Hold on to this lullaby11-15
Chapter 11
Chapter Notes
Content Warning for mention of the death of a child.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Late that summer they saw a rat in the garden. A simple, ugly, little, brown thing covered in fur besides its naked tail. Remus had never been afraid of rodents. He was a scarier monster than anything that could scurry about. Still, the sight of the rat sent his heart plunging straight into his shoes.
"Come here, Harry." He urged and was impressed with how even his voice sounded. "Let's go inside and get a snack. I think we've got some more of those cauldron cakes leftover from after dinner last night."
Harry ran into the house ahead of them, leaving the door open behind him. There was dirt under his nails and grass stains on the knees of his trousers, just as Sirius had hoped for a year ago.
"Did you see?" Sirius asked quickly.
"I didn't get a good look. It may have just been a garden rat. I'm sure it was just a garden rat."
"I don't like it."
Remus didn't like it either. They followed Harry quickly inside and if Remus saw Sirius checking that all the windows and doors were latched properly he didn't say anything.
"I've been thinking," Sirius said later that night when Harry was tucked away in bed and he and Remus were relaxing in the living room.
"Dangerous thing, that."
"Hmm," Sirius agreed mirthlessly.
The fact that Sirius quietly accepted the teasing barb without a retort was enough to make Remus set his book down. He dogeared the page in a way that would have made Lily gasp and smack him on the shoulder, but he always found it convenient. He realized, after hesitating a moment before turning to face Sirius, that he still was waiting for Lily to do so. It was little things like this that surprised him. The little shock of pain, like he'd built up too much static on a cold winter's day and unexpectedly touched metal, caught him off guard.
"She'd have hated that." Sirius remarked dryly. As was often the case, his thoughts were running parallel to Remus'. He fiddled with the hem of his trousers, an old childhood habit that Sirius only turned to when very distracted by some thought.
"Hmm," Remus repeated, "What's on your mind?"
Sirius sat cross legged on the couch beside Remus, who had now turned fully to face him. His lanky body crossed over itself in a way so opposed to his normal sprawl that it gave Remus pause. This was going to be a heavy conversation.
"Do you remember July, that year?" Sirius asked as if Remus could ever forget anything about 1981 if he'd tried. An obliviate spell probably wouldn't even be powerful enough to wipe it from his nightmares. "So much went wrong. The Prewitts, the McKinnons, then Benjy Fenwick a few weeks later, Dorcas a bit after that. So much went wrong so quickly, it was like the Death Eaters knew what we'd be doing before we did. No one should've known that Marlene was going to be at her parents' house that night. That little Danny was not going to be at his friends' house after all. We only just overheard Dorcas talking to Marlene about it a few hours before Marls left."
Remus felt ice crystallize in his stomach and climb through his veins. He remembered that conversation. It was so quick, so casual. He wished it had lasted a little longer, that he'd hugged Marlene before she'd left. Had he said 'I love you' to her when she'd walked out the door that night? They'd all been doing that more, the darker things got. Surely he'd told her he loved her. Surely she knew it.
That had been the last time he heard Marlene speak.
"Dorcas told her to save her a plate of her mum's leftovers and that she'd see her in the morning and offered some message to Danny about quidditch and Ravenclaw's team," Sirius continued, "And then Dorcas left to get ready for a mission with Wormtail." Remus flinched visibly, beginning to see where Sirius was going with this. Sirius' voice was ragged at the edges. "The only people who were close enough to hear were you, me, and Wormtail. Do you think... Remus, did he kill Marls, too?"
Remus did not respond at first. He was stunned into total silence, eyes flitting back and forth rapidly as he puzzled it out.
"He wouldn't have," Remus said, words coming out far too quickly so that they clipped into each other, "Danny was only was twelve-"
"Harry wasn't even two."
Remus exhaled in one big gust as the air was knocked out of his lungs at that flat statement.
It had been odd, that the Death Eaters had attacked the McKinnon household that night. It was like they'd known exactly how many people would be there. It's like they'd known that it would just be Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon, who ran a little apothecary and were not at all in fighting shape, a twelve year old boy, and Marlene. Marlene was a very able fighter, but to take on an entire Death Eater attack alone? On one of the few nights that Dorcas wasn't with her? The odds were not good. Someone had tipped the Death Eaters off.
Remus didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to accept that Peter could be responsible for the deaths of even more of their friends. But he had given up James and Lily. Compared to betraying the Marauders, ratting out Marlene and her family would have been a perfect little test run.
"The bastard," Remus said firmly, "The utter bastard how could he? And to be out with Dorcas the whole time when he knew what was happening?"
