With Cleansing Breath, Part I
Title: With Cleansing Breath, Part I
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: R
Type: multi-chap, angst, slash
Summary: Remus remembers the good times he had with Sirius, the days and nights they spent together in their house. But he must not forget to live in the present and will struggle to find out who he really is - this time alone without his mate. When he finally gets his life on track, the first love of his life makes another appearance and throws everything off balance.
Author’s Note: Fits into my The Sharing of Breath universe, but hopefully written in such a way that reading the first two stories are not necessary. Begins shortly after Sirius is sent to Azkaban and goes through the fifth book. Un'betaed so all mistakes are mine. Thanks to Maple for helping with the title!
WITH CLEANSING BREATH
XXXXXXX
PART I
XXXXXXX
It was the first day of March and he was twenty-three. He hadn’t been back to the house since November and everything was covered in thick white dust. The chair in the kitchen was still overturned from where he’d fallen, stains on the floor from where he’d spit out blood from his broken lip. There was a stench of vomit because he’d also thrown-up, but whether it was a phantom smell or real, he couldn’t tell. The Daily Prophet was there, its pages scattered, the headline still reading about the betrayal of Sirius Black.
He went to their bedroom with a box in his hand and began to gather up the things he wanted to keep. Originally, the idea had been to get his extra clothes and books, perhaps the old pair of trainers he’d left. But now he couldn’t bear to part with any of it. In the wardrobe he found the old bomber jacket Sirius had bought from a second-hand shop. It smelled like leather and oil and of Lorelei, the motorbike. He slipped the jacket on; it was too big.
The books went in next and his hands shook when he picked up the book they’d first read together, aloud. It felt warm against his palms and it was the first book Sirius defaced. He’d read it a second time and written in the margins. Things like “can you believe she said this? ” and “mmm - when he kisses her it makes me think of . . . ” Then he’d given it back. It went on like that. Books filled with Sirius’ inane (and often pervy) comments that always made him smile.
He threw the book in his box. More books went in until he found his old copy of Shakespeare’s tragedies. He remembered that one well - having to explain King Lear to Sirius and phrases like “beast with two backs.” There were scribbles in this one, too, and he opened it up to Romeo and Juliet. He knew what was there as though it was written in his own brain, but he needed to see the words on the page.
By a rose of any other name? What rot. I’d change my name to Sirius Lupin if it meant I’d be yours and no one else’s.
It was a silly thing, but meant so much. Something splashed against the page and he was surprised to find himself crying. It was the first time he’d done so. His parents let him move back in, but he hadn’t talked to them. Barely a word or whisper. He didn’t talk to himself and he refused to return any of Dumbledore’s owls. That was the only tear he’d let himself cry.
Kicking off his shoes, he lay down in their old bed, the one they’d shared for over a year and a half. He pulled Sirius’ pillow to him and buried his face in it, trying to see if it held any scent of his old mate. He couldn’t decide which was worse - that he had the best night’s sleep in his old bed since November, or that he fell asleep imagining himself curled up around Sirius, as though neither of them wanted to let go.
XXXXXXX
It was August 1980 and warm outside. Remus held a Muggle cigarette between his fingers and inhaled.
“They say this stuff will kill you,” he said to Sirius who was tinkering with Lorelei, his shirt discarded somewhere in the back garden. A thin sheet of sweat covered his back and glistened in the sunlight.
“Don’t care,” said Sirius. “There, I think I finally fixed that fucking rattling noise she was making.”
“You treat her like she’s your child.”
“I’d treat Harry like my child if he’d stop sucking on Lily long enough for me to hold him.”
Remus smiled.
“Besides, it’s not like we’re ever gon’ have kids, y’know?” Remus watched Sirius swallow, his fingers still on the Muggle wrench.
“Does that bother you?”
“Mmm,” hummed Sirius. He stood and took the cigarette from Remus. “I wouldn’t want anyone to have to be a Black.”
