Thunder - 11/50 for the OTP Bootcamp Challenge

The storm roared wildly around Remus, who pulled his cloak tighter in response to the bone-chilling wind. Even worse than the cold was the rain, which fell with such force that each drop seemed to rip at his face and steal what little humanity he could still attribute to himself.

He glimpsed a soft light, finally, just over the hill and hidden in a small smattering of trees. It was a safe house, one he remembered from the first war, when they had all been so young…

He pushed the thought from his head, for it was one that usually came accompanied by pangs of regret, loneliness, and failure.

He was familiar with the landscape, though some things had changed in thirteen years.

For one, the house's occupants were different.

That time, Sirius sat in the hut that Remus was slowly approaching. Though the memories pushed at him with as much force as the booming of the thunder, threatening to deter him, he continued fiercely. His visit was long overdue.

It had been months.

Remus raised his left hand carefully and knocked twice on the heavy door. His right wand held his wand tightly; he had been in too many dangerous situations to underestimate the value of constant vigilance.

"Who's there?"

"It's me—" Remus started, somewhat foolishly. They were no longer schoolboys at Hogwarts. This was far from their dormitory in Gryffindor. Since then, it seemed a lifetime had gone by. "It's Remus."

A pause. A moment that stretched out long enough for Remus to feel the distance between them, though they were physically closer than they had been in a long time.

Then, cautiously, Sirius spoke. His voice was low. "How many pets did Peter have in sixth year?"

"Four," Remus said quickly, "because he kept forgetting to feed them."

He surprised himself with the confidence he held in his answer. He could only wonder how Sirius had a question like that immediately ready.

Perhaps it's because he's been anticipating your visit for months, mocked a voice in his head. He ignored it, though the guilt refused to recede.

"May I enter?" Remus spoke carefully, though he was practically yelling over the wind and noise.

There was no verbal response, but the door opened to reveal Sirius holding a wand that was simply too long for him and looked out of place in his grip. He looked awkward, and Remus was once again struck with the image of them as lanky teenagers.

"Whose wand is that?" Remus asked, still hovering just outside the little house. It definitely wasn't Sirius', even if his memory betrayed him by refusing to recall what Sirius' wand had looked like all that time ago.

"Don't start." Sirius sounded weary, and his eyes reflected the sentiment. "This was all I could get. I… I needed something."

It hit Remus suddenly. "Safety. Yes, I understand."

Sirius had spent so many years locked up and defenceless. Of course it made sense that he would find something, even a wand that might not work for him, to give him some of that independence back.

"May I?" Remus prompted again, because the chill was sinking into his bones and biting into his blood, which seemed to circulate with little confidence. He could hardly feel his extremities. He was wind-burnt and drenched.

"Yeah." Sirius waited for just a moment too long before moving so that it didn't seem natural anymore. Remus wondered just how unwelcome he was. Then, Sirius seemed to relax minutely. "Of course you can, Moony. Of course you can."

Once inside, Remus found himself taking off his cloak with discomfort stiffening every movement. "So," he said, avoiding eye contact, "how long has it been?"

Sirius froze, just beside him, and Remus tried not to hate himself for beginning with something so aggressive. Especially when it was really his fault.

"It's been too long," he answered himself, finally making eye contact as his second boot thudded to the floor. "Far too long, and I'm truly sorry."

"Where have you been?" Sirius asked coldly. However, assuming Remus hadn't lost his knack for reading his friends, Sirius had softened in the face of the apology.

"I had some.. problems with the Ministry after what happened back at Hogwarts. I've been on the run for some time. It's been so hard to find a job, and then they started actively prosecuting me." Remus said. "Dumbledore might finally talk to the Minister—"

Remus noted that Sirius had bristled once more, and any warmth in his voice was gone when he next spoke. "You know that isn't what I meant. Sorry, why exactly did you come today? I don't appreciate you rubbing your freedom in my face. That's not why I asked you here."

Remus winced, and at exactly the same moment, the little foyer was lit up by the bright burn of lightning. It illuminated everything, painting Sirius in bright relief. He was far too tired, and the fatigue relaxed his muscles and pulled his shoulders down, creating the image of a man far older than Sirius.

He closed the door quickly, but it did not shut out the thunder that followed.

"I've missed you," Remus said truthfully. That much, at least, was simple. He tried to avoid tripping over his words. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be caught up in myself when you are the one in need of companionship. Loneliness isn't easy, I know."

"I can barely believe it's been so long," Sirius whispered, and Remus knew he wasn't just talking about the months that had passed since their last encounter. "Thirteen years. You… you look so different."

Sirius stared at him thirstily in such a way that heat rose to the back of Remus' neck. He tried not to feel attacked by the gaze and held his ground.

"You look different, too," Remus said, though his eyes were not focused on anything but the hollowness that he found in his friend's eyes.

"You're bigger," Sirius said, as though he hadn't heard Remus at all. "You're more powerful. Look at me—I'm weak and broken. What do I even have to show for the last decade and a half?"

Remus shook his head, wanting to comfort his friend but unable to allow himself to touch Sirius. He couldn't be the one to break that barrier.

"You have incredible strength," he breathed, stepping as close as his uncertain legs would allow him. "You have survived and escaped what no one has before."

Sirius looked unconvinced and, surprisingly, was the first to bow his head away from their visual connection. Remus took a moment to whisper a quick warming charm, because his teeth were beginning to chatter and he could barely contain his shivering.

"Why haven't you visited me?" Sirius asked again, tone flat, though this time the question was directed at the floor.

Remus was stuck. "I…I was on the run."

"You could have come here. You promised you'd come here."

There was a deep longing in Sirius' voice, and it resonated perfectly with the emotions Remus had been struggling with for years. He'd had a hard time accepting his status as the only remaining Marauder. Eventually, he had learned to live with the horror, nightmares, and isolation.

