Chapter Twenty Nine: La Belle Dame

Once they had their breath back, they agreed they needed to get far away from the hollow oak tree and the wild hunt, before the creatures down there had time to recover and come looking for them.

But … Remus squinted down at himself, and then glanced across at Sirius. 'We're absolutely filthy,' he said. 'Covered in mud - our clothes, our skin … plus the sweat … We can't apparate into a civilised place like Bonn looking like this - they'll call the muggle aurors on us. We look like the undesirable element.'

'Escaped convict and werewolf,' Sirius yawned, 'we are the undesirable element.'

'There's still no need to look that way, we need to clean up. Come on...' He stood up and laid his wand on his palm, as if he was about to use the 'point me' spell - but instead he said 'agua divino' and his wand span around and pointed off to the south west. 'There should be a river or a lake or something somewhere over there,' he said pointing.

He held his hand out and pulled Sirius to his feet. Sirius picked up the sword, looking like he was wondering exactly what he should do with it - it was large and cumbersome to just carry around.

'I'll steer,' Remus said, 'try not to get splinched.' And, with his hand holding onto Sirius, he twisted into thin air, felt the familiar squeezing and blackness of nothingness and then they popped out on the edge of a river bank.

...

It was a beautiful place, the grass was lush and verdant; the water tripped and trickled like a silver ribbon over the rocks; the trees grew gracefully along the bank, their boughs dipping down to touch the surface of the stream, and the sunlight shone gently in dappled patches and danced on the water. It was a place of stillness and peace, and it felt like an enchantment had been laid all around it; it reminded Remus of the settings for the muggle fairy tales his mother used to tell him when he was a boy. And, muddy and sweaty and out of breath as they were, the pair of them seemed very much out of place - like they had no business intruding on this ephemeral forest glade with their real world sweat and grime and noise.

Sirius lay his sword and wand down on the bank and then dipped his hand into the river, before retracting it - hissing. 'It's cold.'

'Well - it's all we've got.' He conjured two blocks of soap and some towels, 'here.'

Immediately, Sirius began to strip off, divesting himself of his shirt and trousers so he was in nothing but his underwear in a matter of moments - and then an instant later, they were gone too. And then - much more cautiously now, he picked his way into the river, hissing and gasping at the cold - and yelping as he was finally submerged to the waist.

Remus got undressed much more slowly. Even though he knew he was being silly. They had shared a dorm for seven years and got used to a total lack of privacy. And it turned out there wasn't an inch of him Sirius had not seen a hundred times, in lurid and close up detail, due to his transformations. And they were in love . He shouldn't feel embarrassed about getting undressed in front of a man he was in love with - who loved him back.

And yet - his shame over his scars overrode all those facts, no matter how sensibly he put them to himself. And it wasn't just the brokenness of his body. It was one thing to share a dorm and have various bits on show at times, unrelated to all other bits that remained covered. It was one thing to discover (after a lifetime of blissful ignorance) that he collapsed publicly nude on the floor every time he changed back from being a wolf - it wasn't like he was awake and aware when that happened, so didn't have to deal with the humiliation of it. It was quite another thing, though, to slowly and deliberately strip away all his protective layers and purposefully expose all of himself in front of Sirius.

'Come on, Moony,' Sirius called, sounding impatient. He had picked up his shirt and was attacking it with the soap. 'It's not so bad once you're in.' Though his teeth were chattering as he said it.

Blushing bright red, and feeling the heat of it creep up all over … everywhere, Remus slid off his underwear and then retraced the path Sirius had taken to get into the river. The water was freezing - and just dipping his first foot in made him yelp and retract it.

'You're just going to have to grit your teeth,' Sirius said, matter of factly. He was still scrubbing away at his shirt, seemingly engrossed in the task … but Remus had a feeling that he was peeking sly looks at him from under his lowered lashes.

'I don't like the cold.' He struggled his way over to where the river bed dipped suddenly, where he would at least have his modesty protected - the way Sirius' now was - closed his eyes, took a breath - and then splashed his way in, falling face first into the water.

'Graceful,' Sirius said, once he had reemerged spluttering and dripping.

Though Sirius was right - once you were in it wasn't that bad. In fact, with the heat of the sun and all the exertion they had pushed themselves through, it wasn't long before the water felt deliciously cool and soothing.