“What about a Lupin?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
Remus tilted his head to the side to try and catch Sirius’ eye. “Hey - what’s going on? I never thought you’d . . .”
“Want kids? I don’t know, but Harry’s pretty cool for a blob, right? It didn’t bother me much until I started thinking about how I could never actually have them.”
“I don’t want to stop you from-”
Sirius shook his head. “No,” he interjected. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m not - girls don’t - I’m sure their parts are lovely, but I don’t want them. I’m feeling sorry for myself is all. I should be glad I have you. I am glad.”
“I suppose it’s rather grim, knowing when you die there’s no one there that you’ve passed anything down to. Your genes simply stop.”
Sirius laughed harshly. “Right. I can’t even pass my belongings down to you without a stupid will. Because we can’t get married.”
Remus blinked and stopped breathing. “. . . What?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Werewolf Legislation Act Number 1432,” mumbled Remus. “Werewolves can’t marry or have children.”
“I wasn’t thinking because you’re a werewolf,” said Sirius. “I don’t give a fuck what the Ministry says about that. They’ve no hold over the Muggle world. But being a man. God, never mind.”
“Don’t ‘never mind’ me.”
“The point was just that we’ve been together for three years and nothing to show for it. When I die my family will get everything ‘less I go write a will. If I could get married then everything would automatically go to my spouse. Right?”
“Well, yes, but I don’t think we’ve nothing to show for three years being together. More than three years, actually.”
“What, like this house? Like this motorbike that makes you worry like a woman every time I ride it?”
Remus didn’t answer.
“These things don’t mean anything.”
“You don’t even like ceremonies or labels. You don’t even like calling me your boyfriend.”
“Because it’s a stupid-sounding word!” cried Sirius. “It doesn’t mean anything. James is a boy friend. Peter is a boy friend - well, friend might be pushing it, he’s an annoying little weasel sometimes, but the point is-”
“Good, there’s a point? Please get to it.”
Sirius didn’t respond. He dropped the nearly finished cigarette to the ground and went inside. The door slammed with a bang.
They didn’t talk for two days. Remus wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but he knew that if he had to go to sleep without touching Sirius another night, he was going to go a bit mad. None of it made sense to him, but he had plenty of silence in which to analyze everything. On the third day, Remus came home from work late and pried a book out of Sirius’ hands. He sat down on the sofa next to him.
“I was reading that,” said Sirius.
“I’m sure you were. There’s something we need to talk about. I’m going to ask you something and I’m going to be very blunt. Ready?”
Sirius shrugged.
“Are you in one of your miserable moods because you want to get married, but you’re gay and I’m not a girl?”
“Piss off, Lupin.”
Remus reached out and grabbed hold of Sirius’ arm, keeping him from getting off the sofa. “No, I won’t piss off. I think that’s exactly what’s going on with you. The Muggle Ministry doesn’t allow men to get married. The Ministry of Magic doesn’t allow werewolves to get married. Not that you asked, or not that I asked, but we can’t. And I think - I think you want to.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Stop brooding. I can’t stand it when you’re in one of your miserable moods. It makes me miserable as well and next week is the full moon, which is already making me feel tired.”
Sirius snatched his arm out of Remus’ grasp and stood up. “It’s not fucking fair is all! I never wanted to get married, but knowing that I can’t! I can’t! Nothing keeps you here. Nothing binds us from going off with another bloke - or bird in your case, Mr. Bisexual.”
“I don’t really think that’s fair.”
“And so what if it’s been bothering me? So fucking what?”
“I keep me here!” snapped Remus, standing up. “If I wanted to cheat, I would, but I don’t.” He stood right in front of Sirius and placed his hands on his shoulders. “I promise never to do that. I’d never betray you.”
“Let go of me.”
Remus tightened his grip. “No. Do you promise never to do those things to me either?”
Sirius swallowed. “Yeah. I promise.”
“Good. Do you think my word means anything?”
“Yeah, I trust you.”
“Do you really?”
“Yeah - you want me to get a tattoo that says ‘I trust Remus’ or are you going to believe me?”
