"Lie low. Stay out of trouble. Don't do anything rash. Don't be stupid."
A dark shadow stalked down the winding country lanes. The sun was setting, and the breeze was starting to turn to a chill. The overpowering scent of summer evenings hung in the air, and the pollen was almost choking. Birds were singing in the far-distance, and the trees seemed to be toying with his hearing, remaining silent for an eternity, before making him start as they rustled gently. In battle and surveillance, having the sharper senses of a dog was a useful asset. In rural Somerset, they were nothing more than an annoyance.
He had reached his destination. The small cottage stood small and unobtrusively in front of him. The curtains were neat and tidy, the front well kept, and the garden blooming. It was your typical country cottage, completely unremarkable. If anything, it seemed timid and frail. The house itself seemed to be retreating into the ivy covering its front, as though wishing to remain hidden from anything that could disturb its peace and tranquillity. Yet to Sirius, it seemed like an impregnable fortress. The ivy may as well have been barbed wire, and the oak tree by the crooked gate a proud and fierce sentinel, armed with arrows and spears rather than simply acorns.
Since everywhere around the house was so deserted, Sirius felt it was safe to return to his true form. He felt his limbs lengthen as he transformed, his face retreating and returning to more human features. He felt he could breathe again, no longer troubled by his super-sensitivity. Of course, with the human form came human feelings. The doubt and paranoia. The guilt, at exactly how badly he had affected the person inside this house's life. The nervousness and fear at what would happen when he raised a hand and knocked on the door.
Would he shout and scream, or would he simply give him a resigned look and a cup of tea? Sirius knew that the man had manners, and prized them above all else. He'd had to, Sirius supposed. Manners and routine were all you had to fall back on, when your world came crashing down and there was no one else to pick up the pieces.
Only one way to find out… Sirius raised a hand and banged loudly on the door. His heart in his throat, he counted how long it would take the man to reach the door.
One…Two…Three…Four…Five… Six…Seven…Eight…Nine…Ten…
He knew from experience that if Remus took a long time, it meant he was straightening cushions on his sofa, and putting papers away in a drawer. Remus taking a long time to answer the door meant it was a stranger. Tidying the house before opening the door meant that Remus was uncomfortable showing his faults, felt he had to put on a show. It was strange, he thought, how much you could tell from something so small.
Eleven…Twelve…Thirteen…Fourteen…Fifteen…Sixteen…Seventeen…Eighteen…Nineteen…Twenty
The sounds of footsteps on the stairs made Sirius jump again. Remus always took his time to walk down the stairs, making sure he stepped on each one in turn. Sirius had used to tease him about it, calling him old before his time. Remus had just ignored him, and continued walking down every step, while Sirius pulled faces at him and jumped the bottom six.
Twenty-one…Twenty-two…Twenty-three…Twenty-four…Twenty- five…Twenty-six…Twenty-seven…Twenty-eight…Twenty-nine…
He heard the scrape of a key in the lock, and a heavy clank as the bolt turned. Then he heard the slight jangling as the keys were hung back on the wall. On the small silver hook that Remus had insisted on installing one summer, when Sirius had lost his keys for the thirtieth time. If you hang them back on the hook, Sirius, you'll always know where they are. Well, that's what Remus had claimed.
Thirty…
The door was yanked open, quickly as though Remus was afraid he might change his mind halfway through and slam it. Sirius's first impression was that Remus was old now. His once brown hair had grown longer, and the flecks of grey that Sirius had once insisted made Remus look more distinguished, were now liberal streaks. Even his face seemed grey and tired, as though simply walking to the door were too much of a struggle to bother with.
The silence hung in the air, but it wasn't a lazy, restful silence like that Sirius had become accustomed to on his long journey from Hogwarts. It was tense, as though each was afraid to speak, out of either sheer embarrassment, or shock.
"Honey, I'm home" Sirius attempted a light-hearted, jocular tone, but as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth, he felt them fall flat.
"This isn't a home, Sirius" Remus sighed, turning on his heels, leaving Sirius trailing in his wake. "It's a house. Just bricks and mortar. Nothing more, nothing less."