He grabbed at his own shirt and began to scrub away at it with the soap, trying to knead out the mud and the grass stains and the sweat that clung under the arms. Once he had done the best he could, he moved onto his trousers - and then his underwear and even his socks … and once all his clothes were as clean as he could get them, he laid them out on the bank to dry and started on himself, sluicing away at the grime and sweat of the day.

Sirius finished first - and once he was done he lay on his back, half floating, half resting in the shallows. 'I don't want to get out,' he said.

'No, it's nice.'

'It feels strange here, don't you think? Like the whole place is under some enchantment.'

'Maybe it is.' He finished up and swam over to rest by Sirius. As soon as he was beside him, Sirius rolled over to wrap one arm across Remus' chest and gave him a kiss.

'You know … it's quiet here, and peaceful - and private.'

'Yes it is,' Remus agreed, not knowing where this was headed.

Sirius kissed him again, and then nuzzled into his neck. 'So … we could … you know. You know?'

'Right now? In the water?'

'It would make us less attractive to vampires - and wild huntsmen.'

Remus thought about it, biting his lip, 'safety is important,' he conceded.

Sirius grinned, his whole face lit up and he looked more like himself than he had done in days. He sat up fully, pulling Remus up with him and then wrapped his arms around him and kissed him, slightly nervous, slightly hesitant.

Remus was having trouble trying to keep the daft smile from his face as he kissed him back - and his hands were trembling as they wound their way through Sirius' thick hair.

Then Sirius tugged him back into the deeper water, so they were standing up again - the river flowing past them just at waist height. Sirius' hands drifted down to Remus' hips and held him tightly, while Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius' neck. Their kissing deepened - and Remus felt a sudden heavy tug between his legs and something pressing against his thigh that told him Sirius was in the same state.

Sirius' left hand wandered backwards, caressing and gripping Remus tighter towards him - while his other, trembling, hand crept its way between Remus' legs…

...And then an unearthly, indescribably beautiful singing broke out from the river bank. And the two boys pulled apart in alarm and turned to look.

They couldn't see anything at first. They could just hear the sound. It was the purest, loveliest thing Remus had ever heard; like bubbling, liquid gold turned into words … and listening to it, he felt the heaviness between his leg starts to melt away - and reluctantly he let go of the flushed feelings of desire. 'What is it?'

'There!' Sirius pointed - and his skin had lost its blushing rosiness as well. Their moment had very definitely passed.

He pointed to a heap of boulders on the edge of the river bank where, perched on one of the flattest rocks, was a young woman … Though she was like no woman Remus had ever seen before.

Her hair was white blonde and fell in a rippling cascade about her bare shoulders. Her eyes were icy blue - like frozen crystals - and her skin had a silvery sheen to it; she looked like she was glowing, like she was softly emitting moonlight.

She was undeniably as beautiful as her voice.

And while the boys were naked, the girl was not wearing a whole lot more. A shimmering, gauzy petticoat clung close to her skin, highlighting every perfectly proportioned curve. She caught them looking, and stretched out one of her long and shapely legs, and flipped her gossamer hair.

'What is she?' Sirius muttered, 'there's no way she's human.'

She smiled at them - revealing perfectly even, white teeth - and her smile was warm and welcoming. 'How wonderful,' she said. 'You came straight to my river - two of you.'

'Er - sorry,' Remus said, 'we didn't know this was your river.' He glanced at Sirius and gestured with his head. 'We'll leave.'

'Nonsense - it's not often that I get two gentleman visitors at once … two such handsome men.' Her cold eyes took on a hungry gleam.

The pair of them backed away a step or two. 'Really - we'll just go. We didn't mean to be any bother.'

She flipped her hair again, slowly, so they had time to see the sunlight glint on every strand - and began to sing once more in her golden, enchanting voice.

Sirius looked puzzled, 'is she alright?' he asked. 'Why is she singing?'

But Remus was silently kicking himself. They'd both remarked on how this glade seemed enchanted. He had thought to himself how much it was like something out of one of his mother's muggle fairy tales … and now he was remembering stories his mother had told him. Of women just like this …

'She's a siren,' he told Sirius, 'or at least some form of one - maybe a type of nymph.' It was strange, some of the legends that had stayed in muggle consciousness, even when all belief in magic had long since been stripped away. He supposed some stories just cut too deep to go away.

'Well, what's she playing at?'

'She's - well - a siren sort of lures men in with her song, and then she … you knows with them… and then kills them.'