“I believe you,” answered Remus. He let go of Sirius’ shoulders and dug into his pockets. “I bought something on the way home for you.”
“Ah, I wondered why you were late. Not like you.”
Remus grasped Sirius’ present in his hand, but he wouldn’t let the other boy see. “If you think it’s hokey then just don’t wear it, but”-
XXXXXXX
He woke up with a start. Outside, a Muggle car backfired. Remus groaned and pushed away Sirius’ old pillow. He sat up and looked around their old bedroom. An owl flew in through the window which was cracked open. It landed on the bed in front of Remus.
R. J. Lupin
The Old Bedroom
24 Landon Place, London
He opened the envelope and read the letter inside. It was from Dumbledore, but unlike his other owls, this one didn’t offer condolences or apologies. This one was different and Remus read it twice.
Mr. Lupin -
It is important to remember the past, but don’t forget who you really are.
Meet me at Bath College near Bath. There’s a Floo connection in a pub called the Witch’s Brew.
I will be there at noon a week from today.
It wasn’t signed, but Remus knew the handwriting belonged to Dumbledore. Whether he’d actually go and meet him, he didn’t know. He crumpled up the parchment and tossed it across the room. It landed near a small pile of clothes, Sirius’ clothes, that needed to be cleaned. Remus looked at them, threads from the jeans sticking out from where Sirius had kneeled down so often to work on his bike, oil stains on white t-shirts, dried white marks on pants - evidence of their lovemaking.
Remus looked away and lay back down on the bed. He looked at the ceiling. When he took a breath, it felt as though he was breathing fire. Nothing had ever hurt this much. His mouth was dry as cotton and he swallowed as bile rose in the back of his throat. He had loved Sirius. They had promised never to betray one another, but that promise lay broken in the bodies of James, Lily, and Peter.
On his finger was a thick ring, silver in color, but not in quality. It had uneven designs and had a mate, another ring that was a perfect match, the uneven designs fitting together like puzzle pieces. Remus had one. Sirius had the other. It had been an impulse buy that day when Remus was late for work, walking down the streets of London, desperately trying to figure out a way to snap Sirius out of his miserable mood. It was supposed to be a gesture, but Sirius had taken it more seriously than he’d imagined. Though, that was brilliant because Remus always did have the fear that Sirius would find someone better-looking or more fit one day. Someone who didn’t become a Dark creature once a month, someone who only liked men, who could get a real job, who didn’t nag about the flying motorbike.
The rings were nothing more than rings. They didn’t come with binding spells and they weren’t enchanted. They were made from metal Muggles had dug up, but they meant something to them. It had given Remus the confidence to finally and fully relax and stop thinking of the house not as Sirius’, but as theirs.
Now, Remus pulled the ring off his finger and looked at it. It was nothing more than a sodding piece of metal. It was supposed to hold promises, a circle of them so they could never escape, never be broken. But they had and the ring meant nothing.
He left the ring on the bedside table and got up from the bed. With his wand, he cast a weightless charm on the box and picked it up. He Disapparated to his parents’ house with a loud crack and stumbled into the back garden.
As usual, he ignored them as he went inside, but his father followed him into his childhood bedroom, lecturing about getting his life together and making the right choices from now on. Choices about girls and marriage and things that Remus didn’t want to hear about. He mumbled the usual, “Okay, Dad,” several times before shoving the box under his bed and flopping down on top of his blankets.
“Now you can see what kind of person that Sirius fellow really was.”
“You don’t understand,” said Remus. “No matter what he did to James or Peter, he loved me.”
“You think that’s true? Even though he was the one who gave up your friends? They’re dead because of him.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean he ever stopped loving me. I’m sure in his twisted mind he still does,” Remus mumbled into his pillow. “You don’t have to understand.”
“Get out of the house and find a nice girl.”
