising, no doubt due to Sirius' valiant attempt to keep them standing. Remus' breath huffed out of him in a rush, but not harshly, and when his gaze went to see if Sirius was okay, he found Sirius laughing beneath him.
"Merlin's balls, Moony, watch where you're going the next time," Sirius managed to get out around his fit of laughter.
"Sirius, there isn't going to be a next time," Remus answered, smiling.
"Oh, no?" Sirius questioned, his laughter ebbing.
"No," Remus said firmly. "Never, never, never."
Sirius stopped laughing, though his eyes continued to sparkle. "If you say so," he said. "But you did it."
Remus looked into those sparkling eyes and considered. "I did, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did," Sirius answered, reaching up and pulling Remus' knit hat further down on his head, using the momentum to bring Remus' mouth to his own. Both of them were cold near to freezing, and the closed lips made the kiss almost chaste, but there was undeniable warmth to the gesture.
Sirius let go of Remus' head and pushed him off a little, saying, "C'mon. Let's go back to the tower. I'll ply you with hot cocoa as your reward." He stood up and offered his hand to Remus.
Remus took the proffered hand, shivering a little as he did so, though not from the cold. "With the little marshmallows?"
Sirius rolled his eyes, but grinned. "If you must," he said, starting off, making sure Remus was keeping up next to him, which he accomplished mostly by pulling the other boy with him. Remus didn't mind.
They skated back to the edge of the lake hand in hand.
****
But if I'd ever leave you,
It couldn't be in autumn.
How I'd leave in autumn I never will know.
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air.
I know you in autumn
And I must be there.
October, 1981
Remus sat on the bed while Sirius packed. It was an old habit, a throwback to their Hogwarts days when they would watch each other pack for summers and school holidays. These days, the packing on both their parts was much more frequent then it had been then. Remus picked a nit off the duvet and watched Sirius pick out socks.
"I won't be gone long."
"I know."
"Just until . . . it's over."
"Right."
"Remus . . ." Sirius started.
Remus held up a hand, forestalling whatever Sirius had been about to say. "I know," he said softly. He did. He did know. He knew that Sirius was off to finish the charm that was meant to keep James and Lily and Harry safe. He knew that this was best for everyone. He knew that Sirius left often these days, on one mission or another, and that he always came back. He knew Sirius couldn't tell him where he was going this time, couldn't tell him because the charm only worked when the only people who knew were the parties involved. He knew that Sirius couldn't tell him. He knew that didn't matter; that even if he could tell him, Sirius wouldn't. He knew that Sirius never told him where he was going anymore. He knew what that meant, too, though they never acknowledged it.
Sirius let go of whatever he was going to say, and kept packing. He carefully tucked the socks away, then went to the closet to select shirts and trousers, a couple of robes. At first, it had surprised Remus that Sirius was such a meticulous packer. For such a chaotic personality, Sirius was atypically orderly when it came to packing. He had a system. Remus watched him put the clothing into his bag, knowing he would go into the bathroom to collect his toiletries. Those came next.
Sure enough, Sirius went into the adjoining bathroom and began clattering around, looking, no doubt, for his toothbrush, toothpaste, razor. Remus sat on the bed, carefully smoothing out the duvet, one royal blue square at a time, while Sirius made a general racket in the bathroom. Sirius emerged a few minutes later, juggling toiletries, including what was Remus' aftershave. A year ago, Remus would have joked that Sirius was nicking his things. Now he gave the duvet one last pat and picked at a stain on the knee of his jeans.
Sirius put the items in the compartment allotted them and said, "I'll owl you when I get there."
Remus nodded. "Okay."
There must have been something in his voice that time, because Sirius looked up from what he was doing.
"Remus?"
Remus shook his head; he'd just had his hair cut, and he was sorry there was no fringe to come down and obscure his eyes. "What? It's fine.” I'm fine, you're fine, we're fine. He paused. "I'm just . . . maybe I'm missing James, Lily and Harry already." And you.
Sirius nodded, and zipped up the bag. "It's only for a little while. Temporary."
"Yeah. I know."
Sirius shouldered the bag and came around to the side of the bed, so he could lean in. "I'll owl you when I get there," he repeated, and gave Remus a quick-but-still-decent kiss on the lips.
"Okay," Remus said again, when Sirius had broken the kiss. "Be careful."
"I will." Sirius was already halfway to the door.
"I love you," Remus said. He watched Sirius nod in answer as he crossed the doorway. A few moments later, he heard the front door close.
"I love you," he said again to the empty flat. He got no answer at all this time.
****
If ever I would leave you
It wouldn't be in summer.
Seeing you in summer I never would go.
