Author's Note: I'm not usually a big fan of Songfics, but unfortunately music is my biggest muse. So I have created a kind of Songwriters series. The song that inspired this fic can be found here: www . (youtube).com(/) watch?v=M8YAzDDOCbY (remove spaces and parenthesis) and might be good to be listened to while you read the story. Remus will tell you when to press play. ;) I hope you enjoy. It's been a long while since I've posted anything, so go easy on me, and enjoy!
Chapter 1
At the first soft stirrings of music drifting through the house Sirius' head popped up. He had been sitting in the kitchen with his godson talking over the various things that happened during the past school year.
Harry stopped in the middle of his sentence at the inattention of his godfather. "Then Peeves flew in and…Sirius? What is it?" Years now of warfare had trained Harry into alertness. He sat up straight, his eyes panning over the entire room, searching for the danger, never stopping the movement of his eyes. His wand was reflexively in his hand, at the ready.
"It's the piano," Sirius whispered roughly. "Moony's tuning it. Come on! He's gonna start playing soon. So long as we stay out of the room we can listen without him noticing. Playing the piano is the only time he becomes unaware of his surroundings. Only bloody times we could ever sneak up on him. Damned werewolf nose of his." Sirius grinned, obviously not meaning it in a derogatory way as they hurried through the house. "He's a brilliant musician though. Writes tons of stuff, but he never records it or lets other people hear. As soon as he knows someone's there, he stops. Which is why it's fortunate he doesn't pay attention to what's around while he plays. Otherwise we'd never have gotten to hear some of the most amazing music ever created."
By now Harry had become accustomed to hearing his godfather always referring to past incidences in plural. Having spent over a month of the summer constantly with him, Harry now knew that there was rarely a time in Sirius' life that he wasn't with his friends. He'd also noticed, however, that Remus never spoke the same way. With him it was always a mention of who exactly he was with, if he was with anyone at all. Most often it was his descriptions of what the others did, as though he were always outside, a spectator to the on goings of his friends' lives.
Harry and Sirius slowly crept up the stairs, not to avoid Sirius' mum's portrait, as Remus had finally managed to blast it off the wall a few weeks before, though his provocation is still unknown, but rather to avoid alerting a timid werewolf of their presence. The tuning ceased just before they got up to the doorway, and a soft tune began just as they settled right outside the doorway.
Remus Lupin sat at the old grand piano, his threadbare jacket matching the dust covering the top of the piano in their testament to the trials of time. His hair, now almost brushing his shoulders and streaked with silver highlights, fell across his face. His hands were thin, fingers long as they stroked the keys with the ease of one who has played their entire life. His golden brown eyes stared only at the keys before him, and Harry could now plainly see what Sirius meant about Remus not noticing their presence. His whole body moved with his music as he let it consume him and take over. Then, suddenly, he opened his mouth and started to sing. At first it was just sort of a croon, then it turned to words.
"All my friends, now seem so thin and frail. Slinky secrets, hotter than the sun."
His voice was deep and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. He carried the tune well, his voice riddled with emotion.
"No peachy prayers. No trendy rechauffe. I'm with you, so I can't go on." While the words were sad, he didn't sound resentful, merely stating a fact.
His fingers moved quickly over the keys as his singing became more emphatic. "All my violence, raining tears upon the sheets. I'm bewildered, for we're strangers when we meet." He threw his head back a bit as he sang before leaning back down to pour that emotion into the piano.
Sirius sucked in a breath and Harry turned to him quickly, giving him a quizzical look. Sirius barely turned his head toward Harry, his eyes never leaving Remus. "It's about me."
Harry turned back, trying to adapt this new perspective to the lyrics.
"Blank screen TV, preening ourselves in the snow." Remus smiled a little and Harry could almost picture the wolf and dog cleaning their fur in a snow covered forest. "Forget my name, but I'm over you." Remus sang out the last part louder, as though convincing himself as well as the world. "Blended sunrise, and it's a dying world." His voice nearly broke on that, despair filling his voice. Sirius looked like he was about to cry. "Humming Rheingold, we scavenge up our clothes." Remus had an odd almost bitter smile on his face as he sang that.
Harry studied Sirius' face at that, now finally seeing that maybe there had been more to these two's relationship than he'd ever thought. His heart fell as he realized how much they had both lost over the years.
"All my violence, raging tears upon the sheets. I'm resentful, for we're strangers when we meet." Now it was starting to come clear to Harry. How awful must it be to have thought your lover was a murderer for twelve years, and then get him back, emotionally and psychologically damaged, and try to talk. How hard it must be for them both to try to get back to where they were with so many years of loss and betrayal between them. They really were nearly strangers now.
Remus's fingers danced along the keys as he played out a beautiful melody. It wrenched at Harry's very soul. He could feel the passion and the pain that Remus had poured into this piece.
Sirius turned around and leaned his head back against the wall, nearly breaking down as the piano crescendo-ed.
"Cold tired fingers, tapping out your memories." An apt description. "Halfway sadness, dazzled by the new." Harry thought of all the funny moments as Sirius rediscovered life, albeit confined to this dark house. "The open release, it was all that I feared. That twirling room, we trade by vendu."
"Steely resolve, is falling from me. My poor soul, all bruised passivity." Remus gave a sad smile at that. Harry couldn't help but think it was a perfect description of him though. "All your regrets, ride rough-shod over me." Sirius looked regretful at that, clearly seeing how much pain he was causing his dear friend.
"I'm so glad, that we're strangers when we meet. I'm so thankful, that we're strangers when we meet." Remus tilted his head a bit, a sad smile playing on his lips. "I'm in clover, for we're strangers when we meet. Heel head over, but we're strangers when we meet." Sirius' head snapped up at that and he stared intently at Remus as he played out the rest of the song, repeating the last line a few times. "Strangers when we meet. Strangers when we meet."
Just before the song ended, knowing Remus would come back to awareness, Sirius grabbed Harry and drug him down the hall to a nearby room, where he threw the door open and shut it behind them, closing it gently, and leaned up against it, looking shattered.
"Sirius, what?" Harry asked, "What's wrong? What does it mean? Are you okay?"
Sirius took a few shaky breaths before opening his eyes and staring at Harry, an odd glint in his eyes. Then, he grinned, looking dazed and yet hopeful. "It means there's still hope, Prongslet. He's still in love with me." Sirius's smile could have lit the room.