Joni Mitchell sang sweetly over the melodic strumming of an acoustic guitar. The bitter, enticing scent of coffee mingled in the air with the salty bacon sizzle and pleasantly buttery omelettes. Remus was alone in the truly quiet house, a feat only possible in the earliest hours of the morning. He hadn't been cooking much while he was at Grimmauld Place. The kitchen was Molly's domain, and she didn't seem inclined to have it any other way, for as much as she complained about the lack of help she was generally unwilling to relinquish control.

He didn't mind. She was a caretaker by nature, and he was more than happy to enjoy the spoils of her work. Not that he would ever have a choice. He'd really given up on the idea that he would ever look healthy another day in his life but that would not stop Molly trying to feed him until he did.

Today, though, was special. It was the last full day Harry and the rest of the kids would be in the house until the holidays. It's something his father used to do the day he left for school. He would make a big, elaborate breakfast, throw on a favorite album, and say with his food what he could never say with words. They weren't actually leaving for Hogwarts until the next day, but he suspected there was likely to be far too much chaos that morning for a full, sit down breakfast.

He figured everyone in the house could use a little extra love right now. As delighted as they were that Harry's legal troubles had been sorted and he would not be facing expulsion, the news had been bittersweet, particularly with the news of Hermione and Ron's appointments as Prefects. Remus was really starting to wonder what the hell Dumbledore was trying to do to the boy, who seemed more frustrated and angry than ever, as much as he tried to hide it.

Two sets of footsteps interrupted his peace, right on cue. The mornings always unfolded in a particular order and Remus was fully prepared.

"Remus!" exclaimed Molly as her and Arthur appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "What's all this? Dear, you shouldn't have gone to all the trouble!" she said, looking at the fully loaded stove top.

"I had no idea you could cook," said Arthur, stifling a yawn.

"It's no trouble, really," he said to Molly with a smile. "There's coffee ready," he offered, nodding his head in the direction of the pot.

Molly and Arthur shared a look before helping themselves to the coffee. Molly glanced over at the record player.

"What is this, um, music? It's interesting," she commented tightly.

Remus stifled a laugh. "She's a muggle singer."

"Oh?" exclaimed Arthur, interest suddenly piqued. "Fascinating! She sounds rather like some of this one young woman that was on the radio back when Ron was a baby. I remember because it played non-stop in the waiting room at St Mungos. Absolutely marvelous to see trends in the wizarding community bleeding out to muggle society. Just fascinating," he said, taking a sip of coffee.

Remus decided it was best not to mention that this particular album had been released in the Seventies, at least eight years before Ron was born, and it was generally the wizarding world that played catch up to muggle trends.

"Well, she's no Celestina Warbek, but she has a nice voice," said Molly politely.

It seems she had made the choice to hand the morning over to him completely, for which he was grateful. He'd vaguely considered throwing on some Patti Smith or something just to really push the limit. He was glad he thought better of it.

"Bit of a funny technique there, Remus," said Arthur, nodding towards the spatula in Remus' hand. "Not a deft hand in domestic spell work?"

Remus laughed. "No, I suppose not, but I actually prefer to cook this way. It's how my father did it," he explained.

"Was your father a muggle?" asked Arthur curiously.

"No. His mother was. He preferred to do most things by hand, really."

"Looks like rather a lot of work," noted Molly.

Remus just smiled and shrugged. "I never really understood it when I was young. Dad taught Sirius how to work with engines and he took to it right away, but I generally preferred to use my wand over my hands. The last few years I've come to see the value in it."

Molly smiled back, though she still held a hint of bewilderment in her expression. Remus appreciated her willingness to indulge him even if she clearly thought he was being more than a bit strange. Both her and Arthur settled in happily with their coffees, going over their list of tasks needing to be completed before taking the kids to the train the next day.

It was only a few minutes later that they all heard the tell-tale sounds of an Order member entering the house. The low hum of the wards being momentarily disrupted that wasn't as much a sensation as a sound. The hum ceased as the locks were reset and a few seconds later a tired looking Tonks trudged her way into the kitchen, directly to the coffee pot.

As she poured herself a cup, not so much as acknowledging a single person in the room, Molly stood. "Looks like it's about time to get the kids up," she said with the air of a woman going into battle. She laid a gentle hand on Tonks' shoulder in greeting, which was met with a grunt as the coffee was raised to her lips, then headed up stairs.