Your hair streaked with sun-light,
Your lips red as flame,
Your face with a lustre
that puts gold to shame!
June, 1995
Remus heard clattering noises in the kitchen and pulled on his bathrobe quickly, padding down the stairs in his bare feet. He picked his wand up off the desk in the corner of the living room and crept up to the kitchen door, peeking around the frame.
Sirius Black was standing in the middle of the kitchen, making tea.
I need to work on my wards, Remus thought. He stepped fully into the doorway, and Sirius turned away from the cabinet with a mug in each hand. They looked each other over, Sirius' eyes meeting Remus' only briefly before Remus had to look away.
"You need better wards," Sirius said, as if reading Remus' mind.
"Apparently," Remus answered, still not moving from the doorway.
"You always did unconsciously key them to people you loved," Sirius reminded him, his voice barely breaking on the last word. "Professor McGowan used to say that was the fatal flaw in your design plan."
Sirius was right; Remus had always had the habit of subconsciously keying wards to let in his loved ones when he was setting them up. He never meant to--it just always happened. And he hadn't had to worry about a loved one coming over unannounced, or otherwise, in a very long time.
He tried not to think about what it meant that he had automatically coded Sirius as loved one. It had been over a year since he changed the wards on this house. He wondered briefly who else the wards might let in without him knowing about it. Possibly no one.
Sirius dropped Darjeeling leaves into both mugs, then filled them with hot water. He sat one on the table and held the other in his hand, letting it steep as he cradled it.
"Dumbledore sent me," Sirius said.
Remus gave up and moved to sit in the chair opposite the mug Sirius had put on the table. "I know. He owled me." He stirred the tea a bit with his finger and then took a long, hot swallow. He could feel the liquid burn its way down his chest and into his stomach. He could feel Sirius looking at him, but he didn't look up into that regard.
"I can," Sirius started after a moment. "I can . . . do you want me to leave?"
This time Remus did look up. He shook his head. "No. No . . . no." Please don't leave, he thought. Please don't leave me, not ever again.
"Are you sure?" Sirius asked.
That, that, Remus was not prepared for. A shy, uncertain Sirius. Apprehensive. Anger flared as hot in his chest as the tea had just done. In that moment, he wished Peter Pettigrew dead, and wished he could do it himself.
Sirius had seen the anger written on his face, and had stepped back, probably thinking it was for him. "Yes," he said firmly. Sirius still looked doubtful, so he said it again. "Yes."
Sirius seemed to decide something, and came around the table to sit, across from Remus. Remus looked at his tea and then finished it in one long, hot swallow.
"Harry . . . do you know?" Sirius asked.
Remus nodded. "Dumbledore told me, but I'd like to hear it from you."
Sirius took a drink of his tea. "Later," he said.
"Later," Remus agreed.
There was quiet for a moment in the kitchen, before Sirius abruptly reached across and picked up Remus' empty mug. He looked into the mug carefully, turning it this way and that. Remus didn't say anything, just watched him, saw the terrible gauntness to his face, the thin wrist bone, the yellowed skin. Sirius put the mug back on the table but kept his hand on it, and looked at Remus gravely.
"Remus, I'm afraid that there's a visage of the Grim in the bottom of this mug," he said gravely. "Poor dear. Seems like there's going to be a big, black dog in your future."
Remus knew Sirius was joking, but he still thought I hope, I hope so, swallowing against a suddenly thick throat. On impulse, he reached across the table and plucked Sirius' hand from the tea mug and held it in his own. He leaned over and kissed the hand, the fingers, where the tattoos were, the numbers of Azkaban that were seared onto Sirius' knuckles. He could see Sirius' lashes flutter down to his cheeks in the near distance.
He brought Sirius' hand to his bent forehead and asked, "What else is in my future?"
Sirius sighed, a shudder. "That's up to you, Remus," he said.
Remus rubbed Sirius' knuckles against his cheekbone. "Maybe we'll start with a bath and another cup of tea?"
"I'll start the bath if you make the tea," Sirius offered. Remus nodded against Sirius' hand.
Eventually Sirius gently disengaged, and Remus watched him leave to go start the bath.
****
If ever I would leave you,
How could it be in spring-time?
Knowing how in spring I'm bewitched by you so?
April, 1997
Another Order meeting. Another shouting match. This time it was Snape and Harry, Snape and Mundungus, Snape and whomever-the-flavor-of-the-day was. Remus had tuned it out quite a while ago. The Weasleys were present, which meant that at least there had been a decent supper, thanks to Molly. Remus hated all the shouting on an empty stomach. Well, Remus hated all the shouting under any circumstances, but being hungry didn't help matters.