"I'll kill him," Sirius promised, "If I catch that rat, I will kill him." The flat determination in Sirius' grey eyes chilled Remus.
"We'll put up some more defensive charms tonight and go buy mouse traps in the morning. Cover our bases either way. I'll send an owl to the Longbottoms and see if they'll take a look at our defenses. He won't get us, Sirius. The others trusted him, they weren't expecting anything. We know better now."
Remus hoped with everything he had that it had just been a run of the mill rat. It must have been. Their muggle neighbors had a vegetable garden, surely that was bound to attract a rodent or two every once in a while. It was only to be expected.
Somewhere, hidden deep within a gutter, a rat's heart beat quickly at having been spotted. Chapter End Notes
I may currently be in the process of writing a long Marlene/Dorcas fic set during the First War with Voldemort.
Chapter 12
Chapter Notes
Content Warning for drinking as unhealthy coping
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The second Halloween was harder than the first. Much like how a werewolf's second transformation was more devastating, things hurt more when you anticipated them. They hurt more when you pretended they weren't happening, as if you had a choice over the forward progression of time. When you resisted the reality of a world that screamed its presence ceaselessly into your ear. They were certainly dragging their heels and resisting the tidal pull of linear time now. All October Remus felt himself be on edge. The month started with a dramatic full moon. Padfoot had to tackle him to keep him within their protective boundary. Sirius now had scars of his own tracing down his torso from their struggle. Scratch marks, luckily. Even maddened by the moon, the wolf knew better than to deliver the bite to his dog friend. His packmate. The only one, now.
Still, he felt guilt. He could not look at a shirtless Sirius without wincing. The guilt was its own wolf that chewed on the very marrow of his bones. It reminded him that there was a reason his kind didn't breed, didn't form lasting relationships with non-werewolves. He was too weak to do anything about it, though. Too selfish to make leaving more than a passing thought. Remus loved his life with Sirius. With Harry. He reminded himself that these dark feelings would pass, as they always did. He just had to remember to breathe and keep moving forward.
The feelings would pass, of course, but the scars would stay.
Apparently he'd tried to hunt during the moon. The idea that he could have been stalking something, someone , chilled him to his core. Deep inside himself he knew the terrible truth of it, though. It was a truth bad enough that he preferred to let Sirius think that he'd been frenzied with bloodlust rather than admit it aloud. The wolf had been searching for the rest of his pack. For the stag and the rat that had been gone for so long. He missed them terribly. For just a moment that night, as his thoughts muddled with that of the wolf, he even thought he'd caught a familiar scent. Yes, this second anniversary was going to be hard.
"Maybe we should do something this time. For them. I don't think fighting it is the best plan." Remus said one night after he and Sirius got into a rather heated argument over a pile of dirty dishes that was absolutely not about the pile of dirty dishes. "This isn't sustainable."
He wasn't yet about to reveal that he'd found their fire whiskey bottle empty. Or that he knew it was a replacement bottle bought only a few days ago. That he'd noticed the wine in the cupboard was gone. Admitting that would mean admitting he'd been seeking it out for himself. A confrontation would mean making an effort for change on his own part, and he wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Besides, Sirius wasn't bringing up the fact that Remus was sneaking a cigarette at every opportunity. He must smell it on him, as much as Remus tried to shake off the smoke before coming inside. No, it was best not to bring it up. Not yet. Let them have their little indiscretions.
"Like what?" Sirius snapped, "tell fairy tales about how happy we all used to be?"
Remus ignored the jab as best he could. He tried to remember his own temper, that he himself
would get snappy when in pain. Sirius was certainly in pain now, they both were. A mental anguish was just as real as the physical. Still, it made him feel like he was failing. Like Sirius not being happy at this moment meant that he wasn't happy with him , like he wasn't satisfied with their relationship. He was too tired for this.
"Right. I'm going on a walk."
"Don't forget your lighter," Sirius offered bitingly to his retreating figure.
"Stay sober 'til I get back. Harry might need something."
He pretended not to notice how Sirius flinched. Perhaps a confrontation was coming sooner than he'd thought.
That was how they found themselves opening the photo album a few days later on the morning of the thirty-first. It was time to create a new Halloween tradition. Something had to change. The tension was as tight as the wires inside Sirius' precious piano. It had to be loosened, lest it snap. They needed to be brought back into tune.
"C'mere, Harry." Sirius called, patting his lap for the boy to join them at the little table in the kitchen. "Come check out this photo of your da'."
Harry ran over from where he was playing with the little stuffed dog after breakfast. He clambered onto Sirius' lap eagerly with just a little help. Remus felt a little spark of pride. Everything else might be crumbling at the moment, but they'd been doing well by Harry. James and Lily's son was well fed and clothed and seemed happy. That's what mattered, above all else.
