REVENANT
By Moony & Padfoot
Chapter One
A shiver ran across Remus' frame and he could sense rather than see Sirius smile predatorily.
Slender fingers ran their way down his side, grazing his scar as it went. With another moan he felt the silky slide of tongue follow it down, caressing the scar lovingly.
God, this is love.
Remus felt his whole body tighten. He felt hot and feverish. He twisted his fingers into Sirius' long black hair and brought him roughly back up to his mouth.
Tongues teased, tempted and twisted, loving and adoring the other.
Sirius' hands ran down his back once more, then slid their way down his jeans and cupped his backside, pulling him against Sirius where they both became aware how aroused the other was.
All of a sudden, Remus felt cold again.
"Sirius?"
Remus opened his eyes suddenly, hands reaching out to find Sirius' comforting warmth, but all he was met with was the usual cold sheets.
Memories tumbled over him, threatening to suffocate him, pull him under into their murky depths as they had been every day for the past two years.
Taking a deep shuddering breath, Remus reached for the bottle on his bedside table, swearing profusely to find it empty.
He sat up, wincing as the sunlight of the beautiful day outside made its way through the thin curtains covering his window. He tossed the empty bottle into the wastebasket nearby, hearing the clink as it met the other bottles already in there.
Remus ran a hand through his hair, forcing back the last shreds of his dream.
He made his way to the bathroom and turned the shower on full blast. He stepped under the jet only to be greeted with icy cold water. With another curse he stumbled back out again, turning off the shower and grabbing at the nearest towel.
He pulled on a tattered robe and went to the kitchen, rubbing at his hair. Then he heard a knocking at his door.
Who the hell is that?
Remus pulled open the door with every intention of turning away the unwanted visitor when he suddenly realized who it was.
"Tonks! What..."
Tonks had her arms full, two paper bags balanced precariously and she nudged the door open with a hip.
"Thought you could do with some breakfast, Re." She smiled brightly, and then actually looked at Remus. "God, man! What have you done to yourself??"
She placed the bags onto the old table and turned to scrutinize him more closely. Remus didn't really care what she thought of how he looked, though he knew it must be pretty terrible. He hadn't shaven in at least a week, he hadn't slept since who knew when, and today was the first day in about three that he had ventured into the shower.
Tonks continued to look him over for several more moments until Remus began to get annoyed.
"What do you want?" His voice was raspy. He hadn't used it in so long, and he hadn't meant to be rude. Tonks seemed not to have noticed anyway.
"I thought you might be hungry." She smiled brightly again as she began emptying the contents of the bags onto the table. There was a container of orange juice, a loaf of bread, a small bag of fresh rolls and assorted condiments to go with it.
Her hands brushed against the stack of letters that had been piled nearby and they fluttered to the floor. Most seemed to be bills.
"Oops, sorry. I'll get them." She bent and started picking them up, and Remus didn't miss the flash of concern that crossed her face.
"Re..."
Remus winced. "Don't call me that."
Tonks blushed, pulling out a chair and sitting down. Reluctantly, and out of pure habit, he sat opposite her.
"Tonks..." Remus was relieved his voice was slightly less harsh. "Why are you here?"
Tonks looked down at her hands, the nails painted a lurid purple to match her shoulder length hair.
"We're all worried, Remus."
"Worried?"
"About you!"
Remus stood back up in disgust, filling the kettle with water and tapping it with his wand.
"Remus, it's been two years...you...you should start getting out..."
Remus had heard it all before. None of them understood.
In those first few weeks he had had to force himself to do simple things like eat and breathe. Every breath had been a punishment to him. Why should he still be alive when...
"I'm fine."
He turned with two cups of tea in his hands. He placed one in front of Tonks but stood with his.
Tonks was fidgeting nervously. It only took a few minutes for her to spill her drink.
"Shit! I'm sorry."
Remus grabbed her hand before she could try to mop up the mess.
A definite blush crept to her cheeks.
Remus knew she fancied him. Had done for a while now. Once every month or so she, someone else from the Order, would come and visit him out here, in his old cottage, encouraging him to talk, trying to get him out of the place.
"Tonks...I appreciate you keeping an eye on me, I do...but I just want to be alone."
Tonks sighed, nodding slowly. "I know it will take time...but one day you will have to accept he's not coming back."
