Author: shyangell & MorningDawn
DISCLAIMER: All the fictional characters appearing in this fanfiction story are not mine, they're J.K. Rowling's; and they are being used with the only purpose of personal entertainment.
Chapter Twelve – Left Behind
Only a couple days later, Sirius finds the twins plotting in a corner while a potion is stirring in one of the broom cupboards in disuse not far away. He shakes his head ruefully, but otherwise settles for observing them from the poorly lit hallway. Thank god the twins are of age or he would have to hear another sermon from Molly about encouraging criminal behaviour for not telling them off immediately. But in Grimmauld Place the wards and barriers are so thick that the Ministry wouldn't have a clue of what is happening inside even if a battle took place. Not that Molly would care.
He has in good authority that the Ministry gets contradictory magical signals form the house, this area as they see it in their maps and vigilance mechanisms, all the time. The wards are like a polished mirror that reflects light, blinding the observer to what takes place not only inside but in the surroundings too. When he had been a child he had practiced magic with a wand regularly, encouraged by his parents, of course… and at the summer break from Hogwarts had done so too and never received a letter. Of course that he hadn't said anything because the last thing he needed was to give proof to the damn woman that he had taken place in any kind of not-quite-legal affair, even as a young boy.
Then he recognizes the potion brewing inside the small cauldron as a brand of babbling beverage, with its purplish tone and its mustard-like consistence in mid-brew. He also notices the large box that they're keeping close by and that contains Glumbumble parts, Alihotsy leaves, a couple doxys, and Bulbabox and Wartcap Powder, probably stolen from the trash can from the day they cleaned the drawing room. Fred pushes the box out of the way to spread some parchment over the surface of yet another box.
"If I were you, I wouldn't keep any of that next to any source of heat." he says nonchalantly, his voice ringing loud and clear over the whispers of the twins. The twins jump in the air only to look at him guiltily and startled, and then at each other.
"Please, don't tell Mum." whispers Fred with large pleading eyes, which he's pretty sure are completely fake. "Pretty please…" begs George.
"I'm not going to do so, but…" they both look wary. "…you'll have to do me a favour."
The twins look both curious and surprised.
"Whatever Sirius." says Fred. Sirius palms his breast pocket and removes what looked like a cigarette box and hands it to George.
"I need you to swap this for my brother's real one." he says quietly.
"Yeah, sure." George says up. "You have a deal, mate."
"Why don't you do it yourself?" asks Fred. Sirius smirks.
"Because he's looking out for me since your little stunt with the eyes." he says as he motions to leave.
"Wait a minute!" exclaims George. "You were already planning on making us do that!"
"Tut, tut…" Sirius seems terribly amused. "Of course, already tried myself. Didn't work… Not that you can refuse. Now I can blackmail you with that." he says with a twinkle in his eyes, and points at their bubbling cauldron.
"True." grumbles George, realizing they have been bested. "Okay, we'll do it."
"The pleasure is mine boys, for doing business with you." he says letting out a peal of laughter. "Just steer those powders away from that potion. If it explodes you are cleaning and scrubbing this cupboard by yourselves."
"'Kay… thanks for the advice." says Fred as he points to their own box.
Later in the evening, the childrens are laying the table and while Molly stirs a few timers more the stew for it to be ready, Remus and Sirius there too. The sounds of the crackling fire and bits and pieces of quiet conversation are suddenly muffled by a loud bang behind the kitchen door, or close to the pantry.
Molly looks towards where the sound has come with a look of alarm. Then the door bursts open and Regulus appears behind it, fuming. His face is as black as his hair and his eyes gleaming furiously, his whole body shacking noticeably. The entire shirt collar is burnt black, and his right hand has become blackened too as it is holding onto what looks like a combusted cigarette.
Their first reaction is to freeze, but when he starts walking towards the sink, everyone in the room (except for Molly, who is still frowning) starts laughing. Regulus stands by the sink and with cold water starts to try and remove the black dust that covers both his face and his hands. Now Sirius is letting out his sharp bark-like laugh, like they haven't seen him like that in a long time. When Regulus removes his head of the sink, he turns towards his brother looking a bit more than upset.
"For God's sake Sirius! There was no need for that." he reproaches him.
"Who says it was me?" asks Sirius tartly now.
