~*~Proof~*~
by Hatter of Madness
"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock.
It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch.
Remus saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his friend's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place...
"We can still reach him—" Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go…
"There's nothing you can do, Harry…nothing…he's gone."
A multitude of different emotions wracked Remus's mind as he watched Sirius fall through the veil, the realization that he was never coming back. Anger. Fear. Guilt. Definitely sadness. And...heartbreak.
He puttered around his room, not really wanting to do much of anything. There was nothing he could do to fill the void. Sirius's last laugh and last words still etched in his mind, every night he tossed and turned, struggled through nightmares and woke up screaming, punching his pillow and ripping the wallpaper to shreds, the ghost of Sirius's last laugh still playing behind his closed eyes.
"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"
"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"
"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"
"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"
Adults older than either of them always said that Sirius and James were the best of friends, that you would never see one without the other. There was scarcely a moment that they were separated; after all, they were the master pranksters, so they were always together. Had they gone to school with them, they would have given Fred and George a run for their money. It only made sense that teachers always linked them together as an infamous pair; even Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks had them pegged as best friends.
But what the teachers weren't aware of was what was going on behind closed doors, when the public eye was not on them. Even Harry, who knew Sirius and Remus better than most did, and as someone twenty years younger than them, no less, did not know the true nature of the Marauders' glory days at Hogwarts.
Sirius and James were the best of friends, yes. But everything was not as it seemed at Hogwarts. There were only two people outside of the foursome who even knew that Sirius and James were not the perfect two that everyone thought. One had reached out his hand and offered advice to the two youngsters. The other had turned the other cheek—or more correctly, his nose—and pretended that it didn't exist. Such nonsense should not exist in the purest of wizarding families—not in the Black bloodline.
The two that were truly the best of friends was Remus and Sirius, and the two that knew were Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape.
Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixed at Black. The Professor walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.
Brothers.
That was how everyone saw the fabulous four, didn't they? They were like brothers, the way that they spent every possible second together. The four of them were, well, inseparable. Anyone could see it, the way they acted around one another.
Everyone was sure that Sirius and James were the best of friends. The masterminds that they were, it would make perfect sense. But the truth was something Remus had been trying to hide for years. What would someone think if the truth got out? He was already a reject by society for being a monster, what with his 'time of the month', or 'moon blood', as James had so humorously called it back in their glory days.
But what was the rest of the world to think if they knew that not only was he a monster, but also in love with another man?
Lupin's eyes were fixed on Sirius. "Personally," said Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last… His voice broke. He turned away. "Enough of this," said Lupin…
"Together?" he said quietly.
"I think so," said Lupin.
They had been fairly innocent at first, as all relationships seemed to start. They had met after being sorted into Gryffindor house, spent time together in class, in the dorms, during free times… But something was just not right in their relationship.
They got along fairly decently with both James and Peter. Especially Sirius with James. After all, hadn't he gotten teachers convinced that they were best of mates? But away from the public eye, it was Remus that Sirius was really close with. Closer than the bond of brothers, even.
At eleven, they tried to brush off the blushes and the butterflies, the shyness that erupted when they were alone with one another. Something about the other just made them uncomfortable, that was all. Didn't everybody have that friend, the friend that they obviously cared for but being around them made them nervous?
It was hard to deny it at fifteen, however. Four years was long enough for those feelings to go away when you're in close proximity of someone for a long period of time. But when Gryffindor won the first Quidditch match of the year, in the heat of the moment, Sirius, looking quite like a madman, grabbed the front of Remus's robes, took the fragile (almost broken) boy into a broom closet, and the two noisily confessed their true feelings. There was quite a number of brushes of the lips.
Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance that James's could never have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn't seem to have noticed. And two seats along from this girl was Remus Lupin.
Girls were always throwing themselves at Sirius, the handsome, Pureblood wizard who was friends with the well known Chaser, James Potter. Remus liked to stay out of the spotlight; thus, his interaction with others, especially with other genders, was minimal. After all, Remus was not nearly as ruggedly handsome as Sirius was. No one would look twice at him with the scars that covered his face and body.
