Chapter Thirty Two: ... You Know

They left the pub, and walked hand in hand up the hill to the Riddle House. It was a beautiful summer's evening, very warm - even though the sun was setting and the stars were already coming out. The air was rich with the perfume of the wild flowers, and butterflies fluttered in the hedgerows. Sirius stared about at it all. 'Sometimes I find it hard to believe this is real,' he said. 'After Azkaban … in there … it's hard to believe there's a world like this still outside those walls. And it's too painful to think about. Seeing it all like this…' He seemed unsure of what he wanted to say, how he wanted to finish the sentence. And so he just trailed off and shook his head instead.

'There will always be summer nights, and butterflies, and flowers and stars,' Remus told him. 'And you will get used to them again - I promise. You'll get so used to them, you won't even see them any more; just take them for granted - same as everyone else.'

Sirius shook his head again. 'Sometimes Azkaban feels like a terrible dream. A nightmare I had long ago. And sometimes all this feels like a dream - and I worry that I'm going to wake up back inside my cell, freezing cold and with the dementors at my door.'

Remus dropped his hand in order to wrap his arms tightly around him, 'this is all real,' he assured him, 'and you are never going back.'

'Maybe.'

'No maybe about it. I will not ever let that happen. I promise.'

'You can't fight off the entire Ministry of Magic, if they come for me, Moony.'

'For you, I can fight off anything.'

Sirius smiled, but he did not look convinced. As they reached the end of their goal - as the chance of clearing their names became tantalisingly within their grasp, Sirius seemed to be becoming more afraid. As if he did not dare hope - as if the thought of real freedom was too good to be true and he was preparing, readying himself for the worst. Some moments, it felt to Remus like Sirius was already saying goodbye to him.

And then others - he was like he had been this afternoon, boundless with energy and delighted with life. Of course Sirius had always been a bundle of contradictions, and prone to rather alarming mood swings … Remus supposed that had only been heightened after everything he had been through and Remus, himself, was going to have to relearn how to handle the extremes of Sirius Black.

...

They arrived at the Riddle house and skirted around the side of it, crossing the lawns and headed for the small cottage at the edge of the garden. This was where Frank Bryce lived, and the smoke from the chimney suggested he was home.

When they knocked on the door, it was opened by an elderly man, with a bent back and a walking cane. 'Who are you?' he asked suspiciously, 'what do you want? It's late.'

'Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Bryce we - er - we wanted to ask you about the murders that happened here fifty years ago,' Remus said.

A look of outrage crossed the old man's face and he made to slam the door.

'We know you didn't do it!' Sirius said hurriedly. The door stopped mid slam, and Frank peered back around at them. 'We think the man who did it is going to come back here - and we need to know what you know.'

There was a pause, and then Frank nodded - opened the door wider and stepped back to let them in.

'Thank you.'

'You'll have to speak up - I've had a gammy ear ever since the war. Damn shells… Well, boys as young as you wouldn't understand ... '

'We were in Bosnia recently,' Remus said to him, 'we saw…' He didn't finish the sentence.

Frank shook his head. 'A man goes off to war - he doesn't want to do it - but he does it because it's right. Because he wants to make sure no other young men will have to go off to war after him. To stop the waste. But does it ever work? Do they ever learn? In the end was any of the sacrifice worth anything? … So - you think that boy will come back do you? Won't be a boy now, mind you. He'll be an old man... '

'You saw who did it?' Sirius asked him.

'I saw a strange boy I'd never seen before in these parts. Pale - dark hair - good looking. Like you - but younger. About fifteen or sixteen. No one took me serious - a boy doing those killings - but hadn't we just been through a war? Hadn't boys as young as him seen and done terrible things? I was with the army when we finally made it into Berlin - there were kids manning the machine guns. Girls of twelve - because there was no one else left to do it. And they tell me a fifteen year old boy can't commit murder.'

