***Originally posted to livejournal many a moon ago.***
"Moony…"
"Tea?"
"Moony?"
"I make a lovely cup of tea you know, I'll make us some…"
"Remus…"
"Now really Sirius you've been travelling for days, you must want something…"
"Remus."
"You've been generous enough to give me somewhere to live, at least let me make some tea…"
"Remus!"
There was a crash of ceramic on hardwood as Lupin stopped dead in his attempts to make tea the muggle way. Having so far not reacted to the gentle but sombre tone of Sirius' voice behind him, the sudden sharp tone startled him.
He stayed still, not wanting to turn around. He knew what was coming, he and Sirius were going to have to talk about it at some point, and Lupin could feel his stomach clenching in painful anticipation. His body felt tense, though the full moon was over three weeks away.
Why should they have to go back there, he wondered bitterly. He thought he lost Sirius forever over twelve years ago. Not to Azkaban, but to the other's mistrust. The day Sirius Black had told Lily and James Potter not to tell Lupin they'd changed their Secret Keeper, Lupin lost one of his best friends in the world. Two days later he lost the other three too.
He was back. In the instant Harry had shown him Peter Pettigrew was still alive, that it could only possibly mean one thing, Lupin had seen a spark of hope appear behind the anguished horror. Sirius was innocent, twelve years in Azkaban prison were his reward for unrelenting devotion to James and Lily, but he'd escaped and his first thought had been to protect his Godson.
Lupin knew it meant Azkaban had not destroyed him, not where it really mattered. More than that though, he knew he had wrongly lost faith in Sirius just as Sirius had in him. Maybe, just maybe, they could start again.
It was a fool's hope and Lupin knew it. He'd embraced his former best friend for mere moments, and Sirius had held him tight, then for the third time Pettigrew betrayed them both. He handed the Potter family to Voldemort, he framed Sirius and left him to rot in Azkaban, twelve years later there he was again, leaving Sirius to the Dementors kiss, and Lupin to whatever fate befell a werewolf conspiring with a deranged murderer.
Lupin felt ill with the overwhelming relief at knowing Sirius had escaped. He didn't care about anything else, didn't think about where they'd left off or their scarred past, he just knew the other man was alive and free and that was all that mattered. A quarter of the gaping whole in his heart twelve years old, was healed.
Having to resign from Hogwarts was almost meaningless next to it, Snape, the vindictive old git. He couldn't even find it in him to be angry, after all he knew what it felt like to feel alone and bullied. He'd felt it for all the years following the end of the first war. All of his friends were either dead or in prison for killing them, and paranoia following the end of the Dark Lord had given Anti-Lycanthrope laws a major boost.
First he'd just headed for his childhood home, a small cottage left to him by his late mother. It was something approaching uninhabitable, months if not years worth of work needed doing on it, and in a Muggle neighbourhood, that meant minimal magic only.
He smiled slightly as he thought of the scruffy looking tawny owl that had tumbled through his glassless window, landing on his transfigured bed with a bump.
"OOTP Head Quarters. Come. Stay with me."
Brief, but powerful. Lupin's chest had constricted, heart pounding against his ribcage, not trusting himself to believe. Sirius was in hiding, that was a given, but Lupin didn't care, he could hide too, there was nothing in the visible world for him after all. Maybe they could work on clearing his name. Mostly though, his heart soared at the idea of a second chance. He apparated without a second thought.
If only it could really be that simple.
"Remus, we need to talk."
Of course they did. Total betrayal and twelve years of mutual anguish was unlikely to go disappear in a matter of days. Still, Lupin didn't want to. The Shrieking Shack could hardly be said to have provided them with any joy, but he knew they'd both felt the spark of hope. As Lupin had apparated into his dust plagued living room, weary smile inviting the shaky, desperate embrace that followed, then there had been joy. Why couldn't they just start off there and not look back?
"I know." He mumbled quietly, because life is not a fairy tale, Lupin, how have you not learnt that yet?