An old, old, old HP repost

[still_ciircee]

Talking to my kids and mentioned a fic I did once for the Raising Harry ficathon. They demanded to read it so I found it, polished it up, and here it is.

Love you, kids.

Title: Please Check the Place and Time
Disclaimer: Jo Rowling and various companies, like Bloomsbury and Scholastica, own it all and make all the money. I just do this for fun.
Summary: When you're fugitive kidnappers who move constantly you sometimes lose track of a few little things...like each other.
Ratings: PG-13 to R-ish, mostly for swearing and also for a bit of sex
Note:This is, very obviously, AU.



Please Check the Place and Time

Year One, Day One, Hour Two

“Good lord." Remus had yet to stop saying it. Sirius would have thought he'd be tired of it by now.

"You're quite prayerful, Moony."

"Good lord. Do you know what you've done? You’ve kidnapped Harry Potter. You kidnapped Harry Potter."

"I did no such thing," Sirius said. He really hadn't. Kidnapped implied so many nasty things. "And anyhow, you were there. So technically it was 'we'."

Remus gave him a dark look before looking away again. "Fine then, do you know what we've done? We've kidnapped Harry Potter. We've kidnapped the most famous child in our world. We've stolen him."

There was nobody on the planet better at bringing a soul down than good, old Moony, Sirius thought wryly. "We didn’t steal him and we certainly didn't kidnap him; we rescued him." He bumped Remus with his hip and, when Remus slid aside, sat down on the park bench beside him. “You act like this is your first abduction.”

Remus turned his gaze from the little boy playing in the sand only a meter or two away. Sirius smiled winningly at him. "This," said Remus slowly, "is completely different."

Sirius pulled thoughtfully at his lower lip. "Not seeing it," he said at last. "I mean, yes, Harry's five and I was twenty-five…"

"You were bound for Azkaban prison!" Remus interrupted incredulously. "And I knew you were innocent!"

"You did not so," said Sirius, feeling warmly toward him. He flung an arm around his shoulders. "But you believed me when I said I was and once you stole my wand to prove it you-you-do you know, Remus, I really think you’re cut out to live the life of a petty crook much better than I am. In the last few years you’ve done a great deal of things that are completely illegal."

Remus shrugged off his arm. "Yes, I have. The latest of which is to kidnap a five year old child from the only home he's ever known."

The word 'home' started an icy fire in Sirius's stomach. "That place was not his home."

"Well, yes, Sirius, actually it was," Remus said testily. "Right up until you-oh, right, we-snatched him out of the garden, that was where he lived. The place where one lives is a home. A place, need I remind you, that we don't happen to have. As we move every fortnight or so because we are fugitives." He paused. "In case you don't recall," he added with his most polite and mannerly voice.

Sirius sighed, wondering how it was possible to love Remus like the next best thing to a brother and still want to throttle him. "Yes, and we both have a bounty on our heads. I remember." He paused, studying his friend; Remus looked more and more regretful with every second. He decided to play his ace card. "I asked Harry if he wanted to go back and get anything," he said carefully.

"Wha-go back to…? Have you gone ins-wait, wait…no, that's good, Sirius, that's really good. We could bring him back. Petunia wouldn't know me and I could say that I found him wandering and…"

"He said he didn’t have anything," Sirius cut across Remus before Remu's half-panicked monologue could pick up any more steam.

Remus blinked. "He didn't have anything he wanted to bring along?"

"He said he didn't have anything," Sirius repeated. Anger curled his hands into fists. "I asked him three times-differently-and he kept saying that he didn't have anything. They never gave him anything; no toys nor books, not even clothes, Remus."

"I…That's…" Remus blinked a few more times. "Harry?" he called at last. Harry, sifting sand through his fingers looked up without saying anything. Sirius said nothing as Remus beckoned Harry closer. When Harry was standing in front of Remus (just outside of reaching distance, Sirius noted with simmering fury), Remus asked him, "Harry is there anything you want to take from your Aunt and Uncle's house?"

Digging the toe of his battered trainers into the ground, Harry shook his head mutely.

"Anything at all, Harry," Remus pressed him gently, reaching out to put a hand on one of Harry's shoulders. Sirius knew by the tightening of the lines around his mouth that Remus had also noticed the way Harry had tensed. "If there’s anything you think you should have, anything of yours that we should take with us…"

Harry shook his head. "I don't have anything."

"Nothing that you want?"

There was a long, thoughtful pause. Then, "There are some things of Dudley's that I want," he said quietly, "but I don’t have anything of my own. But I wouldn't take them, honestly I wouldn't!" he added in a scared little voice at the look on Remus's face.

In an idle move, comfortable after mere minutes, Sirius reached out and ruffled Harry's untidy black hair, ignoring the half-formed flinch. "Of course you wouldn't," he said stoutly. "Besides, it's okay to envy the really brilliant things in life. I had a flying motorbike that Remus would have loved to have had for his very own." He nudged Remus's shoulder with his own. "I'm Sirius and you're Remus, by the way," he said to him in an undertone.

A ghost of a smile flickered to life in Remus's eyes. "Right," he said briskly. He stood and the hand that had been on Harry's shoulder shifted to grasp Harry's hand. The sight of it made Sirius smile for some esoteric, asinine reason. "Let's go."

Sirius watched Harry open his mouth, a question shimmering clearly in his eyes, and then shut it again just as quickly. "Well, if you're not going to ask, I am," he said. "Go where?"

Remus smiled at him, and then down at Harry. "To get you something of your own," he said.

"My own?" Harry whispered.

"Yes," They spoke at the same time and Sirius made a head motion that Remus should continue. "Only one thing, though," he said in a warning sort of voice and Sirius frowned at him, getting a steady, calm gaze in return. "Sirius and I don't have a lot of money so we can't buy much."

"Remus!" Sirius glared and grabbed Harry's other hand. He shouldn't have said that; it wasn't…but, yes, it was Harry's business. Not that he should have to worry about finances.

"And," Remus continued, speaking louder and Sirius felt bad for interrupting and deservedly stung from Remus thinking he'd continue on being an interruption. "We move a lot because…for…"

Sirius could see the word 'job' forming in his friend's brain and cut in. No lies. He'd have to remember to tell Remus that. No lies. "For our health. Remus has a sickness that means we have to move every so often. But it's not the sort of sickness you or I can get, Harry." They worked their asses off to make sure Remus couldn't pass it along.