'That boy has gone on to commit many murders,' Remus told him. 'I don't know if the Riddle family were his first kill, but I can assure you they were not his last.' Bertha Jorkins had been his last … and before that … James and Lily.

'And you think he's coming back?'

'You won't recognise him. And whatever you do - do not approach him. But … yes - we believe he will turn up - and probably in the next few days.'

'And I doubt he'll ask for a room at The Hanged Man,' Sirius said.

'No - the Riddle House is his ancestral home, even if he doesn't think much of his ancestry. Mr. Bryce, if you see anything suspicious up at the house - signs of a break in, smoke at the chimney, lights in the window … anything at all - promise us you will not go up to investigate for yourself.'

'Well - what shall I do?' Frank asked. 'I'm paid to look after the house - I can't just let someone break and enter, even if they are a murderer.'

'We're staying at the pub - room four. If you see anything at all - come and get us. Any time of the day or night, doesn't matter - come and get us straight away. If we're not there, wait for us - do not go up to the house and do not tell anyone you've seen anything.'

Frank was nodding, but he was also frowning. 'So what are you boys then? Special Branch? Interpol? MI5?'

They looked at each other - not understanding a word. 'Er … yes. Something like that.'

'Can't tell me,' Frank said sagely, 'hush hush.' He tapped his nose. 'I understand.'

'More hush hush than you can possibly know,' Sirius said. Remus kicked him.

'Just - please do as we ask,' Remus said.

'Right you are - thanks for the tip off. It's been fifty years - about time that bugger was caught.'

'It really is. Well, we won't trouble you further - remember to keep your distance and tell us the minute you see anything. Good night.'

They left the house and headed back to the pub. 'I liked him,' Sirius said.

'He's spent his whole life falsely accused of murder, after risking his life fighting in a war to keep everyone else safe. You over identify with him.'

'Maybe I do. Seems to me - muggle or magic - good people get their lives ruined by idiots. I have more in common with him than I do with the people hunting me.'

'Muggles aren't so very different … My mum was one. She wasn't different to us. She just couldn't point a wand at things and make them explode … there was lots she could do that we can't though.'

'Like what?'

'She could drive. Our epic journey might have been easier if either of us had ever bothered to learn. And she could knit … I've never been able to get the hang of it.'

'Lots of witches can knit.'

'With magic! They wouldn't know where to start without it. My mum could knit an entire jumper with just her needles and a ball of wool. Do all sorts of fancy patterns in it.'

'Yes - I remember your mum's last jumper - you wore it until the sleeves finished halfway up to your elbows and you could barely move your arms in it. Do you still have it?'

'... Yes.'

Sirius gave his hand a squeeze.

'It was a long time ago now,' Remus said, though even as he said it there was a slight catch in his voice.

'She's still your mum. You only get one.'

'And I was at least considerably luckier in mine than you were in yours.'

'Ha!' He gave his bark of laughter. 'Yes - not a lot of people do worse than me in the mother stakes. Merlin, she was a rotten, old hag. I wonder what she thought when I wound up Azkaban?' He suddenly looked mischievous, 'I wonder what she'd think if she knew about you - my half blood, werewolf. And me - the son of the ancient and noble house of Black fraternising with you.'

'Is that what we're calling it? I wonder what she'd say if she knew about all the muggle blood they put inside of you - running through your veins?'

'God - it's a shame she's already dead, 'cause that would have killed her!'

They laughed, and then walked along quietly for a bit - each lost in their own thoughts. 'I'm sorry you didn't have a nice mum,' Remus said in the end.

'I'm glad you did… I wonder whatever became of Voldemort's mum?'

