Author's Note: Ok, I wrote this to continue my fic Enough. It takes place the summer afetr GoF, and Sirius and all those people Dumbledore said to get are at Remus's house. Gratuitous flashback ahead. ^_^
Disclaimer: I forgot this in my last one, but I don't own any characters or places or anything. The storyline is mine, and no flames please. Actually, I like this storyline, and seeing as how flames only inspire me to write more, I say flame away! It'll only bring another part to the story! Muahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!
Sirius peered into the clear depths of the crystal ball, trying to make his third eye (whatever that was) open. All he accomplished was feeling a bit foolish for being so desperate. He sighed tiredly and rubbed his temples. Two hours of trying to scry with the crystal only brought on a head-ache and more worries about Harry.
* Poor kid, all alone with those Muggles. I wish Dumbledore would let me take him here. I *am* his godfather after all. *
He brooded over that, but eventually just sighed.
* Dumbledore said he's safer there, and I trust his judgement. I'm just worried about him. *
He sipped his coffee and began looking for parchment, ink, and a quill. He had to do things quietly or the whole house would awake. The clock on the wall said it was nearly three in the morning. He considered waiting until after he'd gotten some sleep, but decided against it.
*I won't sleep if I don't write it now. Like I'll sleep anyway. *
Being in the same house with Remus again brought up some old feelings he'd almost hoped he'd quashed completely. When he'd met up with his old friend a year ago after escaping from Azkaban, he really hadn't noticed any of his old feelings. Then again, he'd been the tiniest bit preoccupied with killing Pettigrew, then Remus turned into a werewolf, then he himself had ben captured by the Ministry of Magic, and finally he was helped to escape by Harry and Hermione. There hadn't really been much time for soul-searching or reflections of his true feelings.
* I don't even know my true feelings for Remus. It's complicated. * He sighed again. This wasn't the time. He had a letter to write.
Just as he was putting the inky quill to the parchment, a slightly hoarse voice interrupted him.
"You look like hell," Remus Lupin said as he stood in the kitchen doorway. He was wearing the same shabby robes he'd been wearing that day, but they were more wrinkled and his grey-streaked hair was ruffled. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he was ready to faint from exhaustion.
"Thanks, Moony," Sirius said sarcastically, putting the quill down. "I could say the same thing about you. Couldn't sleep?"
"No. I've got too many things on my mind," Remus told him as he poured himself some coffee and sat down next to him. "What are you writing?"
"A letter to Harry. Thought I'd see if he was doing all right."
Remus glanced at the crystal ball on the table, then gave him an amused look. He flushed slightly, knowing how foolish everyone but Sibyl Trelawney must think him.
"Arabella lent it to me. Couldn't hurt to try," he said sheepishly.
"I understand. I worry about him, too. Has he written since school got out?"
Sirius shook his head and stared into his coffee mug. He swirled it with one hand, staring at the steam as a worried frown found its way onto his face. Remus reached out and covered his free hand on the table with long slender fingers. Confused though not really surprised, Sirius looked up to meet warm but tired brown eyes. He froze and couldn't help but remember...
He woke all at once to fingers gently brushing his bangs away from his forehead. He was too surprised to do anything but lay there pretending to be asleep. It actually felt kind of nice, but he tried to keep his expression from changing.
"Oh, Sirius, if only..." came a familiar voice, one that surprised him even more.
* Remus? What does he think he's doing? *
He was confused. His heart was beginning to beat faster for no apparent reason, and the fingers caressing his forehead suddenly became his whole world. But suddenly the contact ended. He heard Remus hesitate, the he was beeing shaken awake. He pretended to awaken, then grinned up at his friend.
"Asleep on the job, Padfoot?" Remus asked, his tone light but sounding forced to Sirius.
"Thanks for waking me. Binns will flunk me for sure if I don't get this done," he said, stretching. "What're you doing up so late?"
"I just got back from researching my term paper in DADA," came the answer.
"Ah. Then a bet you're too tired to help me out with this," he said, but gave a hopeful look that had melted female hearts for him. He wondered why he was doing that, seeing as how Remus was one of his best friends, not to mention a guy. But he wanted him to be with him for some reason that was misty and unformed.
"No, I'm not tired. What do you need help with?" Remus said as he plunked down in the chair across from him. Sirius sighed as he watched the fluid movement.
* He really is attractive. *
The thought came out of nowhere, and he realized that Remus was waiting for him to start. He just made up some problems, really just looking at the boy across from him who wouldn't meet his eyes. When he was done, he gave his best grin. Remus finally met his eyes and returned the smile, but it was tainted with a melancholy that made Sirius want to hug him and tell him that everything would be all right. But he didn't. He just sat in his chair, trying not to think about why his heart sped up whenever he glanced at him.
