Disclaimer: You know the drill. Sing along. These characters are whose? (J.K. Rowling's!) And am I claming them as my own? (No!) And who is the best writer on Earth? (::silence::) ::Pointed look:: Fine fine! But the plot's mine, characters and all Harry Potter related things are hers.
Home
By
Padfootwolfboy
Sirius Black had arrived at Remus Lupin's house very late a few nights ago. Remus had been very happy to see him, enveloping in a hug right away, and welcoming him into his house. They had had a nice dinner and a good conversation about the old days. All in all, Sirius felt quite content with staying there for a very long time, but something in the back of his mind tweaked him.
Remus acted very friendly to him, offering him more food than he thought it possible for a hippo to eat, letting him talk when he wanted, fixing up a nice, warm spot on the couch for him to sleep. Yet he and Remus were always more than that. The actions were comforting, but they lacked the real, intense feelings he and Remus had always shared. What was wrong with them? Was it he? Or was it Remus?
Sirius pondered over this thought for a while until Remus interrupted him as he was sitting on the couch, sipping a warm cup of tea.
"Here," Remus sighed, tossing him a bundle of brown, folded papers, bound with a fraying piece of twine. He crossed the room and took a place in the chair across from Sirius by the fire.
"What's this?" Sirius chuckled, eyes sparkling with intrigue.
"Call it a gift," he answered solemnly. His features very serious, causing his companion to study him inquisitively for a moment. "Open them!" Remus had to insist finally.
Sirius did so, untying the frail piece of twine. It practically fell off the papers. They were letters, he realized. Twelve is all. They looked like they were written at various times, some having some unusual stains on them. One even had blood on it! With a reassuring look from Remus he opened the first one and looked at the date on top. It was dated just after he'd been sent to Azkaban. He looked over the letter curiously and then read it.
Dear Sirius,
I hate the world… and I hate you. I hate you most of all. You went and ruined everything. You went and ruin James and Lily and Peter and I. You also ruined yourself. And I hate you for it. You who had everything—you who had life—why did you go and throw that away? How am I supposed to believe them, Sirius? Tell me how they're supposed to make me believe that you worked for Voldemort. Tell my how they're supposed to make me believe that all we shared as friends was a lie. Was it a lie? I don't know anymore. I don't know anything anymore. I thought my world crashed down when I heard of Lily and James's deaths, but that wasn't all true. No, I know it wasn't because when I learned of you and Peter, then my world died. Everything died. How am I supposed to forget? How am I supposed to go on? I've lost everything, and it's because of you. You lost everything and it's because of you. And that's why I hate you! Not because of me, but because of you! I can't bare the thought of you sitting alone, and cold in those cells. I can't bare the image of your face when I saw you at the Ministry. But the real reason I hate you, my dearest Padfoot, is because I loved you more than anything and now you're gone. Will you die, Sirius? Will I die? I think I am dead.
Dead, but not enough,
Remus.
Sirius couldn't bring himself to look at Remus, so he went on and read the next letter. It had a picture of him and an article relaying his capture stapled to it.
Darling Padfoot,
Well, it's been a week since your capture. How prison holding up for you? I assume it's all very boring there, with nothing to do all day except relive all your most horrid memories. God know it is for me. In case you don't the newspaper in Azkaban, I'm not sure if you do, they had a very nice picture of you on the front page. It was that picture James took of you after your birthday party last spring. Your hair is pulled back and you have that killer smile of yours illuminating the entire page. I stapled the article and picture onto the back of the letter. I thought maybe you could hang it in your cell, decorate the place a touch. I mean they did just issue your sentencing and I'm sorry to tell you, Pads, but that looks like your home for you next few lives.
Got fired at work today. Full moon is coming up in a few days. Dumbledore said I could use the Shack if I wanted. I declined. To many bad memories.
Ever yours,
Moony.
He swallowed hard and turned back to read the next letter. It was bloodstains splattered on it, causing Sirius to wonder the state of his friend's mind as the un-mailed letters to him progressed.