Nobody knew that these came from the full moon, his 'time of the month'. But then, nobody cared to find out why they were there. Even James and Peter ignored their presence. James said that the scars made him look 'like a tough guy', whereas Peter usually turned away upon noticing their exposure. But Sirius was different.
After their run in following the Quidditch match, when Sirius had Remus pinned against a wall and they had become almost intoxicated with their feelings, Sirius had seen some of Remus's scars—not even from those nights—and kissed them, making Remus shudder with every brush of skin on skin. Sirius could not feel the goosebumps that arose every time he touched Remus's skin, or the way that Remus gave small little quivers when they made contact.
That was then, though. That was twenty-one years earlier. Sirius had spent thirteen years in Azkaban, and Remus had spent thirteen years of isolation, and they had been getting to know one another again.
Remus Lupin…was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.
"He can't come back, Harry," said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. "He can't come back, because he's d—"
…the deflected curses flying past them did not matter, nothing mattered except that Lupin should stop pretending that Sirius—who was standing feet from them behind that old curtain—was not going to emerge at any moment, shaking back his dark hair and eager to re-enter the battle.
Lupin's face was pale…
Lupin turned away from the archway as he spoke. It sounded as though every word was causing him pain.
Coming out of his thoughts but being pulled back into them with the thoughts of his dream, Remus stepped out of his bedroom at Grimauld Place and down the hall to what was once Sirius's room. He had no right to be in the house, he knew; he had to move away. But he could not bear to pull himself away from the home that had once housed someone so very near and dear to him.
Sirius had never meant to cause Remus any pain. Quite the contrary; Sirius always liked to see a smile on the otherwise introverted werewolf's face. He liked to pull him out of his shell, and make him laugh and happy, because Remus was a sick, dark person. Nobody knew the truth; nobody knew that the truth about Remus was that he was a dark, broken man, and the only thing that could repair him was Sirius. And now, that was gone.
How was it fair that when they were finally falling in love all over again, fate ripped them apart forever…all over again?
Remus came into the room, puttering around and cursing silently when his foot hit something sharp under the bed. Bending down and muttering, "For Merlin's sake…" he reached under Sirius's unkempt bed, grabbing onto…a cardboard box.
He frowned, blowing dust off of it. Written in scrawling letters was the word 'Hogwarts'. And upon opening the box, to both his delight and horror, Remus found that the box was filled with nothing but him. There was a picture of them in Hogsmeade one day during their six year, when the wind was blowing something horrible and Sirius had forgotten his gloves, so they walked together, with Sirius's hand shoved in Remus's pocket (which was already occupied by Remus's hand). The picture had been taken by Peter—the bastard—before things had so suddenly changed, with Voldemort and James and Lily hiding and them being torn apart by fate, the inescapable demon.
And there was the drawing that they had made during History of Magic in their fifth year—which Remus knew that they should not have made, what with their O.W.L. exams approaching so rapidly—of Snivellus, which was extremely crude and that Sirius was set on giving to its subject (Remus objected; he had felt extreme guilt for just drawing the stupid thing in the first place).
There was a single flower at the bottom of the box, too, that Remus picked up delicately. It seemed very fragile, old and withered as it was; he was afraid just touching it would cause it to die. There must have been some sort of enchantment on it, because if the title on the box was correct, then it was at least twenty years old. Looking at it made Remus remember what it was: They had been madly in love at the time (as though that was out of the norm), and had a free hour after their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. When Peter and James had taken off to do some stupid thing—Remus was sure that it had 'Snivellus' written all over it, despite the fact that Peter tried to avoid their pranks—Remus and Sirius sat together, trying to look as innocent as possible in case someone saw them. Sirius had teased Remus that he had forgotten their one year, two and a half month anniversary, so he plucked the plant and gave it to Sirius as a gift.
Sirius repaid him later the same way as always: Pressed up against each in the tight corners of the Quidditch closet, with James and Peter standing guard.