He took a careful survey around the room. Tonks and Arthur were speaking in hushed tones with Kingsley; Hermione was whispering with Molly. Ron was watching Harry carefully; Harry was the one currently arguing with Snape.
Harry finally threw his ace onto the table. "Maybe so, but I'm the one who is going to have to kill the bloody bastard!"
Game. Set. Match, Remus thought. That shut Snape up; that comment always cut any of them off at the knees. It was true, and they all knew it, and none of them liked it, so they didn't know what to say. Not even Snape, though Remus doubted that would last forever. One day the Potions Master would have a reply, even if it was only, "So go ahead and get it over with, then, and quit dancing around about it."
Remus saw Ron lower his eyes as Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder. Remus tuned out again and didn't hear what he said, though he was sure it was something appropriate, if not exactly comforting.
Remus just wished they'd all go back home, or to Hogwarts, and leave him in peace. The tension was ratcheting up these days; Voldemort, though content to have his henchmen do the dirty work, still had dirty work done all the same. Plus, the countdown to the annual end-of-the-school-year confrontation had everyone even more on edge than usual. Harry especially looked worn, frayed around the edges in a way that no sixteen year old boy should have to look. Every time he looked at Harry Remus' heart would ache; he was almost glad that James and Lily hadn't lived to see Harry look like this. He was almost glad Sirius hadn't lived to see Harry like this, either.
Almost.
Whatever Dumbledore had said, it seemed to have broken up the meeting. People were standing, and Snape had already flooed back to Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione were speaking to Harry, who was supported between them. Harry leaned in as Molly gave him a good-bye kiss on the cheek. Harry gave Remus a small wave in departure, Hermione smiled at him, and Ron nodded his head before they each stepped into the fire. Remus thought that if they could have managed it, all three would have gone at once. They didn't lose sight of each other at all these days, and Remus couldn't blame them, knowing as he did that losing sight of each other was what had brought him and Sirius, James and Lily, and Peter, brought them all, to this place.
All too soon, but not soon enough, the kitchen was empty. Molly had looked like she was going to say something to him as she was leaving, but she didn't, and for that Remus was grateful. He doused the fire in the kitchen and went upstairs, putting out candles and torches as he went.
He finally reached his bedroom, a quick spell illuminating the room just enough so he could change for bed without having to do so in the dark. He did so and then slipped underneath the cool, crisp sheets; it may have been spring, but there was still a definite chill to the air at night.
Then he reached for the book on the nightstand. This had been his nightly ritual since June; he was a bit ashamed of it, but he didn't know how to do without it. He wasn't even sure he wanted to.
The book itself was immaterial. He changed books every so often; hardly anyone came into this room, but sometimes people did, on one errand or another, and Remus didn't want to raise suspicions, didn't want people asking why he'd been reading the same book for months at a time.
It wasn't the book, but what was inside it. Inside, safely ensconced between two pages, was a picture. It was a wizarding picture, of course. Lily had taken it the spring after they had graduated from Hogwarts. They had been taking a tour of Muggle London, Lily and Remus showing off the sights to a somewhat awed James and Sirius.
This picture was of Sirius and Remus. They were standing in the courtyard of some attraction or another; Remus couldn't remember now exactly where they were. The courtyard was full of flowers; the plants and trees swayed in the spring breeze, and birds darted in and out of the picture, running their own errands.
He and Sirius were standing in the courtyard, arms slung around each other's shoulders, smiling. The picture Sirius would periodically wave madly to Lily and the picture Remus would shake his head and smile even wider. Eventually, the picture Sirius would say something that caught picture Remus' attention, and when Remus turned toward him in the picture to answer, Sirius would kiss Remus, rather thoroughly for being in public, Remus sometimes thought to himself when looking at the picture now. The kiss would break and picture Sirius would whisper something in picture Remus' ear. Remus didn't remember what it was, didn't remember what Sirius had said to get his attention then in the first place, but as long as whatever it was brought that look of joy onto his younger self's face, he didn't care.
Eventually the picture would wind down, as it always did, as many things in those days did, with Sirius getting distracted. Something out of the frame would catch his attention, and he would squeeze Remus' hand and then step forward until he had left the frame of the picture, leaving picture Remus to smile and shake his head after him affectionately.
It was always the same. He always left the picture, leaving Remus behind.
Now, at night, in the near dark, Remus let himself watch the picture three times. The third time, after Sirius stepped out of the frame again, Remus turned the picture over, and shut it back inside the book. He put the book back on the nightstand and said "Nox," to turn the lights all the way out. Remus settled down into bed and tucked the sheets around him, and tried, as he did every night, to accept that Sirius had gone away and left him behind, in reality, and not just in some old picture.