“I don’t want a nice girl. I don’t want anyone. Please, just leave me be. We were together for four years. We lived together. We were going to be together forever and now he’s gone. You act like our relationship didn’t mean anything. If Mum suddenly was ripped from your life, I don’t think you’d go out for a nice frolic in the meadows. So leave me alone.”
“Your mother and I are married; it’s completely different.”
“It is not. Sirius would’ve married me had we been allowed.”
“Don’t talk like that. You couldn’t have done.”
“Of course not! Because we were the wrong genders to get married, but it’s completely besides the point. He wanted to. He might’ve worn this old leather bomber jacket sometimes and ridden on a motorbike, but he had depth. You never wanted to see that depth, but I drowned in it and I’m still trying to come up for air and I need more time for that. Just leave me alone and give me time.”
Remus’ dad left the room and died the next day. The Muggle doctor said it was a heart attack, probably from so much smoking. Remus looked at the half-smoked pack of cigarettes on his desk and put them into the box of things he’d taken from his old house. He vowed to forget them.
XXXXXXX
“I took the liberty of ordering you a brandy.”
“How did you know I would even show up?”
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. Remus took the brandy in his hands and looked down into the glass. Dumbledore knew everything; why should this be any different?
“I just got news of your father this morning.”
“It’s all right, please don’t apologize. I can’t take any more condolences or sympathy.” He put the brandy to his lips and drank.
“I feel responsible,” said Dumbledore and Remus knew he was talking about his friends and him. “I never wanted to allow someone so young into the Order. They weren’t experienced enough, but they were very lucky to escape Voldemort’s clutches three times. If I hadn’t given them those final orders they never would have had to go into hiding.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Lily made us all these bracelets with charmed stones, but that night I’d taken it off when I took a shower and forgot to put it back on. Maybe if I’d felt the stone heat up I could have gotten to Godric’s Hollow before Sirius got to Peter.”
“Hmmm,” said Dumbledore, “it was all a very strange turn of events. Not even I suspected Sirius, but you mustn’t blame yourself, Remus. Sometimes Fate does funny things to us. Would you like to know why I asked you to meet me here?”
Remus nodded and finished his brandy.
“I’ve had a meeting at the university college. With rather a lot of devious means, I’ve managed to get you accepted.”
“What?”
“It’s a teaching school. I’ve an assignment for you.”
“But You Know Who is dead.”
Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, but this is a very different matter. In a couple of years time, a young boy will enter a Muggle school. His mother is a Muggle, his father a wizard. His father has taught him Dark magic and I’m afraid he’s been using it on other children in the neighborhood. I need someone to gain the boy’s trust and try to sway him away from that kind of magic.”
“If the boy’s doing Dark magic, why is he in a Muggle school?”
“Even the Darkest wizards have a vice and I’m afraid this one’s weakness is his love for the Muggle woman. You know about that kind of love, don’t you, Remus? I would like for you to take the time to learn proper Muggle teaching methods. This will give you very good excuses for not taking your nose out of books, I assure you.”
“What’s special about this boy?”
Dumbledore raised his glass to his lips and drank. “Nothing terribly special, but I think you need some direction, Remus. A purpose, if you will. Serving cold sandwiches every day will not do.”
“All right. I’ll do it. But it’s the middle of the term, surely-”
“I’m sure that you will find it easy to slide into classes that have been in session for a month. I have faith that you’ve probably already read all the books in some of the literature classes they offer. Shall we take off and admire the campus?”
Remus nodded and stood. He offered to pay for the drinks, but Dumbledore shook his head and left some gold coins on the table. Remus wasn’t sure exactly how going to a Muggle college would do, but somehow he knew it was going to help him get his life in order and take his mind off Sirius - something that he desperately needed if he wanted to keep from going mad. His sanity was hanging on by the thinnest, barest wire, ready to break.
Sirius had taken away the lives of Peter, James, and Lily, but Remus refused to let him take away his life as well. He was going to pull through and be strong and stop loving him. He just needed the strength and he hoped Dumbledore’s plan for him worked. Only time would tell.
XXXXXXX
To Be Continued . . .