Remus frowned. 'I don't know - I've never heard of her before, never considered her before …'

'It seems strange - don't you think? That he puts so much stock in wizarding pedigree - when his dad is a muggle and from the sound of it … his mother didn't come from a particularly upstanding family. When you think about the Blacks and the Malfoys and our bushels of gold ... and this family were described as "tramps" by the muggles. This was all before the muggle war - they wouldn't have electric in a town like this, back then. They wouldn't have had indoor toilets in a town like this back then … and yet it was the muggles calling the wizards the tramps. Seems they must have been pretty lowly, if even with magic their life was notably worse than an olden day muggle who went to the toilet in a shed in his garden.'

'There have been times these past two months when a shed in a garden would have seemed like the height of toileting luxury,' Remus said under his breath.

'What was that?'

'Nothing.'

Sirius gave him an amused look - as if he knew he had been complaining. 'Although…' he said slowly.

'Although what?'

'The name "Gaunt" - it rings a bell.'

'You think you've heard of Voldemort's family before?'

'I wonder … they might have been on my dear, old mum's family tree … several generations back but … maybe?'

'You think maybe they were an ancient house, like yours … but they fell on hard times?'

'It happens … and you heard the description of his mother - cross eyes and dumpy. You know what we purebloods are like for inbreeding. Maybe they sort of … inbred themselves into a hole.'

'Hmm - it's remarkable you're as good looking as you are - what with all your ancestors being cousins and everything. Though it would explain why you have seven toes on each foot.'

Sirius thumped him on the arm. 'I have the perfectly usual five and a half toes on each foot.'

They laughed again, and their hands brushed against each other and their fingers casually intertwined. 'I wonder what the backstory was with Riddle and the Gaunt girl … do you think they were … you know ... and he did get her pregnant?'

'He was engaged to someone else,' Remus said.

'So? People can cheat.'

'She wasn't a looker.'

'No - but she was there . And by the sound of it, she had no one to look out for her - no one who cared. You know - back then - he wouldn't have been getting anywhere with the fiance until his wedding night, would he? But there's the tramp's daughter - nice and handy. It used to happen all the time.'

'How on earth do you know?'

Sirius only shrugged, 'remember last month, when we holed up in that hotel before the full moon? I watched the pictures on the screen while you slept. I saw a lot of stories … and one thing I learned from them all … men are dogs.'

'No, Padfoot, that's only you.' He squeezed his hand.

'I'm serious! It used to happen all the time.'

'They were just stories.'

'Well, what else can have happened?'

It was Remus' turn to shrug. 'He said he'd been "hoodwinked" … maybe she used magic to make him forget about his bride and get him to marry her instead; a confundus charm or a love potion. Maybe she enchanted him - they eloped, she got pregnant - he woke up - realised what had happened and ran away. He could hardly tell a muggle town like this that she'd been a witch, could he? He said she'd tricked him - he meant she'd enchanted him - but everyone else just took it to mean she'd lied about having a baby.'

'I wish she'd lied about having a baby,' Sirius muttered darkly.

'Yes - it is strange to think about what a better world we would live in if just one baby hadn't been born. How much better our lives would be - there would not have been the waste. Lily and James…'

'Frank and Alice.'

'Fabian and Gideon… and you. You would never have gone to Azkaban.'

'We could have spent all these years together.'

'Do you -' he hesitated. 'Do you think we would still be … us? The two of us, I mean? You could have got married, if you hadn't been to Azkaban, had a family.'

Sirius squeezed his hand. 'I don't like kissing girls… or at least - I prefer kissing boys. I can't imagine any marriage would be a happy one.'

'But would you have dared say anything? If James was still here? If you still had to worry about what he might say?'

'I … don't know,' he admittedly sheepishly.

'Are we going to tell Harry?'

'I don't know.'

...

Although it was pitch black by the time they reached the pub, and this far out in the countryside there were no street lights to guide them, the front doors of The Hanged Man were still open when they got there. The brightness in the bar, after the blackness outside, was a little bit dazzling - and the noise was overwhelming after the perfumed stillness of the night.