Tonks took her first sip, sighed a deep, satisfied sigh, and only then did she stop to survey her surroundings. She looked around, baffled as her eyes fell on the record player, then on Remus.

"You can cook?" she asked skeptically.

"Why is this such a surprise to people?"

She hesitated, looking him up and down. "No reason," she said, taking another sip of coffee.

"Uh huh. Good to have you with us this morning, Nymphadora," he said politely, not so much as flinching under her instant glare.

She sat down, perking up significantly as she drained her first cup of coffee and went onto the second. It had become part of her morning routine to stop by headquarters for breakfast most days. He knew she was living alone and most certainly did not cook her own food, so she was quite happy to have the opportunity to eat something other than takeout. She was a frequent dinner guest as well. He had no complaints. Everyone loved her. It was impossible not to. Bill often joined them for dinners, though he tended to skip breakfast.

The relative peace of the morning to that point was very quickly shattered as Molly made her way back into the kitchen with the kids trailing slowly and rather unhappily behind her.

"It's six in the bloody morning!" exclaimed Ron from the stairwell.

"We're not even catching the train until tomorrow," moaned George. "Why can't we just sleep in?"

"None of you have so much as started packing!" declared Molly, rounding on them. "And if you don't get up early today, you'll never go to sleep tonight and it will be a nightmare trying to get you up for the train tomorrow!"

There was another round of groans and several voices still complaining under their breaths from all except Harry and Hermione. The pair looked as tired as the rest, but they bore it with significantly more grace, taking their places at the table and wishing good mornings to Tonks and Arthur.

"Since when can Lupin cook?" asked Ron, directing the question at his mother, who answered him with a stern look.

"What's this music?" asked Ginny, walking to the record player and taking a look. "It's really pretty."

"Why are you doing it so weird?" asked Fred, standing just behind Remus and staring around his shoulder, apparently indicating his cooking technique.

"Stop badgering the poor man and just say thank you," said Arthur, sharing an affectionately exasperated glance with Molly.

"Thank you," rang out a chorus of young voices as they all backed off and took their seats.

"You're very welcome," replied Remus, smiling fondly at the group. "Everything is just about ready," he said, putting the finishing touches on the eggs.

"Is Sirius going to be joining us?" asked Hermione, trying to keep her inquiry very casual but not able to stop herself from glancing at Harry.

Harry poured himself an orange juice, trying very hard to act as if he wasn't really invested in the answer. Remus continued smiling even as he clenched his hand by his side.

Things had been tense with Sirius ever since the little incident where he misremembered the story about Harry's birth. Remus had tried talking to him, but he was spending most of his time holed up with Buckbeak. Harry had been through so much stress with his trial and with the drama over the Prefect positions. Not to mention everything that happened before even getting to Grimmauld Place. This was not a good time for Sirius to shut him out. It was getting to Harry. He tried to hide it, especially from the adults, but Remus could see. Harry was tense when Sirius was around. Walking on eggshells. They all were.

"I'm sure he will. Why don't I just go fetch him?" suggested Remus. "Everything is ready to serve up. I'll be back in a moment," he said as an aside to Molly, who nodded and set to work dishing out the food.

Remus ascended the several flights of stairs to get to Sirius' mother's room, where he was most likely to be. He was glad to find that the door was not locked and that Sirius was already awake.

Sirius sat with his back pressed up against a sleeping Buckbeak, his whole boding shifting gently with each rise and fall of the hippogriff's chest. The room smelled like a petting zoo. He glanced up at Remus from the book he was holding. Being able to read more than a few pages of a book at a time was a skill Sirius had acquired thanks to his time in Azkaban, He never used to be able to sit still for long enough.

"I'm busy, if you don't mind," he said coldly.

"I do mind, actually. I made breakfast. The kids are leaving tomorrow. They were asking after you. Harry wants you there."

"He knows where to find me."

Remus entered the room completely, closing the door behind him. "He, like everyone else, is scared of getting his head bitten off if he gets too close to you," said Remus, crossing his arms.

"Everyone but you, you mean?"

"You couldn't scare me if you tried," joked Remus, leaning back against the closed door.

"No. You just know me too well for that, don't you," said Sirius derisively.

