For the two days while Sirius sleeps, Remus tries to get through some of the work he's brought with him, but he finds it very difficult to concentrate. He spends a few hours with his head in the fireplace, visiting with Harry and his parents.

Remus is sure most parents think this about their children, but Harry is truly a delight. He is working on simple math now, and his reading is improving rapidly. He's sweet, sometimes shy, but if you get him on the right subject (quidditch, magical creatures), he will talk for hours. When Harry first came to live with Remus, he was so quiet and unsmiling it was worrying, but he blossomed under Remus' attention, which Remus found great comfort in. When he thinks of those early years, it's almost like he's seeing two entirely different people, as though Harry the Toddler and Remus the 23-year-old were neighbors who have since moved away.

When Sirius finally emerges, it is minutes after Remus climbed out of the fireplace. He was visiting Harry during lunch and promised he would be home soon. Remus is sitting at the table with a book and parchment upon which he is supposed to be taking notes. He looks up as Sirius walks into the kitchen and wonders how he's going to make that promise to Harry true. Sirius is in a set of Remus' clothes, jeans and an old grey sweater despite the warmth of the June day.

"Um… hey," Sirius says quietly.

"Hey," Remus responds. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh… hungry?"

"Oh," Remus says, surprised to get an answer he can actually do something about, and pleased that Sirius has an appetite at all. He pulls his papers together, making room. "Sit. I can make you something."

Sirius sits obediently, eyes on the table top, hands folded in his lap. It would be hard for him to look less like the person Remus remembers, but he'll take this for now. This is far better than the shaking, chained prison of four days ago.

Remus rises and makes eggs, toast, bacon and a pot of coffee. (He is very grateful to his mum for stocking the kitchen.) He returns to the table with two plates, deciding this can be his lunch as well.

He doesn't press conversation because he figures Sirius must be too hungry, but then he notices that after his first forkful, Sirius is hardly picking at his food.

"Do you want something else?" he asks. His voice rings falsely bright in his own ears.

Sirius jumps. "Oh, no," he says. "It just…" He sighs, sounds exasperated, which is weirdly reassuring. "It just feels really rich or something. I know it's not."

Remus frowns. "What have you been eating?"

"Don't know," Sirius mumbles. "Uh… How long was I asleep?"

"Um… Day and a half? Give or take."

"Oh."

"Though, speaking of the time," Remus says. "We should be giving my parents' back their house soon. Take Harry off their hands."

Sirius pales a little at the mention of Harry, but there's none of the panic in his face that Remus saw the other day. Remus takes this as a minor good sign.

"Does that sound alright?" he asks.

Sirius shrugs. "I don't exactly have anywhere to be."

"You're welcome there as long as - as you need, want," Remus says a little clumsily.

Sirius looks at him, holds his gaze for a long moment. Remus tries to return it steadily, unsure of what Sirius is looking for.

"Can I ask something?" Sirius says.

Remus blinks and his stomach swoops with dread at the possibilities. "'Course."

"What does… what does Harry know about me?"

"Oh, uh… He knows you were friends with his parents, with me," he says, though 'friend' is decidedly not the right word for the two of them. "I said you were in prison and shouldn't have been. I-um..."

He's struggling here because he expects Sirius to say something like 'When did you figure that out, that I shouldn't have been in there?' but he doesn't. Remus knows those conversations will be painful, but he knows they have to happen, and feels like he deserves Sirius' anger. Sirius right now, though, doesn't react, so Remus continues.

"I've told him, you know, what felt appropriate for a six-year-old. He knows his parents are gone, but I-uh, I try to tell him about them a lot. He loves hearing about them," he says gently. "I told him you'd have more stories, which he's excited about, when you… feel up to that. He knows you'll be staying for a while."

"Okay," Sirius says quietly.

It is very obvious that Sirius isn't ready for any of this, but Remus can't keep them both locked up here, as much as part of him wants to. He needs to get back to Harry. He thinks briefly of taking his mum up on her offer for Sirius to stay on here, with them, but that sounds bad to him, too. He feels instinctively that Sirius is his to take care of as much as Harry is.

He wants to reach across the table and take Sirius' hand, wants to brush his hair out of his face. But Sirius is radiating discomfort, he looks like he wants to disappear.

"Would you be up for going back tomorrow, maybe?" Remus asks.

"Sure. Isn't it nearly the moon, anyway?"

Remus is briefly dumbfounded by the fact that Sirius knows when the full moon is, when he doesn't seem to know what day it is. "Um, yeah. There's still that barn at my parents' - well, my house - so that's… Harry stays with friends."

"Oh… Okay."

Remus wonders if Sirius is going to offer to stay with him through the moon as Padfoot, but he doesn't. Remus can't tell if Sirius recognizes he isn't strong enough for that, or if he just doesn't want to. He hesitates and changes the subject.