'Well that's not very friendly. But at least she's prettier than the striga… so, why is she singing?'

'She's trying to seduce us - you know - magically.'

'It's not working.'

'No.' He bit his lip, biting back a laugh and felt himself blush. 'Well, you see, I think - when it comes to us - she's rather barking up the wrong Whomping Willow.'

Sirius furrowed his brow - and then his expression cleared and he began to laugh as he caught hold of Remus' meaning. 'Well - if ever there was proof that the way we feel isn't wrong, the fact that it protects us from the dubious charms of singing murder bints is probably it.'

Remus began to laugh too.

The siren stopped her singing and looked annoyed. 'Why are you laughing? You should be falling at my feet and offering me the world on a platter if only I will hold you in my arms for just one night.'

They looked at each other, slightly sheepish and embarrassed. 'Well - er - you see…'

'Our arms were already full when you got here,' Sirius told her. 'With each other … No offence. I'm sure lots of men would really go for you, but…'

She snorted, suddenly sounding a whole lot less ephemeral. She folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her lower lip, pouting. 'Oh - your sort. I hate it when I get your sort . It looks so bad for numbers. I do have targets to meet, you know?'

'Well - er … I'm sure Sirius and I are very sorry that you can't murder us in order to meet your monthly quota. We didn't mean to let you down.'

'No - it's fine,' she sighed, missing the sarcasm entirely. She flung a slender, silvery arm out towards their clothes, 'just get your things and g-' She came to a stop, and stared.

'What is it?' Remus asked.

'Where did you get there?' she asked, pointing at the sword of Gryffindor.

'Oh - it just sort of appeared to me,' Sirius told her.

'The sword of Gryffindor can only appear to worthy Gryffindors in times of great peril - it must be taken under an act of extreme valour.'

The pair of them looked at each other and shrugged. 'You were doing something stupidly heroic at the time, Padfoot,' Remus said.

The siren was looking at them once more - she was smiling again, as if somehow - despite the shortcomings of their sexual orientation - they had pleased her. 'You must be a very brave and worthy hero to have been given that,' she said to Sirius.

'He is,' Remus assured her.

'So's Remus - it was just my turn to do something stupid. I got lucky.'

But the siren shook her head, 'the sword of Gryffindor does not present itself to the lucky. It presents itself to the courageous … well...' She gave them another smile. 'I'm really quite glad I didn't now lie with you and then eat your skin…'

They looked at each other in alarm.

'Oh - only after you were dead - don't be such babies,' she said dismissively. 'If you are heroes … are you on a quest?'

They looked at each other again. 'Of sorts.'

'Then I will help you out,' she looked directly at Sirius. 'I will allow the great hero to ask me three questions, and I will answer them truthfully - anything you need to know to complete your quest.'

'Can I confer with Remus?'

She nodded.

They put their heads together and whispered for a long while, while the siren waited patiently and brushed her long hair.

Eventually, they thought they had it. 'Alright,' Sirius said, 'first question - where can we find the bones of Lord Voldemort's father?'

She closed her eyes. 'Tom Riddle sleeps beneath the soil of his native home - in the village of little Hangleton, in England. He has been there these past fifty years.'

'That's a good start,' Remus muttered.

'Second question - can we kill Lord Voldemort?'

The siren looked at them appraisingly. She traced her lips with an elegant finger - and then shook her head. 'Though you are brave and noble heroes, both, I am afraid that is a task that must fall to a hero even greater than either of you.'

Remus felt his heart sink, Sirius looked equally downcast. But he rallied himself for his third question. 'Alright - last of all - if we can't kill him, can we at least stop Lord Voldemort from rising again?'

She glanced across at the sword, glinting in the sunlight, and then back at the boys. 'If you know what to do, you can delay his rising only. Until he that must face him is ready to do so.' And then - the air crackled - and just like that, she was gone.

'Well ...That was more useful than our average encounter turns out to be,' Remus said, he began to swim back to the shore and hauled himself out on the river bank. 'And far less deadly'. Instead of drying himself and getting dressed, he just stretched out on the grass - feeling the sun on his skin.

A moment later, and Sirius was stretched out next to him.

'You know the next time you turn up unexpectedly at my house, and ask me to run away with you, I'm saying "no"',' Remus told him. He closed his eyes in exhaustion. 'This has been the stupidest few weeks of my life.'

