DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. HP stuff belongs to J.K. Rowling and her respective companies, "Standing
Outside The Fire" belongs to Garth Brooks and his respective companies. I only own the words I chose
to use, and how I chose to use them. And I'm not even sure I own that, I think my Muse has rights
to it.
The "**" between paragraphs mean that that paragraph is the song.
Enjoy!:) (A/N at end)
**We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
And risk the tables being turned**
Sirius Black stirred as he lay in the cold dirt on the ground of a cave. He'd slept in his human
form, and now woke with regret about doing such a thing; he'd been freezing all night long having
nothing more then a ragged robe for warmth.
He sat up and stretched his neck, which made a loud and disturbing crack.
As the remnants of sleep left him, his eyes becoming clearer, focusing in on the entrance of the
cave, a blur of grey light was streaming inside it's hacked doorway and it occurred to Sirius
that it must still have been very early. The light that was coming inside was pre-dawn and he
wondered why he had been woken so early.
It wasn't unusual for slight noises or odd smells to wake him even if he had been tired.
He'd always been very aware, but now only more so since the Ministry was searching for him.
Hunting him down as though all he were was a dog, not a man. Not a human.
But whatever it was that had woken him, it was gone now along with the memory of it, he was safe
for the while and he was free.
His ears tuned into every sound, mostly that of the birds waking and beginning their high pitched
song to welcome another day.
Sirius stood and walked to the edge of the shadows in which he had been lying. He peered castiously
out the entrance to the cave and seeing nothing stepped outside into the mild chill of night that
still clung to the mist ridden air.
He'd found this cave a few days ago, and had been quite happy here since then. It wasn't exactly
what he'd been used to before, but over being trapped in Azkaban this was heaven.
He stood still for a moment, lost in thoughts and cold memories of the Wizard Prison. Emptiness
was still evident in his dark eyes, if anyone cared to look. But there was no one here to look,
and Sirius wondered sometimes if they're was ever going to be anyone who cared again. Aside from
Harry, but Sirius couldn't talk to Harry as he needed to talk to someone.
Harry had his own problems, and Sirius was supposed to advise him, protect him, not the other way
around.
Sirius broke from his thoughts and wandered over to a large rock, one of many that surrounded his
cave, and he sat down on the dew painted edge, overlooking a slight valley.
Every sound, scent, sight and texture he paid extra attention to. He'd always done that,
even before...even before everything that had happened.
Back in his school days with James and Remus and Peter, Sirius had always been the first to wake
at danger, first to hear Filch coming when they were playing some trick, he was always so aware
of what surrounded him.
They all had they're places in the group, as they all had their destinies. James, his destiny
was to marry Lily, to have Harry so that Harry could carry out his own destiny. Which was, for
the most part, yet to be seen.
Remus, his destiny was still being written, but Sirius did not doubt it would be an important one.
And that Remus would live up to it, face it, as he had so many other times in his life.
Peter...ahh yes, his destiny was nothing but pain and torture and Sirius wished him much of it.
It was his doing that James died, that Lily died, and all the misery it had caused. Sirius hoped
Peter much of what he'd given, he hoped he could take something from the misery, or was it all
as fruitless to Peter as it was to every sane wizard in the world?
And then, then there was Sirius himself. He shook his head slightly, more then willing to bet that
his destiny was to stay in this blasted cave for all his life waiting for something that wasn't
coming.
But for all that he berated himself, something he couldn't name told him he played a much
bigger role then that of Scout, of Convict, Cave Dweller.
Something told him his role was yet to be carried out, and he wouldn't carry it out unaided.
**We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That always comes with getting burned**
Remus sat on a train which bumped it's battered self down the track at a speed he couldn't name.
It was either very punctual or very insane and he wasn't sure which.
He decided not to think about it any longer, he faced his head towards the window and shut his
eyes against the clouded light that streamed in.
The compartment was empty, one of medium size, two long booth seats on either wall with a small
space of blank floor between.
He had his suitcase sitting next to him, lying locked on its side. It was nearly as battered
as Remus was, but sometimes he thought it was taking it a lot more in stride then he ever had.
It had been only about a year since he'd left his job at Hogwarts. Only a few months and it seemed
as though it had been decades. He opened his eyes slowly, sleep was alluding him and he didn't
want to try and chase it down. He was more then willing to just sit here and wait for the train
to stop.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He would never have thought that at his age he'd be
sitting on a train bound for London, wondering entirely what he'd do when he got there. He figured
he would go stay at the Three Broom Sticks, maybe wander Diagon Alley for a bit, pick a Daily
Prophet up and search the job advertisements (as he'd been doing for nearly all of the past 13 months).
It was all looking rather bleak and he wished now more then ever that James or Sirius were here.
He needed to talk to someone, anyone who gave a damn.
He looked around the compartment as though hoping he was somehow young again, that his friends
would be sitting around him and this would not be some dingy train to London, but the Hogwarts
express, shining and cheery and bound for a new year. His eyes glistened at the thought and the
smile played larger across his features, but as he looked the image faded. There was no one. And
this was not a train heading to Hogwarts, it's ripped and patched green velvet seats gave the
impression of something uncaring, hurt and bitter from too many years of use, and none of repair.
Remus looked quickly away from the seats, empty and frayed, and gazed back out of the window,
watching houses and fields pass by, trees that looked like grey blurs and the sun rising in the
background beyond a range of low hills.
He wondered where both he, and the battered train, were headed next.
**We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all**
Peter straightened from the small stone table at which he'd fallen asleep. He looked bewilderedly
around for a moment before realizing where he was. It was his Master's home, some old house that
had a family of late Muggles living in it when they'd come upon it. His Master had taken a liking
to its dark and gloomy nature, and the Muggles no longer resided here.
He sighed and laid his head back down, resting it roughly on his arms, a bright silver-metal hand
protruding from the end of one. It looked an odd contrast to the mossy stone table he lay it upon.