"As a matter of fact, yes," replied Remus calmly.

"Better than I know myself," he said, slamming his book closed.

Remus hesitated. He uncrossed his arms, opting instead to put his hands in his pockets. He was torn between irritation and concern. "I suppose we'll never know, given that you refuse to talk to me about what happened. I'm still more than happy to help you figure it out on any other day, but just for today I was thinking we could focus on someone other than you for once. Maybe your godson, who already has to carry enough shit without carrying the blame for your breakdown on top of it," he said, surprising himself with his frustration.

Sirius pushed himself up onto his feet, tossing the book down as he did so. "Fuck you! This is nothing to do with him!"

Buckbeak stirred, eyes cracking open to stare angrily at Sirius for the disruption.

"He thinks it is," said Remus sternly, stepping forward. "He thinks this is because he's leaving. Is he wrong?"

"No, of course not," deadpanned Sirius. "I can't wait to be alone in this nightmare of a house. Who wouldn't be overjoyed at the possibility."

Sirius crossed his arms and turned his head away from Remus. A stabbing pain shot through Remus' heart, traveling down until it came to rest in his gut. Despite his best efforts to remain aloof and angry, there was something about the way Sirius' voice caught on the word 'alone,' that was almost unbearable.

"He's only gone until the holidays. The rest of the Order are still going to be coming and going constantly. I'm still here, Sirius. You aren't going to be alone."

"There it is," he laughed bitterly. "Coming and going. You can all just come and go as you please. You're here, sure, until you have guard duty. Until you have a mission. Until you have to be gone for weeks at a time. Until you just feel like getting away because that's a choice you get to make."

"Sirius-"

"No, it's fine. You're all just doing your duty. How could I ask for anything less, right?" He huffed. "It doesn't matter. I'm used to being alone. I'm a fucking expert. I spent twelve years alone," he said. "Twelve years with nothing but my memories. Only… turns out I don't even really have that, do I?"

He looked Remus in the eyes and his gaze was hard. Like it was somehow Remus' fault. Like his ability to recall his own past was a deliberate act of malice.

"We can figure this out Pads, but not if you refuse to talk to me. I only want to help. You can be as angry as you like but I won't fight with you," he insisted gently.

"Don't patronize me!" shouted Sirius. "You're just as bad as the rest of them! You think you can help me? You think you know what I need? You don't know anything," he spat.

"I know that there is a fifteen year old boy who needs you right now and you're too busy hiding from your problems to be there for him," countered Remus sternly. "If you want to lock yourself away and tell me to go fuck myself then you can do that, but do it tomorrow, once he's gone. You're never going to be alone, Sirius. You can debate that all you want, but there are people who are counting on you and if you keep acting like you're being abandoned you're only going to hurt them as much as yourself."

"That's exactly the problem! Thank you, Moony, you've hit the nail on the head," said Sirius mockingly. "Harry is depending on me! You're so right!" he exclaimed, kicking out the discarded book, ignoring as Buckbeak nipped at his ankles in annoyance. He stepped towards Remus. "We all know how well that worked out for his parents. But no, I'm sure I won't make the same mistakes now that I can barley tell the difference between reality and memory and it turns out even those can't be trusted to be real!"

Remus stared. He tried. Searched every corner of his mind yet couldn't find a single thing to say. Sirius was quiet now. He was just staring back at Remus. Not combative, not angry, just unbearably lost. When he didn't speak, Sirius took a step closer, then another until they were standing face to face with Sirius looking up just slightly to meet Remus' eyes. He felt very much as if he should move away, but he didn't.

"You've been trying to talk to me for days, so go ahead," said Sirius quietly. "Tell me what happened, the day Harry was born. Tell me what it is I've forgotten."

"Do you really want to do this now?" asked Remus quietly.

Sirius nodded. "It's my past as much as yours. You owe it to me."

Remus swallowed. "We hadn't been talking, after you found out about Regulus, then my missions. After I OD'd-" "After you tried to kill yourself," Sirius corrected. Remus broke eye contact, only for a moment. "Right. Well, you tried to talk about it. I wouldn't. I suppose you just got sick of it." Sirius nodded. "I remember that." Remus felt the warmth of his breath, so unbearably close. He continued. "I hadn't really seen any of the others for months. I was avoiding everyone. When you got word that Lily was in labor, you came to find me in some… bar or something, I don't know. Said I couldn't miss it. You wouldn't let it happen. Once it was all over, we talked. We had a real conversation for the first time in months."