"Certainly not," Remus agreed. Sirius felt forgiven. "Now, Harry, what do you think you want from the toy store?"

Harry began to talk quietly to himself, debating the merits of different objects and Sirius took the opportunity to lean over Harry's head and talk to Remus. "Good job telling him about the money thing," he said softly, as much an apology for his outburst as he was going to give.

Remus shrugged. "Good work on the health thing," he replied. In a louder voice he said, "Maybe two things, Harry, since tomorrow is your birthday."

"But the second one will be a surprise, and you can't have it until it's your birthday proper." Sirius nodded, "It's time you've had a proper birthday."

Year Two, Month Eight, Flat Three

"Is it ever going to quit raining?"

Remus looked up from mending the tear in Harry's jeans to glance from Sirius to the window. "No."

"Ha."

He smiled and bit off the thread he'd just knotted. "I don't see why you're bored; I'm the one who's been stuck with all the nasty chores while you and Harry played blocks for the past three days straight." He looked over at the untidy block towers that stood in the corner of the flat.

"That was important. It's Hogwarts," Sirius protested.

"In a state of complete disrepair," Remus said by way of agreement.

But Sirius's mood was fouler that he'd guessed. "Bloody March!" Sirius burst out, staring at the darkening window.

"Harry's asleep," Remus said, ignoring the mild swearing. He nodded at where Harry slept beneath the makeshift castle entryway. "Why don't you cart him off and tuck him in? You know he prefers you," he said after a moment of Sirius's reproachful staring.

"Fine." Sirius kicked the table as he got up and Remus bit back a sigh. And bit back another as he watched Sirius cradle Harry close as he carried him off to his bed; there was something about watching Sirius with Harry that made Remus feel warm, even in their unheated flat.

He wasn't obtuse enough to not realize what that 'something' was but neither was he masochistic enough to dwell on what it wasn't. Such as 'returned'. He rolled his eyes at himself. He rather thought that Sirius was dimly aware that he, Remus, harbored overly friendly feelings for him but it hadn’t prevented Sirius from whiling away the hours with those of the female persuasion. And Remus had made it as clear as he could that he wasn't pining. Even if he did, occasionally, pine.

He put away his musing as much for his sanity as for the fact that Sirius was rattling his way down the hall. "Since we're stuck in," he called out, heading for the narrow kitchen for the popcorn, "what would you want to…" he heard the sound of the front door opening. "Watch on the telly," he finished faintly. "Where are you going?"

Sirius stood propped in the doorway, dragging on a disreputable leather jacket. "To the club," he answered shortly.

"The club?" Remus repeated vacantly.

"Yes, the club. You might remember it; we live directly above it."

Automatically Remus's gaze went to the floor and he fancied that he could nearly see through the boards and the silencing charm to the dark, frenetic, dizzying club below. It was packed with writhing, hormone-filled bodies, most of them in dressed in varying shades of 'skimpy'. Tonight?" he said blankly.

"Yes, tonight," Sirius snarled.

Remus blinked, looking up. "What about Harry?"

"He’s a little young, don't you think?" Sirius said and Remus watched a familiar grin zip across his features, lighting up his gray eyes with a roguish light.

Ignoring it Remus turned away. "I don't know how you can be so cavalier about his safety," he said tightly, unable to ignore it entirely.

Behind him he heard Sirius take a few steps and then, dangerously. "Just what are you getting at, Remus?"

Don’t do it, Remus ordered himself. "You being gone if something happens and Harry needs you," he said coldly. And he'd done it.

"I thought you might be capable of taking care of yourself and him for one evening," Sirius said in a voice that was colder still. "But if you don't think the same, then I'll just have to come back here, won't I?"

"I guess I was mistaken, then," Remus said, feeling like ice inside and out. Why wouldn't he shut up? "It may have slipped your notice that while you're face isn't instantly recognizable, Harry's is."

Sirius's next words word were clipped, chippings from a glacier. "I am going to find some lovely bird with large breasts, long legs, hair like Lady Godiva, and shag her until we're both blind. She won't see Harry at all." Remus watched the block tower crumple with a flick of Sirius's wand. "Not even a trace of him," Sirius added as the blocks flew to their box and scooted themselves beneath the arm chair. "That'll have to do for taking care of Harry's safety, since I'm not allowed to be out at night."

Remus felt his heart lurch and his stomach drop as he heard Sirius stride angrily to the door. "Wait. Sirius, wait."

"For what? You to insult me again? I think not."

"For me to say that I'm sorry, you lump." Remus sighed and leaned against the door jamb opposite Sirius, taking in the stress lines that were beginning to become a permanent feature on his face. "I know you'd never do anything that would put Harry in danger. I'm sorry I picked a fight. I'm just feeling a little…caged."

"You are?" Sirius sounded so honestly befuddled that Remus smiled fondly, remembering again why he'd first become (and was still) friends with him. "I thought you…" he jerked his head in the general direction of their bathroom. "You know."

Remus laughed, feeling his anger and tension and his stupid bit of aching heart fade away. "I do,” he nodded in the same direction Sirius had. "And I thought that you did as well."

Sirius shrugged. "Of course I do. It's just not…oh." Comprehension tipped a dazzling smile onto Sirius's face. He looked out and then back and Remus glanced at the stairs too. "You can go tomorrow night," he said magnanimously, everything forgiven in a moment.

"I might just do," Remus said. "Have a good time. Take her back to her place; I just washed your sheets and I don't fancy doing them over again." Sirius grinned and clapped him on the back, whistling as he bounced jauntily down to the club. Remus watched him until he was gone and then shut the door. "This living together thing gets harder all the time," he muttered.

Year Three, Flat Seven, Transformation Fourteen

Due to lack of space, Sirius was forced to set up the cauldron on the range top. "Harry, my boy," he said, surveying the newer lack of space, "I think we're going to have a lot of sandwiches in the coming days."

Harry nodded, his face shining with determination. "That's okay, Sirius. I want Remus to be better."