But at the bottom was an old piece of parchment that Remus had never seen before. He picked it up, holding it as delicately as he had held the flower between his fingertips, noticing several ink splotches on the page. They looked oddly like teardrops. He read the letter quickly (that was obviously what it was), his frown growing deeper and deeper until finally, he threw the parchment aside, sitting on the floor and pulling his knees close to his chest, bowing his head and resting his eyes on his hands, sobbing.
Moony,
I just…can't go on like this. We've been friends now for four years. Four years is a long time to be like this, you know. I trust you more than you even know, but I have not been completely honest with you, because I…just can't.
I don't…there's something wrong with me, Moony. I just…I have never paid any attention to girls and James and Peter tease me about it because they think I'm probably good looking to girls or something, I don't know. But I just don't care about them. I don't mean that in the way that that sounds, I mean that because, well, I…I think that there's…something not right about me.
I think that I may love men the way…that I'm supposed to love women. Mother would murder me if she knew, and I don't mean that lightly, I seriously think that she would…harm me if she knew. I'm trusting you with this because being around you makes me…aware of this feeling, that something just is not right, in my head, or in my heart. I just…I love you, Moony, I really do, and I just know that this is something I have to keep hidden because I know that people are certain that this is some sort of disease, feeling this way. There is something not right about this.
And I know people would look at you like…an outcast, or a freak or something, if they knew. I mean, you're so strong, Moony, and they just don't know it. They don't know what happens every month to you and how it hurts me, because I can't be there and I can't help you, and I can't tell you that you're strong and brave and everything. I mean…the sorting hat was right, because you're so brave to go through that every month. You're just…you're perfect, and everyone tells me that James and I seem like best friends but we're really not, because I just…can't shake these feelings about you, and I've never gotten them about him, or Peter, or anyone, only you.
I'm just so…scared of losing what we have, because I love you so much and I think I'd feel…empty without you. I just love everything about you and I know we're only fourteen, so what is love, even? But I know that you are something so amazing and I have never felt so…complete with something before. And I'm trembling right now, and I'm so scared, because what if you think that I'm…weird, or that this is wrong? Or what if I worded this completely wrong and now you'll never speak to me again, because all you'll ever think about is how I think about…you?
Sirius
Remus rocked back and forth, hugging his knees to his chest. This was an odd position for a grown man to be in, especially in his late friend's room at one in the morning, but this way, his mind was cleared and all thoughts stopped.
But the truth was, thoughts had not completely stopped, because he could still hear the haunting voice of Sirius being scared in his mind (and that was not something he was ever accustomed to). He had a legitimate fear expressed in his words, and Remus could imagine fourteen-year-old Sirius sobbing and writing this letter, hoping that everything would be okay and that he was normal. He could practically hear the uncertainty in the words, his use of ellipses suggesting that something was bothering him.
Sirius loved him; he had expressed that through his writing. And no matter what happened, he would love Sirius Black, more than words would say. Outsiders would think what they may, but no one would ever understand the deep affection he felt for the man, and how empty he felt now that he was so positively…gone.
When he finally fell asleep again, after tossing and turning for what seemed like hours or even years, the sweet face that had alluded him so long came back to him once again.
Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here…
He moved on, and now he reached the edge of the forest, and he stopped.
They were neither ghost nor truly flesh… Less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts… And on each face, there was the same loving smile.
Sirius was tall and handsome, and younger by far than…in life. He loped with an easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.
Lupin was younger too, and much less shabby, and his hair was thicker and darker. He looked happy to be back in this familiar place, scene of so many adolescent wanderings.
"Does it hurt?"
"Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."
Okay um what I had meant for this to be is completely LOST. None of this is what I was originally intending. None. At. All. I don't know where the title came from, but to me, it just seemed to fit. I'm not sure if you picked up on my hints about Remus or not, but if you are unsure I can PM you the details. I actually originally wrote this as a way of getting feedback for something entirely unrelated to this u_u I was just wondering: Have any of you seen those OTP pendants? I'm going to make one for Wolfstar, but I'm wondering what you think should be on it: One of my fanfictions or actual canon stuff. So anyway, this was…weird. I don't know. Tell me if you like it? Please review? BTW IT'S TWO A.M. YAY.
- Hatter of Madness