Anger flashed in Remus' eyes and he strode over to the door, opening it roughly. "You can tell Dumbledore I don't need a babysitter. Tell all of them to leave me the fuck alone!"
Tonks gulped, clearly aware she had overstepped the unspoken boundary. Muttering another apology, she turned and raced outside, Disapparating when she was only a few yards away.
Remus slammed the door shut, grabbed another bottle from his cupboard and flung himself onto the old sofa in the living room.
It only took a few sips for him to begin to relax, a few more for him to imagine Sirius standing before him once more.
A few more still and he imagined he heard the sweet whispered words of love.
He closed his eyes and drifted back into an uneasy sleep, the truth forgotten once more, at least for now.
"Come on!" Sirius yelled at the Death Eater, easily ducking the Stunning spell thrown at him. How can she be my cousin with such awful aim? "You can do better than that!"
And then she did.
The second Stunner hit him square in the chest, knocking him partially off balance.
What the -- ? Oh fuck!
He reeled backwards through the stone archway, the tattered remnants of veil brushing lightly over his face as he arched through it.
... dark ...
... cold ...
... nothing no sound no sight no nothing oh god ...
... so cold so cold it hurts oh god oh fuck it hurts ...
The intense cold lanced through his limbs, arcing them with sickening pain as the Stunning spell wore off. He closed his eyes reflexively as he flailed around helplessly in the utter blackness.
There didn't seem to be anything immediately around him – at least he hadn't yet hit anything – and when he reached down he could not tell whether beneath his feet lay wood or stone or water or nothing at all.
Where am I? Oh gods, what is this place? What spell is this?
In sheer panic, he threw his arms about wildly, eyes still clamped tightly shut, muttering incoherently under his breath.
Something skittered across the back of one hand.
With a wordless cry, he recoiled, then screamed in absolute terror as his other hand scraped painfully against cold stone.
The archway?
Sick with fright, he reached blindly forward until his outstretched fingertips touched the ragged edge of the veil. It was like touching arctic ice, the cold so fierce it burned.
Gritting his teeth and not allowing himself a spare moment to think, he threw himself forwards through the veil, through that bitter cold that swept over him for the most excruciating two seconds of his life.
And then it was over, he was through, and there was a stone floor under his feet that caused him to stumble awkwardly, and the air, oh gods, the air was so blessedly warm and –
... it's so quiet ...
He cracked one eye cautiously open.
Slowly he turned full circle, noting in a rather detached manner the dust on the stone benches, the archway behind him with the fluttering shreds of veil.
Empty.
The room was utterly empty, save for him.
Where did they go? The battle – Bellatrix – Harry – the Death Eaters – the Order – where is everyone?
There was a door on the far side of the room.
As he stood there, disbelief etched in every line of his face and wondering if somehow he'd also somehow been hit with a Confundus Charm, the door slowly opened, and a tall black man in wizard's robes edged through it. His arms were full of rolls of parchment, and he did not immediately notice Sirius standing bewildered in the middle of the room.
I know him! "Kingsley!" Sirius shouted.
The other wizard gaped at Sirius, the parchment falling every which way, his mouth hanging open in shock. He pointed a trembling finger at Sirius.
"You... you..." he began.
"Kingsley, listen," said Sirius urgently, striding towards him. "Where's the battle? Is Harry still alright? I saw Tonks fall; is she okay? Where's Remus? What's going on? Why are you staring at me like that?"
"You're... you're here?" Kingsley whispered. "You... you came back?"
Sirius stared at him. "Kingsley... I've been gone, what? Ten, fifteen minutes? Half an hour, tops. Bellatrix got me with a Stunner, of all things. Never knew she had such good aim. But never mind... There's a battle on, Kingsley. I'm trying to help!"
Kingsley shook his head. "The battle... It's over, Sirius. It's been over... for..." He snapped his mouth closed, clearly unwilling to say more.
"What?" yelled Sirius. "I missed it? I missed everything? Are you telling me I missed the whole thing?"
"Stay here!" Kingsley barked at him, stepping back towards the door. He rubbed his hands absently over his face. "Don't... don't go anywhere. I'll be right back. Have to... notify... certain parties..." He turned and rushed back through the door, leaving his rolls of parchment forgotten on the floor.
"Bloody hell," growled Sirius, sinking to the floor. "I can't believe I missed it all."