Sirius grinned. "Good lad. Now, the first thing we do is dump in the goat blood." He scanned the counters for the pint he'd picked up at the butchers. "And…what?" he asked; Harry was shaking his head 'no'.

"Potions is like cooking Remus said and the first thing you do when you make pancakes is to make sure you've everything you need." Harry jumped off the small kitchen stool and raced out of the room. He was back a moment later lugging a pinched potions text that was nearly bigger than he was. Sitting on the floor, Harry opened the book and began flipping pages.

"Hand it over," Sirius said, amused. "I'll find it."

"No, I can do it," Harry said, biting his lip. "It's w-o-l-f-s-b-a-n-e," he spelt carefully. "Right?"

"Right," Sirius answered, impressed. "You and Remus have really been working on your reading, haven't you?"

"Mm-hm," Harry muttered, peering closely at the cramped writing on the page. "It's September and Remus said that since everybody else was in school, I should be too. We have cooking first and I make breakfast and then we do reading and then maths and then we have a break and play paints or clay or we make things with popsicle sticks. Then we have a snack and then we have double Charms and then we have lunch…"

"Wait," Sirius set the goat blood down carefully. "You have Charms? Remus is teaching you Charms?"

Nose pressed to the page, Harry nodded and fumbled his new glasses out of his shirt pocket. "Just theory now because I'm not big enough for practical. And then we have lunch and then Defense and that's just theory too and next term Remus says I'll have double Defense and not double Charms but anyway then we go to the park if it's nice or play games if it's not, then we do Magical Creatures and then I have quiet time and then we do Herbology and then we have clean up time and then you come home," he finished. "I found it." He pointed at the instructions for the Wolfsbane Potion.

"Very good, Harry." Sirius pointed his wand at the book and levitated it so that Harry could take his place on the stool again and still see the book. "You and Remus have been keeping yourselves busy."

Clambering up next to the stove, Harry grinned. "Remus says he wanted to be a teacher and that now he can't ever be because I'm the best student he'll ever have. But that's just being funny, isn't it? He can't be a teacher because he's a werewolf." He paused, uncertain. "Right?"

Sirius wracked his brains, trying to think what to say. No lies, he reminded himself. He took a deep, steadying breath. "Yeah, Harry, he is. Remus is a werewolf."

"Why, thank you, Padfoot. Harry, your godfather here is an animagi. He turns into a big, black, mad dog," Remus said from the door. Still in his pajamas and tousled, he looked like Death come to greet one Sirius Orion Black.

Harry looked at Remus. "What’s an animagi?" he asked. Sirius swore quietly. When his godson looked round at him he forced a pained smile. Harry looked back at Remus. "Is this one of those times when you're going to fight?"

"No, it's not," Sirius said at the same time Remus said, "Perceptive of you, Harry, yes." Sirius slammed his wand down on the stove and stalked to the door to go toe to toe with Remus. "No, it is not," he said, forcing Remus's golden-brown eyes to meet his own. "We're not going to fight."

Remus simply turned and went down the hall.

"Damn it, Moony," Sirius growled. He tossed a glance at Harry, tying on an apron at the stove and said, "stay here," before following Remus down the hall to his bedroom. "Damn it, Moony," he repeated as he shut the door behind him. "What?" he demanded. "What now?"

"You had no right," Remus said, his tone calm but his voice shaking. "You had no absolutely no right to tell Harry that."

Sirius gaped. "Are you mental?"

The look that Remus shot him would have blistered paint off the walls, if the walls had any. "Are you?"

"Oh for the love of…"

"It's my life you're so casually tossing around!"

"It's our life, you nutter! You think that Harry would tell? He knows not to say a word about either of us! And who would he tell, anyway? We move so often that he barely has a chance to meet anybody, let alone make a friend."

Shaking his head, Remus moved to the window and stared out at the bright, sunlit streets. "You don't understand. You wouldn't."

It hurt. That Remus would misunderstand him so and think so little of him hurt. Even if he truly didn't mean what he was saying (and Remus was the master of low blows in a fight) it hurt. Far more than it should have, given what Sirius knew of his friend. He tucked that information aside and focused on the argument. "Don't" he said fiercely. "You're the best friend I have. We're raising James's son together. You don't get to say that I don't care."

"Sirius…"

"I love you, Remus." It felt right to say it and since it was true, he felt no need to hold it back. "You're my best mate," he added hastily at the shocked look in his friends eyes, suddenly unsure of his own footing and unwilling to fall. "It's not something I say to everybody, you know. And I'm not sorry I told Harry about your furry little problem but I am sorry that you've felt abused about it."

"Sirius."

"Remus?" Harry stood in the doorway, hands behind his back. "Don't be mad at Sirius, please. He only told me because I asked. I…" he paused, looking guilty. "I read ahead in our Magical Creatures lessons. And the calendar has the moons on it. And last night Sirius put a sleeping Charm on me. I could feel it when I woke up. I feel it every time he' done it. So I did the maths and you're a werewolf. That's why Sirius wants to make a potion for you. So that you won't try to eat me anymore. But you're really great and I love you so I don't care if you try to eat me every month."

The simplicity of it, the absurdity of it made Sirius grin. "Maybe I just want to get some sleep on full moon nights," he said, reaching out to tickle Harry. "I don't know that I'd mind him chomping you up."

Harry giggled and brought his hands up to defend himself and Sirius had to duck a jet of sparks from his own wand, clutched tightly in Harry's fist. Harry looked down at the wand and then offered it out, wincing. "I made a fire with your wand, Sirius, and I put the goat blood in the cauldron and I added the occamy eggs," he said, squirming. "But I can't read the next part; the words are too big."

Sirius looked at Remus and as Remus stared to laugh, he joined in. "Come on, Harry," Remus chuckled. "Let's go see what you've managed on your first Charms practical."

Following them down the hall Sirius grinned. "You know, Remus, we should probably buy him a wand if you're going to be teaching him." Harry’s excited 'yes' nearly drown out Remus's 'oh no' but Sirius heard it and laughed anyway.

