The first thing Remus saw upon entering Grimmauld Place was a flash of dark brown skin and bushy brown hair whipping around a corner. At the sound of him closing the front door the hair whipped around again, revealing the startled face of Hermione Granger, who was just about to make her way upstairs.
"Oh! Professor Lupin, it's good to see you," she said in a half whisper, glancing nervously at the covered portrait beside her. Apparently she was already familiar with the Lady of the house. Poor girl.
She took a few steps closer to him, straightening her posture and plastering on a very polite smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"You know, you don't have to call me professor anymore, but it is very good to see you too, Hermione," he said, glancing around to see if there were any other teenagers lingering in the background. Where there was one, there was usually others. "Do you know where Sirius is, by any chance?" he inquired, so calm and friendly as if he hadn't spent the last few days desperately trying to work up the courage to see him. He'd even brought gifts as something of a distraction. He held two shopping bags in his hand.
The forced smile melted off Hermione's face and all that was left was worry. "Actually, it's good you're here, Professor," she said as if she hadn't even heard him suggest dropping the title. "He's up in his room…"
Remus put all of his energy into keeping a reassuring demeanor. "What's wrong? Has something happened?" he asked gently.
"I heard Mr and Mrs Weasley saying they were going to send you an owl if it wasn't better by tomorrow, but I think it's good you're here now," she said, tugging at the hems of her sleeves absently. "He hasn't been out of his room for two and a half days. It's all warded so nobody can get in. Ron and I tried-" she stopped short. Remus just nodded encouragingly. "We tried to break the wards," she said sheepishly. "He won't talk to anyone, and when I got here the day before that, he was acting strangely."
"Alright. Thank you for filling me in. I'm sure he's okay, but I'll go figure it out, so try not to worry," he assured her.
He was halfway up the stairs before he realized she was following him. He didn't stop her.
When they got to Sirius' room, he pulled out his wand and waved it over the door frame wordlessly. A webbing of glowing blue and green lines appeared on the door, an outline of Sirius' wards. Remus was rather impressed with how effective they were given that the only wand he currently had in his possession was the one he'd picked up on the run, which was clumsy at best. He must have been determined.
He was fine when Remus left. He seemed to have taken the little revelation about Remus' past remarkably well.
He turned to Hermione. "He's put a silencing charm on the door, so try not to take it personally that he hasn't been responding to you," he explained. "I think it might be for the best if I talk to him alone," he said gently but firmly.
She looked almost a little offended for a moment, then nodded. She moved to go back downstairs reluctantly.
"Just a moment," Remus stopped her. "You should watch this. You and your friends have a tendency to get into places you're not supposed to be. You might as well know how to do it right," he said with a small smile.
"I started reading a lot about anti-muggle warding after the World Cup last year," she said with the familiar spark of excitement that she always carried into topics of learning. "Hogwarts is the most heavily protected magical location in the UK according to Hogwarts, A History. I practiced them a bit last year and I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."
"Warding against other magical folk is a bit of a different beast. Each witch or wizard will have their own signature. It's like any other lock. It has to be unique. Nobody but you and those you trust should ever have the key," he said, to which she nodded, wide eyed. "Just like any other lock, though, someone with enough skill can eventually pick it."
Remus turned back to the door, running his wand over it. He gave brief explanations of what he was doing, making sure to name the spell work so she knew what to search for in the library later, as he was certain she would. He quickly realized that these wards were familiar to him. They were much the same as the ones that used to protect his and Sirius' old flat.
Of course they were.
Remus couldn't help but feel like it was an invitation. Sirius would surely have predicted he would make short work of something so familiar. Or perhaps Sirius simply never updated his wards. When would he have had the chance to learn?
Either way, if the man on the other side of the door was conscious and aware, then he would know full well that Remus was trying to get in and he was clearly doing nothing to fight it.
If he was conscious.
"Professor Lupin, are you alright?" asked Hermione nervously.