Sirius had been confused about that night for long time. He'd thought about it now and again in Azkaban, hating himself for his inaction. He felt he should've done something or said something, just so he could close the matter. For a time he had convinced himself he'd been imagining it all, all the small sidelong glances from Remus, all the times Remus had gone out of his way to do things for him, all the secret smiles that played on Remus's lips when he thought Sirius couldn't see. Before Lily and James had died, he thought it'd been suspicious, and that Remus was doing it so no one would think he was really Voldemort's spy. He hadn't trusted his own feelings for the werewolf, and might even have suspected him because of the way he felt.
But everything had changed now. Now he was in Remus's kitchen, staring into his love's eyes, and feeling very unsure of himself.
* I love him. But does he love me? Did he ever? Or was it just all a flight of fancy? *
* Only one way to find out. You've got to ask him. *
"Remus..." he began, but broke off, unsure how to continue.
"What is it, Sirius?" Remus asked, genuine concern in his voice and his hand tightening slightly around Sirius's.
Tingles ran up his arm. He transferred his gaze from those big brown eyes to their hands on the table. Slowly he turned his hand over to grip Remus's. He squeezed it slightly, and massaged the palm with his thumb. Remus didn't pull away, which made Sirius both elated and frightened.
"I just wanted to tell you that I . . . really appreciate everything you've done for me. You've been the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I know I haven't." He wanted to kick himself. This wasn't going to come out the way he thought it would.
"That's not true. I could never have made it this far without you."
Was it just him, or was the air in the room getting thicker? He was suddenly aware of how near they were to each other. He could lean over right then and kiss all the words away. Maybe that would be easier. He looked up again, meeting Remus's eyes and seeing undiluted raw love and longing in them, mirrors of his own. It frightened him to observe such potent emotions directed at him. It frightened him more than he thought possible. He couldn't say it now. He couldn't do anything except stare with shock.
A sudden tapping at the window broke the spell. Both men jumped at the noise, jerking their hands away from each other as if they were being burned. Sirius got up and let in the small brown owl. It landed on a chair back and Remus untied the package from it's feet. Sirius paid it and it flew out again.
"Who's it for?" Sirius asked, unable to stand the silence.
"Mundungus Fletcher," Remus said, then yawned broadly. He paused, casting an uninterpretable look at him. He cleared his throat. "Well, I think I'll go up to bed. I'm very tired."
"Ah," Sirius said intelligently, feeling the tension in the room heavy on his mind. "I think I'll do the same."
"What about your letter?"
"It can wait till the morning."
"Oh. Well, then."
There was another odd pause. Remus glanced at Sirius, then turned and began to walk out.
"Remus..."
"Yes?" the man turned sharply to face him, a yearning expression on his face.
"Sleep well."
Remus gave him a sad smile.
"Thank you, I will."
With that Sirius was left alone in the kitchen with nothing but his own cowardice to keep him company.
Another Author's Note: Wow that took longer than I thought it would. Please review, and tell the truth. Do you think Sirius was OOC? I didn't mean for it to turn out like this, but let me explain a bit. Sirius was in Azkaban being tortured with his own insecurities and faults for 12 years or so, and now he has a subconscious feeling that he doesn't deserve love because for so long all he saw was his worst. I know it sounds like that's just some pop-psychology BS that I just made up, but believe it or not I didn't. Anyway, pretty please review. @_@ ---(More puppy eyes)
Disclaimer: I forgot this in my last one, but I don't own any characters or places or anything. The storyline is mine, and no flames please. Actually, I like this storyline, and seeing as how flames only inspire me to write more, I say flame away! It'll only bring another part to the story! Muahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!
Sirius peered into the clear depths of the crystal ball, trying to make his third eye (whatever that was) open. All he accomplished was feeling a bit foolish for being so desperate. He sighed tiredly and rubbed his temples. Two hours of trying to scry with the crystal only brought on a head-ache and more worries about Harry.
* Poor kid, all alone with those Muggles. I wish Dumbledore would let me take him here. I *am* his godfather after all. *
He brooded over that, but eventually just sighed.
* Dumbledore said he's safer there, and I trust his judgement. I'm just worried about him. *
He sipped his coffee and began looking for parchment, ink, and a quill. He had to do things quietly or the whole house would awake. The clock on the wall said it was nearly three in the morning. He considered waiting until after he'd gotten some sleep, but decided against it.
*I won't sleep if I don't write it now. Like I'll sleep anyway. *
Being in the same house with Remus again brought up some old feelings he'd almost hoped he'd quashed completely. When he'd met up with his old friend a year ago after escaping from Azkaban, he really hadn't noticed any of his old feelings. Then again, he'd been the tiniest bit preoccupied with killing Pettigrew, then Remus turned into a werewolf, then he himself had ben captured by the Ministry of Magic, and finally he was helped to escape by Harry and Hermione. There hadn't really been much time for soul-searching or reflections of his true feelings.
* I don't even know my true feelings for Remus. It's complicated. * He sighed again. This wasn't the time. He had a letter to write.
Just as he was putting the inky quill to the parchment, a slightly hoarse voice interrupted him.