****
Oh, no! not in spring-time!
Summer, winter or fall!
No, never could I leave you at all!
Author: Me, krabapple, of course.
Fandom/Pairing: HP fandom, Remus/Sirius
Rating: Um, PG-13 because of the slash, I suppose. Otherwise nothing smutty at all. Sorry. :)
Summary: Four times when Sirius left Remus.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Camelot, aside from my name (it's a long story). I certainly don't own anything to do with Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling's work.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Warnings: Angst, certainly. This turned out much sadder than I had thought. I blame Rowling for the path she took R/S down, rather than myself. Convenient, yes? :) Slash, as in a male/male relationship, but if you're here, that's not much of a warning now, is it?
Cross posted to my own journal, remusxsirius, and shacking_up.
If Ever I Would Leave You
And could I leave you
running merrily through the snow?
Or on a wintry evening
when you catch the fire's glow?
February, 1975
"Sirius, don't let go." Remus' voice was tight with anxiety.
"I'm not, you big nancy," Sirius said, his voice floating from in front of Remus. Sure enough, his gloved hands were still holding tight to Remus' mittened ones. Remus could feel the heat from them seeping into his palms even through the leather and wool between them. "By the way, this will be easier for you if you open your eyes. Ninny."
Honestly, Remus wanted to keep his eyes screwed as tightly shut as was humanly possible because that gave him some kind of plausible deniability about the whole situation. Still, deep down, he knew that Sirius was right, so he opened the left one first, then the right.
Sirius was in front of him, facing him, cheeks and nose already blushed with red from the cold. His hair was parted in the middle and long enough for the ends to brush back and forth against the red and gold Gryffindor scarf knotted around his throat. He was wearing a black pea-coat and Muggle jeans, and his face was the only visible part of him, grey eyes sparkling with cold and amusement.
Remus figured that there were worse sights in the world to open his eyes to than a flushed and laughing Sirius Black. Even if he was well and truly terrified.
"You're doing fine, Moony. Just hold onto my hands and keep gliding," Sirius said, all while having the skill and audacity to skate backwards across the Hogwarts' lake.
Remus almost closed his eyes again so he could concentrate on Sirius' instructions, but stopped himself at the last minute. He looked down at his feet in Peter's ice skates, and immediately wished he hadn't. That view showed him exactly what he was up against: thin silver blades against thick, snowy ice. Convinced the ice was going to win eventually, probably with a fall that would cause any number of broken bones and disgusting doses of Skele-Gro, Remus struggled against calculating the odds. Unfortunately, he was quite good at Arithmancy, and the ratio kept coming up 241:1 that he would walk away from this unscathed. He looked quickly back up at Sirius and noted that his friend's lips quirked up.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Remus said, letting Sirius continue to pull him across the lake.
"You always say that," Sirius answered, unconcerned.
"This time I mean it."
"You always say that, too."
"Well. It's always true."
"If you say so."
"I do."
"Fine then," Sirius replied, not at all seriously.
"I hate you," Remus growled in answer.
"Fine then," Sirius said again.
Remus huffed, but didn't say anything else. The snick, snick, snick of their blades against the ice was the only audible sound for what seemed like miles. Remus knew he was being irritable and unreasonable, but that was what fear did to him, at least in Sirius' presence. Besides, it seemed high time to him that it was his turn to be the unreasonable one, anyway, Merlin knew he'd put up with Sirius' moods every day of his life the last five years. And what did he get in return? He got dragged out into the freezing cold in order to be pushed around on some unbelievably slick and dangerous surface and laughed at all because he had happened to mention, in passing, the other day that he had never gone ice skating before, that's what he got. All in Peter's skates, no less, which were almost a size too small and cramped his toes; Remus had wide feet. It wasn't a crime.
"Moony, you might want to try actually moving your feet now, mate. My arms are getting tired."
The nerve of him. Might want to move his feet. He'd love to if the fear and dread hadn't cut off feeling below his waist. "What a stunning bit of tutelage, Padfoot. I had never thought of that. Thank you."
"Oh, now you're just cranky. Do your feet hurt from the skates? I know they're too small, especially with how wide your feet are, but it was better than them being too big," Sirius answered.
"I. What? My feet are just fine." Remus paused. "How did you know?"
"You always get cranky when you're in pain." Sirius shrugged and continued to skate, all with grace, ease, and poise. Remus had a rather nasty thought regarding enchanted skates, but didn't voice it for fear that Sirius might let go after all.
"I do not." That came out more petulant than he had intended.