XXXXXXX
As always, links to all my fics (divided up by pairings) can be found here: Click Me
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: R
Type: multi-chap, angst, slash
Summary: Remus remembers the good times he had with Sirius, the days and nights they spent together in their house. But he must not forget to live in the present and will struggle to find out who he really is - this time alone without his mate. When he finally gets his life on track, the first love of his life makes another appearance and throws everything off balance.
Author’s Note: Fits into my The Sharing of Breath universe, but hopefully written in such a way that reading the first two stories are not necessary. Begins shortly after Sirius is sent to Azkaban and goes through the fifth book. Un'betaed so all mistakes are mine. Thanks to Maple for helping with the title!
WITH CLEANSING BREATH
XXXXXXX
PART I
XXXXXXX
It was the first day of March and he was twenty-three. He hadn’t been back to the house since November and everything was covered in thick white dust. The chair in the kitchen was still overturned from where he’d fallen, stains on the floor from where he’d spit out blood from his broken lip. There was a stench of vomit because he’d also thrown-up, but whether it was a phantom smell or real, he couldn’t tell. The Daily Prophet was there, its pages scattered, the headline still reading about the betrayal of Sirius Black.
He went to their bedroom with a box in his hand and began to gather up the things he wanted to keep. Originally, the idea had been to get his extra clothes and books, perhaps the old pair of trainers he’d left. But now he couldn’t bear to part with any of it. In the wardrobe he found the old bomber jacket Sirius had bought from a second-hand shop. It smelled like leather and oil and of Lorelei, the motorbike. He slipped the jacket on; it was too big.
The books went in next and his hands shook when he picked up the book they’d first read together, aloud. It felt warm against his palms and it was the first book Sirius defaced. He’d read it a second time and written in the margins. Things like “can you believe she said this? ” and “mmm - when he kisses her it makes me think of . . . ” Then he’d given it back. It went on like that. Books filled with Sirius’ inane (and often pervy) comments that always made him smile.
He threw the book in his box. More books went in until he found his old copy of Shakespeare’s tragedies. He remembered that one well - having to explain King Lear to Sirius and phrases like “beast with two backs.” There were scribbles in this one, too, and he opened it up to Romeo and Juliet. He knew what was there as though it was written in his own brain, but he needed to see the words on the page.
By a rose of any other name? What rot. I’d change my name to Sirius Lupin if it meant I’d be yours and no one else’s.
It was a silly thing, but meant so much. Something splashed against the page and he was surprised to find himself crying. It was the first time he’d done so. His parents let him move back in, but he hadn’t talked to them. Barely a word or whisper. He didn’t talk to himself and he refused to return any of Dumbledore’s owls. That was the only tear he’d let himself cry.
Kicking off his shoes, he lay down in their old bed, the one they’d shared for over a year and a half. He pulled Sirius’ pillow to him and buried his face in it, trying to see if it held any scent of his old mate. He couldn’t decide which was worse - that he had the best night’s sleep in his old bed since November, or that he fell asleep imagining himself curled up around Sirius, as though neither of them wanted to let go.
XXXXXXX
It was August 1980 and warm outside. Remus held a Muggle cigarette between his fingers and inhaled.
“They say this stuff will kill you,” he said to Sirius who was tinkering with Lorelei, his shirt discarded somewhere in the back garden. A thin sheet of sweat covered his back and glistened in the sunlight.
“Don’t care,” said Sirius. “There, I think I finally fixed that fucking rattling noise she was making.”
“You treat her like she’s your child.”
“I’d treat Harry like my child if he’d stop sucking on Lily long enough for me to hold him.”
Remus smiled.
“Besides, it’s not like we’re ever gon’ have kids, y’know?” Remus watched Sirius swallow, his fingers still on the Muggle wrench.
“Does that bother you?”
“Mmm,” hummed Sirius. He stood and took the cigarette from Remus. “I wouldn’t want anyone to have to be a Black.”