Oh. He had almost forgotten she was there. He hadn't even realized that he had stopped talking. With a flick of his wrist the last of the wards fell. He turned to Hermione and smiled kindly.
"I'm fine, but best you leave this next part to me," he said gently.
Hermione recognized the dismissal but remained reluctant to leave. She glanced between Remus and the door apprehensively.
"Hermione, I know you're used to being the one to charge through doors while the adults sit back, but this isn't your responsibility. Sirius will be fine and I'm sure he'll appreciate knowing how much you wanted to help," he said, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder.
She bit her lower lip unconsciously but nodded once before standing up and making her way down the stairs. She continued glancing back frequently until she was out of sight. He wouldn't put it past her to come back with one of the many little spyware contraptions that had been causing so much strife between Molly and the twins. He'd make sure to put another silencing charm on the door.
The first thing he noticed when he opened entered the room was the smell.
Sirius had a rather stately en suite attached to his bedroom with one of the most ornate baths Remus had ever seen.
It was apparent that he had not been using it.
Sirius was sat on the floor, wrapped up in a stained old bathrobe and nothing else. The room looked as if it had been hit by a small but powerful cyclone. Papers, clothing, knick knacks all scattered about like so much detritus. He didn't even glance up, particularly captivated by whatever lay on the floor directly in front of where he sat, cross legged and hunched over, tangled curls falling across his face.
Remus kicked the door shut behind him, flicking his wand back without even a glance, casting a charm to ensure their privacy. He dropped the shopping bags by the door. Sirius still didn't look up as Remus knelt down in front of him. It was only in that moment he noticed that the things scattered on the floor were a series of photographs, taken from an old album that now lay tossed aside and bare.
"Do you remember this?" asked Sirius without warning, still staring down as he moved a single, slender finger to rest on one photo in particular.
"Yes," breathed Remus, glad that Sirius wasn't looking at him to see the tears that sprung immediately to his eyes. He swiped them away, composing himself quickly.
The photograph in question was of their old share house from the first year out of Hogwarts, before they'd all found separate homes. The two of them sat on the couch, Sirius half sat on his lap. Beside them sat James, Lily, Marlene and Dorcas, all piled onto the couch, laughing and waving at the camera. The young Remus took a swig from a glass, ruffling Sirius's oh so perfect hair with his other hand as he tried to push him away playfully.
At the edge of the couch was a gouged-out hole that Remus knew once contained Peter. Many of the other photos had been similarly defaced.
Remus furrowed his brow. He gathered up the pictures that were strewn about until they were all laid out in front of him neatly. He scanned them quickly, trying not to linger too long on any one image, feeling himself getting lost in them.
"I don't even know where they came from," said Sirius, finally glancing up at Remus. His eyes were bloodshot. "There was a box of old things tucked into the back corner of the cupboard. Things from long after I left this place."
Remus sighed. "I left a lot behind when I left the flat. Couldn't stand to go through any of your possessions. I suppose when they foreclosed on the property it all just went to your next of kin."
"Why?" asked Sirius, staring at Remus searchingly. "Why would they have kept any of it? Why wouldn't they have burned it or tossed it away like they did all other traces of me from their lives?"
A beat. Quiet desperation. Remus wished he could give Sirius thee answer that he knew some deep down, very young part of him wished to hear, but he couldn't lie to him like that.
"I suppose for the same reason your room looks the same as it did when you were fifteen," posited Remus. "The same reason they left a scorched hole in your place on that tapestry rather than just covering it up."
"What, mother was struck with a sudden sentimental streak in her old age?" suggested Sirius sarcastically, every word dripping with poison.
"Maybe," said Remus quietly, leaving just a moment for the almost comforting thought to live before dismissing it with cold, hard reality. "Or maybe they had to keep the memory of you here because you can't hate something when you're pretending it never existed."
Sirius scoffed. "Well, if there's one thing we know about my parents, it's that the decrepit, misanthropic bastards would have never passed up a chance to hate."