Mr. Black-
I think I died. All I have to go on is the pain. It hurts. It hurts to hold the quill in my hand. It hurts to try to think—to move. My blood is all over the place. I'm in the basement. The one we spent are first night in. Do you remember? I really did a number on myself this time, Siri. I broke the chains. I ripped them straight off the wall. The wall went down too. Then the rafters. Then the ceiling. I think the whole house is going to fall apart. I think I'm going to die here—in the rubble, quill in hand, writing my last words to you. Poetic, no? Ironic too. You've killed me, just like you did Peter, James, and Lily. Proud of yourself? I am. You're a real son of a bitch, Black. But I love you. I'll always love you, Sirius Black. In this life and the next.
Goodbye. (Maybe I'll be seeing you soon),
Remus Lupin.
The next one was dated a good few months afterwards.
Sirius,
It's been a long while since I wrote to you. Did you think I died? Maybe I did a bit. Maybe the Remus you knew and loved is gone, or maybe he never existed in the first place. Did you love me, Sirius? I can't remember anymore. All the memories of us and school and life before then have begun to run together. I can't determine one from the other anymore.
Your beloved (or wasn't I?),
Remus.
Sirius felt the muscles in his heart tighten as he read that one. He felt so awful for Remus and began to worry what had happen in his Moony's life while he had been in prison. Remus was alone. How did he deal with everything? Quickly he unfolded the next one to read. It was dated the date of his birthday. There were tear stains on it.
Padfoot-
Did you think it was all a joke, Siri? Is that what life is—one big joke? Is it one big prank being played on us by Marauders we can't see? I'm so scared. I have no more money. I haven't had a job since my last one, and that was six months ago! Could you wire me some? You won't be using it any time soon, and it's just collecting dust and cobwebs in that damnable sized Black family vault of yours. Don't worry about me though. I'll fine work. I'll manage. I always did.
The pain is lessening, Pads. It's just a numbness now inside. I wake up each day and your face has faded from the back of my mind. I go and cook breakfast and I don't hear your voice quite as loudly as I used to. I see the picture of all us right after Graduation—the one Lily took that sits on the shelf in my hallway—and I don't break down crying and hyperventilating. I think it's going away, Siri. I think you're finally going away ever so slightly.
Happy Birthday (by the way),
Moony.
The next few letters was just as depressing, and even more unsettling.
My dearest Sirius,
Are you insane yet? Happy Anniversary. You've been locked up with the key thrown away for one entire year. Do the Dementors celebrate? Do they let you remember a not-as-painful memory in honor of it?
I went to visit Lily and James's graves today. It's more just a memorial plaque they plastered down, but I thought I should go for a small visit anyway. I told them about Harry, and how he was doing. He was sent to live with Petunia, Lily's sister, and her husband if you didn't know. I stopped by their house as well today. Never got up the courage to knock on the door. What would I have said? "Hi, I'm Remus Lupin, a friend of Harry's parents who were killed by our other friend—Sirius Black. I'd just thought I'd check up on the little guy. Can I come in for tea?" You met Petunia once I think. Could you imagine the look on her face? No, I just contented myself with standing on the corner for a good half an hour. I might be going just a bit insane myself, come to think of it.
Sanity is over rated,
Remus.
Sirius,
Insane yet? I know I am. I went and found all the pictures I had stored away of us, you and me. Any picture—and I took it out and put it in a big pile on the floor. I started to cut out us and I did that to every picture until it was nothing but two mounds—one of scraps of old backgrounds, and then the moving images of us. Did you know that even if you cut them, they don't loose their magic? I put of the scraps into a bad and put it in a corner then I took us and hung them on strings from the ceiling.
Do you like it?
Remus.
Dear, dear, dear S. Black-
Has insanity struck you by now? You've been there almost three years. I would assume it should have by now. Or were so insane when you went in there that it had the opposite effect? Or do dogs just not go insane?
Dumbledore came over today. He said he was worried about me. I don't think he appreciated my "Sirius collage". He seemed to think that I made it because I was insane. I laughed at him and told him it was quite the opposite. Now when I see your face all the time, Pads, it's real and because of the pictures, not because I see your face everywhere I go in anyone and everything. Albus is now making me see a psychiatrist. A Doctor Sirius Black. I didn't know you had a medical degree, Sirius.