'Let's just go straight to the room,' Sirius muttered - catching sight of the barman and Ally Stimpson and a couple of other ruddy-faced regulars gathered at the bar and staring at the pair of them. He didn't really fancy spending the evening being gawked at like a freak and being asked why he hadn't just married a girl. They kept on saying they weren't judging but … it seemed a lot like they were judging; they were just too English to make a scene.

They got up to their room, locked the door, put the kettle on - and Remus decided to take a shower. They had spent five days in the woods, he had turned into a wolf, he could really do with a scrub down.

Once he was out, Sirius headed into the bathroom for a shower of his own and Remus put his pajamas on, picked up his cup of tea, got under the covers and then eyed the moving picture screen warily. Other than brief glimpses of the news, he hadn't watched it since that night in Luxembourg - and the mystifying story about a vampire, which had embarrassed him so much once the vampire became a wolf and started doing … things to the girl. But Sirius had watched it a lot, while he had slept, in the hotel in Bosnia. Maybe it was time he put the vampire story behind him and tried again …

His heart rate picked up as he picked up the plastic wand and pointed it at the screen - though he hoped he was just being silly. Surely he wouldn't be so unlucky twice … Sirius had never mentioned seeing anything … weird when he had watched it.

There were only four channels - though at least they were all in English. The first was showing moving pictures of hummingbirds, while a man with a soothing voice narrated what they were doing. The second had some muggle music band playing on a stage while teenagers danced. The third was mystifying - "Coronation Street" - which seemed to consist of muggles sitting around poky little houses talking about their lives. Finally Channel Four just had a bunch of muggles sitting on a sofa and talking over each other - while people watched them, like they were at a quidditch match. He considered his options … and went back to the hummingbirds. He liked the man's voice.

'So called for the noise their wings make when they beat them, the hummingbird is alone among avians in being able to fly backwards…' the lovely voiced narrator told Remus … His voice was beautifully RP - like Sirius' was when he wasn't trying to pretend he wasn't as posh as was. 'Which comes in useful when they wish to feed on the nectar inside the flowers … But what's this?' A bee flew onto the screen and buzzed around the flowers: 'the hummingbird is not the only one out today. This foraging worker bee is on the hunt for pollen, which it will take back to the hive and store as bee bread…'

Remus heard the sound of the shower switching off, and a moment later Sirius appeared in the doorway - wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Drops of water dribbled slowly down the smooth skin of his bare chest, rolling lazily across his muscles … Remus wondered if he was deliberately recreating the Alex Wood moment from so many years ago … It was working, if he was.

'What are you doing?'

'Watching the screen.'

'You put your pajamas on.'

He glanced down at himself, frowning, '...yes.'

'Well - it's just - I was thinking…' He walked slowly over from the bathroom and climbed onto the bed. He picked up the plastic wand and switched off the screen - the sudden silence seemed to ring in Remus' ears as he watched Sirius crawl over to him - and waited to hear exactly what it was he had been thinking.

'We're finally indoors. No one knows we're here. We're home - the moon has passed. We should be here a while - we have time … I was thinking,' he gave Remus a kiss, 'that maybe it might be time for us to … you know - you know?'

'Oh.' His heart beat faster and suddenly his skin was all hot.

'Unless you don't want to,' Sirius said quickly, pulling back.

'No. I mean - yes. Yes - I want to.'

'You do? You're sure?' He was grinning - but it was a shy grin.

'Yes - I'm sure.' And he was grinning too. Sirius moved closer, so he was directly in front of Remus, facing him on all fours as Remus leaned against the headboard. He kissed him. Then he shifted position, so he was kneeling up, his legs either side of Remus' own and him sitting in Remus' lap, and leaned in to kiss him again.

Remus sat forwards and wrapped his arms around his neck, and twined his fingers into his hair - they were both flushed, and already breathless… and their kisses, like their grins, were a little shy and hesitant.

