Chapter Twenty Three: At Last!

When Remus woke up he didn't understand where he was or what had happened. He was lying on the floor of the forest, the sun was beginning to rise - an entire night had passed and he had no recollection of it … he wasn't even sure where he was. And waking up like this - naked - somewhere strange … it was like the night after a full. Only last night hadn't been a...

And then his memory went into fast forward, and he remembered the dying trees and Peter, and the snake, and then the voice; the cold voice that hissed terrible truths he was afraid to admit into his ear. He remembered the moon growing fat and him losing control of himself … he felt a stab of shame as he remembered Sirius telling him he could fight it, that he wasn't a monster. But he couldn't - and he was … and that much was clear now.

He remembered running, howling, into the trees - and the giant, black dog that chased after him, tried to catch him - to calm him - to stop him from killing again. Sirius must have been so disappointed in him. They had had Peter - and Remus had let him go, because he could not fight what was inside of himself. Sirius could have cleared his name, got his life back, but now they were back at square one and it was all Remus' fault.

He wondered what Sirius thought of him now. He remembered his last words - just before the wolf had taken him, before the man had lost out to the beast. Sirius had believed Remus was strong enough to fight. He had said Remus was not a monster, that he did not have to change. He had said…

Remus furrowed his brow. In that moment he became aware of the weight of an arm casually slung across him, holding him. And he could feel the warmth of another body curled around him. And then he was suddenly very very aware that he had no clothes on … and Sirius was sleeping beside him, holding him.

And, as if he wasn't ashamed enough already, terror and excitement flooded ice hot straight into his groin. He could feel the heaviness and the heat and the pleasingly frustrating tug of need … and he just lay there, horrified - not knowing what to do.

He felt Sirius stir behind him, sending another shock of aching warmth straight between his legs. And then a sleepy voice said, 'is it morning?'

'Yes,' he forced the word out - it came out breathy and slightly too high.

'We lost Peter.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It wasn't your fault.' And the arm squeezed him tighter … and Remus closed his eyes, biting his lip so he didn't scream.

'Isn't it - isn't it a bit strange - you lying here with me... like this?' He asked.

He could hear the frown in Sirius' voice. 'We always sleep like this.'

'Yes but - I'm not wearing any clothes.'

'You never are after a full moon.'

'No - but normally I'm covered with a blanket.'

And this time he could definitely hear the smile in Sirius' voice. 'You - er - you don't think the wolf gets under a blanket or climbs into a sleeping bag all by itself do you, Moony?'

'What?' he didn't understand what Sirius was saying.

But now there was laughter in Sirus' voice. 'You pass out - when you transform back - dead to the world and completely naked … just wherever you end up - and I cover you with the blanket.'

Remus felt his face flush with heat, with the humiliation of all those past moons of their childhood, he had never realised … 'Why - er - why do you do that?'

The arm squeezed him tighter again. 'So you don't get cold, you idiot. And because I know you don't like people seeing you. Though when it's only me you don't have to worry - there is nothing of you I haven't seen a million times before. You don't ever have to cover up in front of me, Moony.'

'I - er -' he was still humiliated beyond belief … Though it did suddenly make sense why he had never woken up under a blanket in the twelve years Sirius had been in Azkaban.

'You are an idiot, Moony,' Sirius' voice was unmistakably fond. He pulled his arm back a little, so it rested on Remus' arm rather than his chest - and began to stroke Remus' skin with his knuckles - softly, careful of any aches or pains or scratches the night might have brought on.

Remus closed his eyes again - and struggled to breathe.

And then he felt something on his shoulder; warm, wet, just there for a moment - pressure and then it lifted … and then he felt it lower down his arm … He'd never felt anything like … he didn't understand … and then it hit him. What was happening hit him full force. 'What - what are you doing?'

The pressure lifted a moment. 'I'm kissing you.' And then it came back.

It felt like all the air was suddenly trapped inside Remus' lungs and he couldn't breathe in or out he was just … ready to explode. 'Wh - why?'

'Because I love you. And you love me. And Merlin knows I've tried to tell you a hundred different ways, but you won't listen.'

'You can't love me.'

'See? Hopeless.' He kissed him again.

'But I'm a - you're a - we're both boys!'

'That doesn't stop you loving me, why would it stop me loving you?'

'Well, I thought…'

'There was something wrong with you?' He kissed Remus again; softly, on his shoulder. 'I thought that too, once upon a time. I got over it.'

'But -' and forgetting he was naked, in his confusion, he rolled over so he was facing Sirius. 'For how long?'