It was a photo of James after a quidditch match. He was sweaty and mud-spattered, still in his red and gold uniform. The photo version of James marched about the frame in victory, ruffling his hands through his hair uselessly to try and fix it. He beamed at the camera.
"Your mum took this photo. I think they'd just started dating at the time. Your dad scored a ton of points in the match, basically winning it on his own. He dedicated the win to her, it was all very romantic." Remus found that telling these stories eased the knot in his stomach.
"Was dad a chaser?" Harry asked, staring at the photos.
"He was!" Sirius confirmed, "the very best chaser Gryffindor has ever seen."
"I'm going to be a chaser, too." Harry said with a solemnity that made Remus laugh despite himself.
"Of course you are! And Gryffindor will be lucky to have you." Sirius said.
"Or any house," Remus added.
"But especially Gryffindor."
"Here, Harry, look at this one. It's your mum and dad's wedding. Isn't she beautiful in that dress?" Remus said, flipping the album to the next page.
And it was true. Lily was stunning in it, hair in a loose cascade of red curls against the white gown, caught in mid twirl like some sort of advert for youth and beauty. But the part of the photo that
truly took his breath away was a couple in dress robes in the background. They stared at each other with undisguised love in their eyes. It made his heart ache with the thought of it. Things had been so simple then. The way forward seemed so clear. So easy. His eyes met Sirius' from across the table, and he knew that Sirius had seen the same thing he did. They had been so carefree at James' wedding. So utterly full of joy and in love with the very idea of love. It was a good reminder now, four years after that wedding. Seven years after they'd admitted their feelings for each other. Thirteen years after they met on the Hogwarts Express. He loved this man after all this time. He would continue to love this man for as long as he had any choice in it, and then likely for an eternity after. Had he said so out loud enough recently? The distance between them seemed vast, though they were just across the table from each other. He took Sirius' hand from where it gripped the photo album and squeezed it. Silently promised his partner that he would remember that. He promised himself. Sirius left their hands intertwined and held tight.
That night, after Harry had gone to bed and Sirius and Remus had retired for the evening, Remus cast a silencing charm on their room. He kissed Sirius slowly, deeply, putting every ounce of love he could muster into the brush of his lips. The feel of his hands tugging on Sirius' long hair. His fingertips spelled out apologies against his nape. He tried to convey exactly how important Sirius was as his lips trailed down the other man's neck. He bit down on the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder and showed how vital Sirius was to him with his teeth and tongue. Message received , he thought when Sirius moaned deep and low and responded in kind.
Tonight they would celebrate being alive. Tomorrow they could reconcile their fight. Remus would apologize and Sirius would do the same. They'd dump out the rest of the firewhiskey and flush the cigarettes. They'd forgive the harsh words, the lonely distance that had crept between them. Tomorrow they'd promise to be better. Tonight they would simply be.
Chapter End Notes
The next chapter will be so much lighter, dear readers
Chapter 13
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Remus' favorite nights were nights like these. They were simple nights, completely unextraordinary in any way. That was what made them so special. Flurries of snow drifted in soft gusts past the window, glimmering in the warm glow that poured out from inside their cottage. The moon was too thin to offer itself as a light source. The gentle snow would turn to sleet soon enough. It always did. But for now it was as light as Remus' heart.
It was December again. The deep sadness of Halloween retreated back to a familiar ache. It was present, but not all-consuming. He could breathe through it.
Remus sat on the couch, warm and comfortable in stockinged feet. The smell of hot chocolate wafted in from the kitchen, rich and sweet, to tickle his nose. He leaned sideways to press a gentle kiss to the top of Harry's head. The boy was tucked in against his side, waiting for him to continue reading the picture book. His hair was messy from a long and rambunctious day, though when did it ever sit flat? He breathed in the soft hair deeply. He'd never understood it before, why parents smelled the heads of their children. But there was a certain something to it, he'd since learned. It calmed him and invigorated him in a way that should have cancelled the other out but instead just made sense.
"Uncle Moony, are you sniffing me?" Harry asked with a wrinkled nose.
"I thought I smelled chocolate," Remus teased with an overly serious expression, "Are you hiding any in this hair of yours?"
Harry giggled sharp peals of laughter as Remus tossed the book to the side and tickled him.
"Did someone say chocolate?" Sirius walked into the room, following after three floating mugs of hot chocolate that he set on the coffee table with a flick of his wand.
"Pafu! Moony is gonna eat me!" Harry squealed and ran to pull at Sirius' trouser leg, "I'm not chocolate!"
