The Refugee

I see your face
I see you staring back at me
Wa--War...

--"The Refugee" by U2

Remus fell into his desk chair, the hard wood bit into his back unpleasantly. He heard the definitive crack of his joints as he stretched and yet again he was reminded of his age. He rubbed an ink-stained hand over his forehead and looked down at the pile of papers he had to grade.

His first year class was just beginning basic stunning spells and he'd assigned an essay last Monday. Another heap of papers detailed advanced protection spells and yet another was on vampires. He ran his hand through his hair before rummaging through his things for his pot of red ink.

He pushed past a collection of Emily Dickinson's poetry and a copy of his fifth year's text book. He could find black and blue ink, but his red pot was missing.

Remus sighed and got out of his chair, joints protesting the movement. He got down on his hands and knees to look under his bed. When he's located the rogue ink, he jerked up and hit his head on the bed frame.

Moaning in pain, he slipped from underneath the bed dizzily. His vision blurred and he stumbled against the wardrobe that housed his sample boggart.

"Bugger." He muttered tiredly when the doors flew open to release the boggart.

He unearthed his wand, ready to mutter a "Ridikulus!" and banish the conjured moon.

But no moon appeared from the wardrobe. In fact, nothing happened. The doors swung loosely on their hinges until falling halfway closed.

Remus raised an eyebrow. He didn't know how the boggart could have escaped without his notice, but he supposed weirder things had happened. "Damn, I don't know where I can get another one…"

He reached out to close the wardrobe doors again, hand connecting with the mahogany, when another pale hand curled around his.

Remus gasped and jerked away from the wardrobe, trembling so hard that he dropped his wand.

The hand withdrew into the wardrobe for a moment before reappearing to open the door.

And Sirius Black was there, grinning.

He wasn't the Sirius Remus had seen in the Prophet, manic and unkempt. Nor was he the Sirius of Remus' youth.

He was the Sirius that haunted Remus. The one that appeared in his dreams and flashed across the faces of strangers when Remus let his mind slip. His hair was too long, reaching as far as his jaw and brushing into his eyes. He had his same aristocratic nose and too full lips. The same sparkling eyes and half-teasing smile.

Sirius brought a hand up to his chin in a mock-observant gesture. His eyes ran from the crown of Remus' head to his toes, pausing at his chest and crotch.

"Christ, Moony." He mumbled lowly, and took a step towards Remus. "You're all old and shit."

Remus' jaw came unhinged.

"Not that it's unattractive or anything, Moony. You're still sexy as fuck. You've just got that whole professor thing going for you now."

Remus managed to relocate his cowering voice. "You aren't real."

Sirius laughed, that barking carefree laugh, and moved even closer to Remus. "Aw, Moony, I missed you."

Remus just stared.

Sirius brought up a tapered hand and ran it across Remus' jaw-line. "You finally managed to grow some stubble, Moons. I'm proud."

"You aren't real."

Sirius ran the hand from his jaw to just behind his ear where a small piece of cartilage was missing. He tugged on Remus earlobe playfully before bringing his hand to the nape of his neck. "C'mon, Moons. Don't tell me you haven't missed me too." He pulled Remus forward and slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Remus jerked away, panicked. He hurriedly stumbled for his wand which had rolled towards his desk, but Sirius' foot was there first.

Remus looked up.

"Say it, Moony."

Remus rose to stand, but was shaking as he did so. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sirius grinned and this time Remus was unable to suppress a half-aroused shudder. Sirius' smirk only grew. "Say you missed me, Moony."

Remus shook his head. "I didn't. I don't. You—you're not real. You're a boggart."

Sirius—or rather, Sirius' boggart—raised an eyebrow. It tilted its head in an extraordinary copy of the real Sirius. "You still missed him."

"No, no I didn't. He killed everyone I had in the world." Remus was desperate now. His wand was trapped under the boggart. It advanced towards him, pushing him against the wall and prohibiting him from escape. "I hate him."

The boggart ran a long-fingered hand down Remus' chest, unbuttoning his oxford as it went. It laughed. "Didn't stop you from loving him, though, did it?"

Remus was going to say no, until it kissed him again. This time it coaxed Remus' mouth wide open and simply devoured him. Remus could taste Sirius on this boggarts faux-tongue and could feel Sirius' hands run over his skin, under his shirt, under his trousers. He moaned and kissed back. Sirius—it—moved its hands behind Remus and lifted him into its embrace. Remus tilted his head back so far that the crown of his head touched the wall behind him. Sirius' boggart took that opportunity to move its mouth from Remus' mouth to his neck, sucking on Remus' Adam's apple as Sirius used to. It pulled Remus higher and Remus allowed his legs to wrap around Sirius' hips.

A low chuckle rose in Sirius' throat and it moved down to bite at Remus' nipple. "Good, yes?"

Remus could only manage to groan.

"What was that about not missing me?"

Remus didn't answer.

Sirius licked down Remus' exposed, concave stomach. Lower, lower, so low he almost…but then he stopped. Tantalizingly close. "Liar."

Remus bucked involuntarily and whimpered. "Please."

"Tell the truth, then."

"I missed you terribly. I dreamt of you every night. Please."

Sirius complied by licking Remus through the cloth. It wasn't enough. "And the bit about hating me?"

"True, but I loved you still. Oh god, please."

But it stopped there and stepped away. Remus fell to the ground, halfway to sobbing. He extended a long arm to find his wand. This time he got it and managed to whisper "Ridikulus." Sirius' boggart disappeared in a wisp to the wardrobe.

Remus bit his lip. He re-buttoned his shirt, stumbled to his desk and finished grading his papers.

Author's Note: That turned out differently than I expected. I was planning on a happier conclusion, but...what can one do?

Thank you for reading everyone. I've truly enjoyed writing this.

Yours,

A.A.