Year Four, Mini-Crisis Ten, Cigarette Two

It wasn't often that Remus returned home to a darkened flat and so when he did, he carefully drew his wand. They'd just recently moved but, since it had been a move precipitated by a visit from a few very friendly Aurors, caution was warranted. "Harry? Sirius?" A smell from the open window and a sniffle from the direction of the sofa caught his attention. He decided on the sofa, first. "Harry?"

"I want to go back to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's house."

"Good lord," Remus muttered. "Sirius, put out that cigarette and come inside," he called. His only answer was the faint flashing of hot ash falling past the dark window. Flipping on the lights he pulled a carton of Chinese take away out of the plastic bag he was carrying and, digging a fork out of the drawer, passed it out the window on to the fire escape. "Here," he said, grabbing a second fork and thrusting one of the other cartons at Harry. "Pot stickers."

Harry sniffled, looking miserable and forlorn on the couch. "I don't want any."

Remus took a deep breath. "Fine, then. I'll eat it when I've finished mine." He picked up his sweet and sour pork. "You can tell me what's gone wrong while I was at work."

In answer, Harry flopped back on the sofa, rolled over, and planted himself face down in a pillow.

"You do not want to go back to your Aunt's house. Whatever he said, you know he didn't mean it. Especially if he shouted it. He loves you more than anybody else on this planet, even if he doesn't say it. You're just going to have to be more mature than he is and accept it. He'll apologize in his own way once he's got over himself," Remus counseled.

There was a slight head-nodding motion and, without removing his head from the pillow, Harry stuck out one hand. Remus helpfully put the fork into the outstretched hand and set the carton on the floor within reaching distance. "I'm going to talk to your godfather now," Remus told him as Harry tried to eat without emerging. "Please, if you get fried rice on the pillows, don't lick it off."

Remus gave his pork a longing look before he stepped up on to the foldout table, careful of the food, and crawled out the window. Sirius, on the next landing up and next to the roof, looked down at him and jabbed his fork roughly into the carton he'd retrieved. "He asked if he could call me 'Dad'."

"Well, I imagine from the state of things that you did more than tell him 'no'."

"Fucking hell, Remus," Sirius said and Remus felt something sick slither through him; it sounded very much like Sirius was fighting back tears. He took the metal stairs two at a time and stood uncertainly in front of his friend. Sirius looked up at him, grey eyes swimming and starting to overflow. "Fucking hell," he repeated and then buried his head against Remus's stomach.

"Sirius," Remus sighed, feeling raw inside. He shifted, sat down, and wrapped his arms around Sirius, feeling tears hot against his neck as Sirius hid his face again. "Oh, Sirius. We knew it could happen. He doesn't remember James. Not his own memories, at any rate. We've talked about what we'd do."

The body against his shuddered. "Well, he surprised me. We were talking about Quidditch and I was telling him about the last match James and I played in fifth year."

"The one where you were both disqualified for hexing the Ravenclaw beaters into dresses?"

Instead of a laugh there was another shudder and the damp patch spread. "He said, right in the middle of it, right as I was telling him about his dad, he said 'but you're my dad now' and then he said that he wanted to call me that. I yelled at him. I can't even remember what I said."

Remus smoothed Sirius's hair back idly. "Why do I not find this surprising?" He laid an absentminded kiss against the top of Sirius's head. "So, you shouted and then you came out here to have one of those mankey smokes we found in the bathroom when we moved in here?"

"No," Sirius said on a shaky inhale. "Then he said he hated me."

"Christ."

"He meant it, Remus. You didn't see him. He meant it. He hates me."

"He does not." He forcibly restrained Sirius when Sirius tried to stand. "You lump, listen to me. Harry is eight. Eight-year-olds mean what they say for about five minutes and then they don't anymore. He loves you enough to want to be your son and he trusts you enough to still love him even when he's been hateful." He pressed another kiss against Sirius's hair. "You're such a stupid bastard, Sirius, I don't know why I put up with you," he said affectionately.

Sirius surged up and kissed him so suddenly that for a moment all Remus could do was be kissed and taste the tang of soy sauce and the faint hint of cigarette smoke. Then he closed his eyes and pushed Sirius away as hard as he could. "What the hell?" he asked warily, opening his eyes again.

"You were having a wank in the bed last week," Sirius said.

He felt himself turn red. "I repeat myself: what the bloody hell?"

"While I was right there beside you, Remus," said Sirius, as though it explained anything at all..

"I know what I was doing! But if I'm too lazy to get up and do it in the bath and we have to share a bed in this flat then in the bed right beside you is where it gets done!"

His answer was another kiss, furious and hard, but Remus had seen the old, unspoken fear that had been on Sirius's face so he didn't push him away. It took a lot to not kiss him back, more as the kiss gentled, but he didn't respond, merely accepted the kiss for as long as it went on, trying to absorb the details of it anyway. "Remus," Sirius whispered as he pulled back.

Remus pulled him forward into a hug. "You are a stupid bastard. Harry doesn’t hate you. You've been my best mate since I was eleven so I don't think it's technically possible for me to hate you. You kissing me does not make me love you any more nor any less. I don't know that anything could."

The arms around him tightened briefly. "I should go and talk with Harry."

"Yes, you should." He turned Sirius loose, nicking the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket as he did so. "I'm going to go up to the top and throw these abhorrent things off the roof."

"I'm sorry."

Remus waved him off. "Don't be. You're a smashing kisser."

"You were a dead fish," Sirius grinned.

There were certain things he could have said, but he chose none of them. Remus gave him an arched look and stood, moving toward the roof.

Behind him he could hear Sirius started down the stairs, his boots ringing on the metal. The sound stopped and Remus looked down to see Sirius paused at the window looking up. Proving how well he really knew him, Sirius said, "There was only the two left in the pack. I'll tell Harry to keep his fork out of your pork and I'll put a warmer on it for you."

"Cheers."

Remus lit the end of the cigarette with his wand tip and sighed. He leant against the cold rails and smoked until the glow reached the filter and he was certain that Sirius had vacated the kitchen completely.

Year Five, Flat 23, Colossal Mistake One

Sirius crouched behind the upended table, wand drawn. "Remus, get Harry and get the hell out of here!" he shouted, popping up to send a volley of hexes toward the shapes moving uninvited through the flat.

"Sirius, no!" Harry was shouting and Sirius could see him struggling against Remus's hold.

