Remus's Moon

Complex slash

(MWPP era)

"Sirius-"

The sound was throaty, harsh as it escaped his throat. The dark boy turned around.

"Yes, Moony?"

Remus allowed a slightly pleading look to spill into his face, still uncertain of the boy's reaction, still uncertain of his decision. "Will you be gone long?"

A smile flooded his dark face, but the light did not reach his eyes, "Of course I won't." He turned slowly, out of the shadowed doorway and he heard his footsteps echo softly down the hallway. He listened until there were no more sounds, and he waited. The flickering lights in the hall dimmed, and the door creaked on it's rusty hinges and threatened to crumble. The wood was decaying, and the crude cushions he was pushed aganist were becoming hard and unwelcome.

What he wouldn't give for hot chocolate on such a cold Christmas...

This Christmas James had gone home, Sirius was avoiding his parents until the ineviable. Peter had gone home as well, to help out, he had said. Attacks were becoming more common, and it was right that Peter and James would go to their homes that defied this darkness, and that Sirius stay away from the Dark Lord, and the poison his name tranferred in the blood.

He began to wonder where Sirius had gone off to, but didn't worry, even as the lights dimmed and the wax dripped more and more he did not wonder. Then the wicks began to run out, and the howl and cold seemed to pass through the flimsy wood. Where is Sirius? He wondered, and then began to lower his head in resignation. The night hours passed, wind howling and the rain and snow pelting aganist the roof.

An awful sadness captured him, because he waited too long.

The morning was already spilling through the cracks in the shack, ripped furniture over-turned and tattered into shreds, his body still shaking with the shock of his recent transformation. Torn wood lay scattered on the floor, rug overturn and thrown against the wall, dust beginning to settle once more before his monthly atrocity would attack once more.

The door creaked open then, and Remus could smell the scent of dog, more specifically, he could smell Sirius. He heard his footfall, which was light and easy, and he could not explain why, but he felt betrayed.

"Oi there!" Sirius called up the stairs, before walking up with a cheerful gait. "Sorry about the hold up, ran into Snivellus." The name was pronounced in a grimace that was practically heard in his voice. Remus couldn't help but feel that Snape was just an excuse; he was always an excuse for something else.

Sirius crossed the room in long strides, and promptly fell into a sitting position next to Remus's exhausted figure. He rustled around his cloak pocket, "Right, here is some butterbeer, oh—and some chocolate frogs, and-" his fumbled around for something else, "bother." He heard him mutter, "Bloody wanking pockets, ah!" A magazine flew out of his cloak, and almost smacked Remus in the head.

"Watch it, Padfoot. Becoming decapitated and incarcerated is not an appealing thought at the moment."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "You aren't locked in here, you know. It's just that you're too exhausted to make it back to the castle. You look wretched." He said all this with an obnoxious smile Remus felt like punching.

"Well aren't you one for boosting confidence in this miscreant morning," the sarcasm dripped off his words like syrup.

"Anytime old buddy ol pal!" Then he had to go and use those insufferable American sayings. Remus thought it sounded ridiculous with a British accent.

To Sirius, the 'Old West' was the golden age. Sirius rifled through the magazine, he held it the side, turning his head, looking at the page with amazement on his face. Remus looked at him, then turned and swiftly yanked it out of his grasp.

"What a load of rubbish," although his mouth did fall open at the scene on the page.

Sirius smiled with a dazed look, "Oh well!" He said hurriedly, and Remus looked up suddenly at Sirius, surprised. "Let's head back, Pomfrey will have my head if we don't."

Remus sighed and dusted himself off, "Oh all right." He looked up, to find Sirius staring at him with those black eyes.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Remus knew Sirius was genuinely concerned, and he did not want to worry him, "Of course I am," he said with a smile. But just like Sirius, the smile did not reach his eyes. He was not, in fact, alright. He was tired and hungry, and he felt emptiness, like this entire cycle would never end, and it never did. His bones ached and so did every muscle on his body; he had cleaned the blood away because Sirius always blanched at the sight of it, even though he would not admit it. He felt an open gash down his spinal cord and the crudely cleaned wounds on his face. His entire midsection was bruised and he felt as if he had been hit by a train. Of course he was alright.

Sirius looked satisfied, "Okay then, let's get you to the Hospital Wing." He promptly turned into Padfoot, barking at his feet and nipping affectionately at his heel.

"Right then, you go and press the knot; I don't need any further grievances." The dog wagged his tail excitedly, and disappeared down the tunnel. All the while, he wondered what really kept Sirius from coming back that night, why he had broken his promise. He saw the scraggly dog's paw rest on the knot, and the Whomping Willow lay sedated and calm. It was colder outside, and he felt it pierced him directly. He wanted the warm fire of the common room more than anything at the moment.