"Well, we can't have that, now can we?" Sirius said and kneeled down to whisper conspiratorially in Harry's ear. Remus couldn't hear another word until Sirius shouted, "NOW!"
The pair leapt on Remus, knocking him flat on the couch and tickling him. Remus laughed and controlled his movements as best he could so he wouldn't knock Harry down. The boy's laughter was like bells or maybe the chirps of a flock of sparrows. A happy, beautiful, squealing sound. So vibrant. So alive. Remus wished he could bottle it. He couldn't help but to laugh along.
"Alright, I think your Moony has had enough." Sirius said after a short time, pulling a very wiggly Harry off of Remus and tossing him playfully but gently to the other side of the couch, "I think this was the source of the chocolate he smelled, anyway. Drink up before it gets cold, Harry."
Harry sat back on the couch and reached out his hands, making grabby fingers for his little mug. He knew the drill well enough by now. Sirius and Remus had learned the hard way that it was best for Harry to already be sitting before they handed him an open cup rather than expect him to climb on the couch with it. Magic, fortunately, could get stains out of just about anything. Sirius passed the boy his bright cup, hot chocolate cooled just enough to not burn a sensitive mouth, and pinched
Remus one last time for good measure with an indulgent smirk. It made his heart flutter.
"What's the story for tonight, Rem?" Sirius asked and handed Remus both a mug of hot chocolate and the book that he'd thrown aside earlier.
"A return to the classics, I think. Let's see how Babbity Rabbity is getting on." "And her cackling stump?" Sirius confirmed.
"Just the one!"
They took a moment to get adjusted into their familiar story time positions. Remus took a long sip of the hot chocolate with no marshmallows and extra whipped cream, made precisely how he preferred it, and recognized just how lucky he was.
Sitting here now was a lullaby. Something to soothe in the dark while shushing quiet whispers of dangers concealed. It was something to relax into, to ignore the nagging worries of futures and pasts. There was comfort in the richness of the melody of this life. A comfort that sometimes felt impossible to grasp, slipping through his fingers like the words of a long forgotten song. He longed to pause time. To sit in this moment forever. In the warm weight of Sirius' head on his lap. The feeling of Harry, curled in at his other side. The little boy's clever green eyes flit across the page, hungrily taking in the shape of every word, every picture. Soon Harry would be sounding out the words on the page along with him, and then reading on his own. Would he still want bedtime stories in a few years?
This domesticity was not a life he'd ever imagined for himself. He was never supposed to survive the transformations of his childhood. Most werewolves bitten at such a young age did not last through the violence of adolescence. He had his friends to thank for that. Sirius to thank. Their choice to become animagi saved him from the worst of it. Then, after Hogwarts, he was certain he would not survive the war. So many people didn't. It seemed he probably had Sirius to thank for his life yet again. He had pulled Remus through the war. And here they were now, reading picture books together, child clutching at his jumper, a warm fire burning in the hearth. Selfishly, he couldn't wish for anything different.
"A long time ago, in a far off land, there lived a foolish king..." He read. *
Some time later, an aching crick in his neck woke Remus. He was still on the couch with Sirius lightly snoring from his twisted position and Harry drooling slightly against his side. A sudden all consuming need to document this unassuming moment motivated him. He summoned the camera, contorted his body to get them all in frame, and awkwardly snapped a photograph. The picture printed from the back of the camera and he shook it softly, waiting for it to develop.
Three figures and a battered, old couch faded into the photo. His own face was half out of view and the photo version of himself leaned oddly into and out of frame, smiling crookedly. It was such an awkward dance of being included but not blocking the rest of them. Of taking up the appropriate amount of space. Sirius looked distinctly undignified, mouth agape, and, if Remus looked closely, he could see a bit of a snot bubble forming in photo Harry's nose. It quivered with every breath. He thought it might pop. Gross.
In short, the photo was perfect. He wouldn't change a thing about it. He carefully placed the camera and photograph on the coffee table and settled in more comfortably between his boys. He tugged the throw blanket from the back of the couch so that it covered Harry's little body and ran
his fingers through Sirius' long hair, gently scratching at his scalp in a way that made him smile and cuddle closer, even in sleep. Soon enough he'd wake Sirius and carry Harry to his little bed. But for now all he wanted to do was enjoy the crackling fire and the comfort of his family.
He would tuck the photo away between the pages of one of his books, somewhere Sirius or Harry wouldn't stumble across it. This was for him. A reminder for when his thoughts inevitably darkened and the pull of the moon seemed too strong. A reminder that there were happy days in his past, present and future. Something to reorient his gravity away from that damned space rock and back here. Back home. Back to them.