"Harry, yes," Remus was stronger than he looked, muscling Harry towards the stairs to their flat's tiny and un-spelled basement. "Neither of us have a wand and he can take care of himself long enough for all of us to escape."

"No!"

"Now might be excellent timing!" Sirius shouted, shooting randomly at the ever-growing crowd of shadows.

"Sirius!"

He couldn't risk a glance over to be sure, but it didn't sound like Remus had him on the step and the return fire was awfully close and awfully nasty. He kicked a fallen wand-one of the Auror's-in Remus's direction. "Stun him," he said tensely.

Remus's quiet oath was immediately followed by the Stunning spell; the last half of the incantation was drown out by the outrage from across the room. Sirius didn't care what the Aurors thought of his parenting skills. He launched another set of hexes close behind Remus's back as he hurtled toward the stairs with a now limp Harry in his arms.

He waited, firing off jinx after jinx, counting to sixty and back again. It seemed to take forever and when it was up, Sirius almost wished it wasn't. He pointed his wand at the ceiling and muttered a quick prayer and a spell.

The ceiling, the whole building, crashed down. In the split second he had he transformed, picking up his wand in Padfoot's mouth. He leapt easily over the table legs and dodged around the strewn chairs. He paused for a moment and spent the other half of that split second to nosed Remus's dropped wand through the open basement door. He paid for it even as he jumped, jagged bits of building coming down on his hind legs with brutal force and he slipped, rolling painfully down the stairs. He transformed again, the dog's whimpers becoming a man's mutter of pain. He shoved both wands into his robes and, without standing, rolled over and Apparated.

It was raining in London, a drenching downpour. "Fitting," Sirius muttered, pushing himself up from the pavement. He wasn't going to do what he had to do on his knees. "Number 12, Grimmauld Place," he demanded of the night "show yourself to your master."

The house of his nightmares ballooned out of the strip of space between numbers ten and fourteen. He had to close his eyes to take that first, limping step and found it easier to just keep them closed as he passed through the doorway into his own personal hell. "Hello, mother," he said as the portrait beside him began to shriek and cast aspersions. He aimed a blast of fire at it and, in the ten seconds of ensuing silence, managed to spell a drape over her frame. He looked blearily around and had just opened his mouth to shout for Remus when Remus appeared in the long hall from the kitchen.

"Sirius. Thank heavens." Remus approached him quickly and Sirius could feel the way his eyes traced over him. "I was just about to go back for you."

"Ta," Sirius muttered tiredly, passing Remus his wand. "Where's Harry? How is Harry?"

Remus let out a breath with a hard puff. "He's…all right. I was scared for a moment that I'd hit him too hard. Hell, any stunner is too hard for a child-and next time you’re doing it-but he's okay. He woke up when I enervated him and managed the Apparation. He even managed to ask about you. Thankfully he fell asleep before I could tell him you weren't here yet." Remus paused, "He's in your Mum's old room. It seemed the safest." Sirius realized that he must have looked strange because Remus explained, "The whole house is infested with Dark stuff."

"Well, that's not unexpected," Sirius muttered, mentally cursing his family. Speaking of infestations…Kreacher?"

"I Stunned him, Obliviated him, and stuffed him under the sink."

The sheer relish of that statement made him smile. "Who'd have ever guessed that you held a grudge?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm for bed," he added, turning toward the stairs, "my old room hasn't had a go at me for years."

But pain, sharp and fiery fresh stopped him. The room swam and he felt his knees buckle. "Sirius!" Remus was suddenly hovering over him, his wand sticking comically up from the collar of his shirt. "You're hurt."

Sirius nodded. "Probably. A good section of building seemed to have caught me before I made the basement."

"Can you stand?" He managed a nod and let Remus drag him back to his feet and steer him to the parlor. "Where did it get you?"

It took a moment to concentrate around the hive of pain building around him He focused on the fire Remus had conjured and the warmth beginning to seep into the room. "Hind legs," he managed. "Padfoot could move faster," he explained. "Trousers dropping," he warned. He heard Remus gasped and guessed it wasn't good. "Bad?"

"Worse," Remus confirmed. "Stretch out here on the floor and lose the rest of your clothes. I'm going to see what I can find to patch you up." Sirius struggled out of his pants and shirt, floating on the surface of the pain, feeling his body humming as the tiredness receded and the adrenaline rush caught up to him. "Any spell damage?" Remus asked, padding back into the room.

Sirius took a mental inventory of his bits and pieces. "No. You?"

"Boils. I took care of them."

That explained the wand down his back earlier. "Boils? They threw boils at you?"

He could hear Remus smile. "If you're getting worked up, it can't be that bad. And yes, boils. Shacklebolt and I used to be friendly with each other. Hold on, this will sting a bit."

It didn't sting, it flayed. "Holy hell, Remus!" Sirius gasped as the pain crawled through him.

"Shh, shh," Remus muttered, soothingly. "It's okay. It's just the salves." Sirius felt him leaning close and relaxed at the shelter inherent in Remus's instinctual movement. "There you are, just relax. It'll stop hurting in a bit," Remus continued to murmur even as he spread the wicked frying pain up the length of Sirius's legs. But the hand not applying the salves was right there alongside it, stroking, kneading, giving Sirius something to concentrate on besides the pain and he did relax. And drift and think…

Idiot, he silently berated himself. Now is not the time to think about all the stuff you start to think about. All the stuff that kissing Remus on a fire escape had stirred up in him. The scary stuff, the warm stuff, the stuff that was decidedly more than a kiss or two and usually involved those hands that were currently on his back, rubbing soothing circles above the injury line. "Remus?" Hell.

"Yes?"

"Are you all right?" It was the most asinine thing he could have said, but it was the most valid question he could come up with.

Remus's hands slowed. "Completely. Well, once my heart rate slows." There was a moment of silence. "Your clothes are trashed. They're shredded."

"Crap," Sirius muttered, not really caring. They kept a spare set of clothing and all their money in their Appariton spot. Maybe he did care after all. "Grabbed the kit, did you?" he asked, only mildly curious.

"I did, actually. Automatic habit, I guess. Which is good, since it means you don't have to go around starkers."