The firelight flickered on the darkened walls, highlighting the hair of the man lying on the sofa, eyes reflecting the golden flames.
Remus watched the fiery dance, his eyes occasionally glancing at the moon outside, its roundness calling him.
Only one more night...
He would almost laugh at the irony of him now looking forward to his changes if he could remember how, but that emotion, like so many others, had been buried deep inside.
As a werewolf, he could almost forget the constant pain, the constant empty ache that followed him around as a man.
Sirius...and he pushed back a sob at the name...had been his life mate. The only one he would - could, he corrected himself - ever love. They had had a bond, so deep, so strong that it was almost impossible to live without the other.
Remus had felt the sudden shoot of pain the instant Sirius had gone through that veil, but had been unable to act on it. Indeed he had been unable to accept what had happened. Only when he had returned to Grimmauld place, had fought off those wanting to speak to him and retreated to bed, could he allow himself to realize what had just transpired.
Within a few heartbeats he had begun to sob, his entire body began to ache...
It had taken the entire first year to learn to push the pain into the far recesses of his mind. Once he had controlled the pain the anger had started.
He was angry at Sirius for leaving him, angry at everyone else for living, angry at himself for not being able to save him...
Tomorrow...I can forget again, for a while...
The last time Remus and Sirius had been in this old cottage it had been summer. Sirius had been amused at Remus' habit of having the fire going, even on the hottest day.
How he would love to see it now...how the fire warms you...
Before the sob could fully form in his throat he was washing it away with his firewhisky. His eyelids drooped and he was soon asleep, a whispered name on his lips, soft as a psalm.
He woke to an insistent tapping on his window.
At first he thought it was a branch, as the wind had picked up during the night. But it grew more and more frantic until Remus finally sat up.
"Who the hell is that now?" he growled to himself, and was about to shout something loud and rude when he noticed the owl.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trying to shake the after effects of the whisky, he undid the latch and pulled the window up.
The dust-coloured owl hopped into the room and perched on the back on the sofa, waiting patiently as Remus fumbled to untie the message. As soon as he had it, the owl took off with a small hoot.
Remus recognized Dumbledore's handwriting immediately and frowned.
Dumbledore had been asking him for the past year now to come back and teach, and every single time Remus had sent a polite reply declining the offer.
He held the letter for a few moments before tossing it onto his desk. He could read it another day.
Remus ran a hand through his tousled hair, debating whether it was worth his effort to shower and dress today. Deciding against it, he lay back down on the sofa. Tonight he would get relief from the pain, if only for a few hours...
Why do I bother going on at all...
He hung his head, pondering for the millionth time just following his life mate into the void through the veil. Then he glanced up and noticed the dying embers in the hearth.
"You and me are a lot alike," he said to the fireplace. "We both began full of bright promise and are both now too tired to go on..."
Still he grabbed a log from the box nearby and tossed it onto the embers, watching as the log began to smoke then burst into flame.
"Perhaps there is hope somewhere...but I doubt it."
This is ridiculous, Sirius thought angrily. I've got to find out where everyone is! They wouldn't have just... left me... would they?
He couldn't sit still, couldn't stop pacing in tight circles. Abruptly he decided to follow Kingsley, conveniently ignoring his instructions to remain.
Racking his memory, he muttered a spell that would illuminate the path of the last person to leave a room – or so he hoped. He hadn't used it since his schooldays, but apparently it still worked as he remembered.
Ghostly blue footprints appeared right where Kingsley had been standing, motionless for a moment and then edging towards the door. Clutching his wand tightly in one hand, Sirius crept warily through the door, eyes roving wildly for any remaining Death Eaters.
I don't care what he said – there is just no way the battle could have been over this quickly.
There was no one in sight.
He hurried after the rapidly disappearing footprints as they continued out of the Department of Mysteries, through twisting corridors until Sirius recognized the main hallway of the Ministry of Magic.
Which, somehow, was completely deserted.
This is just too weird...
Where is everyone?
Ignoring the footprints which veered off down another corridor, he headed cautiously towards the lift, constantly turning in circles, wand outstretched. His nerves were impossibly taut. Something was very, very wrong here... and Sirius fully intended to find out exactly what it was.
He reached street level without incident, which unnerved him even more.
Must've gone back to Headquarters...Ducking around a corner, he quickly Disapparated back to Grimmauld Place.
