The Moon Shines Tonight 1/?
The house was abandoned, its windows busted all along the first floor. The maple tree beside it clung its overgrown branches to the walls as though it would fall without its support. The interior was dark, lonely without a resident. The hill it stood upon rose over the village like a towering giant, giving the house an imperial feeling – one that most felt it did not deserve.
But it was abandoned, and that was all that mattered.
He grabbed the nearest stick he could find, hefting it in his right hand, glancing over the rough bark and smoothing his hand over it. With only that moment's hesitation, he thrust the stick through the glass paneling of the front door, shattering it. The glass flew over the hard flooring, the stick clattering behind it. Tentatively, he reached a hand through the door and turned the lock on the other side. The door swung open easily, disappointing his tuned ears. They had expected a typical haunted-house squeak.
Looking around at his new surroundings, he found them meager but satisfying. The roof appeared sturdy, there was an easy chair set cozily near the fireplace, and it offered protection from the gales of wind sweeping up the hill. Anything was better than a tarp supported by sticks.
Lazily dropping his cloak to the dusty floor, he sat himself in the easy chair, sinking into its cushions. How long had it been since he felt something other than the earth beneath him?
It was then that he realized he was still clutching his battered suitcase. He pulled it into his lap, staring at the lettering along the edge. He lifted a weary finger to the peeling letters, tracing them ever-so-lightly. His name.
Letting out a quiet sigh, he clicked it upon, and began taking out the contents. To a normal viewer, it would appear odd that this man could pull an entire lamp out from the tiny case. Yet he did, setting it beside the chair. He also grasped a lightweight stick, holding it firmly in his right hand. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally out of view of the villagers. The light from his wand would not give away his presence. He muttered quietly, waving the wand towards the fireplace, which erupted into a burst of flames, instantaneously warming the draft room. He glanced up at the lamp.
"Lumos!"
He hissed into the darkness, the wand whizzing by the lamp. It burst with light, almost stinging his eyes as he adjusted to the brilliance of it. He smiled to himself, content at last. The suitcase found its way to the floor as he let his head lean back upon the cushion of the chair, his eyelids drooping steadily. It was not long before he found solace in the safety of sleep."Remus? Remus, you dead?"
Lupin stirred slightly in his sleep, vaguely aware that there was a voice calling his name, yet he refused to acknowledge it.
"Remus Lupin! Get up before I have to call your mother!"
He snorted. What mother? Only Sirius Black could make such an inconsiderate, crude remark to him…
He sighed. That's right. Only Sirius Black. He opened his eyes and sat up. "All right, how'd you find me?"
Sirius stood before him, the fire behind his back dying into soft embers. He shrugged, and glanced at the lamp beside Remus's chair. "I don't know. Hearing about abandoned houses suddenly lighting up in the middle of the night tend to make one quite skeptic."
Remus turned his gaze to the lamp beside him, and he cringed. He'd been so careful not to use his wand because of the tell-tale light, and then he'd been stupid enough to light up a lamp? How much worse could this night possibly get?
Sirius defiantly folded his arms over his chest, and gazed down at Remus. "So bad times have fallen upon you, old friend."
"As they have for you, I suspect."
Sirius grinned darkly. "Oh, Azkaban? I would hardly call those hard times."
"Wouldn't you, though?"
"Oh, no. More like grueling, painful, please-let-me-die-now times." A smirk graced his sunken face, and Remus couldn't help but smile at the sight of the expression on his old friend's face.
"Yes, then I would suppose you could say that hard times have fallen upon me. Or more like I have fallen upon them."
Sirius tilted his head inquisitively. "Not that it's any of my business, but do tell."
Remus sighed, tearing his gaze away from his friend. "I can't Sirius. I simply can't, at this point." He looked tentatively at the taller man, expecting him to be upset with the remark. But Sirius merely shrugged, looking away.
"All right then. Whenever you decide you can."
Grateful for his friend's acceptance of the matter, Remus rose to his feet, vainly attempting to straighten his robes. "I'll conjure you some breakfast, Sirius. Sit down, if you like."
Sirius obeyed, dropping himself into the seat Remus had vacated. Instantly, his eyes began drooping and he was forced to use his fist to keep his chin propped up. "Did you bewitch this thing to make you fall asleep, Remus?"
Remus's lips twitched into a smile. "No. I guess it's just that comfortable."
"Mm. Anything's more comfortable than tree roots jabbing into your back."
With a nod of agreement, Remus turned back to the fire, summoning a boiling pot from his opened suitcase. He hovered it over the fire, and used a spell to conjure water into the pot. Sirius watched disinterestedly, his eyes slowly unfocusing.
"Remus?"
"Hmm?"
"You don't think they'll catch me, do you?" the darker man asked quietly.
"No, Sirius, I don't."
Sirius accepted this, and closed his eyes, the heat from the fire warming his tired body. His lips parted slightly, another question begging to be purged. "Remus?" he asked again, more tentatively this time.
"Yes?" Remus poured a soup mix into the now-boiling water.
"You don't think they'll catch Harry, do you?"
Remus's steady hand faltered slightly, a bit of the soup mix drizzling into the fire. He had been asking himself that very question for quite a time, now. But how to answer Sirius? He tossed a careless glance over at the other man, catching sight for once of how very old Azkaban seemed to have turned him. He sighed inwardly, knowing that this possibility was not guaranteed, yet still put Harry into mortal danger. He wished he knew a better answer. Seeing Sirius draped upon the easy chair, he couldn't bare to tell what he knew to be the truth. He shrugged slightly, hoping to give an air of nonchalance. "That I cannot answer."
Sirius nodded slightly, his eyelids heavier by the moment. He seemed to accept the answer, but made no sound as he let himself fall into a dreamless sleep.