As Sirius spoke his eyes darted around constantly. Remus' shack was tucked away in the countryside and the sound of nature buzzed and chirped around them. Each sound seemed to draw Sirius' attention in equal measure.
Still, even as his eyes moved, his body kept very still and steady. He did not falter in his speech that sometimes crossed into rambling, littered with tangents and non sequiturs. It took a while to get to the end, but by the time Remus had finished his second cup of tea, he had finally got the full picture of the events that had taken place as the Triwizard Tournament came to a tragic close.
Once Sirius finished, they sat a moment at the little round table that constituted Remus' dining room and he took a moment to process the words and the horrible images that they conjured in his brain.
"Cedric was a good kid," said Remus softly after a time. "He had every reason in the world to be arrogant, but he wasn't. He was always kind," he finished sadly.
"I didn't even think about that. He was your student. Remus I'm so sorry," said Sirius, sounding rather frustrated with himself. "Stupid, always forgetting the bits that matter."
He stood up abruptly, placing one hand on his forehead as he paced back and forth a little.
"Sirius, it's alright," said Remus, concerned. "Harry's the one who had to… I'm hardly the person you need to worry about here."
"Do you have anything to drink?" asked Sirius, turning to Remus suddenly.
"Water, more tea? I can do coffee, but I don't think you need it."
"No, I meant-"
"I know what you meant. No, I don't have anything," said Remus flatly.
"Oh," responded Sirius a little awkwardly. "Good for you."
"Surprised?"
"No. Maybe a bit," said Sirius, eyeing him thoughtfully.
"I'm sorry this particular hideout doesn't offer a cocktail menu," said Remus with a deceptive pleasantness.
"I didn't mean anything by it, Remus. I could just use something to calm my nerves a bit. That's all."
"It's fine," he said quickly. "You should try to sleep. You must be exhausted."
Sirius shut his mouth tight, looking Remus up and down. He seemed to have more questions but accepted the dismissal for what it was. Remus got up and took out his wand, transfiguring the small sofa in the corner of the room into a passable bed. He walked into the bedroom and grabbed a spare blanket.
"It's not much, but it should be comfortable," said Remus as he placed the blanket on the bed.
"Well, it's no filthy cave floor, but I'll make do," Sirius joked.
They stared for a moment, the air between them thick with discomfort. Things had been easy in the heat of the moment at Hogwarts. It was all adrenaline and passion and revelation. After Sirius' comments, Remus was suddenly acutely aware of how things had been the last time they'd seen each other before the first war ended.
The first war. Because Voldemort was back now. There was going to be another war and they were going to be a part of it. Them and Harry and all those other kids who their friends had all fought, and died, to protect from ever seeing such things.
He knew it was coming. The signs had all been there for years, growing ever stronger. It didn't make it any easier to accept that it had finally happened.
"Right. Goodnight then," said Remus, before retreating into his room and closing the door.
He didn't sleep at all. For a while he heard some shuffling around in the living space but it eventually stopped, leaving him to lie awake with no distractions from his thoughts.
How long was this arrangement supposed to stand? The last time they had lived together it had… not ended well. Of course, that was different. They were together then. In love. Younger than they would ever be again and breaking under a pressure that in retrospect would become a simpler time they long to return to. Then he spent nearly thirteen years hating Sirius with every fiber of his being and hating himself for ever having cared for him in the first place.
Ever since he saw Peter's name on the Marauders Map he had been adjusting his world view, scouring through every thought and feeling of betrayal to write it all anew. Somehow it seemed easier to leave those feelings behind when Sirius wasn't standing there in front of him, wild eyed and so unlike the man he remembered, asking him for a fucking drink.
Fuck he could use a drink.
No. No good could come of indulging thoughts like that.
He could hardly blame Sirius for not knowing what to do or say. Remus certainly didn't know how to proceed. And after everything Sirius had been through. He couldn't imagine how an experience like that could change a person. It was no wonder he seemed a little erratic. He'd thought about it constantly this past year, and every time he felt his heart breaking. Twelve years in that nightmare. Nobody could come out of something like that the same as they went in. His letters had seemed to indicate as much, and they barely scratched the surface.
He felt sick to his stomach as he turned it over in his mind.
Voldemort was back. Voldemort was back and he was after Harry. Sirius was back and he was in his home. None of it felt real. Even as he lay awake, Remus was not entirely certain he wasn't dreaming. He couldn't tell if it was a nightmare or not.
It was early light when he heard the sound of scraping and banging coming from somewhere in the other room. He let it go on for a while until the smell of coffee finally tempted him from his swirling mess of thoughts and feelings.
"You look a wreck," said Sirius, glancing up as he entered the room, and Remus struggled not laugh at the irony of that statement from the man who hadn't seemed to have showered for months. "Did you sleep at all?"
"I was sleeping quite well before someone showed up at my door and woke me up in middle of the night," quipped Remus as he walked past Sirius in the kitchen to pour himself some coffee.
Sirius continued as he was before Remus entered, digging through the pantry and pulling out various food items. There were utensils and pans strewn across the bench.
"What are you doing?" asked Remus tiredly.
"Making breakfast. Don't you have any food other than rice?" he asked.
"Sit down," instructed Remus. "I'll sort it."
Sirius threw up his hands in frustration and parked himself at the dining table with a huff. Remus wandered over to the front door and disappeared outside. He returned two minutes later with two fresh tomatoes and few eggs. Sirius raised an eyebrow at him.
"You keep chickens?"
"And plants. Cuts down on cost," he explained, heading to the kitchen and preparing the things he needed.
"What about your transformations?"
"There's a neighbor a few miles down the road who takes them those nights. Nice old lady, doesn't ask questions. I help her out around the house sometimes," he said as he sliced the tomatoes and heated the fry pan.
'How very domestic. I never would have imagined you living outside the city again after you left your dad's," said Sirius, staring at him curiously.
Remus cracked the eggs into the sizzling pan, followed by the tomato slices. He pulled out a packet of bread from the pantry and dropped two slices into the toaster.
"It's fairly recent. I think I like it, though. It's quiet. Nobody bothers me."
"Since when do you like quiet?"
"I only like some kinds," said Remus, and he pulled out his wand and pointed it over to the corner of the room where a record player sat on a shelf. It turned on and the ethereal vocals of Jeff Buckley floated gently into the room.
Sirius sucked in a sharp breath. He listened silently, eyes closed tightly as the first song played to a close and transitioned into the titular Grace.
"I like this," said Sirius softly, his eyes watering a little.
"Music has changed a lot since you've been gone," said Remus, placing two plates of toast, tomato, and eggs onto the table before taking a seat. "It's the one thing I've let myself spend on," he said gesturing to the stack of records on the shelf next to the player. "We'll have to catch you up."
Sirius smiled at that. A genuine, actual smile that seemed to take ten years off his face in an instant. Remus' breath hitched a little. He looked almost like the Sirius he knew.
Sirius picked up a fork and poked at the food skeptically. Remus watched on, amused as he finally took a bite, face screwed up in anticipation of something unpleasant. As soon as the food was in his mouth, his whole face relaxed. He closed his eyes again, savoring the taste.
"What the hell happened to you, Moony? Since when can you cook?" asked Sirius incredulously.
"Had to learn. I'm not the gourmet chef my father was, but I do alright," Remus said with a hint of pride.
"Lyall would be proud," declared Sirius.
Remus smiled warmly at that. Sirius returned it. After a moment they both looked away, Remus clearing his throat uncomfortably. They continued to eat in silence but for the sound of the music.
