Still Fighting to Walk Towards the Light

Chapter One

One Year Later

"Merlin's beard, Sirius!" Remus scowled as he dragged his friend through the back door and into the house. "Are you trying to die?"

"What?" Sirius shrugged as though he didn't know what Remus was referring to.

"Living out in the wilderness for a year? Being out of contact with your only friends for months? And you look like you haven't eaten in months!" Sirius was shoved none-too-gently into a kitchen chair as Remus slammed a pan onto the stove and began to cook.

"Missed you too, Moony," Sirius muttered sullenly. "You know, I'm just as much an adult as you. I can take care of myself."

"You can, when you aren't too busy trying to take care of everyone else to even notice that you have needs too."

Sirius sighed and slouched down in his chair, sulking. Remus slid a bowl of soup in front of him and sat down with his own.

"I did miss you, you know," Remus said casually. "I was worried."

"Sorry." Sirius took a cautious sip. "So when did you get to be a decent cook?"

"I've always been a decent cook. You're the one who will always be hopeless in a kitchen."

Sirius nodded, then made a decision. It was time to get down to business. "What's going on with the Order?"

"Well…" Remus hesitated. "I'm not sure."

"What do you mean, you aren't sure? You and I were supposed to be getting in touch with everyone, figuring things out."

"I've talked to everyone. Everyone left, anyway. And a few extras. Everyone is prepared. Several people are going to be able to get us intelligence about the Ministry. Kingsley and Dawlish, particularly."

"So what's the problem?"

"Well, for one thing…we need a headquarters." Remus sighed. "I would offer to have it here, but my location is registered and all." Sirius knew that wasn't the real reason. No one ever came to check on them. He should know. He had stayed for a couple weeks last summer, with the intention of pretending to be Remus' dog if necessary, but it never had been. Despite all the laws about so-called "half-breeds," Remus was not kept on much of a leash at all. The problem was that Remus could barely provide for himself on the odd jobs he could acquire. His house was tiny. He couldn't maintain all the things necessary for a headquarters, such as the constant vigilance they all knew Mad-Eye would insist upon. Any security spells would be noticed by the Ministry.

Sirius frowned. "Dumbledore didn't have any suggestions?"

"One." Remus paused, then looked down at his empty bowl.

"Well?"

"Your house."

"You mean…Grimmauld Place?" Sirius dropped his spoon back into his half-full bowl and stood up. He started to pace.

"Yes. We didn't think you would go for it. And we haven't been able to reach you. But Dumbledore checked into everything. The property is yours. All the old enchantments are still in effect. No one but you can get in." Remus looked at Sirius anxiously.

Sirius stopped, chewed at the corner of his mouth. His mind whirred through the memories, the logic, the realization. "There's no other way."

It wasn't a question. But Remus answered. "Not that we can see."

Sirius steeled himself, sighed. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll do it." He walked out, leaving a stunned Remus in his wake.

Remus gave him some time, but when the sky began to darken with clouds, he set out to look for Sirius.

Predictably, Sirius was with Buckbeak, just under the cover of the trees. Remus heard him whispering something as he stroked Buckbeak's sleek head over and over again, almost absently.

"Padfoot?" Sirius jumped at the sound of his nickname, then scowled at having been surprised.

Remus bowed to Buckbeak, who kneeled in return, before approaching Sirius. "You okay?"

Sirius nodded glumly. "Did you tell Dumbledore yet?"

"Flooed over there a while ago, yeah."

"Guess that's it then."

"Sirius…is the idea of going back to that house that horrible? It's just a house."

"Wait til you see it," Sirius said bitterly. "Just wait."

Sirius stood on the front stoop, Remus at his side. They had apparated, rather than flooing, just in case anything was amiss within the house. Sirius sighed heavily, pointing the wand Remus had bought for him at the lock.

The door moaned on its hinges, decades of dust shifting through the air as they stepped inside. Sirius tread lightly on the soft carpets, wand poised and ready. He felt the house lean in to listen, every board straining faintly as it sensed his presence.

The eyes of the portraits slanted and vanished into the shadows, only the faintest whisperings audible, traveling like a soft gasp down the hallway until the terrible scream.

The words faded out as the house came back to life in his mind – his mother's cold presents and the hint of his father's wrath that pervaded even when Orion was not home. He could almost see himself as a teenager, apparently reading but ears attuned for the accusations he knew would come. And Regulus, across the hall, sealing Slytherin posters and dark magic over his dreams.

"Sirius!"

A washed out set of curtains had been wrenched shut over the portrait and the halls were fearfully silent again, the only remaining echoes of "mudbloods, traitors, filth" in Sirius own ears.

"I'm fine." He took a breath and walked further into the house, ignoring the pangs of the past.