This bloody house never changes, Sirius thought grimly, creeping into the house and up the gloomy stairs. He was utterly grateful for the darkness in the hallway. He heard faint sounds from the direction of the kitchen, but decided to ignore them for now.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he hurried to the room he shared with Remus, hauling the door open.
He faltered in the doorway.
A thin layer of dust lay across the furniture. The air was stale and musty, as if no one had breathed in here in a very long time. For a dizzying moment, Sirius thought he'd somehow gotten the wrong room, but no – it was as he remembered it... almost.
Two boxes were stacked by the window, both labeled with his name in Remus' careful handwriting.
He glanced out the window, noting with surprise the full moon that slipped out from behind the clouds.
No... It was just two weeks ago... I'm sure of it...Utterly confused, he headed back downstairs towards the kitchen. Obviously someone was here; he had heard voices. The kitchen door hung slightly ajar, a bright wedge of light shining through the slight opening.
He heard Dumbledore's voice first, heavy and sure, then a more muffled female voice – Tonks? – who sounded rather as if she'd been crying.
Maybe Molly had another run-in with a Boggart...
"It's awful," she sobbed. "If you'd only seen him..."
"My dear girl," said Dumbledore in it eternally reassuring manner, "he has refused my owls for some time now."
"But..." There was a loud sniffle, followed almost immediately by the unmistakable sound of a teacup crashing to the floor.
Tonks, then, thought Sirius, grinning.
"I'm so sorry!" Tonks cried. "I've been so jumpy since I saw Remus at the cottage!"
Remus? At the cottage? What? Sirius furrowed his brow, feeling more and more sure that he'd somehow been Confunded. He was getting a cramp in his knees from keeping so still behind the kitchen door, too. But we live here now... Would he have gone back for something?
He shook his head vigorously, trying to clear the cobwebs from his brain.
"How did he seem this time?" Dumbledore asked patiently as Tonks blew her nose.
She sighed heavily before answering. "Dead, that's how," she said so quietly that Sirius nearly didn't hear her at all. "I've never seen someone look so dead..."
Shocked beyond words, Sirius backed away from the door, stumbling over an umbrella stand. He ducked into the shadows as it crashed to the floor.
The kitchen door was flung open as Tonks rushed into the hall, wand at the ready. She stopped, staring around in disbelief.
"Is someone here?" she said cautiously. "Hello?"
Dumbledore appeared behind her, a small piece of parchment in his hand. "Kingsley has just owled me," he said, his voice grave. "It appears that..."
Sirius stepped out from behind the door.
Tonks screamed.
"Ah, Sirius!" Dumbledore said, smiling broadly. "I've been wondering when we'd see you again."
Sirius glared at Tonks. "You said... I heard you... Remus is dead?"
"No, you misunderstand..." she began, but it was too late. Sirius had already Disapparated.
Tonks whirled around to face Dumbledore. "We have to go after him!"
Dumbledore shook his head. "Not yet. I think you'll find Sirius to be the one thing that will bring young Mister Lupin back to life again, as it were."
The cottage, too, was utterly deserted.
Doesn't surprise me, Sirius thought grimly. "Remus?" he yelled. "I know you're here! Answer me!"
Don't be dead, don't be dead, please don't be...He tore through the few rooms, screaming Remus' name, but there was no answer.
The woods! The moon! He rushed out of the cottage, changing to his canine form halfway across the clearing, bounding into the forest. Remus had once put a heavy chain in a certain meadow to constrain himself so he could gaze at the moonlit sky on summer nights.
It was gone.
Warily he switched back to human form. Was this even the right meadow? Yes, there was the axe wedged deep into a tree stump, a pile of logs to one side waiting to be cut.
Funny, I don't remember there being rust on that axe blade...
Completely baffled, he began the slow trek back to the cottage.
Unless Tonks... unless she was right... and he really... he really is...
No! I refuse to believe that!
Sirius raced headlong through the underbrush, mindless of the branches scratching his face and arms as he raced back to the cottage.
Hurtling through the door, he began frantically searching the rooms again, calling for his lover over and over, until his voice was broken and hoarse with dry sobs.
He sank finally to his knees by the bedroom window, burying his face in his hands, weeping furiously.
Damnit, Remus... How could you leave me? A few hours ago, everything was fine... and now... How could you just leave me like this?