“What about a Lupin?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
Remus tilted his head to the side to try and catch Sirius’ eye. “Hey - what’s going on? I never thought you’d . . .”
“Want kids? I don’t know, but Harry’s pretty cool for a blob, right? It didn’t bother me much until I started thinking about how I could never actually have them.”
“I don’t want to stop you from-”
Sirius shook his head. “No,” he interjected. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m not - girls don’t - I’m sure their parts are lovely, but I don’t want them. I’m feeling sorry for myself is all. I should be glad I have you. I am glad.”
“I suppose it’s rather grim, knowing when you die there’s no one there that you’ve passed anything down to. Your genes simply stop.”
Sirius laughed harshly. “Right. I can’t even pass my belongings down to you without a stupid will. Because we can’t get married.”
Remus blinked and stopped breathing. “. . . What?”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“Werewolf Legislation Act Number 1432,” mumbled Remus. “Werewolves can’t marry or have children.”
“I wasn’t thinking because you’re a werewolf,” said Sirius. “I don’t give a fuck what the Ministry says about that. They’ve no hold over the Muggle world. But being a man. God, never mind.”
“Don’t ‘never mind’ me.”
“The point was just that we’ve been together for three years and nothing to show for it. When I die my family will get everything ‘less I go write a will. If I could get married then everything would automatically go to my spouse. Right?”
“Well, yes, but I don’t think we’ve nothing to show for three years being together. More than three years, actually.”
“What, like this house? Like this motorbike that makes you worry like a woman every time I ride it?”
Remus didn’t answer.
“These things don’t mean anything.”
“You don’t even like ceremonies or labels. You don’t even like calling me your boyfriend.”
“Because it’s a stupid-sounding word!” cried Sirius. “It doesn’t mean anything. James is a boy friend. Peter is a boy friend - well, friend might be pushing it, he’s an annoying little weasel sometimes, but the point is-”
“Good, there’s a point? Please get to it.”
Sirius didn’t respond. He dropped the nearly finished cigarette to the ground and went inside. The door slammed with a bang.
They didn’t talk for two days. Remus wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, but he knew that if he had to go to sleep without touching Sirius another night, he was going to go a bit mad. None of it made sense to him, but he had plenty of silence in which to analyze everything. On the third day, Remus came home from work late and pried a book out of Sirius’ hands. He sat down on the sofa next to him.
“I was reading that,” said Sirius.
“I’m sure you were. There’s something we need to talk about. I’m going to ask you something and I’m going to be very blunt. Ready?”
Sirius shrugged.
“Are you in one of your miserable moods because you want to get married, but you’re gay and I’m not a girl?”
“Piss off, Lupin.”
Remus reached out and grabbed hold of Sirius’ arm, keeping him from getting off the sofa. “No, I won’t piss off. I think that’s exactly what’s going on with you. The Muggle Ministry doesn’t allow men to get married. The Ministry of Magic doesn’t allow werewolves to get married. Not that you asked, or not that I asked, but we can’t. And I think - I think you want to.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Stop brooding. I can’t stand it when you’re in one of your miserable moods. It makes me miserable as well and next week is the full moon, which is already making me feel tired.”
Sirius snatched his arm out of Remus’ grasp and stood up. “It’s not fucking fair is all! I never wanted to get married, but knowing that I can’t! I can’t! Nothing keeps you here. Nothing binds us from going off with another bloke - or bird in your case, Mr. Bisexual.”
“I don’t really think that’s fair.”
“And so what if it’s been bothering me? So fucking what?”
“I keep me here!” snapped Remus, standing up. “If I wanted to cheat, I would, but I don’t.” He stood right in front of Sirius and placed his hands on his shoulders. “I promise never to do that. I’d never betray you.”
“Let go of me.”
Remus tightened his grip. “No. Do you promise never to do those things to me either?”
Sirius swallowed. “Yeah. I promise.”
“Good. Do you think my word means anything?”
“Yeah, I trust you.”
“Do you really?”
“Yeah - you want me to get a tattoo that says ‘I trust Remus’ or are you going to believe me?”