Sirius reached up, brushing a strand of hair off Remus' forehead. "What did we say?"

A beat. Remus' heart was pounding.

"That we were afraid we were losing what we had. That we loved each other," he whispered.

Sirius was still looking right in his eyes. Remus wondered if either of them had blinked at any point in the last minute. He couldn't remember. Sirius moved his hand to Remus' cheek and leaned in, closing his eyes finally and bridging the small gap between them.

Remus reached up, grabbing hold of his wrist, halting the action just a moment before the gap was closed completely. "You've been drinking," he murmured, pulling away.

"No-"

"It wasn't a question. I can smell it on your breath." Sickly sweet and sour all at once. So many kinds of longing all mixed up like cocktail. He wanted Sirius. He wanted to taste the wine on his lips. He wanted to throw up.

"This isn't fair," declared Sirius, and it was not at all the response he had expected.

"What?" he asked, struggling to gather his thoughts.

Sirius yanked his wrist from Remus' grasp and stepped back. Remus reached out, wanting to calm the man in front of him, To apologize. To make everything right. Sirius was having none of it.

"How many years did you drink or snort or fuck yourself numb? How many times did you shut me up with a kiss? Now you get to stand here all mature and composed and act like I'm the one who's pathetic? You have no idea what I've been through!" he shouted. "You want this! I see the way you look at me! I'm not imagining it. I'm not fucking crazy. I know what's real and you want this as much as I do!" he insisted furiously, every word wrapped in a blanket of desperation.

There was a lump in his throat. A shot of electricity shivered its way down his spine as Sirius finally put words to what had been unspoken between them. "Not now, Sirius. Not like this," he said as Buckbeak stirred more heavily, feathers rising on the back of his neck at the sound of Sirius' raised voice.

"You got to fall apart! You got to do that. If I got lost in that place, even for a second, I was never getting out! Every second of every day I had to keep it together! Don't you understand that? I would have died in there, empty and pathetic and with absolutely nothing left of me just like all the rest of them! I never had the luxury of being broken! What right do you have to judge me?" he seethed.

Remus was silent, dreaming of a world in which he could just give Sirius everything he ever wanted. In which he could be a stronger man.

"You're not crazy," said eventually. "You're right, I want it too. That doesn't mean it's a good idea. You know that as well as I do," he said softly. Sirius' shoulders dropped. His anger seemed to evaporate and he suddenly looked so… young. So helpless. "None of this is fair. None of it is just," agreed Remus. "If you need to fall apart, you can fall for as long and far as you need and I promise you I will stay with you through all of it. You can shatter into a thousand pieces and I will be here to help you put yourself back together, I swear it. But I cannot fall with you. You've said it yourself in the past. You could always stop when it came down to it. I couldn't. If I go down that path again, I might never make it back and I cannot, will not, leave you alone in this."

Sirius stared at him, looking him up and down, searching for something, though Remus couldn't say what. After what felt like and incredibly long moment, he nodded. Remus nodded back.

"Alright," said Remus a little lamely. "Well, you do what you need to do, but the invitation to breakfast is still open. I hope you'll join us. I know it would mean a lot to Harry to spend more time with you before he leaves."

Remus smiled, or made his best attempt at it, then walked to the door. He had it halfway open and was just about to step out when Sirius spoke.

"Just to be clear," he said, pausing a second to clear his throat, not quite succeeding in sounding confident. "What I just did. If I were to try that again when I'm, say, sober and, you know, not in the middle of a breakdown…?" he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Remus smiled again and this time it was completely genuine. "I don't know. Do you think you could time it so you're wearing the leather jacket at the time?" he said coyly.

Sirius smirked. "I'm sure I could make that work."

"In that case, I'd say it's definitely worth a shot."

With one last look, Remus was out the door. Sirius did come down for breakfast, though not until everyone was pretty much finished. He was in a piss poor mood the entire time, but he smiled at Harry and asked him about what classes he was taking. It was something.

At some point before coming down he had gone up to his room to get his leather jacket. Neither of them acknowledged the action.

Yeah. It was definitely something.