He had nothing to do just now, his Master had not called for him, and Peter hadn't gotten much
sleep lately. He found it very hard to sleep in the presence of the Dark Lord, he worried. Peter
spent most of his spare time doing nothing but worrying. If Voldemort chose to, he could kill him
in an instant and Peter never doubted for a moment that Voldemort wouldn't spare him if the mood
took him not to.
The only time he'd thought himself anything more then rat, servant to his Master was after James'
death had been planed. After Peter had told the Dark Lord the Potter's secret.
How could Voldemort not have rewarded him then? After he'd done such good work, been so good at it,
lost his own finger to proof Black guilty! How could he not be praised above all Death Eaters? Above
all who betrayed themselves for service with the Dark Lord. With Voldemort himself, the future ruler
of everything.
Peter shut his eyes at the sting, which had come upon them. The memory always hurt. He'd been made
nothing, he'd help bring about his Master's downfall, he'd done nothing but fail all his life and
this, to him, was just another bit of proof. Another point to make. And another nail in his coffin.
Voldemort was off speaking with his Death Eaters just now, who he had called together to decide how
best to continue now that Voldemort had risen.
Peter had been spared attending by little more then Voldemort's whim, a dangerous thing to say the least..
Peter shut his eyes, his mouth falling open as sleep took him, guiding him through nightmare after
nightmare, he heard James voice calling him 'traitor' and 'fool', Peter only grinned and stood beside
his Master.
And then he, Peter, had no hand again and was screaming, the pain was more then he could bare and
he screamed as the blood began to run down the stub of what had been his arm. God, the pain, it
burned so deeply, his eyes watered and found himself begging for his arm to be returned! What
had he done to deserve this? It hurt; it hurt inside him and tore at him.
Voldemort stared down with pitiless eyes and said nothing, he opened his mouth finally and one
long wail came out of it, horrible, hideous and pained beyond pain. Suffering, the suffering of all
those who Wormtail had betrayed and hurt under the guise of his Master's orders.
Peter awoke with a dry and throaty scream as he heard his Master return to the house. He sat up,
afraid to go find him, and more afraid not to.
He stood and left the room, holding onto the only sleep that he was likely to have for a
while and staring down at his bright silver hand, frightened by his own reflection staring back.
**Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire**
Remus stood on an unknown platform, just outside London somewhere. Wherever the train had stopped
is where he was.
He'd deboarded, carrying his tattered bag pressed to his chest as he passed people on the train,
people who looked ill and distressed. He was more then thankful to leave the train and it's long
disheartening journey behind him.
But where was he? He looked around for a sign but found only a very faded one that didn't tell
him much. It said, it white and broken lettering:
Sodding
He raised his eyebrows and with a shrug wondered off to see what he could find in the way of a hotel
for the night.
Apparently the Sodding train station wasn't actually in the town of Sodding or very near it at all.
Remus walked out of the station and found only a small and slightly overgrown dirt path in front
of him. It was late afternoon and was beginning to grow cold. He didn't much want to risk wandering
down a deserted road at night, and set off hoping only that he'd find a town before night fell.
He tugged his cloak tightly around him, blocking him from the wind, and started off down the trail.
The more Remus walked the more he noted his surroundings. It was bushy and overgrown here, not
very green with only occasional patches of grass. Mostly it was made up of dead shrubs and grey-yellow
plants that popped up at odd angles. Huge stones lined some parts of the roadside, beyond them never
ending fields or deep and threatening woods. None of which Remus was keen to spend the night in.
The fields didn't hold many trees and the woods held too many for comfort. Anything could be
hiding in its depths and Remus wasn't about to go find out what sort of things inhabited eerie roadside woods.
Instead he made his way for what seemed one of the very few landmarks around, a largish hill that
was set far into the distance. It would take him a good while to walk there, but at the very least
it was something more to aim for then another corn-coloured field.
By the time the hill was even remotely close it had grown much darker, much colder and Remus had
grown tired. He thought that maybe he could build camp between some of the large boulders that were
once again making an appearance at the side of the road. But something told him not to, something
said he should keep going.
It wasn't quite night yet, and the sun was still hanging, albeit very low, in the horizon.
So Remus decided that he'd head towards the hill and if he got there before nightfall then good,
if he didn't then he'd find someplace else to camp.
Time went by very slowly, and Remus became increasingly aware of the sound of his own footsteps
and slow repetitive breathing.
The hill didn't seem any closer, but if he squinted through the dark he could in fact make out
the features of it a bit better then he could have before. Even in the daylight.
So at least he was that much closer.
Hours seemed to pass before Remus finally found himself staring straight up at the hill, which now
loomed larger then he'd thought.
So he'd gotten here. And now what? He wondered when some voice inside him answered in a single
word; Up.
It seemed as good a direction as any, Remus gave a look around for the best way to climb the steep
slope, finding it he set off once again hoping for a good campsite at least.
He scrambled up the stony face, slipping on the rough dirt and smooth stones still wet from the apparent
rain that had fallen last night.
Last night though Remus had been asleep in a small Inn a little ways outside Dublin. He wouldn't
have known what the whether was like here, just as now he had no idea what it was like back in Dublin,
or even at Hogwarts now.
Funny, he thought, how the world brings you to all these different places, each time you go to a
new one it's as though the last didn't exist. It was real only in the way that the dreams that
wake you are. It was another life.
Remus scrambled a bit longer before reaching a sort of plateau mid-way up the hill. It was flattish,
flatter then the rest of it anyway, and seemed to lead in a semicircle around the middle of the hill.
He followed it, curious as to where it would lead, but also tired and hungry, desperate to sleep.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he reached a corner of the path, there was light. Unmistakable though
faint as it was. Someone had lit a fire.
Remus peered around the corner cautiously, and saw to his amazement that the light was emanating from
a cave in the face of the hill.
He crept closer to the mouth, careful not to make a sound and looked briefly inside. A man sat
hunched over the fire, poking at it with a twig. It reminded Remus of something you might have seen
prehistoric man do, but there was to this person an elegance and strength that was very familiar.