Remus hummed, halfway between an agreement and commiseration. They both looked back down at the photos. Remus stared at the smiling faces. James and Lily curled up together on a picnic blanket. The four of them dancing in their old flat next to a gouged-out hole that once contained someone they should have never let into their home. He brushed his hand over the top of them all, imagining for just a moment he could reach in and pull his lost friend into the world again.
His fingers lingered as he came upon a picture of Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadows. Dorcas had her arms wrapped around Marlene from behind. She whispered something into Marlene's ear, causing the sardonic young woman to roll her eyes, then break into an unwilling smile as Marlene kissed her cheek.
It was as they started acting it out again that Remus felt a hand on his shoulder. He shook his head, wiping under his eyes as he realized they were watering again. He looked up at Sirius and smiled in weak reassurance, shrugging Sirius' hand away.
Sirius reached down, picking up the photo Remus had been looking at. "After Marley… after what happened to her, and then to Dory… I didn't think it was possible to feel a deeper kind of grief. How naïve," he said bitterly.
"Nobody talks about them. Everyone talks about James and Lily, there's no escaping it. I had to leave the country just to get away from it. And so they should," he added. "But nobody ever talks about Marley and Dory. I bet the kids have never even heard their names. It's like the war ended and they never existed."
"It would have been him," growled Sirius. "That filthy rat. That's how they found the McKinnon's."
Sirius put the photo back down a little harder than was necessary. He looked away a second, biting back a rising anger. He looked back down at the photos, hand immediately going to a new one and handing it to Remus.
"The night they told us they were pregnant with Harry," he said, not even having looked at the photo. He'd clearly been studying them intently. "About an hour before the girls had that fight. You were off your tits that night," he said matter-of-factly.
Remus held the picture, taking in every detail. They were all a gathered around the table together, a delicious looking spread in the middle. They each held a glass, raising their hands over the meal to clink them together, the word 'cheers' bursting silently across all their lips, though he swore he could hear every one of their voices, bright as daylight.
"You know, that night was the first time anyone ever accused me of having a problem. That really should've been the end of it. Dory was never wrong about anything, don't know why any of us ever thought that would be the one exception," he said with a raised eyebrow.
"Lily believed her. She talked about it all the time when you weren't around, especially later."
"Trust me, she talked about when I was around, too. All these amazing women we had in our lives, each of them alone smarter than the rest of us were combined. I was just talking to Hermione out there. She reminds me of Dory sometimes. Same brilliance. Same heart. Same rebellious streak bubbling just below the surface."
Sirius hummed in agreement. "You know you have a drink in every single one of these pictures?" he asked, bringing the topic back around.
A beat.
"You're right." Every single picture was from the time between leaving Hogwarts until just about year before the end of the war, by which point nobody had much interest in taking pictures anymore. And in every single one, Remus had a drink of some kind or another in his hand.
"I never noticed it back then. It was all right there. I don't know why that was always such a blind spot for me," said Sirius, looking up at Remus.
"We both had a lot of blind spots," said Remus sadly. "Besides, you were hardly an ambassador for sobriety yourself," Remus joked, a small attempt to break the mournful milieu that Sirius seemed to have been stewing in for days.
"Are you calling me a drunk?" he said, apparently completely unaware how his current state undercut the attempted playfulness of the question.
Remus just looked pointedly at the space under Sirius' bed. Sirius' followed his gaze, drawing out a scoff and an eyeroll as he saw what Remus was staring at.
He'd noticed it as soon as he sat down, the two empty wine bottles discarded beneath the mahogany bed along with some other mess. He was willing to bet there were more shoved into draws or cupboards or somewhere else out of sight.
"I'm bored, Moony. How much do you think there is to do in this fucking house?"
"I understand that."
"Then stop giving me that look," spat Sirius, crossing his arms defensively. "Unlike you, I actually know how to stop."
"Sure." agreed Remus. "But will you?"
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Shut up," he said petulantly.
"How long has it been since you've eaten? Slept? You look almost as bad as when you were on the run," said Remus bluntly.
