Title: Aftermath (pt 1)

Genre: fanfic (Harry Potter)

Setting: post-PoA, pre GoF

Rating: pretty darn G unless you don't like very vague Remus x Sirius innuendo, in which case I'd give it a PG, tops.

Notes: Harry Potter and co. are owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and perhaps other people, none of whom is me. I'm just having fun, so please don't sue me!

He stood in front of the little wooden gate, the slightly overgrown garden stretching weedy vines out toward where he'd put down his tattered suitcase so that he could reach into his pocket and take out the note one more time. In the late afternoon twilight the thatched roof of the cottage turned deep yellow and orange, and the windows had a cheery look to them, enough to make the tiny cottage seem like an incredibly comforting mansion rather than the dilapidated shack he had expected. Once again Dumbledore had outdone himself.

He read the note again.

Remus --
Please find enclosed your severance pay and directions to a charming little place I think you'll enjoy. Mind you don't irritate the third step from the bottom -- it has a rather nasty cold just now and has been known to eat socks. The garden should behave itself and hasn't maimed anyone in years.
Albus Dumbledore

He smiled a little, then took a deep breath and stepped through the gate. The weeds rustled in the wind, and he had the disturbing impression that the rhododendron bush was staring at him. Walking as quickly as he could while still maintaining some semblance of dignity, he went up the path to the doorstep and, taking the key from his other pocket, opened the door and let himself in.

It was small and rather dark, an open living room and kitchen with a flight of stairs presumably leading to the bedroom. It obviously hadn't been lived in lately, as the whole place was covered in dust, but a good cleaning charm would do the trick, and he could tell that before long it would be a nice place to have all to himself…

…except for the lump of black fur which had sprawled itself on the floor beside the fireplace.

Remus set down his scant luggage noisily. "I wasn't aware that the house came with a pet," he said in the lump's general direction.

It looked up with a shaggy head and erect ears, gazing at Remus intently. A little whine came from the back of its throat, and it got carefully to its feet and trotted over to sit in front of him, gazing up at him with huge, curiously blue eyes. It even wagged its tail for good measure.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Don't even try it. Where's Buckbeak?"

The dog motioned with its head to the back door, which Remus noted had been nearly broken in two. The floor around it was covered in mud. Through the window across the way he could see a hippogriff napping in a petunia patch. Remus rubbed his tired eyes.

Heading back to the entryway, he found a closet which contained a single, rather shabby mop. This he took and threw at the dog's feet.

"Right then, get to it." Remus took off his cloak and turned around to find the dog staring piteously at him. He made a noble effort not to laugh, with mixed results. "That's not going to work, Padfoot. Move it."

The dog whined shortly and held up one massive paw.

"You're not an invalid, you know," Remus said sternly. "You -- " He stopped and looked at the proffered paw. "You're bleeding." The dog looked as smug as it is possible for an injured canine to look.

Remus sighed and threw his cloak over the dog. "Change back so I can look at it," he said, heading for the kitchen to rummage around for bandages. He heard a pop as he rifled through the drawers, and when he turned around a very disheveled Sirius Black was wrapped in Remus' cloak and protectively holding his left arm, which had a nasty-looking gash running from elbow to wrist.

"Bloody bird breath has it in for me," said Sirius in a very sulky tone.

"Don't suppose you bothered to feed him in the last two weeks?" said Remus, unearthing a package of bandages from beneath an enormous pile of rubber bands.

Sirius sniffed. "Am I his mum?"

"No, you're his lunch unless you find him something better on a regular basis." Remus found a relatively clean-looking rag and, after waiting for the water from the faucet to turn a normal color, wet it and turned back to his friend. "Arm," he commanded.

Sirius held out his wounded arm warily, then let out a loud yelp and a string of curses when the rag touched the wound.

"Good to know you didn't forget everything in Azkaban," said Remus cheerfully, sitting down at the kitchen table and ignoring Sirius' dirty look. He slid the bandages across the table and waited for Sirius to apply one. "Now then…I'd offer you tea but your only options would be dust- or rubber band-flavored, although maybe we could find a rat or two…."

"Second cupboard to the left of the stove," Sirius said, an odd glint in his eyes. Remus found he remembered that glint; it meant do and ask questions later, provided one really wanted to know, and one generally didn't. Eying Sirius warily, Remus stood up once more and went to the cupboards. Sure enough, in the second cupboard to the left of the stove, there was a small olive green tin with a very posh label explaining that the contents were of the tea leaf variety.

"House-warming gift," said Sirius, sounding very pleased with himself.

"Sirius," said Remus slowly, "you haven't got any money."

Sirius shrugged. "Yeah, I nicked it from a shop in Hogsmeade. That's the brand you like, right? Would've gotten the bigger one but I didn't think I could dismantle the anti-theft hex without a wand. Smaller one was easy to get out, though. They really ought to hire a better warding team."

Remus set the tin down on the counter and took a deep breath. "Sirius. You're on the run from dementors, wanted for murder, and on your way out of town you decided it was a good idea to stop by Tuppence Twopenny's Tea Salon and nick a tin of their most expensive brand?"

Sirius grinned, a disturbingly aged shadow of his former self . "Sure, Moony; had to make up for not being able to stay long this time. Anyway I know how you are about tea."

Remus tried to ignore the slightly queasy feeling in his stomach which was probably in no way a reaction to hearing his former nickname spoken after twelve years by someone he'd come to accept as dead to him. Now was not the time for queasiness; it was the time for rigorous scolding, which Remus would have engaged in immediately if Sirius hadn't taken that moment to let out an enormous yawn which probably shook the very foundations of the little house.

Remus couldn't quite hide an exasperated smile. "The tea can wait. Why don't you go upstairs and rest?"

Sirius waved a hand and stifled another yawn. "Nah, I can take the couch down here. You take the bedroom; it's your house, after all."

"Kind of you to notice," said Remus dryly, but Sirius had already bounded out of the room. When Remus followed a moment later, he found Sirius already sprawled out on the couch in the living room, still wrapped in Remus' cloak. He hadn't bothered to take the dust cover off of the couch and was lying on top of it, making a big show of snoring loudly.

Remus rolled his eyes. "At least let me find you something to wear first."

Without opening his eyes, Sirius snorted. "Unless you've gained at least three inches in the past twelve years, the pants will be too short, and the shirt will probably be that obnoxious dung color you seem to like so much. No thanks."

"It's tan," said Remus, head in the hallway closet as he looked for something to transfigure into a pillow and blanket. "And what are you going to do, wander about in the nude?"

Sirius opened his eyes long enough to glance at Remus and waggle his eyebrows suggestively. "Would you like that, Moony?"

A pillow, a blanket, and a pile of clothing hit him in the face, muffling his subsequent exclamation. Satisfied with his handiwork, Remus picked up his tattered suitcase and headed for the stairs.

He'd gotten only one foot up before Sirius' voice trailed after him. "Remus." The tone was completely different than their earlier bantering; it was tired, careful, painful. Hearing it, Remus had to remind himself to breathe.

"Later, Sirius," he said quietly. "Sleep now."

Sirius' voice came again, distorted through the pillow. "Yes, Mum."

Remus shook his head and went upstairs.