Chapter End Notes
Something fluffier as an apology for the angst of the last couple of chapters.
Chapter Notes
Chapter 14
CW: One paragraph reflecting on werewolf scars that could potentially be upsetting shortly after the first break. The paragraph is easily skippable.
The summer air was warm inside the cottage and a light breeze fluttered the leaves of the herb garden on the windowsill above the kitchen sink.
"Come on, Harry! We've got to get going!" Remus called from the kitchen where he was packing sandwiches and a cake into a picnic basket. He shook eight candles out of a pack -four for Harry and four for Neville- and tucked them in as well as his zippo, which had been rather unused as of late. "Neville will be here soon and the Weasley boys are meeting us at the beach."
"Have you seen my watch?" Sirius asked, sticking his head in from the sitting room.
"I swear you'd lose your head if it weren't attached," Remus said with a fond smile that stood in contrast to his teasingly tired tone. "Did you check your nightstand?"
"And yours and under the bed. I'm not entirely useless, you know," Sirius snipped back, fully entering the room now. But there was no malice in his voice and Remus chuckled disbelievingly.
"You are a wizard, you know," Remus mimicked him with a roll of his eyes, " Or have you forgotten? Accio Sirius' watch."
The gold watch came flying in through the open kitchen window after a few seconds.
"Teach your kid about not taking things that aren't his and especially about not leaving them in the garden." Sirius snatched the watch out of midair.
"Oh, he's my kid now?" Remus asked, amused. "Only when he's causing mischief."
"You'd think that was the other way around."
"I'm hurt! You wound me, Remus!" Sirius clutched his chest dramatically, "I am the very picture of poise and etiquette. I've never broken a rule in my life, on my honor as a Black. Besides, let's not pretend like you didn't come up with half the pranks at school."
"Alright, Oh Most Honorable and Noble Sirius Orion Black. Will you ever forgive the offense?"
"I'll consider it. There may be consequences," Sirius said with mock solemnity. His eyes glittered with mirth, betraying his otherwise serious expression and he leaned up to kiss Remus sweetly. Remus could only chuckle and smile with a light shake of his head before returning the kiss. When Sirius Black was in a good mood the whole world felt brighter. He glowed like the star he was named for. The brightest object in Remus' sky.
A cheery knock on the door set the world back in motion.
"Round up the kid," Remus said, closing the lid of the picnic basket and going to open the door. Frank and Alice Longbottom stood on the stoop with little Neville who sported a large dollop of sunscreen on his nose.
"Come on in! We're still getting everything together, but we're almost set." Remus welcomed. "I always forget how much there is to remember now to just go on a day's outing."
"I know what you mean," Alice reminisced, "Remember when it was possible to just go out somewhere with just the clothes on your back and be gone all day?"
"You do that everyday, Alice. You're a bloody auror," Frank said with a snort.
"I meant for fun!" She jibed back.
"Found the birthday boy!" Sirius walked into the room with dramatic steps, holding a giggling Harry upside down by the ankles. "I think he looks a bit different, what do you think, Moony?"
"There's definitely something."
"I'm upside down!" Harry squealed.
"Has your hair grown, Harry?" Frank asked.
"No, I think he just looks older." Alice added. "Are you sure he's just four? I think he must be fourteen! Look how tall!"
"I'm upside down!" Harry repeated.
"He's upside down!" Neville repeated dramatically.
"What's that? Oh! Remus, I think Harry is upside down!" Sirius said in mock surprise. "What should we do about it?"
"What if I just..." Remus bent down and grabbed Harry's hands, pulling him upwards and into the air as Sirius dropped his feet. Harry squealed in joy at the flip. "There we are! How'd you do that, Harry?"
"Do it again!"
"Maybe when we get down to the beach, alright?"
The two boys climbed into the little red wagon that the Longbottoms brought and Frank tugged it along behind him and the group headed down to the beach.
Remus laid out towels on the sand and Frank and Alice set up umbrellas with the help of a little magic. It was fairly early in the afternoon yet and no muggles were on the beach. Sirius was running up and down the coastline with the boys. He claimed that he just wanted to tire them out, but Remus knew that he was having just as much fun as they were. Sirius yanked his shirt over his head, sweating in the summer sun, and threw it in Remus' general direction.
A confusing combination of emotions swirled rapidly in Remus' gut at Sirius' shirtless form. There was guilt, pure and unclean at the scars that traced across Sirius' chest from last October's moon when the wolf had gotten out of control. Shame at wondering if the Longbottoms would notice. If they'd know. The marks had silvered out now, not the angry raised things they'd been nine months
ago. They weren't deep. Padfoot had leapt out of the way almost quickly enough when he realized the danger he was in. The danger Remus put him in. Remus kept his own shirt and trousers firmly on, embarrassed by the latticework of damage that traced across his own skin. He did permit himself the luxury of taking off his shoes to bury his toes in the warm sand. Of cuffing his trousers just one or two folds and rolling his sleeves up to free his forearms below the elbow.