'I don't know, Moony, it's not been all bad.' He nuzzled into Remus' neck. His hand was resting on Remus' chest, and his fingers were playing with the golden hair that grew there. 'You know - having just looked at the singing murder bint, and how slippery and silky she looked - I think I've finally worked out why I just didn't particularly enjoy kissing Mary McDonald and Lily's cousin, why I like kissing you so much more… Apart from that I'm in love with you of course.'

'Yeah,' he raised his eyebrows but didn't open his eyes, 'why is that?'

'It's the textures.'

Now he opened his eyes, and squinted down at the dark head resting on his shoulder. 'I don't understand.'

'Well - girls - they're all … their skin is all smooth, and their lips are all soft and that's … I'm sure that's great. I'm sure James absolutely loved that about Lily. But you…' he nuzzled into Remus' jawline, kissing along it. 'There's all this stubble. Everything is much courser and rougher - your skin, your hair, your lips … and it just feels … better . More exciting, more right . And I like the way you smell … And girls are so small and fragile. You have to be careful not to crush them. I like that I don't have to worry about that with you - I don't have to hold back. You don't have to hold back. I think kissing boys is just more fun than kissing girls. Especially when the boy is you.'

Remus smiled. 'I think most men probably like that girls are all delicate and fragile and they have to hold back. It probably makes them feel all manly.'

'Yeah? Well maybe they should try kissing a man. I don't see how two men is less manly than one.'

'You just have to let them get on it with it, Sirius. You don't want to kiss girls. James didn't want to kiss boys. You'll just have to agree to disagree on which is better.'

Sirius nuzzled again closer. 'Did you ever want to kiss a girl, Moony?'

Remus frowned. 'I don't really know. I mean … when you're a kid that's what you're taught isn't it? What you expect. You'll grow up and marry a girl - and you don't really think about it. But then - with being a werewolf - I knew I could never have a wife or children, I knew no woman would ever want me … So I suppose I never let myself feel anything. It was easier, less painful. Maybe I would have, without the wolf … we'll never know.' He shrugged. 'I mean - I did like Mary McDonald's nose.'

'Well it was an amazing nose.'

'Only…'

'What?'

'Well - I was never taken off guard by a girl, you know? I could admire that they were pretty - but it was always perfectly controlled.'

'But when it came to me …' Sirius said sagely.

Remus laughed, 'that wasn't the anecdote I was going to tell, no.' He dropped a kiss on the top of Sirius' head, 'you're far too big headed as it is to ever be told the story of how I fell in love with you. No - I was just remembering … Do you remember Alexander Wood? He was the quidditch captain our first year at Hogwarts.'

Sirius nodded slowly.

'Well - I saw him coming out of the showers once, with nothing but a towel around his waist. There were all these water droplets dripping down his skin and he had all these quidditch toned muscles… I was only eleven but - well, I never felt that way about a girl. It was right in that moment that I knew there was something horribly wrong with me.'

'Horribly right with you,' Sirius corrected. 'It was that moment that just saved you from the singing murder bint.'

'I suppose. You know what's really strange? I was teaching Alex Wood's son this year. Oliver. Also the quidditch captain. You cannot know how surreal it is to be teaching a boy about how to defeat inferi when all you are thinking is "your dad was my sexual awakening". He looked just like him - but, whereas I remember Alex being about 8 feet tall and so impossibly grown up - Oliver, at the exact same age, was just a boy. I think we must be very old.'

'I think we are. Though it's no bad thing you're not into teenagers.'

Remus laughed. 'No - though you're lucky I never met a man who had Mary McDonald's nose and Alex Wood's rippling pectorals … I'd have been his in an instant.'

'I'd have ripped his ears off.'

'That would be alright - it wouldn't be his ears I was interested in.'

'Then I'd rip something else off.' He grinned mischievously and leaned up for a kiss. 'Definitely better with more textures,' he mumbled.

...

They lay there for hours, naked and in the sunshine. Remus drifted in and out of sleep, and he assumed Sirius did too. They hadn't put up any protection spells, or muggle repelling charms … He didn't know what he would do if some ramblers happened across them. Though he supposed his dying of embarrassment would probably save him from having to think of an appropriate way to react.

Sirius' hand was still on his chest, his fingers curled into the hair … and Remus stared down at it, thinking it was strange that Sirius seemed to like so much how hairy he was, and his scars; when what he liked about Sirius was the smooth, flawlessness of his skin.