"Um, I should maybe… Just sort of a heads up - uh… You remember as a baby, Harry looked a lot like James?"

Sirius swallows audibly, twists his hands a little. "Yeah," he says quietly.

Remus nods, his head feels light. "Yeah. I just… It's a little startling, honestly, how much he looks like him, but… Um. I mean, he's his own person, he's not so much like James, otherwise," he goes on, pushing through James' name because they have to talk about him in front of Harry. "He can be kind of shy, don't-um, don't take it personally."

"What is he like, then?" Sirius asks.

"Bit quiet, happier with a book sometimes," Remus says. "Bright. Friendly. Good little flyer, too. Not much of a trouble maker, though that might just be in comparison to the Weasley twins…"

"Who?"

"Molly and Arthur Weasley's boys? Um, Gid and Fay's nephews?"

Sirius nods in vague recognition.

"We've got something of a homeschooling group going - me and the Weasleys and the Lovegoods. They're nearby, invited us in… I wasn't sure about it at first, but it's been nice, I'm rubbish at teaching maths, even to a six year old, Molly's had a lot more practice and I'm better with reading... Anyway, the twins are just troublemakers, they're a few years older than Harry." He feels a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You'd like them."

"Oh?"

"Mm. You know that powdered putty for filling a gap in a wall? Like you shoot augmenti at it and it expands and fills the gap?"

Sirius, who always retained enough blue blood sensibilities to avoid home repair projects, shrugs in acknowledgement that this probably exists.

"Well, you'd usually use about a teaspoon for a centimeter hole. They swapped a whole tub in for Arthur's pancake mix last Sunday. He poured a pitcher of water in and it just mushroomed up like - I've never seen anything like it. Molly had to call me to come help chip him off the counter. Took us half the morning."

There are hints of amusement in Sirius' face, a slight turn up at the corner of his mouth, a light in his eyes like at least he's tracking the conversation, so Remus follows this path. He tells stories about Molly and Arthur's kids, about Xeno and Pandora's Luna. Sirius is distracted enough by this inane chatter to eat more of the food in front of him.

It's not great. But it's better.

Remus chooses to apparate them back to his house. He hasn't seen Sirius do any magic - he doesn't even have a wand - and though he's trying not to hover and coddle Sirius, he can't avoid the conclusion that this is safer than trying to Floo. It's morning, just after 8 o'clock, when they go outside. Sirius puts a very obviously reluctant hand on Remus' shoulder and releases him the moment they hit the ground.

They have traveled several hundred miles and the weather is different here. They've traded sunshine for an overcast sky. The home is a rambling old farm house, passable as a muggle construction if you don't know what you're looking at. It sits on the edge of rock-walled fields, a barn behind it and a dark forest in the distance. It looks like all the lights are on, and Remus thinks his mum has done this in welcome.

He glances back at Sirius, who is eyeing the place warily. He's been here before, back during the summer before sixth year. It was the only time all of Remus' friends had been here together. After they'd graduated, Remus had kept his distance, not wanting to risk drawing Order-related violence into his parents' garden.

Remus is anxious to see Harry, but he takes a beat, waits for Sirius to catch his eye.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine."

Remus doubts this but walks toward the house, anyway, and is relieved when Sirius follows him. Remus opens the door and heads toward the sound and movement in the kitchen. His mum is sitting at the table with Harry, his dad is washing the dishes. Harry smiles immediately as Remus enters the room.

"Moony!" Harry says happily.

Remus smiles and ignores the part of his brain that realizes he forgot to tell Sirius about his nickname lingering on like this. When he'd finally seen Harry as a 2-year-old, the little boy had called him "Moony," simultaneously breaking and mending his heart.

"Morning, love," Remus says, walking around the table to hug Harry crookedly in his chair. "Have fun with Nanny and Granda?"

"Yeah! Went out hunting nargles."

"Aha. Was Luna over?"

"Mhm."

Harry's affirmative answer is quiet, he's caught sight of Sirius. Sirius is in the kitchen doorway, leaning on one side of the frame with his arms crossed self-consciously. He looks a little pale and gives Harry a slightly forced smile.

"Harry," says Remus, "you remember I said my friend was gonna stay with us for a bit? This is Sirius. Say hello?"

Harry is nearly six but sometimes seems younger when confronted with strangers. "Hello," he mumbles.

"Hey, kid," Sirius says quietly.

Harry turns shyly, pressing his face into Remus' arm. Sirius looks to Remus immediately, seeking approval, and Remus smiles at him, feels something warming in his chest. Sirius looks away first.

"Sirius," Remus' mother says, stepping forward. Remus notices she already has their bags packed and waiting by the door. "I… it's good to see you."

Her feelings of guilt are, to Remus, nearly palpable. He knows she never exactly approved of Sirius, thought him arrogant and cold and had her misgivings proven violently correct when he'd been arrested. She wants to make it better, but she's a quiet person, and she's unlikely to say much more than she's saying right now.