Sirius raised one black eyebrow and said, "If you say so." Remus had another rather nasty thought about whether Sirius had picked up that eyebrow thing from Snape, but he didn't voice that one either, for fear that Sirius would then let go and pummel him into goo right there in the middle of the lake.
Sirius abruptly stopped, and Remus, not ready for the change in momentum, continued right on until he bumped bodily into Sirius, hard enough to send them sliding backwards, though Sirius managed to keep them upright. They were still joined at the hands, which Sirius positioned in between them.
"I think it's time for a change of plan," Sirius said.
"Good. Can we go back now? I'm freezing."
"No, not exactly. Not yet." Sirius looked down a little into Remus' face, his expression surprisingly sober. Remus started to get seriously worried.
"What then?"
"We're never going to get anywhere if we don't let go."
Remus definitely didn't like where this was heading. "So?"
"So . . . here's what's going to happen next. I'm going to let go of your hands. I'm going to skate a little farther away. Like to over there." Sirius pointed to a spot about 20 yards away, briefly removing one hand from Remus', though it was soon back again. "I'm going to stand there, and you are actually going to move your feet and skate over to me."
"No," Remus immediately rejected.
"Yes. It's not hard, I promise. Just move your feet a little. You can take baby steps if you want. But you have to do it by yourself." Sirius removed his hands from Remus' own and cupped his face instead. The change happened so quickly that Remus was put off balance so much he drifted backwards a little.
Sirius was so close the heat from his breath was warming Remus' nose, his lips, the parts of his cheeks that weren't warm already from Sirius' gloved hands. "I know you can do it, Remus," he whispered while Remus' eyes searched his quickly, but before Remus could reply, he turned around and left, skated away, just like that. All Remus could see of him was his wool covered back as he glided further and further away. For one heart stopping moment Remus caught his breath, sure that Sirius would keep skating and skating until Remus never saw nor heard from him again.
Sirius didn't disappear, of course. At almost exactly twenty yards away he stopped and turned around, a swirl of coat and scarf, arms out as he executed almost a perfect spin. Remus' breath came back to his chest and he couldn't help but smile. Showoff.
Sirius made a wide gesture with his arms, a "come on" motion. "Don't make me wait all day, Moony," he said. "We have work on the map to do."
"And potions homework," Remus called back, not moving a muscle.
Sirius dismissed the homework with another wave of his hand. "Let's go. Time is galleons, or something."
Remus would have said something sarcastic back, but he suddenly found himself fervently praying to Merlin and whatever gods were out there that he just stay upright. He did manage to maintain a vertical position, for quite a while, in fact. Time and distance stretched out between him and Sirius, and Remus began to wonder just how long Sirius would wait--and if he could out wait him long enough for Sirius to get bored, come back and fetch him, and take them both inside. It seemed like a viable option.
Or at least it did, until Sirius eventually called out, "I can wait for you forever, Remus."
Remus sighed. Sirius might be impulsive and unevenly tempered, but he was also stubborn. Not even James could budge Sirius when he was set on something. At this rate, they'd freeze to death and Hagrid would find their stiff carcasses on Monday when they didn't show up for class. They'd be blue and lucky not to have lost limbs and other appendages from frostbite. Remus briefly had a vision of what his funeral might be like.
He looked across the ice to see Sirius still standing in his spot, regarding him patiently, his head tilted at an angle that reminded Remus strongly of the way Padfoot would look at the wolf before asking permission to show him something or lead him somewhere. Padfoot never led him astray, Remus realized suddenly, and neither would Sirius.
Squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Remus pushed off a little with his right foot, and prayed again that he wouldn't fall on his ass and make a huge fool of himself. Slowly and very wobbly, he moved, arms out at the sides and flailing madly in an attempt to keep him upright. He quickly gained momentum, maybe a little too much momentum, he realized a fraction of a second too late to do anything about it. So instead of fighting it, Remus went with the speed and bit his lip nearly to bleeding.
His head had automatically gone down in order to monitor the motion of his feet, so Remus was abruptly surprised when Sirius' skates suddenly rushed into view. He looked up just in time to see pride and then fear cross Sirius' face as he crashed nearly headlong into him, sending them both sprawling and fighting to stay upright. Sirius' arms immediately went around Remus in an effort to halt Remus and to keep them from falling, his blades scuttling the ice as his feet made a frantic attempt to find balance. They went around a few times in a spiraling dance on the ice before gravity finally won the battle and brought them both down in a heap, arms still wrapped around one another.
They fell hard but not to bruising, no doubt due to Sirius' valiant attempt to keep them standing. Remus' breath huffed out of him in a rush, but not harshly, and when his gaze went to see if Sirius was okay, he found Sirius laughing beneath him.