He didn't know if it was because he was a werewolf, or just an unfortunate genetic predisposition, that had caused him to grow hair ... everywhere. But if Sirius liked it, he supposed it wasn't so bad after all.

Though he still definitely preferred the way Sirius looked - the way his muscles were so clearly defined because there was no downy covering of hair to hide them, that his skin was so unmarked - even the colour of his skin … It was like a creamy marble with shots of blue through where his veins were.

Sirius' whole body looked like a perfect statue - and just stupidly elegant and aristocratic. He remembered how they used to tease each other at school - Sirius teasing him for being rough, him teasing Sirius for being posh. Sirius had started copying the way he talked, in an attempt to distance himself from his family and make himself seem cooler - and rougher.

As if anything could ever make Sirius seem rough. Not even twelve years in Azkaban. And anyone who came across them lying here (though he shuddered at the thought) would be able to tell at a glance which one of them was the son of an ancient and noble lineage … and which one was the oik.

They had once been such worlds apart; the eldest son of the pureblooded Black family and the halfblood werewolf without any money. Not that it had ever stopped them being friends - but on occasion that gulf could seem insurmountable. They could never have foreseen how the tides of life would buffer them, change them, and make it so it was now hard to tell - as they lay here in each other's arms - which one of them was the bigger outcast. Equal at last, in not belonging and not being wanted. Not that it mattered - they belonged to and wanted each other. But still … life was strange.

He stole a glance at Sirius' face - and frowned when he saw his expression had become closed off again, his eyes were deadened and haunted once more. 'What are you thinking?' he asked.

'I'm not thinking anything.'

'Liar.' He rolled onto his side, and wrapped his arm around Sirius, bringing his hand up to stroke his hair. 'Tell me what it is that's making you look that way. Maybe it will help.'

'I was just thinking about Grindelwald - alone in that tiny little cell. For fifty years.'

'He deserves to be there. He did terrible things.'

'He seems to regret them.'

'You said it yourself - being sorry doesn't undo the harm. He has to pay for the damage he caused, the lives he ruined.'

'You think they could ever put Voldemort in a prison?'

'No - Grindelwald is there because he allows himself to be. Voldemort will have to be killed.'

'It won't be us that does it - you heard what the singing lady said.'

'No it won't be.'

'It will be Harry.'

Remus sighed, 'probably - but she never said he couldn't have help.'

It was Sirius' turn to sigh. 'You know, my cell was twelve paces from the window to the door?' he said. 'And seven from wall to wall. I measured… every single day, for 4285 days, I measured - just to see. Always the same - twelve and seven.'

'Yeah? How many paces was it corner to corner?'

The blank look was replaced with an expression of deep irritation. 'I never thought to measure that.'

And despite the seriousness of the conversation, Remus had to bite back a laugh. '12 years in one room and you never walked in a diagonal line? Or checked if both diagonals were the same length? ...Tell me you at least measured the perimeter.'

'Look - there were dementors right outside my door, I spent most of my time as a dog … I wasn't doing my best thinking, OK? If they catch me and put me back in prison, I'll be sure to let you know how long the diagonals are.'

Remus' smile became more sympathetic, 'they're not going to catch you and put you back in prison.'

'Maybe - I hope not. I couldn't bear it if they did.'

'Because of the dementors?'

But Sirius shook his head, 'no. They say people go crazy in there because of the unrelenting misery - and maybe they do. But I think they go crazy because of the boredom. That's what I can't stand to think about - one tiny room, barely room to move - I couldn't even stand up straight in my cell. And nothing to do: day after day, month after month, year after year … but count the paces. I can't go back to that.'

'You won't. I promise. I would die a thousand, slow and agonising deaths before I let you go back to that.'

'And I can't stop thinking about Grindelwald. Fifty years. In that dank, cramped little cell … with nothing to do. I can't stop thinking about it - but I can't bear the thought of it.'

'Well,' he brushed his lips against Sirius' own - just the barest trace of a kiss. 'Once our names are cleared, we'll send him a crossword puzzle book to say thank you for his help.'

And a ghost of a smile flitted back across Sirius' face. 'Alright - we'll do that.'

The sun had set by now and the stars were coming out to shine - tiny pinpricks of light, more of them gathering by the moment. Sirius stared up at them. 'Can we stay here tonight?' he asked eventually. 'Out in the open?'

So that was what they did.