Disclaimer: The characters are J. K. Rowling's.
Finally!
Chapter 1: Just Friends
The fire was warm and its steady crackle was soothing to Remus. He leaned back in his armchair with a small sigh and closed his tired, brown eyes. In the next room he could hear Sirius moving around, preparing dinner. Remus had been taken aback by Sirius' insistence on cooking for him. He thought Sirius would have been tired of such menial tasks by now, having lived as a dog for a whole year and completely self-reliant. But Sirius had simply smiled that crooked smile of his and pointed out that Remus could use a break. Remus hadn't missed his friend's concerned glance out of the window, through which the full moon would soon shine, and agreed, acknowledging that he did feel rather exhausted.
Now Remus chuckled to himself when he heard Sirius hum a few notes under his breath, his voice mingling melodically with the sound of something simmering. He wondered what Sirius seemed to be so happy about. Only two nights before he had appeared on Remus' doorstep, shaken and agitated, and informed him that Voldemort had returned. On Dumbledore's orders they were to lie low at Remus' and await instruction. Remus knew that Sirius hated idling, preferring to be in the thick of things. He had done his best to keep Sirius occupied by taking him on walks in the woods that surrounded his home, challenging him to wizard's chess, and just talking. Gradually, Sirius had relaxed and the mood in Remus' small home was easy tonight.
Opening his eyes a fraction, Remus looked critically around his small sitting room. The armchair and couch were shabby, the coffee table scratched and worn. The only decoration giving the walls any feature was a picture of the four Marauders in their youth. Well, three now, since Peter had shamefully walked out of the frame a year ago. It wasn't much of a home (barely more than a house), but Sirius seemed to enjoy staying with him. Remus supposed these small creature comforts must be nice to someone who had been confined to a cell for twelve years, then forced to sleep on a hard cave floor for a thirteenth. His musings were confirmed by another hearty hum from Sirius in the next room.
Remus' eyes fell on a pile of blankets and a pillow folded neatly on one side of the couch. That couch isn't very soft, he thought. And it gets drafty in here at night. When he had pointed this out to Sirius the first night, Sirius had shouted him down, insisting he would not take Remus' bed. But maybe he wouldn't have to take it, Remus found himself thinking. What if we shared it? ...
Remus suddenly shook his head and straightened a little in his chair. His usual logic was returning and he wondered what he'd been thinking. Sirius and he couldn't be together again; they had clarified that seventeen years ago. He shivered a little, remembering the conversation they had had by the lake on that last summer's day of school.
Sirius had been the one to finally voice what had hovered between them for the last two weeks, asking if their relationship would continue after Hogwarts. It had pained Remus greatly to look Sirius in his handsome face and say no. Whispers and points within Hogwarts were easily ignored under the security blanket of James' and Sirius' popularity, but Remus knew that Sirius deserved better in the wizarding world. He deserved someone who wouldn't be so dependent on him, physically, emotionally, and financially. He deserved someone who shared his grace and confidence. For his part, Sirius had acknowledged that it would be difficult to maintain a relationship in such a climate of fear and uncertainty. Even having friends was risky, knowing that Voldemort or his Death Eaters could easily destroy anything, tangible or otherwise, at any given moment. The two men had parted rather amiably, not allowing their grief to create a wider chasm between them.
The following weeks had been difficult for Remus. He hated waking to an empty room, knowing that he and Sirius could have enjoyed the sunrise side by side. As he settled into his secluded home in the forest, he noted regretfully that he and Sirius could have reveled in the absolute privacy, no longer restricted to concealed corridors and stolen moments in their dorm room. The certainty that he had done the right thing and Sirius' ready agreement finally consoled him, and he woke one morning to find he regarded Sirius as a fond memory from his youth. The handful of times that he saw Sirius before Voldemort's downfall were friendly and untroubled, unburdened by the past.
When Remus learned of Sirius' betrayal that led to The Potters' deaths, he was devastated. He would lie awake night after night, wondering if Sirius' allegiance to Voldemort had been the real reason for leaving him so willingly. The hurt had festered within him for twelve years until Sirius escaped. Then, the threat of the Dementor's kiss had made Remus feel sick and fearful of his capture, and his hurt and anger were abruptly kept at bay. The revelations in the Shrieking Shack banished all traces of uncertainty, and Remus had thoroughly enjoyed corresponding with Sirius over the last year, rebuilding their friendship.
Remus relaxed into the armchair again, resting his head on its back and closing his eyes once more. Friendship, he told himself firmly. Just friendship.