"Who else would do that? It has your sticky fingerprints all over it. There was no need of placing a small bomb in there; an exploding cigarette would have made the message come across!" Remus Lupin is trying to hold his laughter in but failing in front of the nonsensical situation "My teeth are still feeling it." He says as he massages his jaw, shooting a resentful look at his brother. "My brains are still dancing inside my skull."
"It serves you good." says Sirius as he disinterestedly inspects his nails. "That should teach you not to smoke inside the house."
"I can't get outside the house…"
"That's my point, you shouldn't smoke, let the fun of killing you to me not tobacco." the twins are now in hysterics. Regulus is piercing him with his eyes, still massaging his hand and jaw. But he says nothing, and in stead he just chooses to sit there and look at the patterns of the wooden surface.
::::::::::::::
The first of September the house is awakened by the screams of Mrs. Black and Mrs. Wealsley, both sounding in unison. Mrs. Weasley is yelling at the twins because they have thrown Ginny down the stairs with two jinxed trunks, and Regulus makes a point of making himself scarce.
"….COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS…"
"…FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS…"
Although he cannot completely ignore the ruckus, as the noise trespasses the walls and resonated through the halls was quite impossible to turn completely off.
"WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!" Mrs. Weasley bellows to the children that are still up in their rooms.
Mrs. Black's portrait is howling with rage but nobody is bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall is bound to rouse her again, anyway. Funny enough, Sirius does not appear today to shut Mrs. Black, but lets her go on yelling. Mrs Weasley is directing people around in the hall when the familiar bear-like black dog appears at Harry's side as he is clambering over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley. He is followed by the younger Black brother, who is looking down at Sirius with a sceptical look.
It is a strange dog, massive in built, but so appallingly thin. It is pitch-black and the fur is thick, with long silky hairs and a feathered tail with long tresses of fine black hair. The relatively small ears stand upright, alert and jerking ever so slightly with every different noise. And while the size of the dog is surprising, as it is even bigger than an Irish Wolfhound and the race itself is undefined, the most startling property of the creature are its eyes. They are very pale, very light, a very soft grey and they seem to shine in the semidarkness. They are intelligent, alert eyes, not animal eyes, and a bit outputting.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!" shrieks Molly. Sirius only wags his tail insolently.
"I won't even tell you not to go, because I know you won't even listen." says Regulus, the dog looks back up at him and gives his hand a big wet sloppy lick all over, then barks at him in a way reminiscent of his usual bark-like laugher. Regulus looks disgustedly to his now wet hand and waves it in the air. "That, was completely unnecessary, by the way."
He goes to pat the proud head with the slobbery hand in retaliation, but a warning growl deep in the big beast's throat and a pointed glare from the clear altogether non-animal eyes dissuade him and his hand hovers in mid-air. And the exchange is swiftly interrupted by Mrs Weasley.
"Oh honestly…" says Mrs. Weasley despairingly as she looks at them. "Well, on your own head be it!"
She wrenches open the front door and Sirius bounds out of the door faster that anyone can say quidditch, leaving the arduous job of shutting the cantankerous portrait to Regulus. Outside, the door slams behind them and Mrs. Black's screeches are cut off instantly.
The great black dog runs up and down the street, circles them joyfully, sniffs people as they pass… managing a quite convincing imitation of a true dog. He gives a joyful bark and gambols around them, snapping at pigeons and chasing its own tail.
Sirius feels dizzy with happiness… he can't smell the rotting air of Grimmauld Place, and the deafening silence that mostly reigns in the dratted old mansion is gone, chased away by the roar of car engines and the shouting of people in the streets. Sirius has been trapped inside for a very long time, too long for anyone's sanity. He runs in shorts sprints and rejoins the group many times, revelling in the feeling of burning lungs and how his muscles stretch at a run.
It takes them twenty minutes to reach King's Cross on foot and nothing more eventful happens during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for Harry's entertainment. Once inside the station they linger casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast is clear, then each of them leans against it in turn and falls easily through on to Platform nine and three-quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stands belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families.
Sirius looks curiously all around and observing the familiar space for the first time in long years. He dodges people in the crowd and has to contain himself once or twice to avoid biting someone's ankles. Instead he sticks close to Harry and the Weasleys.
"Nice dog, Harry!" calls a tall black boy with dreadlocks. Sirius barks at him happily and looks curiously in the lad's direction.
"Thanks, Lee!" says Harry, grinning, as Sirius wags his tail frantically.
When he can bring himself to pay attention again to the group he sides with Mad-eye, and nudges him in the arm with the muzzle.