His father, too, is nearly non-verbal faced with Sirius. He does, however, reach forward to shake his hand. It takes Sirius a beat to react to the offered handshake, but he does reach back, even if he doesn't quite meet his eye. Remus is relieved when they leave a few short minutes later.

Harry, as usual, gives Remus something to focus on. He sits next to the little boy, helping himself to leftover pancakes and quizzing Harry on his nargle hunting. He looks up at Sirius, mutely indicating he should help himself to breakfast. Sirius frowns in an uncertain way that Remus reads (correctly) as doubt that he's wanted there. Remus responds with a look that means Don't be stupid, sit.

Harry watches Sirius as he joins them at the table and picks at pancakes. He doesn't bother with a plate, just tears off bits of dry pancakes from the platter with his fingers.

"You don't like pancakes?" Harry asks incredulously. He has apparently noticed the same mild expression of dislike that Remus is watching.

Sirius blinks and looks at Harry. "Um… they're very sweet," he says quietly.

"Do you like pancakes, Harry?" Remus says, when it's clear Sirius isn't going to say anything more.

Harry looks at him, looking slightly confused but smiling, too. This is important information, and he knows Remus knows the answer. "They're my favorite!"

"I thought pizza was your favorite."

"Pizza's my favorite dinner food," Harry explains. "Pancakes are my favorite breakfast food."

"Ah," Remus says seriously. "But what about pancakes at dinner time?"

"No," Harry says. "That's silly."

"Silly? But we had them just recently," Remus reminds him. "Remember the twins' birthday dinner?"

Harry looks momentarily stunned by this clever argument. "That was a birthday," he finally counters, as though this is flawless logic.

The rest of the morning carries on in the pleasant, formless way. Harry seems to accept Sirius' silent presence fairly quickly, and follows Remus around, talking happily about the last couple days, recounting adventures with friends, trying to persuade Remus to sit down to a game of checkers. Sirius alternates between watching them and looking out the window at the fields. When Remus shows him to the guest room, Sirius shuts himself in, mumbling about sleep and Remus is left looking at the closed door.

Sirius POV

After five years of reliving that terrible night in Godric's Hollow, Sirius thought he knew what grief felt like. In Azkaban it was an endless horror, all his worst moments replaying themselves in his head, accompanied by feelings of guilt and shame that threatened to swallow him whole.

But as days pass and he gets enough food and sleep for his mind to start functioning, he discovers that grief hurts in a whole new way now that it's been given context and contrast. In Azkaban he couldn't actually think about his lost friends too much. There was of course the horror of their deaths, but there weren't that many bad memories with them, so Lily and James had faded in there, like shadows at twilight.

But the good memories are within reach again and he wants them to be comforting, but they're not. They cut into Sirius whenever he lets his guard down, whenever his mind isn't carefully, rigidly blank. Harry looks at him and his green eyes summon a thought of his mother teasing Sirius over breakfast in the Great Hall. Most memories of Lily burst apart quickly, though, and Sirius turns away from them, hurting like he's looked too long at the sun.

But James…

Everything summons James to mind - Harry, of course, but also a sunny day that would be nice for flying, orange juice, his favorite book on Remus' shelf. But in the place where James should be in Sirius' head there's a monster instead, a James who screams and rages and hates him. When a memory of James surfaces, that anger bursts through to replace it. Sirius avoids that ferocious darkness at all costs, but James Potter is so tied up in Sirius' understanding of the world and who he is that he knows he can't keep him at arms length for long.

Sirius emerges from these tangled memories in a cold sweat, breathing too quickly. Remus is usually looking at him or just turning away, his face creased with concern, his eyes downturned and sad. But he stays. A few times he gives Sirius a do you want to talk about it look that Sirius pretends not to see.

Remus.

There's a Remus in Sirius' head, too, one who hates him almost as much as James does. One who shouts about loss and betrayal. This is terribly easy to conjure - the fights the two of them had toward the end were hideous things the dementors seemed to enjoy dragging up. It's incredible the pain you can inflict on someone who's let you see them at their most vulnerable.

Sirius' battered psyche tries to get a grip on the fact that Remus isn't actually doing that. Remus is giving him tea. Remus set up a room for him. He's drawing baths and offering food and handing over his nicest sweaters. He's different - adult and self-sufficient in a way that makes Sirius feel like a child - but he's still Remus in essential ways, still meeting Sirius' stony silences with patience. Remus just wants him to feel safe, but Sirius can't afford that, doesn't want to let his guard down. He's sure that if he does, he'll fall apart.

But days roll by in stops and starts and the Remus in front of him continues being gentle and kind. The other, furious Remus loses some power.

Maybe if Sirius can believe that the Remus in his head is wrong, he can banish that version of James, too. So despite the self preservation impulse that tells him to flee from the pain Remus' kindness sets off, he makes himself stay.