“I believe you,” answered Remus. He let go of Sirius’ shoulders and dug into his pockets. “I bought something on the way home for you.”
“Ah, I wondered why you were late. Not like you.”
Remus grasped Sirius’ present in his hand, but he wouldn’t let the other boy see. “If you think it’s hokey then just don’t wear it, but”-
XXXXXXX
He woke up with a start. Outside, a Muggle car backfired. Remus groaned and pushed away Sirius’ old pillow. He sat up and looked around their old bedroom. An owl flew in through the window which was cracked open. It landed on the bed in front of Remus.
R. J. Lupin
The Old Bedroom
24 Landon Place, London
He opened the envelope and read the letter inside. It was from Dumbledore, but unlike his other owls, this one didn’t offer condolences or apologies. This one was different and Remus read it twice.
Mr. Lupin -
It is important to remember the past, but don’t forget who you really are.
Meet me at Bath College near Bath. There’s a Floo connection in a pub called the Witch’s Brew.
I will be there at noon a week from today.
It wasn’t signed, but Remus knew the handwriting belonged to Dumbledore. Whether he’d actually go and meet him, he didn’t know. He crumpled up the parchment and tossed it across the room. It landed near a small pile of clothes, Sirius’ clothes, that needed to be cleaned. Remus looked at them, threads from the jeans sticking out from where Sirius had kneeled down so often to work on his bike, oil stains on white t-shirts, dried white marks on pants - evidence of their lovemaking.
Remus looked away and lay back down on the bed. He looked at the ceiling. When he took a breath, it felt as though he was breathing fire. Nothing had ever hurt this much. His mouth was dry as cotton and he swallowed as bile rose in the back of his throat. He had loved Sirius. They had promised never to betray one another, but that promise lay broken in the bodies of James, Lily, and Peter.
On his finger was a thick ring, silver in color, but not in quality. It had uneven designs and had a mate, another ring that was a perfect match, the uneven designs fitting together like puzzle pieces. Remus had one. Sirius had the other. It had been an impulse buy that day when Remus was late for work, walking down the streets of London, desperately trying to figure out a way to snap Sirius out of his miserable mood. It was supposed to be a gesture, but Sirius had taken it more seriously than he’d imagined. Though, that was brilliant because Remus always did have the fear that Sirius would find someone better-looking or more fit one day. Someone who didn’t become a Dark creature once a month, someone who only liked men, who could get a real job, who didn’t nag about the flying motorbike.
The rings were nothing more than rings. They didn’t come with binding spells and they weren’t enchanted. They were made from metal Muggles had dug up, but they meant something to them. It had given Remus the confidence to finally and fully relax and stop thinking of the house not as Sirius’, but as theirs.
Now, Remus pulled the ring off his finger and looked at it. It was nothing more than a sodding piece of metal. It was supposed to hold promises, a circle of them so they could never escape, never be broken. But they had and the ring meant nothing.
He left the ring on the bedside table and got up from the bed. With his wand, he cast a weightless charm on the box and picked it up. He Disapparated to his parents’ house with a loud crack and stumbled into the back garden.
As usual, he ignored them as he went inside, but his father followed him into his childhood bedroom, lecturing about getting his life together and making the right choices from now on. Choices about girls and marriage and things that Remus didn’t want to hear about. He mumbled the usual, “Okay, Dad,” several times before shoving the box under his bed and flopping down on top of his blankets.
“Now you can see what kind of person that Sirius fellow really was.”
“You don’t understand,” said Remus. “No matter what he did to James or Peter, he loved me.”
“You think that’s true? Even though he was the one who gave up your friends? They’re dead because of him.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean he ever stopped loving me. I’m sure in his twisted mind he still does,” Remus mumbled into his pillow. “You don’t have to understand.”
“Get out of the house and find a nice girl.”