"No trouble?" growls Moody.
"Nothing" says Lupin.
"I'll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore," says Moody, "that's the second time he's not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus."
"Well, look after yourselves," says Lupin, shaking hands all round. He reaches Harry last and gives him a clap on the shoulder. "You too. Harry. Be careful."
"Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled," says Moody, shaking Harry's hand too. "And don't forget, all of you… careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don't put it in a letter at all."
The warning whistle sounds; the students still on the platform hurry on to the train. For one brief moment, the great black dog rears on to its hind legs and with all its majestic size, places its front paws on Harry's shoulders… before Mrs. Weasley shoves him away towards the train door.
"For heaven's sake, act more like a dog, Sirius!" she hisses.
The kids wave goodbye from the open window as the train begins. Suddenly, out of an impulse, Padfoot bounds forward, and with long evens strides picks up speed as the train does. He dodges people in the crowd, and runs alongside the window, wagging his tail. He distantly hears people's laughter. Finally the train begins to go faster and faster and he barks one last time as they disappear around the bend.
And there is a terrible feeling of loss; of terrible finality. It shouldn't because no-one has died; all is well and as it should be. He trots morosely back into the station and towards the group, his tail limp and ears downcast. Remus whistles at him.
"Padfoot! Come here!" the big black dog approaches the tawny-haired man, and his tail starts moving a bit again, as if saying 'hello'. "Let's go back, shall we."
If anyone finds it strange that a grown man is talking to a dog about plans and such, nobody says so, in fact people seems to pass by them unnoticed.
"I have to go to the Ministry, I'll pass by later." says Mr. Weasley as he kisses his wife goodbye.
"Yeah, me too." says Tonks. "see you later guys!"
And it does looks strange because she is still looking like an old spinster, and the words just fit her strangely. The dog head butts her in the small of her back, and affectionately tugs at her skirt, before she swats his rump and he gives an undignified yelp.
"And you Moody?" asks Lupin.
"I have a guard you-know-where." he whispers, his fake eye spinning like mad. Lupin sighs.
"Ok, then it's you" says motioning to Molly. "Pads, and me going back."
"Exactly. Let's going." she says still eyeing Sirius as if he had just killed some innocent pigeon and had its entrails hanging from his mouth.
Remus, Molly and Sirius exit King's Cross and head back to Grimmauld Place. Sirius spends the entire ride back running up and down the street, trying to chase pigeons and asking the passersby to tickle him. It is plain obvious that he is enjoying himself, and that thought alone makes Remus smile.
Although if he looks at it attentively enough he can see just how the bounce in his trot is not as cheery, or the longing looks he throws around are more pronounced, or how much more he ignores Molly. He supposes that the pressure of going back alone could do that to anyone, especially if you've been months trying to get out in the first place.
::::::::::::::
When they reach the house they enter quietly, trying not to awake the house's resident You-know-who. The massive form of the black dog wanders inside and confounds itself with the surrounding darkness in the poorly lit hallway. In mid stroll it changes back from dog to man, whose face contorts itself in a frown of contempt as he looks the dark walls surrounding him again. When he turns around he comes face to face with the rage of Molly Weasley.
"Dumbledore told you NOT to get out of the house." she hisses. "He specifically told you couldn't go to King's Cross!" And as they are still in the hallway, somehow it manages to awaken again Mrs. Black, yet again.
"I wanted to say goodbye to him! That's all! No harm came out of it, damnit!"
"You were told not to!" she fights back. "It's not so difficult to understand!"
"Please, stop!" says Remus bravely stepping in between the two titans as Sirius fingers start to tense ominously and his knuckles start to go white.
"You were putting you and him both, in danger!" she refuses to concede back. She acts like an enraged bull, lowering her head and charging onwards relentlessly; regardless of the consequences to herself or the convenience of a diplomatic retreat. Her eyes are two irate little spots glowing in the dim light.
"No one knows I'm an animagus Molly! Specially not the all those children! It doesn't matter that a Death Eater might've seen because they couldn't do anything in a space crowded and packed as King's Cross! And the Ministry still doesn't know!" yells Sirius, back unable to restrain himself any longer. It is that or hexing her, and he somehow doesn't think Arthur will appreciate that much. "You worry far too much!"
"No, I worry enough! Besides he's my son' best friend! Practically a son to me!" she yells.
"And he's my best friend's son! Where is the difference exactly?" he spats.