Remus' hands drifted down Sirius' body, to his waist, gripping his hips and pulling him closer - their kissing deepened and he felt the desire flood straight between his legs - felt the warmth and the heaviness and the tingling ache … and felt - through the layers of fabric between them - Sirius respond in the same way. Sirius rocked forward in his lap - grinding down - and Remus let out a moan … and then, between hot kisses - and with trembling fingers … Sirius started to undo the buttons of Remus' shirt...

...

Although the curtains were pulled shut, the moon still peeped in through the smallest gap, bathing the whole room in it's silvery light … But even that was not enough to disturb Remus' utter contentment and the feeling that all was right with the world.

Sirius lay sprawled across the bed on his back, snoring every now and again. Remus had rested his head on his chest - and flung an arm across him … and was just lost in the rise and fall of Sirius' steady breathing and the thump thump of his heart.

Although Sirius had rolled off him, once he was done, muttered: 'I think we need more practice, Moony,' and then fallen immediately asleep, Remus was too happy to join him. He wanted this moment to last forever and so he lay awake, savouring every second.

Not that the … you know … itself had been very good. He suspected he would need a lot more practice before he really got the hang of it and - as loath as he was to think Sirius wasn't good at anything - he thought Sirius would probably benefit from the same. It had been all very awkward and fumbling; their hands had trembled and they'd bumped into each other when they weren't supposed to and not bumped into each other when they were. It had been more than a little painful at first … and then suddenly very intense, like nothing he had ever felt before - and then, just like that, it was all over far too soon and Sirius was snoring.

But still, they had the rest of their lives to get better at it - and for all the ways it was imperfect, it had been completely perfect at the same time. And he had never felt this content - he was all warm inside, glowing… Everything just seemed a little bit different now, like the world was both familiar and strange all at once.

"Werewolves didn't get married." That was one of the first things he had learned after he had been bitten. Not that it had really meant much at the time - he was five. But still, he had heard his parents talk about what this would mean for him … and those were the lessons he had learned. "Werewolves don't get married." "His kind do not have children."

And as he got older, he had begun to understand what they really meant. That they were speaking in euphemisms … that there was really only one way to be guaranteed not to have children; that they had not been talking about the fact he would never have a wedding but that he would never have a wedding night … That they were talking about something else he would have to miss out on entirely. Because werewolves did not do that. No one would want them. And the risks were too great.

And it had been just as he started to understand what it was the grownups did together - what his parents were talking about - that he started to think about how much he would like that too; that his body had started to feel things he had never felt before …His mind would wander in class, and he would touch himself under the covers at night and hope the other three wouldn't hear … But the whole time he knew it was hopeless - knew he was doomed to want but never have. "Werewolves don't get married."

Sirius gave a particularly loud snore - and Remus glanced up at him, amused, and then snuggled closer. No. He would not get married. And he would never have children. But it turned out that that did not mean he could not fall in love safely, or that no one would ever want him. And now he had just had what he had wanted so desperately for so many long and lonely years - and never believed he could have - and suddenly the whole world felt different.

And he could have this again. Not right away, admittedly - it had hurt - but soon enough. And for the rest of his life.

He didn't know how long he lay there, in the moonlight that for once was not bothering him; listening to Sirius snore and feeling so happy it felt like his chest could not contain it … But he must have drifted off to sleep eventually, because the next thing he knew it was the sun shining in through the gap in the curtains, and the birds were singing outside their window.

...

They spent the next ten days in Little Hangleton - without hearing anything from Frank Bryce. The regulars at The Hanged Man seemed to find them less interesting by the day … as if, after a lifetime of never seeing any of "their sort" , they were now beginning to realise that "their sort" were just people too - same as anyone else. Though perhaps their tolerance might have been further tested if they had ever discovered they were wizards as well …

Although Little Hangleton was small, the Peak District itself offered no shortages of things to do, and they spent their days going on long walks through countryside of unimaginable beauty, and visiting castles and quaint little towns.

'Of course everyone knows Lambton is really this town,' the muggle in the tearooms in Bakewell told them. 'She wrote it just over there in that hotel.' She nodded across the road.