"Merlin's balls, Moony, watch where you're going the next time," Sirius managed to get out around his fit of laughter.
"Sirius, there isn't going to be a next time," Remus answered, smiling.
"Oh, no?" Sirius questioned, his laughter ebbing.
"No," Remus said firmly. "Never, never, never."
Sirius stopped laughing, though his eyes continued to sparkle. "If you say so," he said. "But you did it."
Remus looked into those sparkling eyes and considered. "I did, didn't I?"
"Yeah, you did," Sirius answered, reaching up and pulling Remus' knit hat further down on his head, using the momentum to bring Remus' mouth to his own. Both of them were cold near to freezing, and the closed lips made the kiss almost chaste, but there was undeniable warmth to the gesture.
Sirius let go of Remus' head and pushed him off a little, saying, "C'mon. Let's go back to the tower. I'll ply you with hot cocoa as your reward." He stood up and offered his hand to Remus.
Remus took the proffered hand, shivering a little as he did so, though not from the cold. "With the little marshmallows?"
Sirius rolled his eyes, but grinned. "If you must," he said, starting off, making sure Remus was keeping up next to him, which he accomplished mostly by pulling the other boy with him. Remus didn't mind.
They skated back to the edge of the lake hand in hand.
****
But if I'd ever leave you,
It couldn't be in autumn.
How I'd leave in autumn I never will know.
I've seen how you sparkle
When fall nips the air.
I know you in autumn
And I must be there.
October, 1981
Remus sat on the bed while Sirius packed. It was an old habit, a throwback to their Hogwarts days when they would watch each other pack for summers and school holidays. These days, the packing on both their parts was much more frequent then it had been then. Remus picked a nit off the duvet and watched Sirius pick out socks.
"I won't be gone long."
"I know."
"Just until . . . it's over."
"Right."
"Remus . . ." Sirius started.
Remus held up a hand, forestalling whatever Sirius had been about to say. "I know," he said softly. He did. He did know. He knew that Sirius was off to finish the charm that was meant to keep James and Lily and Harry safe. He knew that this was best for everyone. He knew that Sirius left often these days, on one mission or another, and that he always came back. He knew Sirius couldn't tell him where he was going this time, couldn't tell him because the charm only worked when the only people who knew were the parties involved. He knew that Sirius couldn't tell him. He knew that didn't matter; that even if he could tell him, Sirius wouldn't. He knew that Sirius never told him where he was going anymore. He knew what that meant, too, though they never acknowledged it.
Sirius let go of whatever he was going to say, and kept packing. He carefully tucked the socks away, then went to the closet to select shirts and trousers, a couple of robes. At first, it had surprised Remus that Sirius was such a meticulous packer. For such a chaotic personality, Sirius was atypically orderly when it came to packing. He had a system. Remus watched him put the clothing into his bag, knowing he would go into the bathroom to collect his toiletries. Those came next.
Sure enough, Sirius went into the adjoining bathroom and began clattering around, looking, no doubt, for his toothbrush, toothpaste, razor. Remus sat on the bed, carefully smoothing out the duvet, one royal blue square at a time, while Sirius made a general racket in the bathroom. Sirius emerged a few minutes later, juggling toiletries, including what was Remus' aftershave. A year ago, Remus would have joked that Sirius was nicking his things. Now he gave the duvet one last pat and picked at a stain on the knee of his jeans.
Sirius put the items in the compartment allotted them and said, "I'll owl you when I get there."
Remus nodded. "Okay."
There must have been something in his voice that time, because Sirius looked up from what he was doing.
"Remus?"
Remus shook his head; he'd just had his hair cut, and he was sorry there was no fringe to come down and obscure his eyes. "What? It's fine.” I'm fine, you're fine, we're fine. He paused. "I'm just . . . maybe I'm missing James, Lily and Harry already." And you.
Sirius nodded, and zipped up the bag. "It's only for a little while. Temporary."
"Yeah. I know."
Sirius shouldered the bag and came around to the side of the bed, so he could lean in. "I'll owl you when I get there," he repeated, and gave Remus a quick-but-still-decent kiss on the lips.
"Okay," Remus said again, when Sirius had broken the kiss. "Be careful."
"I will." Sirius was already halfway to the door.
"I love you," Remus said. He watched Sirius nod in answer as he crossed the doorway. A few moments later, he heard the front door close.
"I love you," he said again to the empty flat. He got no answer at all this time.
****
If ever I would leave you
It wouldn't be in summer.
Seeing you in summer I never would go.
Your hair streaked with sun-light,
Your lips red as flame,
Your face with a lustre
that puts gold to shame!