Sirius sighed. "Pity." He felt Remus's hands lift away from his body. "Remus?" Remus was sitting back, eyes narrowed. "Come on, Remus," he said, knowing exactly the sort of invitation he was issuing.

"No, Sirius."

He hadn't been expecting a refusal. "No?" he asked, sitting up. Just because it'd been given didn't mean he was going to accept it. "Are you sure?"

"Damn it, Sirius," Remus said, not backing away even as Sirius leaned closer, even as his eyes fluttered shut, hiding the heat in them.

"I thought so." He kissed him, the wild mix of stifled want and open heat and the current circumstances making him rough.

Remus bit him and broke the kiss, breathing hard. "You know I don't want this."

"Liar," Sirius challenged him, ducking close as though to kiss him again but not making contact. It was Remus who completed it, moaning.

"I don't," Remus said again, though the fact that he was panting it right into Sirius's open mouth robbed it of much of its believability.

It was the look in his eyes that slowed Sirius's hands as the raced over buttons and underneath protective layers of cloth. There was something huge and frightening and intense there and Sirius felt like cowering before it, felt it drag his own deeper emotions up to the surface, confused and broken and incomplete, to cover the physical storm. "Remus…?"

"Too late," Remus muttered and Sirius agreed because his hand had found Remus, hotter than he'd known and darkly exciting, and Remus's hand had found him and just …stroked. His eyes rolled back in his head as that one, simple touch threatened to pull all the blood in his body away from some vital organs.

He rolled, pinning Remus beneath him. "Now what?" he asked, half lost and a little unsure. He pressed his hips forward, moving by blind instinct, and lost his breath in a groan.

"That will do nicely," Remus gasped beneath him. He shifted, aligned their hips in some new way, and Sirius silently gave thanks for anything and everything that had ever brought him and Remus together. It almost didn't register that Remus was speaking.

"What?"

"Your hand," Remus said, more of a command than a request. "Give me your hand, Sirius."

Sirius tried to figure out where his hands were and the one that he could think to find he refused to move. "Nuh-uh," he muttered. Then, "kiss me again."

"Selfish…" Remus bit out, dodging the kiss and Sirius was about to swear when Remus's hand left him. Was about to swear again until Remus licked his palm, eyes hot on his own, and then Remus touched him again. Slid over him in new and exciting ways.

"Again," Sirius moaned, not even caring when Remus laughed at him. All that mattered was the way that they were moving, the friction and the sweet, gliding press of Remus's hand. "Again. Remus, now," he heard his own words distantly. One more thing adding heat to firestorm.

And Remus's breathless laugh added more. "No. Not yet. Not yet."

"Come on, Remus," Sirius panted. "Come on. Yet." He could hear the note of desperation that was bleeding toward pleading.

"Not yet."

"Yet."

"Not…" Sirius dragged his hand away and hurriedly licked it before sending it back between them. He watched Remus's eyes as they went blind for a moment. He grinned in triumph and licked his lips to see if any of that tart taste that had been on his hand lingered.

"Yet?"

"Yet."

"Good."

And it was good. A sloppy, uncoordinated tangle of hands and mouths and stroking hands and moving bodies and it was probably worse than his very first time yet it felt so much better than anything Sirius could ever recall. It felt…it felt like…but that thought, all thoughts, dissolved as his brain melted and ran down his spine to spill out along with Remus's name on a sigh just before blackness swam over him and claimed him.

When the blackness receded, Sirius realized that he'd probably passed out and for quite some time. The fire was low and there was no sticky mess anywhere on him when he knew perfectly well that he'd had twice as much 'stick' to be 'y' with. "Remus?"

"You've got a lump on your skull nearly as big as my fist. How did you say you got into the basement again?"

"I fell down the stairs." Sirius pushed himself up and looked around. Remus was fully dressed, sitting on the settee. "Going somewhere?"

Remus looked away. "As a matter of fact, yes."

"Well, if it's the deli, I want turkey. In a pita, not on rye this time and make sure there's no lettuce."

The laugh that Remus let out was mirthless and dry. "I know how you take a sandwich, Sirius. It's been years. But I'm not going to the deli. And… and I'm not sure when I'll be back."

Sirius looked around and spotted his emergency clothes. He pulled on his pants and ran his hand through his hair. "I'm not stupid enough to ask why, I suppose?"

The look Remus gave him was horrible. "Do you remember us talking about the Stockholm Syndrome?"

"What makes you think I can think?" Sirius muttered. But he tried, dredging through the memories until he found that one and swore. "You are not my captor, Remus."

A smile played tug of war with a frown. "Aren't I? Aren't we both?"

"We did not shag until I was unconscious just because we've been bloody stuck together for the last nine years!"

"'Stuck'? 'Just' because? Then why did we, Sirius?"

"Bloody fuck, Remus, I don't know. Okay? A lot went on tonight and it felt right, so we did."

"It did not feel right. Not to either of us and you know it. I said no a few times and you were scared spitless at least once."

"And then it was good, Remus." Sirius threw up his hand in exasperation. "We did it, it was great, and now this. What do you want from me?"

Whatever answer he thought he was going to get, Remus standing up and leaving the room wasn't it. "I'll be back, Sirius," he said when Sirius finally scrambled to his feet and caught him at the door to the street. "I don't know when, but I will come back."

It was infuriating, or at least that was the emotion that Sirius was could recognize and all others he swept aside. "Why? Because I'm you’re bloody captor?" he demanded.

Possibly they were the only words that could have made things worse. "And here I actually thought that I wasn't leaving just for myself," Remus said, his voice sardonic and cold. He slammed the door behind himself so hard that it rattled on its hinges.

When he returned three days later, with the keys to a new flat, Sirius forgot the days of mostly unpleasant rampant emotions and awkward questions from Harry that had made him angry, sad, and frightened in turns and hugged him hard. "All right?" he asked quietly.

The return hug was slow but otherwise unchanged. "Yeah, all right."

Year Six, Month Twelve, Letter One, Important Choices Ninety-six and -seven

"Remus? Remus, wake up."

Having worked a double shift, one of which was the graveyard, Remus didn’t feel up to doing more than rolling over. "Mph?" he asked, knowing better than to completely ignore Sirius. There was a dip of weight which told him that Sirius had just got into bed with him and Remus opened his eyes quickly. "Time?"

