Summary: [SiriusRemus A chance meeting forces two men to confront their past. Many glares, much snark, and a solitary kiss ensue.

Originally posted on September 9, 2007. However, with the help of the lovely hydraspit‏ and her useful suggestions/crit I have rewritten some bits and added a little bit in other places. Big thanks :)

This fic takes place in POA, but before the Shrieking Shack scene. As always, I don't own anything, and am not making any money off this fic. Also, this is slash, so please do not leave me homophobic reviews.

The December wind nipped at Sirius more painfully than a werewolf bite. Shivering slightly, he wrapped his overcoat tighter around his skinny body, and braved the cold as he ventured down the narrow winding path leading to the lake. He had been in Azkaban so long that he had forgotten what the little things in life gave him; being within grasp of frostbite gave him a fleeting rebellious thrill. Testing limits, whether it be other's or his own, had always been an interest to Sirius Black.

He looked up. The trees had grown denser, allowing a comforting, white canopy to form overhead, shielding away the offending wind and snow. He shook his head in a dog like manner to rid his hair of the remaining flurries trapped between his tangled locks.

He was not entirely certain as to why he felt the need to venture to the lake, nor why he did not want to go under the disguise of his Animagus form. Perhaps it was an act of rejuvenation to make him feel human once again? If he visited places from his memories, he would feel like himself for the first time since Merlin knows how long?

Walking past a particularly large tree, he caught sight of a small clearing, and in that small clearing sat a man, his back turned to Sirius. He stopped in his tracks. There was something oddly familiar about the man, something he felt he should know. As quietly as he could, he crept closer in an attempt to get a look at the man, hiding behind a large batch of shrubberies.

A gasp escaped Sirius's lips. It was Remus, and he appeared to be writing an essay – or several essays by the look of the pile of parchment beside him, weighed down by a large rock.

Before Sirius could duck down to hide from the damage his gasp had done, Remus's eyes fixated themselves in Sirius's general direction. He spluttered and dropped the roll of parchment he was holding, which was unfortunate for it got caught in a light gust of wind and fluttered to a stop at the base of Sirius's shrub.

Remus clumsily got to his feet and drew withdrew his wand from his breast pocket. Shakily, he pointed it squarely at Sirius' chest. Unable to form words at the unexpected appearance of his old friend, he glared callously.

Sirius momentarily lost the ability to do anything except stare back at Remus. After several moments of a rather uncomfortable silence, he rose to his feet, and broke the barrier, very much aware that Remus' wand was still pointed at him. Choosing not to toe the line, for Remus had exceptional aim, he said, "What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the very same thing," Remus said, ice entwined within his words.

When Sirius did not answer, Remus said, "I have half a mind to contact the Ministry and report you."

"But you won't," Sirius said, his lips curving into the ghost of a long forgotten smile. "You're curious."

The corners of Remus's lips twitched and his wand lowered several inches, but he did not speak. Sirius took advantage of the silent and less threatening opportunity to hand Remus his fugitive roll of parchment, who looked taken aback, but accepted the gift without an acknowledgement of any sort.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked again.

"Marking," Remus stated gruffly and gave no further explanation.

"But it's freezing out here." To prove his point, Sirius glanced around at the surrounding trees whose branches were coated with ice and snow. Remus, however, glanced down at his feet and lowered his wand arm to his side.

"Exactly."

Sirius blinked.

Remus sighed and reluctantly turned his eyes on Sirius. "Since it is so cold, I want to go inside," he said. "However, I made a pact with myself to only return inside after I am done marking these essays. Given the nature of my personality, I will not rush and do a poor marking job in order to leave, instead I will do an exceptional job at a quicker pace than I normally would had I been sitting in the comforting walls of Hogwarts."

Sirius nodded in understanding and kept his eyes locked with Remus. "I take it you're a professor here, then?"

"Correct," he said, raising his wand at Sirius once again. "And what have you been doing these days, Sirius?" he added frigidly with a smirk Sirius had never seen before. It did not suit him and Sirius thought he appeared rather deranged. He closed his eyes for a moment to shake the image out of his head.

"I'm here to find Peter Pettigrew," Sirius retorted. "Surely you have heard of him?"

Remus's eyes widened and he shook his head in disbelief. "Peter's dead," he whispered. "You of all people should know that."

"I, of all people, should know whom I did or did not murder," Sirius said, eyes flashing dangerously, making sure his words were dripping with disdain.

"You're mad," Remus decided and, slipping slightly on fallen ice found himself pressed up against a tree. "The evidence is against you." Remus mentally cursed himself: he had dropped his wand in the stumble.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Remus." He took several steps towards Remus and Remus thought he caught a tiny glint of grief hidden in his eyes.

Before Remus could reply, Sirius pressed his lips and body roughly onto his own. He could not run, for he was trapped between Sirius and a large tree, all he could do was whimper in repugnance. By no means was it a pleasant kiss; it was forced, but contained a layer of passion hidden, lingering, beneath the struggle.

As quickly as Sirius had initiated the kiss, he had ended it. Without a word, without so much as a glance, he turned his back to Remus and disappeared in the moonlit forest. Remus fidgeted with the roll of parchment in his hand, creasing it, and gazed uncertainly into the darkness. As he bent his knees to pick up his wand, he brought a finger to his lips, tracing them as though he could feel an imprint of where Sirius's mouth had been.

"Sirius, you bastard."

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- Dana

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