The man looked up suddenly and Remus moved quickly to hide his face from view. "Who's there?" The man said,
Remus at once recognizing his voice though it was tired, hoarse and quite different from the one
he'd known.
Remus peered around the corner again. "It's me Sirius. Hullo." Sirius' eyes grew wide at the sight
of Remus. "Fancy meeting you here." Black said, a thin smile spreading over his face, "I only hope
the Ministry isn't this good at tracking me down. Sit, sit old friend." Remus did so, taking a seat
on the earthy ground just across from Sirius.
"How've you been, Moony? And what the Hell brought you _here_?" Sirius asked taking his eyes from
Lupin's and resting them resolutely on the fire. "You look as though you're half on your way to being dead."
Remus smiled absently, "You always were a cheery chap." A mirthless smile threatened the edges of Sirius' face.
"It's been awhile since I had something to be cheery about." "You have your freedom now, though. Don't you?"
Black looked back up and met his friend's eyes. Remus found it painful to look into the eyes of his
comrade, once so full of life and every happiness, now so blank and drained. He wondered if his own
looked any different.
"Free? I'm living in a cave, Remus! I'm being hunted, and I'm a danger to anyone I come in contact with, if the
Ministry found out you'd seen me...I shudder to think what they'd do to get information out of you."
"But they don't know I'm here." Remus said calmly, "I'm not going to mention it, and I doubt very much you are.
And anyway," He continued, "It's worth it to know you're alright, Padfoot." Remus raised his eyebrow,
leaning forward close to the fire, his eyes never leaving his friend. "You are alright, aren't you?" He
said in a doctor sort of voice.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing!" Sirius laughed. A real laugh, something that held mirth and not
the nothingness Azkaban instilled in you.
It was good to hear.
"Me?" Remus asked pulling back from the fire. "I'm fine-I'm...fine." He said trailing off, Sirius'
laugh disappeared though a smile still clung on to his lips. "You look dead tired, Moony. And you
don't exactly look as though you've eaten in oh, say about 3 years.
"I mean, I look healthier." Remus gave his friend a questioning look, "You're quite sure about that, are you?"
"Well, alright, no. But only because they don't hand out mirrors as going away gifts in Azkaban.
Otherwise I'd know precisely how I looked." Sirius said matter-of-factly.
"Well, I'm sure if you just mention to the Dementors how you'd like mirrors, maybe a down pillow,
some cashmere blankets-" Remus began counting the items off on his fingers. "Oh, yes, I'm sure they'd
be more then willing to oblige, the horrid creatures." Sirius added looking back down into the fire.
Remus dropped his hands, he wondered if perhaps he'd gone too far, maybe this wasn't the best thing
to talk about.
Sirius had spent 12 long years in that cold place and the chill of soulless and unhappy people
still clung to him heavily. Remus thought he could almost smell it, wafting off of him in waves of nauseating truth.
Sirius had gotten that dead look in his eyes again as he looked at the small fire between them, sparking
and crackling with life.
Suddenly Sirius looked up, the emptiness in his eyes being buried again deep inside. "So tell me what
you've been doing for the past..." "Year." Lupin supplied. "Really? That long?" Sirius dragged a hand
across his face rubbing at his eyes.
"Harry would be in his fourth year then?" "Very nearly, yes. You should send word to him Sirius."
"I have been, on and off anyway. I sent one with that nasty little chirping owl, and a few others
from different locations."
"Has he written back?" Sirius shook his head slowly, "If he has, I haven't received any. But it's no wonder, really.
I move around so much and where I go is so remote. It's doubtful the owls could find me easily." Lupin smiled,
"I have faith in them, Padfoot." Sirius scoffed, "Faith. Ha. That's something that went out of fashion
years ago, faith in fellow humans, trust. It's all gone, Remus, it's not going to come back because we want it to."
The smile on Remus' face flickered but held steady, he seemed unconvinced by Sirius' speech. "I don't know,
I think that's an awful lot like saying one person can't make a difference." Sirius shrugged, "Maybe one can't."
Now Lupin's smile vanished completely and he frowned across the fire at the disheveled and worn man before him.
"You wouldn't have said that before."
Sirius looked sharply up, "Before what? Before James died or before I spent 12 years in Azkaban?
I'm sorry I've lost faith, Moony! I'm sorry I can't get over it yet like you have! I am working on
it." He sighed heavily shutting his eyes against the firelight. "God, I am starting to get over it..."
There was a moment of silence before Remus spoke again, in a quiet voice, a unreadable one. "Never, did
I say I was over James and Lily's death. Not a single day goes by that I don't-that I don't remember
that day, that I don't hate myself for being so blind! For letting you pay for something Peter did,
for letting-" His voice caught slightly in his throat, "-For letting them die."
Both men sat quiet, their faces seemed identical, as if both remembering the same thing, reliving
it before burying it away again. The only difference between them was their eyes.
Lupin's glistened into the depth of them as he stared unwavering at the fire, Sirius stared at the
dirt of the floor, his eyes emotionless and empty.
"I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't mean to say-I didn't mean to make it seem as though you didn't care.
You suffered just as much as anyone else, if not more."
"It's my fault. I haven't lost myself like that since they died. It's my fault I didn't see it
was Peter, how could I have been so blind, Sirius? How?" "You were no blinder then the rest of us.
I tell you, I never thought Peter had it in him to be so cunning. The rat, he always seemed to just follow our lead."
Sirius shook his head again, less thoughtfully and more in anger.
"And for what?" "For power, Padfoot, for power and for fear." Remus said. "Power is the same as fear. They're both one thing,
if people fear you...you have some power over them, the more they fear you, the more power you have.
He did it because he wanted to. He wanted to best us, and he did."
Silence descended on them once again, both men lost in thought and in memories. Finally it was Remus who broke the silence.