'Since we were boys. Maybe since we met … but I was too young to recognise it then.' His smile was soft, his hand came up and stroked Remus' hair.

'But how long did you know that I …'

'That you loved me? As long as I've known that I loved you.'

'But you never said…'

Sirius gave his bark of a laugh. 'Oh come on, Moony. I've said it a hundred times - in a hundred different ways. Do you really think I know so little about the world that I don't realise grown men don't climb into each other's beds and hold each other every night? Did you think I just forgot how people behave, while I was in Azkaban?'

'Well … you never behaved like other people anyway.'

'No, I suppose I didn't. But, when getting into bed with you didn't work, I did try more direct methods. You could just never hear what I was saying.'

'So - why are you being so direct now?' His brow was furrowed.

'I'm tired of waiting … and I wasn't sure … after Azkaban. Well, I know what I looked like. What I look like. You loved me before - but I was handsome then … I didn't know for sure you would still feel … and of course you. .. You just turned up in the Shrieking Shack that night, Moony, completely out of the blue and you hadn't changed at all - except to grow more beautiful. All that madness going on - and I thought I was going to die from wanting you. But I looked such a mess. Why would someone as beautiful as you want someone who looked like me? But then Voldemort said you wanted me to love you, that your heart beat for me … and I knew I was right to hope.' His smile became broader. 'I don't suppose Lord Voldemort has ever played matchmaker before - but he has a flair for it.'

Remus was frowning. None of this made sense. Sirius wanted him? Sirius thought he was the beautiful one - and that he hadn't changed. Even though he was scarred and broken and greying - Sirius seemed to think he looked the same as he had when they were still practically boys. And Sirius seemed to think there was a chance that Remus wouldn't want him? That Sirius was too ugly to be loved … he was beginning to feel like he had slipped into some bizarre dreamworld where everything was reversed, fallen through a mirror and was living the reflection not the reality… Though really, having spent a lifetime hopelessly loving, he was just feeling for the first time what it was like to be loved hopelessly in return.

'But … How can you want me? ... I'm a werewolf.'

Sirius' expression became suddenly fierce. 'That has never mattered to me. It doesn't change who you are.' He grinned again. 'Honestly, Remus, it's only you who gets hung up on the werewolf thing. Everyone who knows you knows it doesn't make a difference. And it never made a difference to me.'

He thought of something else. 'Why did you never say anything before? I mean before it all went wrong, before we wasted our lives?'

The smile slipped from Sirius' face. 'I was afraid.'

'But you said you knew I loved you.'

'I know - I did. I wasn't afraid of you not wanting me. But I was afraid of what other people would say. If they would tell us it was wrong, if they would be disgusted. If they would laugh … I was afraid of what James would say.'

'You think he wouldn't understand?'

'I don't know,' he shook his head, 'I still don't know. And I was too much of a coward to risk it back then.'

'But you're not afraid any more?'

'No' - and he laughed again. 'The funny thing about being wrongfully accused of being an insane mass murderer, and learning to live with it, is that it really stops you caring what other people say about you. Sod them all. I love you, Remus. If other people have a problem with that … that isn't my problem.'

And then his hand, entwined in Remus' hair, increased it's pressure - he leaned forward, and brushed his lips against Remus' own. For a moment it was soft, gentle - barely there - hesitant and a little unsure, tickling like the dancing of butterfly wings … And then Remus wrapped his own arms around Sirius, pulling him closer, and the pressure increased, the intensity and the heat. Their lips parted and they were breathless, they held each other tighter - until finally they broke apart, gasping.

Sirius' face was flushed, but it was like he was illuminated - something warm and wonderful lighting him up from the inside. He was smiling - both delighted and slightly shy and he suddenly looked younger, and more handsome and more happy than Remus ever recalled seeing him before … And it struck him that maybe, as Sirius looked back at him, he saw the same thing. That maybe he didn't look old and broken down to Sirius, the way Sirius had never looked anything but beautiful to him.

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms, Sirius was stroking his bare skin again. 'It was definitely worth kissing Mary McDonald to get that right,' he said. He leaned forward and stole another kiss. 'And now you can't say you have never kissed anyone, Moony.'

'I still haven't kissed a girl.'

'I never asked you if you'd kissed a girl.'

'Yes you did!' He sounded indignant, even to his own ears.

Sirius looked supremely smug. 'No. I didn't.' He kissed him again. 'I asked if you'd kissed anyone … Although to be clear, if you had ever kissed another boy, I'd have found him and ripped his ears off. I want you all for myself.'

'There was never another boy I wanted to kiss ... Why his ears?'