June, 1995
Remus heard clattering noises in the kitchen and pulled on his bathrobe quickly, padding down the stairs in his bare feet. He picked his wand up off the desk in the corner of the living room and crept up to the kitchen door, peeking around the frame.
Sirius Black was standing in the middle of the kitchen, making tea.
I need to work on my wards, Remus thought. He stepped fully into the doorway, and Sirius turned away from the cabinet with a mug in each hand. They looked each other over, Sirius' eyes meeting Remus' only briefly before Remus had to look away.
"You need better wards," Sirius said, as if reading Remus' mind.
"Apparently," Remus answered, still not moving from the doorway.
"You always did unconsciously key them to people you loved," Sirius reminded him, his voice barely breaking on the last word. "Professor McGowan used to say that was the fatal flaw in your design plan."
Sirius was right; Remus had always had the habit of subconsciously keying wards to let in his loved ones when he was setting them up. He never meant to--it just always happened. And he hadn't had to worry about a loved one coming over unannounced, or otherwise, in a very long time.
He tried not to think about what it meant that he had automatically coded Sirius as loved one. It had been over a year since he changed the wards on this house. He wondered briefly who else the wards might let in without him knowing about it. Possibly no one.
Sirius dropped Darjeeling leaves into both mugs, then filled them with hot water. He sat one on the table and held the other in his hand, letting it steep as he cradled it.
"Dumbledore sent me," Sirius said.
Remus gave up and moved to sit in the chair opposite the mug Sirius had put on the table. "I know. He owled me." He stirred the tea a bit with his finger and then took a long, hot swallow. He could feel the liquid burn its way down his chest and into his stomach. He could feel Sirius looking at him, but he didn't look up into that regard.
"I can," Sirius started after a moment. "I can . . . do you want me to leave?"
This time Remus did look up. He shook his head. "No. No . . . no." Please don't leave, he thought. Please don't leave me, not ever again.
"Are you sure?" Sirius asked.
That, that, Remus was not prepared for. A shy, uncertain Sirius. Apprehensive. Anger flared as hot in his chest as the tea had just done. In that moment, he wished Peter Pettigrew dead, and wished he could do it himself.
Sirius had seen the anger written on his face, and had stepped back, probably thinking it was for him. "Yes," he said firmly. Sirius still looked doubtful, so he said it again. "Yes."
Sirius seemed to decide something, and came around the table to sit, across from Remus. Remus looked at his tea and then finished it in one long, hot swallow.
"Harry . . . do you know?" Sirius asked.
Remus nodded. "Dumbledore told me, but I'd like to hear it from you."
Sirius took a drink of his tea. "Later," he said.
"Later," Remus agreed.
There was quiet for a moment in the kitchen, before Sirius abruptly reached across and picked up Remus' empty mug. He looked into the mug carefully, turning it this way and that. Remus didn't say anything, just watched him, saw the terrible gauntness to his face, the thin wrist bone, the yellowed skin. Sirius put the mug back on the table but kept his hand on it, and looked at Remus gravely.
"Remus, I'm afraid that there's a visage of the Grim in the bottom of this mug," he said gravely. "Poor dear. Seems like there's going to be a big, black dog in your future."
Remus knew Sirius was joking, but he still thought I hope, I hope so, swallowing against a suddenly thick throat. On impulse, he reached across the table and plucked Sirius' hand from the tea mug and held it in his own. He leaned over and kissed the hand, the fingers, where the tattoos were, the numbers of Azkaban that were seared onto Sirius' knuckles. He could see Sirius' lashes flutter down to his cheeks in the near distance.
He brought Sirius' hand to his bent forehead and asked, "What else is in my future?"
Sirius sighed, a shudder. "That's up to you, Remus," he said.
Remus rubbed Sirius' knuckles against his cheekbone. "Maybe we'll start with a bath and another cup of tea?"
"I'll start the bath if you make the tea," Sirius offered. Remus nodded against Sirius' hand.
Eventually Sirius gently disengaged, and Remus watched him leave to go start the bath.
****
If ever I would leave you,
How could it be in spring-time?
Knowing how in spring I'm bewitched by you so?
April, 1997
Another Order meeting. Another shouting match. This time it was Snape and Harry, Snape and Mundungus, Snape and whomever-the-flavor-of-the-day was. Remus had tuned it out quite a while ago. The Weasleys were present, which meant that at least there had been a decent supper, thanks to Molly. Remus hated all the shouting on an empty stomach. Well, Remus hated all the shouting under any circumstances, but being hungry didn't help matters.
He took a careful survey around the room. Tonks and Arthur were speaking in hushed tones with Kingsley; Hermione was whispering with Molly. Ron was watching Harry carefully; Harry was the one currently arguing with Snape.