"What do you think he'd be doing now? James, I mean. If this all...hadn't taken place." Sirius grinned, "Probably much the same
as we all did back in school. Wreak 'havoc' and enjoy the aftermath." Lupin smiled, a bit twistedly.
"We'd still be having fun, hmm?" He said almost wistfully. "Playing tricks, teaching Harry the ropes."
"Do you remember the train ride, our last one to Hogwarts at the beginning of seventh year?" Sirius asked suddenly.
"Yes...why?" "I always thought James had a gut feeling as to what was coming. And that train ride has always
been the last time, to me anyway, that we were still just children. We grew up when we got to Hogwarts,
we grew up that trip. We left something on that train, Remus, I want it back."
**We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall**
James dashed aboard the train, looking much more like a first year, then a seventh. It was always the same
though, the beginning of a new year always held such utter excitement that nearly everyone involved found
it hard to contain.
Sirius followed James onto the train at a gallop, both boys taking the first empty compartment they
could find and waving desperately at their families still standing on the platform.
Moments later there was a scrambling sound of feet running past the door and then back. Just as the
train lurched forward the door sprang open and Remus stepped inside, breathing hard, Peter behind
him panting.
"Thought-you-could-lose-us-eh?" Remus said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "It's not
our fault you have trouble with the wall." Sirius said smugly as he took a window seat, directly
across from James. "Yes, well, there's just something a bit unnatural about running through a solid
metal wall." Remus answered heavily, flopping down beside James.
"I second that," James said, grinning, "But you'd think you'd be used to it by now. Seven years,
I mean, come on, Moony! Peter has an easier time then you do." Peter had taken the spare seat beside
Sirius and grinned at James' comment.
"Yeah...but every time I go through it again, there's months between when I get over it and have to start from
zip." Remus answered. James and Sirius looked at each other and shrugged. "At least we're on our way
now, no more nasty walls to walk through." "No, no, only stairs to avoid, paintings to talk to and Severus to annoy."
James added helpfully.
"Where is he anyway? Did anyone see him come on board?" Remus asked, the others only shook their heads, Sirius grinning.
"Likely he didn't want to run into me, knew I could kick his sorry excuse for bum right into next Tuesday." Sirius' voice
was smug, but his eyes were lacking, if only somewhat. "And just what are we? Hmm? Back up for the Master-Of-Bum-Kicking?" James
grinned. "I don't mind being backup, saves me the risk of actually getting hit." Peter said from his corner.
"Why don't we ever think of these things?" James said, indicating himself and the other two.
It seemed mere moments before the lunch witch came around, and they were all eating the goodies she'd sold.
James stopped mid-way through a bag of Every Flavor Bean.
"You know, I've just thought of something." The others looked up from their feasting, "This is
the last time we're ever going to take this trip. After this, we're only leaving Hogwarts...not coming back.
This is the last compartment we'll sit in, the last lunch we'll buy on the way.
"Seven years, and it doesn't seem more then one's gone by. Has it been so long already?" He paused
and looked out of the window. "Is it over so soon?"
It took a moment for an answer, which in the end Sirius provided. "It's not over, Prongs. It won't
ever be over. You'll marry Lily, we'll all get jobs, we'll still be the Four. We'll still live, even
if it won't be as Hogwarts students."
"It's just a faze." Remus said, "Seven years from now we're going to look back on this and wonder what
we we're all so worried about." He gave a listless smile that no one shared.
"Life goes on." Peter said.
"But God, it does change." James said, suddenly very interested in the world blazing past the window outside.
The last time he'd see it, moving towards school.
It was all silent for a moment, each of the Four boys exchanging looks of confusion, sadness or reassurance.
James looked down to his lap, eyes glistening and then something exploded in the compartment next door.
They all looked up, the future off their minds for now. "What was that?" Remus asked. "Oh well, it
seems I did see Severus get on the train." Sirius said looking mockingly around, "Now, where did I put that
Exploding Chocolate Bomb?"
The memory faded as it had come, quickly.
"It's been more then seven years since then." Remus said, "And I suppose it turned out poorly,
didn't it? Makes me wonder what will happen in the next seven years."
Sirius fidgeted uncomfortably. "Lets not think about that just now, hmm? Lets just concentrate on
the here and now. Not the past, not what we could have changed. Just...nothing painful." Remus gave a
very small smile. "And I was just about to recall how Severus had charged into our compartment, covered in
all that chocolate." Sirius grinned now, "He looked as though Honeydukes had tried to make some disgusting new candy out of him."
Remus laughed, "Who'd ever buy a Severus Cluster? Yech."
The rest of the evening was full of very little pain, mostly of the good memories they'd had seven
years to create. Plans for tomorrow, but no further ahead then that.
The night was cool and crisp outside, the stars shone down onto the cave in stray beams of light,
the only light to be found except that of the fire inside the cave.
The Ministry was no where to be found, the moon had several long weeks to go before it was
full, and it was, despite the odd unwelcome memory, a good night. A restful one, and one sorely
needed by both men. Destinies untold, but perhaps fate had played a part in Remus coming across
Sirius' cave. Of all the places he could have been, and of all the times to find him, it was just
when they both needed someone to talk to, neither had a direction in which to go. No map to follow
and yet Moony and Padfoot had found they were the Four again, if only in retold stories and shared
memories, which are, of course, the best kind.
A/N: So...how was it? I'd really love some reviews on this puppy, but flames scare me so..please
don't send 'em my way!;) (Even though the name of this fic is just begging for
'flames', get it, falmes? Fire? Er...)
Also, for anyone who cares I'm in the middle of writing a semi-long Draco/Hermione
fic, which has something I've not tried before. Plot.
It should be posted here within a couple weeks if I can escape my writers block. I really am
hoping to get some readers for the D/H fic cause it's taking me a while to do, and cause it actually
has a reason for being, where as some of my others exist for their own sake. So if you're interested
in it at ALL, it'll be up rather soon I hope.
Also, I, personally, would buy a Severus Cluster if only to give away as gag gifts.