“I don’t want a nice girl. I don’t want anyone. Please, just leave me be. We were together for four years. We lived together. We were going to be together forever and now he’s gone. You act like our relationship didn’t mean anything. If Mum suddenly was ripped from your life, I don’t think you’d go out for a nice frolic in the meadows. So leave me alone.”
“Your mother and I are married; it’s completely different.”
“It is not. Sirius would’ve married me had we been allowed.”
“Don’t talk like that. You couldn’t have done.”
“Of course not! Because we were the wrong genders to get married, but it’s completely besides the point. He wanted to. He might’ve worn this old leather bomber jacket sometimes and ridden on a motorbike, but he had depth. You never wanted to see that depth, but I drowned in it and I’m still trying to come up for air and I need more time for that. Just leave me alone and give me time.”
Remus’ dad left the room and died the next day. The Muggle doctor said it was a heart attack, probably from so much smoking. Remus looked at the half-smoked pack of cigarettes on his desk and put them into the box of things he’d taken from his old house. He vowed to forget them.
XXXXXXX
“I took the liberty of ordering you a brandy.”
“How did you know I would even show up?”
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. Remus took the brandy in his hands and looked down into the glass. Dumbledore knew everything; why should this be any different?
“I just got news of your father this morning.”
“It’s all right, please don’t apologize. I can’t take any more condolences or sympathy.” He put the brandy to his lips and drank.
“I feel responsible,” said Dumbledore and Remus knew he was talking about his friends and him. “I never wanted to allow someone so young into the Order. They weren’t experienced enough, but they were very lucky to escape Voldemort’s clutches three times. If I hadn’t given them those final orders they never would have had to go into hiding.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Lily made us all these bracelets with charmed stones, but that night I’d taken it off when I took a shower and forgot to put it back on. Maybe if I’d felt the stone heat up I could have gotten to Godric’s Hollow before Sirius got to Peter.”
“Hmmm,” said Dumbledore, “it was all a very strange turn of events. Not even I suspected Sirius, but you mustn’t blame yourself, Remus. Sometimes Fate does funny things to us. Would you like to know why I asked you to meet me here?”
Remus nodded and finished his brandy.
“I’ve had a meeting at the university college. With rather a lot of devious means, I’ve managed to get you accepted.”
“What?”
“It’s a teaching school. I’ve an assignment for you.”
“But You Know Who is dead.”
Dumbledore nodded. “Yes, but this is a very different matter. In a couple of years time, a young boy will enter a Muggle school. His mother is a Muggle, his father a wizard. His father has taught him Dark magic and I’m afraid he’s been using it on other children in the neighborhood. I need someone to gain the boy’s trust and try to sway him away from that kind of magic.”
“If the boy’s doing Dark magic, why is he in a Muggle school?”
“Even the Darkest wizards have a vice and I’m afraid this one’s weakness is his love for the Muggle woman. You know about that kind of love, don’t you, Remus? I would like for you to take the time to learn proper Muggle teaching methods. This will give you very good excuses for not taking your nose out of books, I assure you.”
“What’s special about this boy?”
Dumbledore raised his glass to his lips and drank. “Nothing terribly special, but I think you need some direction, Remus. A purpose, if you will. Serving cold sandwiches every day will not do.”
“All right. I’ll do it. But it’s the middle of the term, surely-”
“I’m sure that you will find it easy to slide into classes that have been in session for a month. I have faith that you’ve probably already read all the books in some of the literature classes they offer. Shall we take off and admire the campus?”
Remus nodded and stood. He offered to pay for the drinks, but Dumbledore shook his head and left some gold coins on the table. Remus wasn’t sure exactly how going to a Muggle college would do, but somehow he knew it was going to help him get his life in order and take his mind off Sirius - something that he desperately needed if he wanted to keep from going mad. His sanity was hanging on by the thinnest, barest wire, ready to break.
Sirius had taken away the lives of Peter, James, and Lily, but Remus refused to let him take away his life as well. He was going to pull through and be strong and stop loving him. He just needed the strength and he hoped Dumbledore’s plan for him worked. Only time would tell.
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To Be Continued . . .
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