That is when Regulus Black comes running down the stairs, drawn to the hall by the shrieks of his mother and glares at them. And with a wave of his arm and a pointed finger he banishes them to the kitchen.
"Stop this right now!" Molly shuts up immediately from the impression. The normally quiet features are as stormy as any Black's can be when in a dark mood. The silence crackles with tension in the triangle formed between both darkling heads and the red-headed woman. Sirius in spite of being really mad himself doesn't dignify the order with a reply, and passes beside the outstretched arm with a flurry of dark robes and the murmur of good silk against his ankles.
"Don't follow him, Molly." Remus warns her. "Don't pursue the matter."
And he tugs her sleeve until she follows him into the bowels of the house, or the kitchen as they are most known. He puts the kettle on the stove and she allows him to pour her some tea. As he settles down she breaks the silence that has descended upon them.
"Maybe he would see the wrong in his ways if you would stop enabling him, Remus." she says, her lips still pursed.
"Enabling him?" he asks politely.
"Yes, he does… rash things. Is a danger to all of us and still everyone lets it go." she accuses. "He is not well and does not behave as a member of the Order should; moreover he is a danger to Harry… And the poor child, of course doesn't realise that…"
"Harry has never had anyone." Remus patiently explains. "And don't be offended, but as much as he loves your family and staying with you, you are not his family Molly. You'll always have your own children, they know each other better… Sirius is an adult who cares for him profoundly, has known him since birth, and Harry doesn't have to share him with anyone. Of course he's attached to Sirius."
"He is a bad influence." she repeats stubbornly.
"Everyone can be a bad influence…" says Remus with a frown. "in the right circumstances. Look, I'm not trying to diminish you, but you're being far too judgemental with all this."
His words are kind but his tone is severe and the edge of his words sting. Sirius and Remus so often work on such entirely different levels that sometimes it is too easy for her and everyone else, to overlook the depth of their friendship. The great amount of years they've known each other. And the unwavering loyalty that binds them still despite everything they've undergone. She frowns too.
"He's frustrated and profoundly unhappy, Molly. You would be as well, in his position. But he is not mad or inherently stupid." says Lupin.
"He gambles with his life, and endangers people around him all the time!" she protests. "if he's not stupid then he is totally irresponsible."
"He lives of risk. It keeps him going, I guess." he thoughtfully contemplates the depths of his cup of tea. "But this is nothing new… more like it made him invaluable for the Order."
"Now it is not fifteen years ago Remus! And you both keep forgetting that too often." she accuses. "and if, as he keeps reminding me he is Harry's Godfather, that certainly doesn't make him appear a very good one." Remus pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Before extending judgement you should know he is more than capable of getting himself… any anyone who is along for the ride, out of trouble anytime, anywhere." he counters. "He can handle himself, what he can't handle is inactivity. Ad by the way, him being inactive doesn't mean he truly is as useless as Snape says."
"He can be as good as he wants, but he is clearly, not by himself, we can't afford it now. He's got Harry to think of."
"And believe it or not, he accts accordingly. He's stayed here." he says. "Before, I doubt it very much he wouldn't have resigned his post outright. All this two years he's done what's best for Harry. Truly. Harry is the reason he's still in England."
He looks tired and weary. He feels all this effort he is putting into justifying someone who won't thank him for it later, in front of an enraged mother of seven who won't listen to reason in the best of circumstances… well, it is a bit pointless.
"Look Molly… you can't expect for him to treat Harry as a small child, first because he truly isn't…" he raises his hand for her to let him continue as she is about to protest. "… and then because you can't expect him to do so when he himself has never been treated like one. You don't know what it was like it back then for him. He's had to take horrible decisions from very early age… and he will always measure young people with a bit of a distorted point of view."
"Well… it is no-one's fault how horrible his childhood was!" she exclaims. "Harry needs security, not someone to twist even more what he's got left of childhood. He can't possibly be a reassuring influence!"
He knows what Molly is wondering now is if she should dub Harry's parents as mad people too, just because they named a man she considers highly disrespectable and unstable as their only son's Godfather. Of course, that she doesn't understand the arrogant git doesn't have anything to do with all this business.
"Don't let any of them two hear that." he counsels, and pauses "Sirius' got as many virtues as he's got defects. I'm not blind or stupid either… recklessness, rashness, arrogance, a tendency to be disdainful, he's got horrible mood swings, sometimes ruthless, being sometimes outright cruel… I know, all you've got to say, I know. But even you can see this is not all there is to him."