"I don't know, not that long," he said with a dismissive hand wave.
"Hermione said you haven't left your room for days."
"I…" Sirius looked taken aback. "That's not true," he said uncertainly.
"You had your wards up. They were all about one more day from just blasting the door open."
"Oh." Sirius looked back down at the photos. He stared at them, eyes glossing over. "It's just… he was there. He was in there with them. Laughing like he was their friend. I had to fix it this time," he finished in almost a whisper.
Once again Remus felt his eyes begin to water as his stomach dropped. "You can't fix it Sirius. They're already dead and we can't stop it no matter how much we wish it to be so. There are people who need you here and now. Living, breathing people."
"Nobody needs me," he bit back. "I can't do anything more here than I could in fucking prison!"
"Those kids need you. They look up to you more than almost anyone. Harry needs you." Remus took a steadying breath. "Pads, I need you."
"Nobody needs me rotting in this house."
Remus hesitated. He needed to get Sirius out of this room.
"Well, as long as we're in agreement then," he said with an abrupt shift in tone that seemed to catch Sirius off guard. "Can't do much about the house I'm afraid, but I think we can certainly keep the rot in check," chirped Remus, standing up and reaching a hand down to Sirius. He'd had enough time to wallow. "First step, take a fucking bath."
Sirius pursed his lips, grumbling a little, but he reached out and took Remus' hand, allowing himself to be pulled up.
As the bathroom door shut, Remus' shoulders dropped. He looked around at the room one more time. He was instantly, excruciatingly tired.
He picked up the waste basket that lay tipped on its side in front of the dresser. He vanished the contents and walked around the room, clearing the rubbish. He paused when he came back to the photos. Eventually, he knelt down, picking up the photo album. He started placing the pictures neatly back in their places.
He lingered just a little on each one. He didn't have keepsakes from the past. There were a few small things he'd put away in a lock box at Gringotts right after it happened. The rest was who knows where. He'd burned some of it. The things that made him think too much of Sirius.
Once again he found himself staring at the photo of Marlene and Dorcas.
He used to imagine what Marlene might say to him when he would wake up who knows where with no memory of the night before. Every time he picked up a needle after promising himself he was done. She never coddled him. She was blunt. Honest. She could speak to him in a way he would never tolerate from anyone else and she could do it because he knew she understood like nobody else did. They were the same in so many ways.
He put the photo in the album.
Sirius had been better than Remus feared he might be, but he knew well that it wasn't going to be so easy. He had been locked up for days with nothing but wine for sustenance. At some point in that time he had trashed the room. At some point in that time, he had hacked away all traces of Peter and he spoke as if he really thought the action could mean anything to the past.
That was always when he knew things were at their worst with Sirius. When he started losing track of time.
A bath and a hot meal weren't going to fix what was broken.
Still, it was a start.
He had mostly got the place tidy by the time Sirius emerged looking about ten years younger as he always did pretty much the instant he actually washed his hair. Sirius shuffled self-consciously, wrapped up in his still grimy robe.
He balked as Remus clicked his fingers suddenly, turning to the discarded shopping bags. He picked them up with one hand and shoved them into Sirius' arms.
"Clothes. So you can stop looking like a little boy playing dress up in his father's robes," he said with a grin.
Sirius took the bags, rummaging through them with his free hand. He met Remus' with a grin of his own as his came upon soft black leather. "You didn't! Remus, how can you even afford this?"
"I know some good second-hand shops," he lied. In fact, he had just ripped off the tags so that Sirius wouldn't feel bad about how much he'd spent. It was worth every cent for how excited he looked.
Sirius was still smiling wide, though he faltered slightly when he looked back at Remus, like he was just really registering for the first time that he was there. "How have you been?" he asked awkwardly. "When we last spoke you were- well-"
Sirius looked a little indignant as Remus laughed out loud at his concern. He hadn't meant to; it just came up. Truth was he had been a mess. He hadn't stopped stressing for even a moment about what he had accidentally admitted. About what Sirius must think of him.