Thanks, as always for taking the time to read and review!;) You guys rock.
Outside The Fire" belongs to Garth Brooks and his respective companies. I only own the words I chose
to use, and how I chose to use them. And I'm not even sure I own that, I think my Muse has rights
to it.
The "**" between paragraphs mean that that paragraph is the song.
Enjoy!:) (A/N at end)
**We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
And risk the tables being turned**
Sirius Black stirred as he lay in the cold dirt on the ground of a cave. He'd slept in his human
form, and now woke with regret about doing such a thing; he'd been freezing all night long having
nothing more then a ragged robe for warmth.
He sat up and stretched his neck, which made a loud and disturbing crack.
As the remnants of sleep left him, his eyes becoming clearer, focusing in on the entrance of the
cave, a blur of grey light was streaming inside it's hacked doorway and it occurred to Sirius
that it must still have been very early. The light that was coming inside was pre-dawn and he
wondered why he had been woken so early.
It wasn't unusual for slight noises or odd smells to wake him even if he had been tired.
He'd always been very aware, but now only more so since the Ministry was searching for him.
Hunting him down as though all he were was a dog, not a man. Not a human.
But whatever it was that had woken him, it was gone now along with the memory of it, he was safe
for the while and he was free.
His ears tuned into every sound, mostly that of the birds waking and beginning their high pitched
song to welcome another day.
Sirius stood and walked to the edge of the shadows in which he had been lying. He peered castiously
out the entrance to the cave and seeing nothing stepped outside into the mild chill of night that
still clung to the mist ridden air.
He'd found this cave a few days ago, and had been quite happy here since then. It wasn't exactly
what he'd been used to before, but over being trapped in Azkaban this was heaven.
He stood still for a moment, lost in thoughts and cold memories of the Wizard Prison. Emptiness
was still evident in his dark eyes, if anyone cared to look. But there was no one here to look,
and Sirius wondered sometimes if they're was ever going to be anyone who cared again. Aside from
Harry, but Sirius couldn't talk to Harry as he needed to talk to someone.
Harry had his own problems, and Sirius was supposed to advise him, protect him, not the other way
around.
Sirius broke from his thoughts and wandered over to a large rock, one of many that surrounded his
cave, and he sat down on the dew painted edge, overlooking a slight valley.
Every sound, scent, sight and texture he paid extra attention to. He'd always done that,
even before...even before everything that had happened.
Back in his school days with James and Remus and Peter, Sirius had always been the first to wake
at danger, first to hear Filch coming when they were playing some trick, he was always so aware
of what surrounded him.
They all had they're places in the group, as they all had their destinies. James, his destiny
was to marry Lily, to have Harry so that Harry could carry out his own destiny. Which was, for
the most part, yet to be seen.
Remus, his destiny was still being written, but Sirius did not doubt it would be an important one.
And that Remus would live up to it, face it, as he had so many other times in his life.
Peter...ahh yes, his destiny was nothing but pain and torture and Sirius wished him much of it.
It was his doing that James died, that Lily died, and all the misery it had caused. Sirius hoped
Peter much of what he'd given, he hoped he could take something from the misery, or was it all
as fruitless to Peter as it was to every sane wizard in the world?
And then, then there was Sirius himself. He shook his head slightly, more then willing to bet that
his destiny was to stay in this blasted cave for all his life waiting for something that wasn't
coming.
But for all that he berated himself, something he couldn't name told him he played a much
bigger role then that of Scout, of Convict, Cave Dweller.
Something told him his role was yet to be carried out, and he wouldn't carry it out unaided.
**We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That always comes with getting burned**
Remus sat on a train which bumped it's battered self down the track at a speed he couldn't name.
It was either very punctual or very insane and he wasn't sure which.
He decided not to think about it any longer, he faced his head towards the window and shut his
eyes against the clouded light that streamed in.
The compartment was empty, one of medium size, two long booth seats on either wall with a small
space of blank floor between.
He had his suitcase sitting next to him, lying locked on its side. It was nearly as battered
as Remus was, but sometimes he thought it was taking it a lot more in stride then he ever had.
It had been only about a year since he'd left his job at Hogwarts. Only a few months and it seemed
as though it had been decades. He opened his eyes slowly, sleep was alluding him and he didn't
want to try and chase it down. He was more then willing to just sit here and wait for the train
to stop.
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He would never have thought that at his age he'd be
sitting on a train bound for London, wondering entirely what he'd do when he got there. He figured
he would go stay at the Three Broom Sticks, maybe wander Diagon Alley for a bit, pick a Daily
Prophet up and search the job advertisements (as he'd been doing for nearly all of the past 13 months).
It was all looking rather bleak and he wished now more then ever that James or Sirius were here.
He needed to talk to someone, anyone who gave a damn.
He looked around the compartment as though hoping he was somehow young again, that his friends
would be sitting around him and this would not be some dingy train to London, but the Hogwarts
express, shining and cheery and bound for a new year. His eyes glistened at the thought and the
smile played larger across his features, but as he looked the image faded. There was no one. And
this was not a train heading to Hogwarts, it's ripped and patched green velvet seats gave the
impression of something uncaring, hurt and bitter from too many years of use, and none of repair.
Remus looked quickly away from the seats, empty and frayed, and gazed back out of the window,
watching houses and fields pass by, trees that looked like grey blurs and the sun rising in the
background beyond a range of low hills.
He wondered where both he, and the battered train, were headed next.
**We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all**
Peter straightened from the small stone table at which he'd fallen asleep. He looked bewilderedly
around for a moment before realizing where he was. It was his Master's home, some old house that
had a family of late Muggles living in it when they'd come upon it. His Master had taken a liking
to its dark and gloomy nature, and the Muggles no longer resided here.
He sighed and laid his head back down, resting it roughly on his arms, a bright silver-metal hand
protruding from the end of one. It looked an odd contrast to the mossy stone table he lay it upon.