Sirius had no such shame. He never had shame. Not about things like that. When it happened last October Remus had nearly offered to leave, overcome by the guilt of it. He had hurt Sirius. Physically hurt him. Sirius had sat him down and asked if he would do the same thing when it wasn't the full moon. Never, Remus swore, I'd never hurt you. That was enough. Sirius shook it off, said he knew this might happen at thirteen when he'd started the process of becoming an animagus, said they would blend in easily enough with the scars of the war, that it was an excuse to add more tattoos to his collection. He'd said there was nothing to forgive. But still, Remus knew.
The sound of many feet running across the sand pulled him from his thoughts and back to the present. He greeted Arthur Weasley by raising up a bottle of butterbeer as an offering. The boys, just Ron, Fred, and George, with Percy following a bit more slowly behind, ran off to join Neville and Harry who were now concentrating on burying Sirius in an elaborate sand castle.
"Molly wanted a quieter day at home with Ginny. Bill and Charlie have decided that thirteen and eleven is far too old to go to a four year old's birthday and have chosen to stay put, too." Arthur said as means of explanation, setting out a beach chair. "Remus, your mother was a muggle, yes?"
"Yes," Remus said, drawing out the word cautiously. That was a concerning way to start a conversation just three years after the War, though he trusted Arthur.
"Can you explain to me the purpose of this?" Arthur brought forward an inflatable duck floaty, still in its box. Remus could only laugh. In the warm glint of the sun with friends, cold butterbeer, and good food waiting in a picnic basket, nothing could seem so bad.
Still. He imagined a red haired girl hiding from the sun in the shade of an umbrella. A dark haired boy with glasses helping the kids build their castle on top of Sirius. Even, with guilt tinging the thought, a boy with sandy blonde hair sneaking snacks and keeping Remus company. The boy with stars in his eyes and home in his arms was still here. He reminded himself this, as he would over and over when the memories hurt.
But James and Lily should have been there. James should have wiped chocolate frosting off of Harry's face after he ate his birthday cake a little too enthusiastically, as Remus did. Lily should have gone searching for shells with Harry, as Sirius did.
"Alright, Rem?" Sirius asked quietly when Arthur and Frank were occupying the kids by throwing a ball back and forth, over their heads so that they'd have to leap for it in a game of Niffler in the Middle.
"Sit with me for a bit?"
Sirius sat down on the beach towel behind him and wrapped his arms around Remus, resting his chin on his shoulder. Remus felt something in his body loosen and the world slid back into place. Yes, the boy with home in his arms was still there.
They walked home that evening with Sirius carrying a sleeping Harry. The boy was getting too big already for Remus to carry him more than a short distance without it irritating his bad hip, and their
house was about a mile from the beach. This had been a good idea, a joint party for Neville and Harry. Next year they should celebrate on the beach again. Remus realized belatedly that he'd once again started measuring time in birthdays rather than deaths.
A car drove past, tires crunching pleasantly along the cobblestone road. Sirius tensed. It was just a moment, a quick tightening of muscles and widening of eyes. The third time it happened, Remus decided to ask about it.
"It's silly," Sirius said, readjusting his grip on the soundly sleeping Harry. The boy was truly tuckered out from a day running in the sand and ocean spray.
"Tell me anyway."
"It's something about the brake lights," Sirius admitted slowly. "The red flash of them when the car goes by. When I'm not expecting it, it just catches me off guard."
They walked silently for a while longer. Remus could tell that Sirius wasn't done speaking, that he was mulling over his thoughts. He would give him time to say whatever was going on. They had time.
"It throws me back to the war," Sirius said quietly. A confession. "In the corner of my eye it's a stunning spell. Red and sudden. Makes me freeze for a moment on instinct, I suppose."
Remus nodded slowly but immediately. He understood exactly what Sirius meant.
"I still take confusing routes home. Avoid the thin alleys, even in this sleepy little town. If someone is walking behind me on the streets and they get to that point that they're walking quicker and they'll pass me it just... I have to remember not to hex these poor muggles."
"We're a hell of a pair, aren't we?" Sirius said with a wry laugh that invited Remus to join in. "I have no idea what you mean. Us? Traumatized? Never."
The street lights lit the cobblestone streets with a soft glow. A warm, salty, summer breeze ran its gentle fingers through Remus' hair. Sirius sighed deeply.