Clinically insane for ever yours,
R. Lupin.
This one was short… and disturbing.
Black-
You are a horrid doctor. You are making me quit writing my letters to you. How dare you. I hate you.
Love,
Lupin.
The next letter was dated many years after the first nine. It shocked Sirius.
Dear Sirius,
I haven't written to you in many years now. My last letter was right before my breakdown. I stayed in St. Mungo's for a good year and a half. Albus came a visited me regularly. It was nice there. I kept to myself mostly, though. You know me—I don't make friends easily.
It's been eight years now, Sirius. Harry is nine. Can you believe it? He'll be getting his letter in about two years. I've never doubted that James Potter's son would be accepted into Hogwarts. Oh my. Eight years. Does it feel different after that long? Do you get used to it? I have accustomed to it to some extent. Even when I was in the hospital I never went one day without thinking of you—of us. Do you think of us too? Is it painful, or have the Dementors sucked up all those happy memories we shared together?
I wrote you this letter for that reason, Sirius. I can't stay and reflect upon those memories anymore. I can't do it. I've wasted away so many years of life already thinking of you. I need to move on. It will be difficult, I know. We shared so much together when we were younger, but we're not young anymore, Sirius. We've—I've—grown up. I'm 30. Thirty years old! What have I done with my life, Padfoot? I've spent so far falling in love with you, and then mourning for you like you died. But you didn't die, Pads, and I've never fallen out of love with you. I can't find a new mate so late in my life, but I can stop wasting my time wishing that you would come back to me. It's too painful to do anymore.
So, I'm sorry, Sirius. In a previous letter I swore to you that I would always love you. Well, I will, but it can no longer be a soul possessing love like it once was. I am sorry for that, Padfoot. Once we once shared has to stay in the past now. I have come far enough now that I can say that. Yes, it's painful. And yes, it's sad. Because no matter what anyone says, Sirius, you were a good friend, and a good lover. But now I must say goodbye to all that. I must look at it and smile and remember, but then put it in my trunk and go on.
I will always love you with all my heart, Sirius Black.
Yours truly,
Remus Lupin.
He read the eleventh letter, wishing for some better clarity and perhaps a happy ending. He hated to thing that Remus still walked around in his presence of mind he was when he wrote the last ten letters.
Padfoot-
You've escaped! The Ministry phoned (yes, phoned. I've taken up residence in a Muggle neighborhood) me early this morning! I just about fell out of bed. They decided to put your picture up all around, even in Muggle papers! So for a second time in your life (excluding that small incident in the school paper in our third year) you're face is plastered all over the news and your name is part of the biggest gossip in town. You sure know how to keep your fame alive don't you?
Where've you gone, Siri? Will you come to me? Are you going after Harry?
And guess what! There's more! As soon as I got done talking to the Ministry, an owl from Dumbledore popped up at my window. You remember our old headmaster, don't you? Well, just get a load of this… He offered me a job—teaching! Can't you just fancy it? Me—a teacher! I've always wanted to work with kids. So here I am, Remus Lupin, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Just a twidge ironic, isn't it? I'm going to be teaching kids how to avoid evil beast like myself. Ha ha. I love it.
Just a little word of advice, Padfoot—if you do go after Harry, you'll also be coming after me. I swear I will protect him, even if it is form you—his godfather. I still am jealous that James picked you to be Harry's godfather.
Professor-ly,
Prof. Moony.
The last letter was the newest of them all, and had only been written two years ago. Sirius saw the first words written to him and hurriedly read on to ingest the rest of the letter.
Darling, darling, DARLING Sirius!
You're innocent! I don't believe it! It felt so good to see you, to hear you call me "Moony" once more. But you're so thin, Sirius, and so... well, ragged. Your beautiful raven hair is tangled and long, and unclean. And you're deep, soothing bluish-gray eyes are sunken in and black. Your once muscular body, strong and brawny, is bony and emaciated. I know you will hate me for saying so, but you look worse than Snape! He is not so bad, by the way. Age has seemed to make him wiser… but just as disagreeable, if not more.