He had nothing to do just now, his Master had not called for him, and Peter hadn't gotten much
sleep lately. He found it very hard to sleep in the presence of the Dark Lord, he worried. Peter
spent most of his spare time doing nothing but worrying. If Voldemort chose to, he could kill him
in an instant and Peter never doubted for a moment that Voldemort wouldn't spare him if the mood
took him not to.
The only time he'd thought himself anything more then rat, servant to his Master was after James'
death had been planed. After Peter had told the Dark Lord the Potter's secret.
How could Voldemort not have rewarded him then? After he'd done such good work, been so good at it,
lost his own finger to proof Black guilty! How could he not be praised above all Death Eaters? Above
all who betrayed themselves for service with the Dark Lord. With Voldemort himself, the future ruler
of everything.
Peter shut his eyes at the sting, which had come upon them. The memory always hurt. He'd been made
nothing, he'd help bring about his Master's downfall, he'd done nothing but fail all his life and
this, to him, was just another bit of proof. Another point to make. And another nail in his coffin.
Voldemort was off speaking with his Death Eaters just now, who he had called together to decide how
best to continue now that Voldemort had risen.
Peter had been spared attending by little more then Voldemort's whim, a dangerous thing to say the least..
Peter shut his eyes, his mouth falling open as sleep took him, guiding him through nightmare after
nightmare, he heard James voice calling him 'traitor' and 'fool', Peter only grinned and stood beside
his Master.
And then he, Peter, had no hand again and was screaming, the pain was more then he could bare and
he screamed as the blood began to run down the stub of what had been his arm. God, the pain, it
burned so deeply, his eyes watered and found himself begging for his arm to be returned! What
had he done to deserve this? It hurt; it hurt inside him and tore at him.
Voldemort stared down with pitiless eyes and said nothing, he opened his mouth finally and one
long wail came out of it, horrible, hideous and pained beyond pain. Suffering, the suffering of all
those who Wormtail had betrayed and hurt under the guise of his Master's orders.
Peter awoke with a dry and throaty scream as he heard his Master return to the house. He sat up,
afraid to go find him, and more afraid not to.
He stood and left the room, holding onto the only sleep that he was likely to have for a
while and staring down at his bright silver hand, frightened by his own reflection staring back.
**Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire**
Remus stood on an unknown platform, just outside London somewhere. Wherever the train had stopped
is where he was.
He'd deboarded, carrying his tattered bag pressed to his chest as he passed people on the train,
people who looked ill and distressed. He was more then thankful to leave the train and it's long
disheartening journey behind him.
But where was he? He looked around for a sign but found only a very faded one that didn't tell
him much. It said, it white and broken lettering:
Sodding
He raised his eyebrows and with a shrug wondered off to see what he could find in the way of a hotel
for the night.
Apparently the Sodding train station wasn't actually in the town of Sodding or very near it at all.
Remus walked out of the station and found only a small and slightly overgrown dirt path in front
of him. It was late afternoon and was beginning to grow cold. He didn't much want to risk wandering
down a deserted road at night, and set off hoping only that he'd find a town before night fell.
He tugged his cloak tightly around him, blocking him from the wind, and started off down the trail.
The more Remus walked the more he noted his surroundings. It was bushy and overgrown here, not
very green with only occasional patches of grass. Mostly it was made up of dead shrubs and grey-yellow
plants that popped up at odd angles. Huge stones lined some parts of the roadside, beyond them never
ending fields or deep and threatening woods. None of which Remus was keen to spend the night in.
The fields didn't hold many trees and the woods held too many for comfort. Anything could be
hiding in its depths and Remus wasn't about to go find out what sort of things inhabited eerie roadside woods.
Instead he made his way for what seemed one of the very few landmarks around, a largish hill that
was set far into the distance. It would take him a good while to walk there, but at the very least
it was something more to aim for then another corn-coloured field.
By the time the hill was even remotely close it had grown much darker, much colder and Remus had
grown tired. He thought that maybe he could build camp between some of the large boulders that were
once again making an appearance at the side of the road. But something told him not to, something
said he should keep going.
It wasn't quite night yet, and the sun was still hanging, albeit very low, in the horizon.
So Remus decided that he'd head towards the hill and if he got there before nightfall then good,
if he didn't then he'd find someplace else to camp.
Time went by very slowly, and Remus became increasingly aware of the sound of his own footsteps
and slow repetitive breathing.
The hill didn't seem any closer, but if he squinted through the dark he could in fact make out
the features of it a bit better then he could have before. Even in the daylight.
So at least he was that much closer.
Hours seemed to pass before Remus finally found himself staring straight up at the hill, which now
loomed larger then he'd thought.
So he'd gotten here. And now what? He wondered when some voice inside him answered in a single
word; Up.
It seemed as good a direction as any, Remus gave a look around for the best way to climb the steep
slope, finding it he set off once again hoping for a good campsite at least.
He scrambled up the stony face, slipping on the rough dirt and smooth stones still wet from the apparent
rain that had fallen last night.
Last night though Remus had been asleep in a small Inn a little ways outside Dublin. He wouldn't
have known what the whether was like here, just as now he had no idea what it was like back in Dublin,
or even at Hogwarts now.
Funny, he thought, how the world brings you to all these different places, each time you go to a
new one it's as though the last didn't exist. It was real only in the way that the dreams that
wake you are. It was another life.
Remus scrambled a bit longer before reaching a sort of plateau mid-way up the hill. It was flattish,
flatter then the rest of it anyway, and seemed to lead in a semicircle around the middle of the hill.
He followed it, curious as to where it would lead, but also tired and hungry, desperate to sleep.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he reached a corner of the path, there was light. Unmistakable though
faint as it was. Someone had lit a fire.
Remus peered around the corner cautiously, and saw to his amazement that the light was emanating from
a cave in the face of the hill.
He crept closer to the mouth, careful not to make a sound and looked briefly inside. A man sat
hunched over the fire, poking at it with a twig. It reminded Remus of something you might have seen
prehistoric man do, but there was to this person an elegance and strength that was very familiar.