'They look like the easiest part to rip off.' And then he started to kiss Remus again, hot and heavy, and Remus got utterly lost in the moment.

...

They were brought back by the distant sound of a snapping twig. They pulled apart, sat up and looked around. 'Do you think there's someone out there?'

Remus glanced down - and suddenly realised he had been naked this whole time, that he had been lying in front of Sirius, completely bare, semi-aroused and with every last one of his scars on show. He blushed - right the way down to his toes. 'I need clothes,' he muttered.

'Do you?' Sirius grin became mischievous, 'couldn't you just … stay this way? For my pleasure and edification?'

Remus' eyes widened in outrage, and Sirius threw his head back and laughed. 'Alright, alright - I'll find the suitcase. Stay here.' He got to his feet.

Remus looked around in panic, 'you can't just leave me!' he hissed, 'what if somebody comes?'

Sirius crouched down again and gave him a swift kiss, 'look 'em dead in the eye and brazen it out. I won't be a minute.' And then he walked off, leaving Remus all alone, stark naked in the middle of the forest - awkward, sweaty and desperately trying to will the proof of his excitement away.

Fortunately, Sirius was true to his word. It was only a few minutes later that Remus heard footsteps returning to him. 'Sirius?' he called, 'Padfoot, is that you?'

'Relax - it's me.' And a moment later, Sirius reappeared, carrying the suitcase and Remus' wand. 'We weren't that far from where you wolfed out,' he said. 'I managed to chase you back in a circle.' He knelt down on the ground, untied the neatly knotted string and then prised open the worn through clasps and began taking out robes and underwear. 'Of course, what you were wearing yesterday is utterly destroyed,' he said, handing the clothes over to Remus, and kissing him before he went back to closing up the case.

Remus blushed again - and began to pull the folds of fabric over his head, thankful to be covered up once more. Though as his head reemerged from his robes, Sirius was waiting to kiss him again - and there was an amused but disappointed gleam in his eyes as Remus' bare skin was once more hidden away.

Once fully dressed, he got back to his feet. 'We need to find Peter.'

'We do.'

'I'm sorry about last night.'

'Don't be - come on.' And then Sirius reached out, took hold of Remus' hand, their fingers intertwined - he gave him a brief, shy smile - and started to tow him back through the forest, heading for the clearing where they had last seen Wormtail.

...

There was no sign of him there and, reluctantly, they made their way back towards the graveyard of animal bones. As much as they did not want to return to the dead part of the forest, it seemed most likely that that was where they needed to be.

Although, as gloomy and depressing as this place was, as weak as the sunshine was and as diseased and decaying the woods were … it somehow did not seem quite as bad as it was yesterday. Perhaps it was because it was earlier in the morning - and the promise of a new day, even in a place of death, was less sinister than the gloaming twilight. Or perhaps it was because they now held hands as they walked, their fingers interlocked, giving comfort to one another. And every so often they would glance at each other, and smile shyly and share a feather light, tentative kiss. And each kiss told them both that there was more than a new day promised to them. Suddenly, the whole world - this place included - seemed very wonderful indeed.

But even the flush of new love - or old love that had finally made itself known - could not completely hide the eerie lack of signs of life, or disguise the oozing sickness of the trees, or stop their feet from crunching over the tiny bones of dead vermin. And even the joy of hands held at long last, and the feel of warm lips pressed to lips after years of lonely wanting, could not block out the shivers that ran down their spines - the prickles of unease that this place gave them. They had reason, now, to want to succeed more than ever - something to live for and look forward to once they got away … But first they would need to get away. They would need to succeed. But just like Peter and Voldemort were not in the clearing where Remus had transformed, neither were they in the animal boneyard. They would need to keep on looking.

They crept further through the trees - careful to keep their footsteps as quiet as possible - staying close to the bones of the rats but searching in an ever widening circle. They did not believe Voldemort or Peter could be far; this was where the Dark Lord had lived these past thirteen years, this was his haunt, this was his home. And if he was still no more than a spirit last night, then he was not yet up to leaving. They knew he must be somewhere in the part of the woods where the sun struggled to shine and the trees could not thrive. They knew, if they travelled back to the living acres of the forest, then they would have gone too far. Voldemort was close - they just needed to find him.

...

They had been searching for about an hour, and had covered about five miles when they became aware of sounds in the distance. The forest was still unnaturally still; no animals, no birds, no breath of wind - but now they could hear the sound of something large slithering along the ground, and the sound of flames crackling and the sound of feet … just one set, blundering around.