"No." she says and presses her lips tightly.
- You're only seeing his disgruntled persistent presence inside Headquarters. But there are a lot of positive things Harry can learn from him. He's extremely resilience to bad influences of any kind; his thoughts cannot be swayed, or tampered with. Never takes the easy way out, but does what deep down believes is right no matter what personal cost. He doesn't follow convention or general acceptance but a strict code of honour, maybe not standard, but he has his rules and sticks to them. He never gives up. He never gives in. He's here isn't he? He's deeply loyal to his people…" he tries to convey into words. "He loves so hard. That's what it really is, like no one else I've ever known. It's his greatest strength, you know… as well as the origin of almost all the worst things in his life. He loves fiercely. If you're one of his people, he'll kill for you; die for you; live for you… no questions asked, no blames placed, no way on earth to stop him. He doesn't do it on purpose, either, not out of any special choice. It's just how he is."
Molly nods half-heartedly.
"It also means that perceived betrayal is a deep wound that can tear a relationship apart forever… look at his family. He does nothing by halves; he either loves you or hates you. And those he tolerates it is mostly because he either does not know or puts up in behalf of someone he does truly and genuinely like." he shakes his head. "What makes Regulus' presence back in his life even more surprising… now that I think of it…"
"No offence Remus, but it is not as if any of this is going to keep him from eventually harming someone." cuts him Molly, stubborn.
"Cut him some slack!" Remus seems now truly irritated. "After all he's come through… Azkaban is no stroll in the park. No matter how you look at it Azkaban is Hell of Earth. You're seeing only the harsher part of Sirius, the one with cutting edges. But he is not mad, nor going mad. And Azkaban is not an infectious illness he carries around like a cloak! You should do well to stop looking at him suspiciously every time he talks. He deserves the chance to right his life… it should not be fair that after a wrongful imprisonment people now mistrust him because he has been imprisoned, although they can no longer blame him for doing anything in the first place!"
"He acts as if he's delusional! He's not well, he can right his life all he wants as long as he doesn't hurt anyone else!" she says.
"I don't say he is well… yet. Give him time. And don't be so harsh… when it is unnecessary." he pauses and gives a long defeated sigh. "…not now, but other times. You ought not to, because none of us can know what we would do if we were in his shoes, because fortunately we can't imagine what it is… neither my experiences nor yours come even close. And I was saying you should just stop reminding him of his slip-ups every time he mentions someone who's dead. Is not as if he talks of them thinking they're alive… isn't it? He speaks a lot in the past because he doesn't have any memories worth reviving to talk and compare that are of a recent past. The only 'normal' frame of reference he has is fifteen years outdated. Even he can't catch up that fast!"
"I can't promise you anything, but I'll try. I don't see it doing any good though…" she concedes, but still she doesn't look happy about it. And then quickly cleanses the pots over the sink before leaving, all the while with Remus quietly contemplating the dancing flames in the large stone fireplace.
::::::::::::::
When Remus goes looking for Sirius he is forced to think for a moment that he has finally found out a way to get out of the house definitively. But he does find him, eventually. He is sitting very still in the depths of the darkened study. He is brooding in silence. When normal people are upset, they tend to gesticulate and flail about, but Sirius's brain is wired backwards. When Sirius is upset, he goes very tense and still, a taut rope about to snap, and Merlin help the bystander who sets him off. When normal people are angry they shout and yell and curse. But Sirius' responses are clearly not that of a normal man, for although he shouts when mildly irritated, he dons a quiet contention and menacing quiet when absolutely mad. Like the foreboding of a hurricane.
Sirius fixes him with a glare as he enters. And Remus could think lots of things about it; that Sirius has been offended because he's tried to calm Molly when she's wrong in his views, or because he's come to disturb his brooding silence, or because he's acting as if he's going to explode any moment now… or could be any of the above, or none of them at all.
"You heard." he says. It is not a question, and he surprises himself with the certainty behind his words.
"It is my house." is his answer.
Remus wonders if Sirius realises how extremely cryptic and secretive he is being about everything in this house. How he acts as if he despises all this and then says something like this, which brings to the forefront that he is indeed a Black. No-one has been able to figure yet how the myriad of ward layers and protection spells truly work, and the rules of this magical property, only Sirius seems to fully comprehend it. The walls of Grimmauld Place, have eyes.
"She is just doing what she believes is best." he says warily.