"Harry flinches at the floo. Have you noticed? The green flash."
"Fuck," Remus said simply.
"Fuck," Sirius agreed, "Do you think he remembers anything? From that night?"
"I hope not, he was very young." Sirius nodded his head and they kept walking. Remus continued speaking after a while, "I was bit when I was four, you know. I was a few years older than Harry, but the memory is hazy. I can't completely recall it, can't remember the details. I mainly remember how everything changed after it. The fear, the pain, the feeling that I'd done something wrong. Feeling like the whole thing was this big secret that I couldn't share."
"We'll make sure he knows he can talk to us about it. About anything." "I think that's all we can do. Just be here. For him. For each other."
"I'm scared of October," Sirius admitted, "We've worked so hard to get to this place again. There are moments sometimes where I can almost forget the war happened, despite everything. I'm afraid I'm going to bugger it all up again."
Remus breathed deeply. They didn't talk like this. Didn't lay so many emotions out all at once. It made him feel bare and raw, naked on the village streets.
"I am, too," He said quietly, "And if we do we'll fix it again. We always fix it again."
They made it to their cottage and the door acted as a natural stopping point. They closed up their emotions again as Remus twisted the lock behind them. That was quite enough trauma unpacking for one night. Still, once Harry was tucked in bed and they'd checked and rechecked their spells and the locks on all the windows and doors as was now their habit, they held each other especially closely that night. Remus fell asleep with the smell of saltwater and something distinctly Sirius swirling about his head. He wouldn't have it any other way.
Chapter 15
"Alright, careful there, Harry. Let's try and get some of those pancakes inside your mouth rather than on the ceiling." Remus said, stretching up to grab said pancakes, which were currently hovering well above the table. Harry was showing signs of magic. Well, showing signs was putting it a bit lightly. Things had begun to hover around the boy when he was feeling particularly mischievous. It was absolutely adorable and entirely annoying all at once. Still, it was better than disappearing things or making them explode, which he'd certainly done himself once or twice when he was Harry's age.
Sirius simply watched and poured Remus another cup of tea. His eyes glittered in amusement and Remus could tell that he was barely holding back laughter. That was all well and good when he wasn't the one with sticky hands from snatching overly syrupy breakfast foods before they had the chance to fall.
"Listen to your Moony, Harry. Eat up," Sirius urged wisely, probably sensing that Remus was about to throw the next pancake that floated directly at him.
A rapid tapping on the window glass made three heads turn quickly to find its source. A rather dignified looking owl rapped on the kitchen window with a stern expression. Sirius frowned and opened the window, taking the letter tied about the bird's outstretched leg. It hooted solemnly and flew away in a hurry. Definitely a Ministry owl. Remus swore those things thought they were more important than most people. Sirius hesitated for a long while before opening the letter, running a thumb over the wax seal with a frown.
Remus' pulse quickened, the jovial mood of the morning all but forgotten. What did the Ministry want? No good news had come from them in recent years, despite the "good" that winning the war was supposed to bring. Crimes against muggles and muggleborns had dropped significantly. That was nothing to discount. But everyone had seemed content to go back to pre-war policies and general attitudes. The wizarding world celebrated a return to "normal," whatever that meant. It wasn't enough. Normal hadn't been working for everyone, even before the war. This could have been the perfect chance to enact real, meaningful change and the fact that nothing along those lines seemed to be happening rankled Remus.
Finally, Sirius tore the seal and opened the letter. His gray eyes widened and then narrowed again as he read the words on the page. They darted quickly across the parchment and Remus watched them reach the bottom and start over again back at the top.
"What is it?" He asked when Sirius crumpled up the letter into a ball in his fist. "She's done it," Sirius said with a scoff, "The old bat has finally done it." "Who's done what?"
"Died," Sirius laughed darkly, "I'm an orphan."
Remus felt his blood run cold as his stomach dropped low and fast. Sirius' hand jumped spastically towards the cabinet where they used to keep the firewhiskey, changing direction midway to run through his hair in frustration instead. He brought the other hand up as well, for good measure, tangling both in his long, dark hair.
"Come again?" Whatever Remus was expecting Sirius to say, it was not that.
"Walburga and Orion are gone. Dead. As of this morning. Apparently the Black estate and fortune must go to the sole surviving male heir and that, my dear Moony, appears to be me." A hysterical note crept into Sirius' voice and he laughed a high, reedy laugh. "Those ridiculous pureblood traditions have done it now."