"Just gone ten."

"I have had two hours of sleep out of the last twenty-four. Kindly remove yourself from my bed, Sirius."

The stubborn weight didn't so much as shift. "Remus, Harry got post."

At first the thought didn't register. And then it did. "We've got to go." He sat up, his head feeling heavy but clear. "How much time do we have to pack?"

"It's not…" Sirius gestured in a helpless sort of way. "It's about three addresses ago, I think. When did we last live in Manchester? Before Liverpool , right? It's old." Before Remus could ask how it had found them, Harry burst into the room, waving the letter. Thick, heavy parchment with emerald green ink emblazoned on it. He didn't need Harry to drop in his lap to see the Hogwarts crest in sealing wax.

"Hogwarts!" Harry crowed. "They've got a place for me! They need my answer by today! It barely got here in time! But look," Harry said, turning it over, "there's a supplies list. I need a cauldron and some new books. A wand…finally. Potions stuff, scales, dragon hide gloves…” He looked up. "That lot is going to be spendy."

Remus shared a look with Sirius, torn between amusement and complete horror. No," he said faintly, "there's money for it."

"Cool!" Harry grinned. "Where do we go for all of this? Diagon Alley? Can I go with this time? I have to, to get a wand, don't I?"

"Yes. Harry…" Sirius started, stopped, and Remus met his look helplessly. "Going to Hogwarts is your choice."

"I want to go!"

"Yes, but, if you go, Harry, you…we won't be able to see each other again."

Remus moved his legs just in time for Harry to drop heavily into the place where they had been. "Just for the school year, Sirius," he said, but his voice was careful, cautious. "And I can come home for Christmas and Easter holiday as well. Wherever it is."

"Harry, Remus and I are wanted felons."

"But you're innocent and Remus was only saving you because he knew you were innocent! If they give you a trial now, you'll be let off for sure." Harry stuck out his chin stubbornly.

Remus pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Harry, we kidnapped you. Well, Sirius did."

"You were there, Remus."

"You rescued me!" Harry cried.

The flashback to nearly seven years earlier made Remus smile suddenly. "Maybe we did after all, but the rest of the world doesn't know that. And if you try to tell them that," he said as Harry's eyes turned mutinous, "they'll only think that we've Befuddled you or Confunded you. We've had you for seven years, Harry, and we're wanted wizards. The authorities are not going to believe a word you say about us."

"Sirius! Talk to him!"

Sirius sighed and slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. "He’s right, Harry. You wouldn't be able to contact us safely. Any owl you sent could be tracked."

Harry's eyes were a mirror. Remus could only guess at what was happening behind the spectacles and the brilliant green color. After a few moments of silence, he deliberately crumpled his letter in his fist. "I'm not going. You can keep teaching me, Remus. You're probably way better than anybody they've got and I can always get a wand some other time."

Remus touched Harry's scar gently, strangely fond of the hateful old thing. "Everybody would know you at once. We've tried to cover it before, but it can't be hidden. It's why we haven't already taken you to get a wand."

He watched Harry absorb the new blow and was proud of him. "There have to be other ways of getting a wand. Maybe another country. You've always said we might go abroad." He got up and threw the letter into the trash. "I'm going to write them back and tell them to shove off."

Sirius caught Harry by the arm and swung him around, pulling him back to the bed. Remus closed his eyes at the sight of the unshed tears. "You'll do no such thing," Sirius said firmly. "You're going to write them and tell them that you can't wait to come, that you've been dreaming this moment since you were five years old."

"You said it was my choice!"

Sirius shook him. "And I won't let you throw it away over Remus and me, Harry. You want to go and you're going if I have to truss you up and throw you on the Express myself."

Harry jerked away. "No! We can't afford it. I wouldn't be able to afford it if I couldn't come home! How am I going to earn any money? A paper route?"

Remus caught him as he tried to get up again. "Your parents left you a heaping, huge fortune in Gringotts. No, they did," he stopped Harry short, "but we haven't been able to access it because we don't have your key. A good guess is that Dumbleore has it and is keeping it safe for you. He'd certainly have a place for you to stay for the summer holidays."

"Where? At the school? With my Aunt? It won't be any good."

"I don't know, Harry," Remus sighed. "But you can trust Dumbledore. He's a good man. I trust him. Sirius does."

Harry stared at them. "No," he said. But his determination had wavered.

Sirius drew him in to a rough hug. "You're such a brat," he whispered affectionately. "We can write to you. They won't be able to track the owls we send."

"But you said…: Harry’s voice was muffled by Sirius's shoulder and Remus took the time to rub at his eyes.

"I know what I said. I know what Remus said. They'll track any owl you try to send, Harry. You won't be able to contact us. That's all." That's all, Remus thought mournfully, as though that somehow made it better. "Besides, you can't ever lose the people you love, Harry. You've still got your Mum and Dad and you'll always have me and Remus no matter what." He pushed Harry back and gave him a gentle nudge to the floor. "Go write your letter."

Harry's watery nod made Remus's heart ache. "Don't send it just yet," he said, surprised by how normal his voice sounded. "Sirius and I will have to pack and leave before you do." He wasn't sure whose 'what' was funnier. "They'll have a spell on the owl. Your letter will probably reach them about ten seconds after you give it to the owl and the Aurors, at least, will be here about ten seconds after that."

"Christ," Sirius whispered nearly soundlessly as Harry left. "Christ, this is soon."

Remus couldn't answer, felt like he'd choke if he tried. Instead he hauled his trunk out from underneath his bed. "Would you pack my things?" he asked. "I thought I'd do Harry's. He may as well be ready to go when they get here."

When Sirius drew his wand, Remus escaped down the hall to Harry's room. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, fighting himself for control and glad that Harry was sitting at the dining table to write his letter. He flicked his wand and watched the room being to sort itself into the limited space in the trunk already open on Harry's bed. He didn't have to supervise, but he did. Down the hall he could hear his room and Sirius's packing themselves away. The sound was familiar and homey, or would have been if not for the finality of it all. Three trunks packing, three lives diverging.

"Getting maudlin, old son?" Sirius asked quietly from the other side of the door. Remus felt a small smile come and go.