The man looked up suddenly and Remus moved quickly to hide his face from view. "Who's there?" The man said,
Remus at once recognizing his voice though it was tired, hoarse and quite different from the one
he'd known.
Remus peered around the corner again. "It's me Sirius. Hullo." Sirius' eyes grew wide at the sight
of Remus. "Fancy meeting you here." Black said, a thin smile spreading over his face, "I only hope
the Ministry isn't this good at tracking me down. Sit, sit old friend." Remus did so, taking a seat
on the earthy ground just across from Sirius.
"How've you been, Moony? And what the Hell brought you _here_?" Sirius asked taking his eyes from
Lupin's and resting them resolutely on the fire. "You look as though you're half on your way to being dead."
Remus smiled absently, "You always were a cheery chap." A mirthless smile threatened the edges of Sirius' face.
"It's been awhile since I had something to be cheery about." "You have your freedom now, though. Don't you?"
Black looked back up and met his friend's eyes. Remus found it painful to look into the eyes of his
comrade, once so full of life and every happiness, now so blank and drained. He wondered if his own
looked any different.
"Free? I'm living in a cave, Remus! I'm being hunted, and I'm a danger to anyone I come in contact with, if the
Ministry found out you'd seen me...I shudder to think what they'd do to get information out of you."
"But they don't know I'm here." Remus said calmly, "I'm not going to mention it, and I doubt very much you are.
And anyway," He continued, "It's worth it to know you're alright, Padfoot." Remus raised his eyebrow,
leaning forward close to the fire, his eyes never leaving his friend. "You are alright, aren't you?" He
said in a doctor sort of voice.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing!" Sirius laughed. A real laugh, something that held mirth and not
the nothingness Azkaban instilled in you.
It was good to hear.
"Me?" Remus asked pulling back from the fire. "I'm fine-I'm...fine." He said trailing off, Sirius'
laugh disappeared though a smile still clung on to his lips. "You look dead tired, Moony. And you
don't exactly look as though you've eaten in oh, say about 3 years.
"I mean, I look healthier." Remus gave his friend a questioning look, "You're quite sure about that, are you?"
"Well, alright, no. But only because they don't hand out mirrors as going away gifts in Azkaban.
Otherwise I'd know precisely how I looked." Sirius said matter-of-factly.
"Well, I'm sure if you just mention to the Dementors how you'd like mirrors, maybe a down pillow,
some cashmere blankets-" Remus began counting the items off on his fingers. "Oh, yes, I'm sure they'd
be more then willing to oblige, the horrid creatures." Sirius added looking back down into the fire.
Remus dropped his hands, he wondered if perhaps he'd gone too far, maybe this wasn't the best thing
to talk about.
Sirius had spent 12 long years in that cold place and the chill of soulless and unhappy people
still clung to him heavily. Remus thought he could almost smell it, wafting off of him in waves of nauseating truth.
Sirius had gotten that dead look in his eyes again as he looked at the small fire between them, sparking
and crackling with life.
Suddenly Sirius looked up, the emptiness in his eyes being buried again deep inside. "So tell me what
you've been doing for the past..." "Year." Lupin supplied. "Really? That long?" Sirius dragged a hand
across his face rubbing at his eyes.
"Harry would be in his fourth year then?" "Very nearly, yes. You should send word to him Sirius."
"I have been, on and off anyway. I sent one with that nasty little chirping owl, and a few others
from different locations."
"Has he written back?" Sirius shook his head slowly, "If he has, I haven't received any. But it's no wonder, really.
I move around so much and where I go is so remote. It's doubtful the owls could find me easily." Lupin smiled,
"I have faith in them, Padfoot." Sirius scoffed, "Faith. Ha. That's something that went out of fashion
years ago, faith in fellow humans, trust. It's all gone, Remus, it's not going to come back because we want it to."
The smile on Remus' face flickered but held steady, he seemed unconvinced by Sirius' speech. "I don't know,
I think that's an awful lot like saying one person can't make a difference." Sirius shrugged, "Maybe one can't."
Now Lupin's smile vanished completely and he frowned across the fire at the disheveled and worn man before him.
"You wouldn't have said that before."
Sirius looked sharply up, "Before what? Before James died or before I spent 12 years in Azkaban?
I'm sorry I've lost faith, Moony! I'm sorry I can't get over it yet like you have! I am working on
it." He sighed heavily shutting his eyes against the firelight. "God, I am starting to get over it..."
There was a moment of silence before Remus spoke again, in a quiet voice, a unreadable one. "Never, did
I say I was over James and Lily's death. Not a single day goes by that I don't-that I don't remember
that day, that I don't hate myself for being so blind! For letting you pay for something Peter did,
for letting-" His voice caught slightly in his throat, "-For letting them die."
Both men sat quiet, their faces seemed identical, as if both remembering the same thing, reliving
it before burying it away again. The only difference between them was their eyes.
Lupin's glistened into the depth of them as he stared unwavering at the fire, Sirius stared at the
dirt of the floor, his eyes emotionless and empty.
"I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't mean to say-I didn't mean to make it seem as though you didn't care.
You suffered just as much as anyone else, if not more."
"It's my fault. I haven't lost myself like that since they died. It's my fault I didn't see it
was Peter, how could I have been so blind, Sirius? How?" "You were no blinder then the rest of us.
I tell you, I never thought Peter had it in him to be so cunning. The rat, he always seemed to just follow our lead."
Sirius shook his head again, less thoughtfully and more in anger.
"And for what?" "For power, Padfoot, for power and for fear." Remus said. "Power is the same as fear. They're both one thing,
if people fear you...you have some power over them, the more they fear you, the more power you have.
He did it because he wanted to. He wanted to best us, and he did."
Silence descended on them once again, both men lost in thought and in memories. Finally it was Remus who broke the silence.
"What do you think he'd be doing now? James, I mean. If this all...hadn't taken place." Sirius grinned, "Probably much the same
as we all did back in school. Wreak 'havoc' and enjoy the aftermath." Lupin smiled, a bit twistedly.