What he had never come to terms with was the reality that he had been friends with a murderer.

Thirteen years, he had believed it, and then his reality had once again been shaken around and muddled.

Through all that, he had felt a desire for things to go back to the way they'd been. He had never stopped missing his friends, even five years after their deaths, even ten years after trying to wrap his head around Sirius' betrayal.

Remus vowed, internally, to never allow either of them to feel so alone again. It was true that his life was littered with mistakes, but he would not make one that would cost him Sirius. Not again.

Feeling guilty and even more self-absorbed, Remus answered the question.

"I couldn't see you like this," Remus said, voice trembling. "I couldn't allow myself to forget who we used to be. Seeing you at Hogwarts was fantastic, but perhaps only because I didn't have enough time to recognize all that's changed. I can't—We're not—This isn't how it was meant to go. This meeting seemed, to me, to be a confession - a confirmation - of all the bad stuff that happened."

They stood in silence once more, though the rain was relentless and violent just outside the door. The world was out there, holding danger and lies, but it could all be forgotten by Remus Lupin for a few short moments when he saw Sirius' shoulders shake.

A tear rolled down a familiar cheek—one that he'd seen stretched and dimpled by countless smiles, one that Remus could no longer recognize as his friend's.

With a shaking hand and his heart jumping into his throat, Remus reached one hand out and wiped the tear away with great care. Sirius flinched, and Remus could only imagine what he had endured for thirteen years. The pain. The torture. The fear.

Contact was still new to him.

"Will you stay with me, Moony?" Sirius asked.

"I will stay," Remus answered with certainty, emotion thickening his voice. "I thought it would ruin everything, coming back here, but I think all it does is give me more reason to fight. We will win, Sirius. Your sacrifices will not be worthless, I swear to you."

They were so far from the mischievous children they'd once been, and had even evolved past their days as soldiers fighting a war. They were aged beyond ordinary description, hovering somewhere between life and death.

"How have you been, Moony?" Sirius asked, eyes hungry for knowledge. "I have spent so long away from everyone. I've even been reading the papers, though they are just as boring."

The corner of Remus' mouth twitched, as though the muscles had only the faintest glimmer of a memory to guide them into a smile.

"I'm all right. My transformations take a lot from me, but I've survived."

Sirius' face twisted into a scowl. "Why us?"

Remus knew what Sirius meant. Why are we the only ones left? How are we the strong ones? Where did everyone go? How much longer until the end?

"Because we are the good ones. We have suffered, are suffering, and will suffer for everyone else." Remus' hands curled into fists. "We are the ones who will do unspeakable things—the ones who will be feared until our side wins and we are finally celebrated as heroes. But we will win. Perhaps after we die, but that's not the most important thing."

"Merlin," Sirius said, though there was a flush to his cheeks that suggested life was returning to them. "You always were a bit of a martyr."

"And we always were the best at what we did."

Remus felt a slow burn down his back and felt the effects of the previous night's transformation with more severity than he'd been experiencing to that point. He shook the pain off, though it was foolish to hide anything from Sirius Black—best friend and most valuable support in the world… at least he had been.

"You missed five full moons," Sirius reminded, his eyes carefully inspecting Remus. "Five months since I saw you. I've been counting. Five extra lonely transformations when you could have had my help."

"And I will not miss another," Remus responded. "Not when I finally have Padfoot to help me. It's been hell without the potion." His voice cracked, though he felt no embarrassment at his weakness.

"We can go exploring, like old times. We'll find some distractions," Sirius suggested, though his tone was hesitant. He expected rejection.

"Please," came Remus' plea.

Just as intensely, he continued, "Tell me, Sirius, can we ever be friends again? You must know I thought the worst of you for years, and that I thought of the most horrid things I could do to you. You must know I wanted revenge. In the same way, I know what you must think of me—I'm still free, I can work, I can see Harry, I lived in peace after the war, and I will never know what you endured…"

Sirius suddenly grasped Remus' forearm in a tight grip, though his arms and muscles were thin and his fingers were bony. Remus bit down on a gasp at the pressure.

"We must be friends again."

Remus felt a painful twinge of relief pass through him, and hardly hesitated before wrapping his arms around Sirius.

"We promised each other we'd win the war, didn't we?" Sirius continued. "I forgive you for doubting me, if you'll forgive me in return. That's the only way we can do this—the only way we can start afresh."

Remus could not stop the laughter that rose from his lips. He would never be able to explain to another person just how complete he felt with Sirius in his arms, with promises of old days, and with forgiveness given freely. In another sense, he knew that the man in his grasp was not the one that had grown up beside him, just as he had also been changed by the years.

They had a lot to relearn, but Remus promised himself—promised them—long years to do just that. They released each other with twin reluctance, first detaching their bodies. Their hands lingered, touching at various points, and then finally Sirius withdrew his arms. Remus frowned at the loss of contact, but accepted that Sirius thought they'd been touching for long enough.

That was one boundary that Remus would definitely respect.

He was shocked from his thoughts by Sirius' next words.

"You're shaking, Moony." He spoke quickly, with more urgency and worry than Remus could comprehend without pleasure sparking in his chest. It finally occurred to him that his charm had worn off and that he was extremely cold. "Follow me to the sitting room. You're just as irresponsible as before."

Remus couldn't help the amusement he felt. Who was scolding him for negligence? Could it be—Sirius Black, master of reckless behaviour?

While he was distracted, Sirius kept talking. He took Remus by the hand and hauled him forward, into the house. "I'll tend to the fire so you don't freeze to death. You should have said something. Merlin!"

Perhaps it all would be okay, Remus hoped, taking fumbling steps behind Sirius.

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