Remus couldn't help but feel entirely relieved at this news. He hated Sirius' family. Walburga was particularly cruel and Sirius still bore the scars of how she'd raised him. Trained him, like some tamed circus lion, who had to be abused into submission 'til he could only quake in fear. He was glad that Sirius had run away when he did. That he'd been able to escape and move in with James' family at sixteen years old. Curses had no role in raising children.
Still, the mania in Sirius' tone was enough to concern him.
"Dead like my mum and dad?" Harry asked, looking up from his pancakes which were mercifully on the plate. Remus was left momentarily speechless.
"Come on, Harry," He said, guiding Harry to his room by his shoulder, "Let's go get dressed. I've got a feeling a trip to Gringotts is in order."
Remus looked back as they left the room. Sirius had smoothed out the letter and was reading it again, over and over, in the middle of the kitchen.
Remus was not very familiar with Gringotts Wizarding Bank. He never had an account of his own there. There was no great Lupin fortune heading his way and besides, his father was still alive and had sole access to whatever was in the family vault. Anyway, Remus never really had enough to consider gathering up his galleons and taking them to start an account on his own.
Sirius walked in like he owned the place. Which he sort of did. Or at least he now held the key to a vault with a large percentage of the wealth inside it. The Black fortune was large. Remus knew that much. Sirius had been flippant with money at Hogwarts when he'd still been given an allowance. He always bought out the trolley cart on the train to and from school, his robes were new and of
the most recent style, his broom was always the most updated model. Even after he'd been cut off from accessing the family vault after he'd run away in fifth year, Sirius never seemed to struggle to get by. Remus didn't know how much his Uncle Alphonse had left him in his will. He'd been embarrassed to ask. But he knew that it was enough to buy their old flat in London outright and still get by without proper jobs. Even with knowing this, Remus was not prepared for the Black family vault.
He was immediately suspicious when the goblins greeted Sirius with a respectful, "Mr. Black, we've been expecting you." Sirius' entire posture had changed the moment they'd walked into the bank. With his spine straightened and head held at a lofty angle, Sirius looked every inch the part of a pureblood heir.
"My partner and son will be joining me," Sirius said firmly when it had been suggested that he go down to the vaults alone. "It's their vault, too."
He raised an austere eyebrow, daring anyone to challenge him. Something warm pulled at Remus' heart at being claimed so publicly, so proudly.
"As you wish, Mr. Black," was the only response. Sirius, who looked like he'd been primed for an argument, simply nodded his head curtly.
The journey down to the Black vault was long. The little cart that they sat in zipped on its tracks, winding its way deeper and deeper into the underbelly of the bank until Remus felt sure that they must be at the center of the Earth. It was an exaggeration, of course, but they were certainly deeper underground than he'd ever been. Following Sirius' lead, he pretended like it didn't affect him. This was harder for him to do with his old jumper and worn robes. Maybe now Remus would finally let Sirius buy him some new things. Sirius had certainly offered enough times. He kept a firm grip on Harry who was enjoying the fast ride in the cart far too much.
Finally, they stopped outside a vault with massive doors.
"Keep in the cart with Harry," Sirius advised Remus with a frown, "I don't know if anything in here has been cursed against non-purebloods. The bastards would certainly think that was a laugh."
Even from his place in the cart Remus could tell that there was more gold in that vault than he'd ever seen in his life cumulatively up to this point. Jewels dripped in tall piles, necklaces that weighed nearly as much as Lily's old cat, shiny things everywhere. He'd known the Black Estate was a wealthy one, but this . This was not what he'd expected at all. Sirius glanced about the vault and signed the necessary paperwork to claim ownership and then climbed back in with a small pouch full of galleons and they were zipping back up to the surface again. Sirius said nothing else while they were inside Gringotts and Remus did not press him to do so.
"Ugh, I hate it there. Right, who wants ice cream? It's still warm enough for it," Sirius said once they'd stepped out of the bank, "Florean Fortescue's place is just around the corner."
He was instantly back to the man that Remus knew. No signs of that austere posture and cold face remained. It was as if a candle had been lit back in his eyes, brightening his entire being instantly. Remus was glad. He hated seeing Sirius like that, like some shell of a man, a cold carbon copy of his father, utterly devoid of emotion. It scared him sometimes how easily Sirius could slip back into that role even after running away from home all those years ago. It stirred up feelings from the war that he'd rather leave alone.
Still, it was hard to linger on those feelings when Sirius stood there in front of him, eyes bright and gleaming more than gray eyes had any right to. He nudged Remus with his shoulder and gave him a questioning look, but Remus shook it off. Wordlessly they each took one of Harry's hands and walked towards the ice cream parlor. They lifted the boy every so many steps so that he could swing merrily between them, bouncing over the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.