With a final glance at one another, a nod, and a squeeze of their hands - they made their way towards the noises, keeping low - careful not to be seen. They reached a muddy bank, where straggling weeds grew but no grass, and where bare and sickly trees stood like leprous sentinels above a large hollow.

Leaving the case, they got down low and army crawled their way to the edge. They peered over the brink and looked down into the hollow clearing beneath them.

Peter was there, and the large snake - which slithered in circles around him. There was a fire lit in the middle of the clearing, green flames spat and crackled, and a large, stone cauldron was placed on the heat.

Although there was no breeze, they felt something akin to one when they heard Voldemort speak in his icy blast of a voice. 'Add in the venom from Nagini, Wormtail. Three dashes.'

And they saw Peter, the hood of his cloak pulled over his head, raise a vial in his four fingered hand and drip in three drops of an acid green substance. 'What next My - My Lord?'

'The plockweed - and stir it anti-clockwise, seven times.'

'And this will work? This will return you to some form of body?'

'You had better hope it does.'

Peter threw in the weeds. The smoke rose in purple spirals and a smell like burning nettles crept through the air. The potion in the cauldron began to bubble more rapidly.

...

With another glance and another nod they backed away slowly, returning to the case and getting back to their feet. They tiptoed away to a safer distance before they began to talk. 'He's going to build Voldemort another body?' Remus said.

'Of sorts … but … what did he mean by "some kind of"? It doesn't sound like whatever they're doing will raise Voldemort back to full strength. Not yet anyway.'

'No - but it will be a start - and it will be a start we need to stop. Easier to end this now than wait and let Voldemort become corporeal again …' He furrowed his brow. 'But we can't just go rushing in there. After last night … we can't afford for me to, well - you know - not again.'

Sirius gave his bark of a laugh, 'right - not least because we do not have enough spare robes in the case for you to keep destroying them.' Then he saw the rather hurt expression on Remus' face and gave him a kiss. 'It wasn't your fault,' he said. 'You couldn't help it.'

'Not the first time - no. But we need to avoid a repeat performance. We need to go in there and stop Peter, without Voldemort stopping us… stopping me.'

'Well I - I could go alone,' Sirius said. He looked troubled - and slightly guilty, as he suggested it. 'Voldemort can't touch me. He can't affect me the way he affects you. And there's nothing he can show me that will frighten me so much I can't stun Peter and tip the cauldron over.'

'But what about the snake? That thing looks big enough to eat a man. And it's venomous. Just a bite could kill you. You can't be sure you can take on Peter and the snake at once.'

'Well - maybe if you stay up on the bank - you stun the snake from a distance. I can do the rest.'

'But if Voldemort works out I'm there, he'll come for me - he'll make me transform again… I don't want to let you down again.'

'You didn't let me down!' He sounded fierce again. 'That wasn't your fault. Look - there's no one in the forest, so if you transform you can't hurt anyone. You get the snake - I'll sort Peter, stun him, tie him up, take his wand - and once he can't escape, if it's necessary, I'll transform and come and get you back. But it's the daytime - I don't think you need to worry. I know you don't remember, but you turned human again the moment the sun began to rise. You always do. I don't think you can be a wolf during the day.' He pulled Remus to a standstill, took hold of both of his hands and looked at him earnestly. 'I think we can do this. And I believe Voldemort can't affect you a second time. But I need you to believe that too.' He stared into Remus' eyes - waiting for Remus to agree with him.

After a moment - Remus nodded.

'Good,' he pulled Remus into a brief hug - and then kissed him again. 'Come on then, it's the best plan we have.'

'It's the only plan we have.'

'And that's why it will work. Because it has to.' They started to head back to the hollow.

'I still don't like the idea of you going down there al-' Remus was suddenly cut off, when he tripped over something large and fell sprawled on the ground.

'Moony - are you alright?'

'Yes, I - er-' he scrabbled around to see what had taken his feet out from under him. There was something bulky lying half buried beneath a mountain of dead and dessicated leaves. 'Er-' he began to push away the leaves to get a better look at whatever it was … And then he froze up and fell over backwards, staring in alarm.

He had uncovered a face. A woman's face - with wide staring, glassy eyes. Her skin was cold and she was stiff. It was a body - he had fallen over a dead body. But it wasn't just the shock of that which was making him stare in horror … it was the fact that he recognised this woman. He had seen her before, spoken to her only two nights ago. He, personally, had lured her out of the tavern - where she had been safe - and bundled her into a taxi without caring where it would take her or what would become of her, just to protect himself and Sirius. And now here she was - dead. The body was Bertha Jorkins. Bertha Jorkins was dead.