"We'd still be having fun, hmm?" He said almost wistfully. "Playing tricks, teaching Harry the ropes."
"Do you remember the train ride, our last one to Hogwarts at the beginning of seventh year?" Sirius asked suddenly.
"Yes...why?" "I always thought James had a gut feeling as to what was coming. And that train ride has always
been the last time, to me anyway, that we were still just children. We grew up when we got to Hogwarts,
we grew up that trip. We left something on that train, Remus, I want it back."
**We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall**
James dashed aboard the train, looking much more like a first year, then a seventh. It was always the same
though, the beginning of a new year always held such utter excitement that nearly everyone involved found
it hard to contain.
Sirius followed James onto the train at a gallop, both boys taking the first empty compartment they
could find and waving desperately at their families still standing on the platform.
Moments later there was a scrambling sound of feet running past the door and then back. Just as the
train lurched forward the door sprang open and Remus stepped inside, breathing hard, Peter behind
him panting.
"Thought-you-could-lose-us-eh?" Remus said, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "It's not
our fault you have trouble with the wall." Sirius said smugly as he took a window seat, directly
across from James. "Yes, well, there's just something a bit unnatural about running through a solid
metal wall." Remus answered heavily, flopping down beside James.
"I second that," James said, grinning, "But you'd think you'd be used to it by now. Seven years,
I mean, come on, Moony! Peter has an easier time then you do." Peter had taken the spare seat beside
Sirius and grinned at James' comment.
"Yeah...but every time I go through it again, there's months between when I get over it and have to start from
zip." Remus answered. James and Sirius looked at each other and shrugged. "At least we're on our way
now, no more nasty walls to walk through." "No, no, only stairs to avoid, paintings to talk to and Severus to annoy."
James added helpfully.
"Where is he anyway? Did anyone see him come on board?" Remus asked, the others only shook their heads, Sirius grinning.
"Likely he didn't want to run into me, knew I could kick his sorry excuse for bum right into next Tuesday." Sirius' voice
was smug, but his eyes were lacking, if only somewhat. "And just what are we? Hmm? Back up for the Master-Of-Bum-Kicking?" James
grinned. "I don't mind being backup, saves me the risk of actually getting hit." Peter said from his corner.
"Why don't we ever think of these things?" James said, indicating himself and the other two.
It seemed mere moments before the lunch witch came around, and they were all eating the goodies she'd sold.
James stopped mid-way through a bag of Every Flavor Bean.
"You know, I've just thought of something." The others looked up from their feasting, "This is
the last time we're ever going to take this trip. After this, we're only leaving Hogwarts...not coming back.
This is the last compartment we'll sit in, the last lunch we'll buy on the way.
"Seven years, and it doesn't seem more then one's gone by. Has it been so long already?" He paused
and looked out of the window. "Is it over so soon?"
It took a moment for an answer, which in the end Sirius provided. "It's not over, Prongs. It won't
ever be over. You'll marry Lily, we'll all get jobs, we'll still be the Four. We'll still live, even
if it won't be as Hogwarts students."
"It's just a faze." Remus said, "Seven years from now we're going to look back on this and wonder what
we we're all so worried about." He gave a listless smile that no one shared.
"Life goes on." Peter said.
"But God, it does change." James said, suddenly very interested in the world blazing past the window outside.
The last time he'd see it, moving towards school.
It was all silent for a moment, each of the Four boys exchanging looks of confusion, sadness or reassurance.
James looked down to his lap, eyes glistening and then something exploded in the compartment next door.
They all looked up, the future off their minds for now. "What was that?" Remus asked. "Oh well, it
seems I did see Severus get on the train." Sirius said looking mockingly around, "Now, where did I put that
Exploding Chocolate Bomb?"
The memory faded as it had come, quickly.
"It's been more then seven years since then." Remus said, "And I suppose it turned out poorly,
didn't it? Makes me wonder what will happen in the next seven years."
Sirius fidgeted uncomfortably. "Lets not think about that just now, hmm? Lets just concentrate on
the here and now. Not the past, not what we could have changed. Just...nothing painful." Remus gave a
very small smile. "And I was just about to recall how Severus had charged into our compartment, covered in
all that chocolate." Sirius grinned now, "He looked as though Honeydukes had tried to make some disgusting new candy out of him."
Remus laughed, "Who'd ever buy a Severus Cluster? Yech."
The rest of the evening was full of very little pain, mostly of the good memories they'd had seven
years to create. Plans for tomorrow, but no further ahead then that.
The night was cool and crisp outside, the stars shone down onto the cave in stray beams of light,
the only light to be found except that of the fire inside the cave.
The Ministry was no where to be found, the moon had several long weeks to go before it was
full, and it was, despite the odd unwelcome memory, a good night. A restful one, and one sorely
needed by both men. Destinies untold, but perhaps fate had played a part in Remus coming across
Sirius' cave. Of all the places he could have been, and of all the times to find him, it was just
when they both needed someone to talk to, neither had a direction in which to go. No map to follow
and yet Moony and Padfoot had found they were the Four again, if only in retold stories and shared
memories, which are, of course, the best kind.
A/N: So...how was it? I'd really love some reviews on this puppy, but flames scare me so..please
don't send 'em my way!;) (Even though the name of this fic is just begging for
'flames', get it, falmes? Fire? Er...)
Also, for anyone who cares I'm in the middle of writing a semi-long Draco/Hermione
fic, which has something I've not tried before. Plot.
It should be posted here within a couple weeks if I can escape my writers block. I really am
hoping to get some readers for the D/H fic cause it's taking me a while to do, and cause it actually
has a reason for being, where as some of my others exist for their own sake. So if you're interested
in it at ALL, it'll be up rather soon I hope.
Also, I, personally, would buy a Severus Cluster if only to give away as gag gifts.
Thanks, as always for taking the time to read and review!;) You guys rock.