A wet nose jarred his thoughts as it went into the palm of his dangling hand, and led him to the castle. An unnatural sight they would pose, a scraggly dog leading a boy who staggered with every few steps, with gashes and torn clothing lying in tattered remains on his body.

They neared the castle, the snow falling around them in a cold reminder of winter, and right before they entered the castle, Sirius changed back. He looked back to Remus, and his smile faltered—he really did look terrible. He felt guilt creep into him, but immediately squashed it and held it down while it suffocated. He smiled at his friend encouragingly.

Remus looked up, utterly spent and ready to pass out; he was beyond any hope of pride. He was barely able to whisper a few words while watching his friend's face change with a chilling happiness. He felt himself falling directly into the snow, and knew that his body was betraying him into fatigue. "Why didn't you come back, Sirius?" With a thump, he landed on the cold snow, the water seeping through his clothes.

The snow around Remus was quickly turning an awful crimson color, and Sirius panicked. He ran to him, and crouched down, thoughts whirling. He shouldn't touch him; that he knew.

A small first year stepped down the stairs, staring wide eyed at the scene before her, clutching a letter. She looked transfixed and shocked; it made Sirius oddly very angry.

"Don't just stand there, get Madame Pomfrey!" He bellowed quite rudely at the poor girl, and perhaps it was unfair, but one of his best friends was lying in the snow bleeding, and hell take him if that wasn't something to be hysterical about. His hands lingered above his head, reluctant to touch him, "Moony?" he probed hesitantly, "hey, is anyone in there?"

He pondered what Remus had said, he would forget it. After all, he couldn't explain it either. He couldn't explain the feeling of losing control and needing to gain the upper hand. He needed someone to need him, and it was a pitiful thought. His mind paused in acute horror of his thoughts.

He didn't go back because he wanted to so badly, he didn't go back because that would mean that Moony had a hold over him, and he couldn't allow that. He was a bloody coward and Moony was bleeding all over the snow because of him.

He racked his hands through his hair nervously, how could he be pondering in his thoughts whenwhen he friends was lying face-down in the snow, resting in his own blood?

He turned around to the sound of panicked running behind him, and was shoved away as Remus was lifted into a magical stretcher. He watched them disappear into the castle and take Moony with them, blast Christmas and blast the bloody holidays when there was no James.

He looked around him for a moment, wide eyed and staring. What the bloody hell was he doing standing here in the middle of the snow? He ran inside the castle, and didn't stop until he was at the infirmary, watching Remus become delivered into safe hands and he felt comforted. His eyes fluttered shut.

Everything was groggy and hazy when he woke, and he felt bruised beyond any comparison as he lay on the hospital bed. "Arg-" he managed to spit out instead of any coherent words. There was an unidentified heat source at the side of his cot, he sighed. It was Sirius's head. Remus looked down at him with sad, hazel eyes. He felt infinitely sad, as if a void that would never be closed gaped open in front of him. The boy sleeping in front of him stirred a shame in him, and he felt the need to speak something, if only to hear and confirm his voice exsisted. He paused, took a breath, and spoke the first word that came to mind.

"Need," he managed to whisper softly to the dark head.

There was a silence, and he was afraid he had woken him with his throaty voice.

"Want," Sirius spoke softly in his sleep, into his arms yet he heard him nonetheless. His head stirred, and with a rush of panic, Remus suddenly knew that he had been awake the entire time. Sirius looked up at him with clear eyes, a determined look, and Remus forced himself not to be embarrassed. He hand found Remus's, and clutched it hard. He clutched it like he would never touch him again, and Remus had to bite his lip so he did not cry out in pain.

"Let go of me Sirius," he spoke quietly, and his hand was released. Sirius brought his head close to Remus, so close their noses were nearly touching. But he merely had an inquisitive look, as if searching for some answer while he squirmed uncomfortably.

"I'll get you some food," Sirius stood up, as if nothing had passed between them, and maybe, well maybe nothing had.

He found himself wondering once more, and he remebered the cold snow, so very cold and biting. It seemed his ears throbbed with noise before everything numbed down to a tunnel that now fled from his subconscience to his waking thoughts. It had been a tunnel, dark, yet spinning to a light at the end. He had stumbled before it, exhausted and feeling dream-blood cake his wounds. He felt the gashes on his face begin to bleed again, and then, well then he remembered no more, as if his memory had been swept up before him, wiped clean.

Sirius brought me here, he thought, and never came back.

Well, that's that for now. Hope it's not painfully obvious...I was trying to set a slightly darker tone, this whole scene mostly inspired by some awesome art that's found at Harry Potter and the Planetarium. I tried the link but it didn't work. Just type that in a search engine.