Harry finally threw his ace onto the table. "Maybe so, but I'm the one who is going to have to kill the bloody bastard!"
Game. Set. Match, Remus thought. That shut Snape up; that comment always cut any of them off at the knees. It was true, and they all knew it, and none of them liked it, so they didn't know what to say. Not even Snape, though Remus doubted that would last forever. One day the Potions Master would have a reply, even if it was only, "So go ahead and get it over with, then, and quit dancing around about it."
Remus saw Ron lower his eyes as Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder. Remus tuned out again and didn't hear what he said, though he was sure it was something appropriate, if not exactly comforting.
Remus just wished they'd all go back home, or to Hogwarts, and leave him in peace. The tension was ratcheting up these days; Voldemort, though content to have his henchmen do the dirty work, still had dirty work done all the same. Plus, the countdown to the annual end-of-the-school-year confrontation had everyone even more on edge than usual. Harry especially looked worn, frayed around the edges in a way that no sixteen year old boy should have to look. Every time he looked at Harry Remus' heart would ache; he was almost glad that James and Lily hadn't lived to see Harry look like this. He was almost glad Sirius hadn't lived to see Harry like this, either.
Almost.
Whatever Dumbledore had said, it seemed to have broken up the meeting. People were standing, and Snape had already flooed back to Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione were speaking to Harry, who was supported between them. Harry leaned in as Molly gave him a good-bye kiss on the cheek. Harry gave Remus a small wave in departure, Hermione smiled at him, and Ron nodded his head before they each stepped into the fire. Remus thought that if they could have managed it, all three would have gone at once. They didn't lose sight of each other at all these days, and Remus couldn't blame them, knowing as he did that losing sight of each other was what had brought him and Sirius, James and Lily, and Peter, brought them all, to this place.
All too soon, but not soon enough, the kitchen was empty. Molly had looked like she was going to say something to him as she was leaving, but she didn't, and for that Remus was grateful. He doused the fire in the kitchen and went upstairs, putting out candles and torches as he went.
He finally reached his bedroom, a quick spell illuminating the room just enough so he could change for bed without having to do so in the dark. He did so and then slipped underneath the cool, crisp sheets; it may have been spring, but there was still a definite chill to the air at night.
Then he reached for the book on the nightstand. This had been his nightly ritual since June; he was a bit ashamed of it, but he didn't know how to do without it. He wasn't even sure he wanted to.
The book itself was immaterial. He changed books every so often; hardly anyone came into this room, but sometimes people did, on one errand or another, and Remus didn't want to raise suspicions, didn't want people asking why he'd been reading the same book for months at a time.
It wasn't the book, but what was inside it. Inside, safely ensconced between two pages, was a picture. It was a wizarding picture, of course. Lily had taken it the spring after they had graduated from Hogwarts. They had been taking a tour of Muggle London, Lily and Remus showing off the sights to a somewhat awed James and Sirius.
This picture was of Sirius and Remus. They were standing in the courtyard of some attraction or another; Remus couldn't remember now exactly where they were. The courtyard was full of flowers; the plants and trees swayed in the spring breeze, and birds darted in and out of the picture, running their own errands.
He and Sirius were standing in the courtyard, arms slung around each other's shoulders, smiling. The picture Sirius would periodically wave madly to Lily and the picture Remus would shake his head and smile even wider. Eventually, the picture Sirius would say something that caught picture Remus' attention, and when Remus turned toward him in the picture to answer, Sirius would kiss Remus, rather thoroughly for being in public, Remus sometimes thought to himself when looking at the picture now. The kiss would break and picture Sirius would whisper something in picture Remus' ear. Remus didn't remember what it was, didn't remember what Sirius had said to get his attention then in the first place, but as long as whatever it was brought that look of joy onto his younger self's face, he didn't care.
Eventually the picture would wind down, as it always did, as many things in those days did, with Sirius getting distracted. Something out of the frame would catch his attention, and he would squeeze Remus' hand and then step forward until he had left the frame of the picture, leaving picture Remus to smile and shake his head after him affectionately.
It was always the same. He always left the picture, leaving Remus behind.
Now, at night, in the near dark, Remus let himself watch the picture three times. The third time, after Sirius stepped out of the frame again, Remus turned the picture over, and shut it back inside the book. He put the book back on the nightstand and said "Nox," to turn the lights all the way out. Remus settled down into bed and tucked the sheets around him, and tried, as he did every night, to accept that Sirius had gone away and left him behind, in reality, and not just in some old picture.
****
Oh, no! not in spring-time!
Summer, winter or fall!
No, never could I leave you at all!