Dumbledore told me basically what happened after the wolf in me had retreated, and then I resigned. I loved the job, but the school knows now and I can't face possibly putting the students in peril. I was stupid to actually think that could have been avoided.
But no. No! I will not focus on the negatives. You are, well, if not free, at least not in prison any more. Will you come to me now, Padfoot? Will you come and stay with me and let me care for you? I know it will not be the same, with James gone and Pettigrew being all evil, but we can still have a good time. I know I swore so many things in my letters to you over the years. I still have all of them with me. I would almost mail them, if I knew where you were. But I am scared of that.
I am worried for the future, my dearest, darling Sirius. I take back all I said about getting over you. I never did! Not for one day did I stop thinking of you or loving you or wishing that I could turn around and there you'd be. My wish almost came true that night. I saw you in my room, Padfoot. I saw you watching me with those big droopy dog eyes of yours, staring at me so intently. It was once upon a time that Padfoot showed less emotion than Sirius, but now it is the other way around. As Sirius—the man—you are tired and drained of much. I can see your love for Harry and all consuming hatred of Pettigrew, but I did not see any room for feeling for me down in the Shack the other night. No, I saw those when you came to me that night, before all was revealed about you.
I still would have taken you, Sirius. I would have let you into my bed and into my arms once again right there. My love for you transcends all hate I could possibly feel over the deaths of our friends. Does that make me insane—that I would love someone that much? Maybe it does on some level, but I don't care.
You're innocent! That's all that matters. That and the fact I saw it, Sirius, it's still in there. You're still in there. The old Sirius, the one who used to bring me tea in bed and read the paper with me on Sunday mornings, the one who used to drag Prongs and I down to the Three Broomsticks after work and was suave enough to get the entire pub to join in a sing along, with you in the lead. I still saw him in there, deep inside—just waiting. He's waiting for the right moment to come back to life, waiting for the right moment to jump up and flash that brilliant smile and laugh with me and tell me you're home, safe and sound. And I saw something else in there, Sirius. Sirius, I saw what we once had—what we still could have. I know you're scared and lonely and bruised inside. I know that, because I felt it too, but that love is stronger than it all. All the pain we've felt these past twelve years can be heeled by that love, Pads. Just let it out. Come to me, and I will help you. I love you more than anything, Sirius Black! I have always loved you! I will always love you, and I know deep down you still love me!
Always yours and ever waiting,
Remus.
Sirius placed the letter down on his lap. He shut his eyes tightly to hold back to emotion. It felt so weird to have emotions, that he couldn't tell if it was painful or not. Drops of tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes. He opened them again and saw Remus staring at him. Fear glistened in his eyes. He wasn't sure how Sirius would react.
He motioned for Remus to sit down on the couch with him. Reluctantly, Remus slid over so the he was sitting of the edge of the arm. The fire illuminated his delicate features. Sirius sighed, as Remus continued to stare into the flames.
"You always did have strange tastes in gifts," Sirius began lightly.
Remus slowly turned his head to look down at him. There was that dazzling grin that he loved splitting Sirius's pretty face. He felt one mirror slowly on his own. "You… you…" he stuttered quietly.
"Yes, it's me," Sirius chuckled.
He paused, wrapping an arm around Remus's his and pulled him unto his lap. Remus began to protest but Sirius soon silenced him by placing his lips on top of Remus's. They both fell into a gentle kiss. When Sirius pulled away, both of them had tear drenched cheeks.
"I love you too, Remus Lupin," Sirius sighed, pulling Remus closer into his chest. "For now and for always."
Remus snuggled himself against Sirius. The act felt so good and so right and so perfect, he almost began to cry again at the beauty of it all.
"You're Home, Padfoot," he chimed through a shaking voice.
"I'm Home, Moony," chorused the other. "Finally… I'm home with you."
A/N: Icky, lovely Siri and Remus fluff. A little angst-y and depressing, but I think the endings pretty happy. I was almost tempted to put that they lived happily ever after. I think I will.
And they lived happily forever after in each other's arms…
Please R&R!!! Thanks!