He leant forward so that Sirius could open the door. "You know me well." He swallowed hard. "Is he ready?"

"Are we?" Sirius answered. "As he, and we, will ever be, I assume." He gestured behind them, to the rest of the flat. "After you."

Remus stepped over his own trunk as he made his way to where Harry stood in the kitchen/living/dining room. He hugged Harry closely. Be good. I expect to hear you're top of your form. I’ll see you again soon. He planned to say them all but found that he couldn't really speak. He drew back, smiling as hard as he could and when Harry looked at him with anguish in his eyes, kissed him on the forehead. "I love you, Harry," he said quietly.

Harry's lips trembled but he smiled. "I love you, too, Remus. I'll make you proud. I promise."

"You already have," Remus whispered and he had to turn quickly and escape down the hall before he grabbed Harry so tightly he couldn't let go. He pulled his trunk to the bathroom, their Appartition zone, and as he turned to close the door he saw Sirius and Harry clinging together smiling as they cried; he tried to take a picture of the moment in his head, the same way he'd once tried to memorize a kiss in the dark coldness of a fire escape. He shut the door quickly and sent his trunk on its way before he Apparated.

The room he reappeared in was dusty with stale, hot air that hadn't been able to escape the summer heat through the closed windows. He sat down on his trunk and waited, scooting to the side when Sirius’s trunk popped into the room and not looking up when Sirius himself turned up.

"When I see that boy again I'm not saying goodbye until I know I can see him whenever I want," Sirius announced.

Remus smiled. "Agreed." He gestured to the floor. At their old apartment just below them. "Did you want to watch?"

"Good lord, you are mental. Of course not."

They waited in silence for only a few seconds before the first, faint popping noises reached them, and then, Harry's defiant voice loudly and clearly telling the first Aurors on the scene that he'd Bat-Bogey Hex them if they tried to find out where Sirius and Remus had gone. "That's my boy," Sirius said delightedly.

"Shh!" Remus hissed. "Is Moody with them?"

Sirius listened, head cocked. "Doesn't sound like it. Dwalish . Shaklebolt . That sounds like Fudge."

Remus nodded. "I expected that." A new voice joined the fray. "Dumbledore." He let out a breath. "Good."

"I knew he'd come," Sirius sighed.

They listened to the room below them empty and when the noises stopped Remus looked at Sirius. "I feel like I just pulled my heart out through my nose. You?"

"I was going to pick a bit more distant spot, but that'll do." Sirius stood and dusted himself off. "So, where do you want to go? I was thinking that P-"

"Don't." Remus stood up and faced him, feeling like he was about to cram his heart back in through that bit more distant spot of Sirius's. "Don't tell me."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You can't object. You don't even know where I was going to say."

"Don't." Remus took a fortifying breath and held out his hand. Sirius took it automatically and Remus shook it. "This is where we go our separate ways. It'd be better for you if you didn't tell me where you were going."

"Paris," said Sirius and when Remus tried to drop his hand, he wouldn't. "And you're either going to come with me or I'm going to go with you wherever you think it is that you're going."

Remus gave up on regaining his hand. "I've given this a lot of thought, Sirius." A year and six months, he thought. "And this is what's best. From what Harry said down there, they're going to know that we're traveling together. If they're looking for two men together, then they'll miss us both as two men traveling apart."

"You're stupid," Sirius said sharply. "After all the times they've nearly caught us? If they haven't known that we've been together since the moment you nicked me off their boat, then you're just really, really stupid."

"Sirius," he gritted out the name. He sighed. "These past ten years have been fun. And a pain. And an adventure. And a complete disaster."

"Full," Sirius countered.

"As good a word as any," Remus said and he felt his heart break. "But it's time to part. We've got enough money saved to split two ways. Harry's in their hands so they're going to know our patterns. It's time."

Sirius tugged on his hand and in a moment Remus found himself flush against him. "I just gave up my son, Remus," he said, his voice breaking as much as Remus's heart just had. "And now you're saying I have to give you up, too? You're telling me that I have to lose my best friend, my partner…my lover? My…I don't even have a word for what you are! My-"

He couldn't help it. He'd known Sirius since he was eleven. "Werewolf?" he offered.

The look on Sirius's face was priceless before it faded into a worn out, tired shell. "You might as well just put your wand on me now."

It hurt. "I thought we talked about this, Sirius."

"When? When did we talk about this? When you disappeared for three days? I was so damn glad to have you back that I never talked to you about anything from that night again. I never told you what I went through in those days you were gone. Because I was afraid you'd leave again and not come back. Well, since you're set on going, I love you. I've never been your captive or your captor or you fucking Syndrome. I could have left any time and it wouldn't have been any harder away from you than with you."

"Sirius, honestly."

"I could have raised Harry by myself if I'd wanted. I could have left if I'd wanted to, only I never did. I never did, Remus. I can't help that it took me so long to figure out why."

"We can't do this, Sirius."

"Why can't we?" he demanded.

Remus felt himself wearing under it. He couldn't say no to both of them for so long. He'd loved Sirius for far too long. But neither could he let himself be torn up the way he'd been before. "You know why."

He wasn't prepared for Sirius to drop his hand and tackle him to the floor. "I do not know why. You love me, Remus. Jesus, you've never been good at hiding it. And if you don't believe me when I say that I love you now, then give me time and I can prove it. Give me time, Remus," the words ghosted against his ear. "Give me Paris. Let me give you Paris."

"Sirius," he whispered and even though he knew it was coming he didn’t dodge the kiss that brushed like a butterfly against his mouth. "Don't be such a smarmy prat." He was giving in. Good lord.

Sirius grinned at him. "Romantic. And it's not like I'm asking you to kidnap Harry Potter with me, Remus," Sirius said, carding his fingers through Remus's hair.

Remus swatted his hand away. "We've already done that." He felt himself smiling and when he pushed Sirius off of himself it was gentle. "Let's find something else to do for the next seven years." He stood and neatened his hair. "Between letters, of course."

"Of course," Sirius grinned. "After we steal back my motorbike from Hagrid."

"We're not flying that thing to France!"

"We'll fly it somewhere," Sirius grinned. "We've got a few years to figure out just where."

"Good lord."