'Wrote what?' Remus frowned.

'Pride and Prejudice!' She looked at them both like they were stupid. 'When Elizabeth comes to Derbyshire, this is where she stays - only it's called Lambton in the book. And everyone knows Chatsworth House is really Pemberley.' She sighed and her eyes took on a far off look.

The boys shrugged at each other, nonplussed. But when they saw "Pride and Prejudice" in pride of place in the local bookshop, they bought a copy and took it back to The Hanged Man to read.

'It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of good fortune must be in want of a wife,' Remus read.

'Incorrect,' Sirius interrupted him. 'A single man in possession of good fortune must be in want of a werewolf.'

'Idiot.' They kissed - and he continued reading, until part way through - when he put it down, frowning.

'Why did you stop?' Sirius asked him. 'I was invested in who was going to marry Mr. Collins.'

'The lady back in Bakewell - the way she talked about this … she made it sound like this is a famous book. Like all the muggles know about it …'

'Yes?'

'Do you - do you think my mum ever read this?'

'I don't know … she was your mum.'

He frowned more deeply, thinking of things that had never really occurred to him before. 'Because I was a wizard, and they knew that almost straight away - and then I got bit ... I never really knew that much about my mum's world. I was raised as a wizard. I think my dad just sort of expected my mum to follow along with us … And she did - she supported a quidditch team and kept up with our politics. But these past two months, I'm just starting to realise just how big her world was - and how much she abandoned just to keep me safe and hidden. She didn't even see her own family that much.'

'That was her choice.'

'Was it? - Do you think if she'd really understood what it meant to be married to a wizard, when she met my dad, or that she would one day have a werewolf for a son, she would still have gone ahead and got married? Don't you think she would have been happier marrying another muggle and having a muggle family? …' He took a deep breath. 'I think she would have lived longer - without me.'

'Remus -'

'I asked my dad if I was killing her, once. He said my name just like you just did - that exact same tone of voice … He also didn't say "no"... I think she would have been better off with muggle children. Happier. When I was very little, she used to read me her muggle fairy tales. And before I started school she would take me to see stories on the giant moving picture screens that muggles have, and she took me swimming … But once Dumbledore said I could go to Hogwarts - that was it. I lived completely in the wizarding world - and she died not long after. And now I'm starting to realise how little I actually knew about her … I think she would have liked this book.'

'I'm sure she did - I'm sure she'd like that you're reading it now.'

'I wonder, if I went to my dad's house, if I'd find a copy of it among her things.'

'When our names are cleared, we can go and look - and we can borrow some of her other books, if you like. Read all the muggle classics. I'm sure she'd like you to.'

Remus smiled. 'And I'll teach you how to play Monopoly.'

'I have no idea what that is - but I'm in. Now... ' he gave Remus a nudge with his foot, 'start reading again, I want to know who's going to be made to marry Mr. Collins.' … Charlotte Lucas was a twist they did not see coming.

...

It was less dramatic and exotic than being in Rome, and certainly less hot … but it felt like another wonderful holiday. Just them and the slow passage of time, and not much to do but explore. They saw waterfalls, and caverns, they walked along what had once been an ancient coral bed under the sea but was now landlocked and perfectly dry. They went to the little towns and out into the middle of nowhere. They attempted.. . you know - a couple more times, and Remus thought they were really starting to get the hang of it. It was less awkward and painful and lasted longer each time. And slowly, slowly, August started to slip past them.

Until one night, in the middle of the month … when there came a knock on their bedroom door.

Pulling some clothes on, Remus went to answer it - and found Frank Bryce standing anxiously outside. He had seen a strange and flickering light in one of the windows of the Riddle House - like someone had broken in and lit a fire there. He thought, perhaps, that the murderer had finally returned to Little Hangleton.

And just like that - their holiday was over. Voldemort had arrived.