Now, as he stood in front of Sirius, who was swaying slightly on the spot looking very much as if he could collapse from malnutrition at any moment, looking back at Remus with concern that was so painfully sincere. All of it suddenly seemed so hilariously insignificant.
He was so very used to the rest of the world looking down on people like him. People who done the things he'd done. He should've known from the start that Sirius isn't the rest of the world.
He never has been.
"I'm fine Pads," he assured him. "Get yourself ready. I'll see you downstairs for dinner." He stepped over to the door and opened it. "And don't even think about staying in here or I'll come back up and drag you down myself and we both know you're too sleep deprived to fight me right now."
A quick wink, then he left Sirius to get changed.
Remus was chatting with Bill, Ron, and Hermione while the rest of the Weasley's engaged in their usual combination of chatter and bickering that he had grown used to tuning out. Everyone stopped talking the moment Sirius entered the kitchen.
Worried glances very quickly turned to excited exclamations from the kids.
Ron and Hermione dashed over to Sirius, more than a little relieved to see him in the flesh once again. Sirius soaked in the praise as Ron, Ginny, and the twins all fawned over the new (old) look.
He was clad in black jeans and his new leather jacket and it was only then that Remus fully processed how much he had not looked himself until that very moment. Still a bit shaky, a bit weak, but it was Sirius. He looked more at ease then than he had at any time since Remus had first seen him in the Shrieking Shack.
"Go on Remi, ask him to the dance," said Bill, leaning in and speaking low enough that only Remus could hear.
"Excuse me?" asked Remus, shooting Bill a confused side eye.
"I mean if you're going to keep staring like a lovesick teenager, might as well act the part. If he doesn't want to go to the ball with you maybe a late-night picnic in the astronomy tower," Bill snickered.
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Remus evenly, silently cursing his stupid blush response. It was the one emotional tell he could never fully control. "You can be such a child sometimes."
"Relax, man," he drawled with a smarmy little smile. "You're secret is safe with me."
"You're just jealous that someone else can wear leather without looking like a fucking poser, you glorified bank teller," Remus jabbed back, unable to suppress a smirk at Bill's mock indignation.
"Remus Lupin!" hissed Molly, who neither of them had realized was now directly behind them, plates in hand, ready to set the table. "Such foul language! Directed at my son no less! I expect better from you," she tutted, setting down the plates forcefully, leaving Remus very glad that everyone's attention was on Sirius.
Remus was halfway to saying 'he started it' before he realized how ridiculous that would sound. He settled for an "Of course Molly, my apologies."
All heads turned to them as Bill instantly devolved into loud laughter. Sirius met Remus' eyes with a questioning, though amused look. Remus just shook his head and shrugged with what he hoped was a believable confusion of his own.
As everyone settled down, Remus couldn't quiet take his mind off how much better Sirius looked, especially if he ignored the way the clothes all hung a little too loose. The way everyone at the table kept giving him concerned glances that Sirius pretended not to notice.
He was beginning to wonder if leaving Sirius while he went to live back at home was as good an idea as he first believed. He still needed so much help that clearly nobody else was capable of giving.
None of his worries had disappeared. The last time they had lived together was a disaster. Even back at Remus' cottage, it had been difficult. Maybe it would be okay at Grimmauld Place. There was more space here. More people. They weren't kids anymore. They weren't together anymore, with all the awful expectation and co-dependence that went with it.
Maybe it would be fine. Maybe, just like his dramatic little confession about his past, he'd built it all up in his head as something bigger than it was. Sirius needed him. He wasn't well. Fuck he looked good in that jacket, though.
"Remi." He broke out of his reverie and turned to the person next to him who had spoken his name. Bill was giving him an infuriatingly smug look. "You're staring again, dude."
"Shut up," Remus mumbled grumpily, turning his attention to his food.
Fuck. He really was acting like a teenager. Shit. Shit shit this wasn't good at all. Not for anyone.
Fucking hell.