"Molly needs to learn when to stop smothering him, Remus. I just remember what it's like at that age and it's not doing him any favours." he says. "And don't say I never grew up… for I can't remember what it was like to be a child in the first place.
"I know. She just wants to spare him any undue…" but Remus finds himself being interrupted by his friend.
"She is terribly narrow-minded… no better than half of those we fight." he snaps. "if you don't fit in her mould, her pattern of respectability then you can't be a good person. Fine! If I marry and have a bunch of bawling babies and find a boring stupid job, I will be most suited to tend for Harry? No matter how selfish I'm deep down…"
"You act rashly Sirius." he sighs. "That does nothing to appease her."
"I do not have to answer to her!" he says. "It's not as if she is ever in the frontline to dare judge the others. She is in a bloody kitchen in the dankest place on all England, where nobody has asked her to be!"
"Every little help we can get is important, Sirius; no matter how insignificant. That's why we are the Order…"
Silence hangs heavy between them. Sirius takes to gazing through a crack on the draperies by the window down onto the streets, where people come and go. Then Sirius stares at him evenly with his usual guarded expression securely in place. The pressure of his gaze makes Remus look away and shuffle his feet briefly, as he would've done when they were young. With his stormy eyes blazing and perfectly even features, his face speaks of ageless importance, the high curve of his cheekbones and brow, aristocratically faultless; he is the Lord of the House.
"I'm not going to risk Harry." he finally breaks the silence. "You know that." Remus almost smiles.
"I do know that." he answers solemnly.
"Don't you just know everything?" is Sirius' comeback, irritated by his friend's steadiness. It is selfish but he wants him to get angry too, so he is not alone in his anger anymore.
"That was unnecessarily bitter." Sirius doesn't answer at all and resumes staring away into the streets. "If you're going to be offended it might be better to say so, rather than getting sarcastic, Sirius. It doesn't help anyone." he says impatiently.
"Not if you're going to keep psychoanalyzing me, Dr Freud." he bites back.
"I am not…"
"You think you know me so bloody well…" he goes on. "Well, let me tell you something: you don't know me at all. It is most what you can't know about me and my past that what you bloody well damn know!"
"That was over the top! I haven't done anything but defend you!" he shouts back at him.
"Then you lot better stop trying to fix me!" he shouts back. "I don't need anyone else digging around in my head while I'm still trying to get it straight. I'm not mad!"
"I thought so, although I'm starting to doubt it now… Maybe I don't know you… because I'm being far too nice. Do you want to see where you went wrong in the head? Go to the damn bathroom and look into a mirror! Do I need say more?"
The stare doesn't waver, and now standing at his full height, Sirius would be menacing to anyone else. Anyone else who was not Remus Lupin. In fact the defiant attitude is almost reassuring. It comes back to familiar terrain.
"Don't bring them into this." is the only answer.
"Don't act like them." he says.
Silence stretches once more before Sirius passes by him, and Remus sighs. The fact is that, emphatic rants and blunt honesty aside, Sirius isn't a talker when it comes to whatever the hell he is feeling. Not now, not ever. He bottles things up and lets it all build up silently until it all goes over the top, like just now and, he can tell, one needs loads of experience to withstand one of these outbursts.
"I feel as if I'm back at the beginning without no progress whatsoever." Sirius suddenly comments. "I'm still responsible for a big state, which is no little work without considering it is rundown, I have my own family to care about, people doesn't trust me despite I've given everything I have to help the cause… is there any more dirt that can still be piled over me?"
"I don't know. I think we all feel a bit like that." he comments quietly. "I am tired, Padfoot..." Sirius seems to startle at the sudden use of the familiar long-forgotten nickname. "More tired than you could ever know." he whispers sadly.
Sirius' face breaks out into a pained imitation of his old charming smirk as he lets out a bark like laugh.
"Want to make a bet, Moony? I haven't slept properly in almost fifteen years..." his voice trails off. "I'm sorry, you can probably relate just fine." he says with a sad smile.
And Remus doesn't know if he should be elated he has torn away an apology from Sirius, an event to be marked in the calendar for the posterity; or terribly sad at the way laughter fills away from Sirius as water from a punctured bag. His barking laugh is always filled with a bitter undertone quite difficult to miss. His mind and his mouth know the sounds, the motions, but his heart isn't in it anymore.
He claps his friend's shoulder as he leaves, he knows when his presence is not needed nor wanted anymore. And he closes the door behind him.