"You look like hell," Remus Lupin said as he stood in the kitchen doorway. He was wearing the same shabby robes he'd been wearing that day, but they were more wrinkled and his grey-streaked hair was ruffled. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he was ready to faint from exhaustion.
"Thanks, Moony," Sirius said sarcastically, putting the quill down. "I could say the same thing about you. Couldn't sleep?"
"No. I've got too many things on my mind," Remus told him as he poured himself some coffee and sat down next to him. "What are you writing?"
"A letter to Harry. Thought I'd see if he was doing all right."
Remus glanced at the crystal ball on the table, then gave him an amused look. He flushed slightly, knowing how foolish everyone but Sibyl Trelawney must think him.
"Arabella lent it to me. Couldn't hurt to try," he said sheepishly.
"I understand. I worry about him, too. Has he written since school got out?"
Sirius shook his head and stared into his coffee mug. He swirled it with one hand, staring at the steam as a worried frown found its way onto his face. Remus reached out and covered his free hand on the table with long slender fingers. Confused though not really surprised, Sirius looked up to meet warm but tired brown eyes. He froze and couldn't help but remember...
He woke all at once to fingers gently brushing his bangs away from his forehead. He was too surprised to do anything but lay there pretending to be asleep. It actually felt kind of nice, but he tried to keep his expression from changing.
"Oh, Sirius, if only..." came a familiar voice, one that surprised him even more.
* Remus? What does he think he's doing? *
He was confused. His heart was beginning to beat faster for no apparent reason, and the fingers caressing his forehead suddenly became his whole world. But suddenly the contact ended. He heard Remus hesitate, the he was beeing shaken awake. He pretended to awaken, then grinned up at his friend.
"Asleep on the job, Padfoot?" Remus asked, his tone light but sounding forced to Sirius.
"Thanks for waking me. Binns will flunk me for sure if I don't get this done," he said, stretching. "What're you doing up so late?"
"I just got back from researching my term paper in DADA," came the answer.
"Ah. Then a bet you're too tired to help me out with this," he said, but gave a hopeful look that had melted female hearts for him. He wondered why he was doing that, seeing as how Remus was one of his best friends, not to mention a guy. But he wanted him to be with him for some reason that was misty and unformed.
"No, I'm not tired. What do you need help with?" Remus said as he plunked down in the chair across from him. Sirius sighed as he watched the fluid movement.
* He really is attractive. *
The thought came out of nowhere, and he realized that Remus was waiting for him to start. He just made up some problems, really just looking at the boy across from him who wouldn't meet his eyes. When he was done, he gave his best grin. Remus finally met his eyes and returned the smile, but it was tainted with a melancholy that made Sirius want to hug him and tell him that everything would be all right. But he didn't. He just sat in his chair, trying not to think about why his heart sped up whenever he glanced at him.
Sirius had been confused about that night for long time. He'd thought about it now and again in Azkaban, hating himself for his inaction. He felt he should've done something or said something, just so he could close the matter. For a time he had convinced himself he'd been imagining it all, all the small sidelong glances from Remus, all the times Remus had gone out of his way to do things for him, all the secret smiles that played on Remus's lips when he thought Sirius couldn't see. Before Lily and James had died, he thought it'd been suspicious, and that Remus was doing it so no one would think he was really Voldemort's spy. He hadn't trusted his own feelings for the werewolf, and might even have suspected him because of the way he felt.
But everything had changed now. Now he was in Remus's kitchen, staring into his love's eyes, and feeling very unsure of himself.
* I love him. But does he love me? Did he ever? Or was it just all a flight of fancy? *
* Only one way to find out. You've got to ask him. *
"Remus..." he began, but broke off, unsure how to continue.
"What is it, Sirius?" Remus asked, genuine concern in his voice and his hand tightening slightly around Sirius's.
Tingles ran up his arm. He transferred his gaze from those big brown eyes to their hands on the table. Slowly he turned his hand over to grip Remus's. He squeezed it slightly, and massaged the palm with his thumb. Remus didn't pull away, which made Sirius both elated and frightened.
"I just wanted to tell you that I . . . really appreciate everything you've done for me. You've been the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I know I haven't." He wanted to kick himself. This wasn't going to come out the way he thought it would.
"That's not true. I could never have made it this far without you."
Was it just him, or was the air in the room getting thicker? He was suddenly aware of how near they were to each other. He could lean over right then and kiss all the words away. Maybe that would be easier. He looked up again, meeting Remus's eyes and seeing undiluted raw love and longing in them, mirrors of his own. It frightened him to observe such potent emotions directed at him. It frightened him more than he thought possible. He couldn't say it now. He couldn't do anything except stare with shock.
A sudden tapping at the window broke the spell. Both men jumped at the noise, jerking their hands away from each other as if they were being burned. Sirius got up and let in the small brown owl. It landed on a chair back and Remus untied the package from it's feet. Sirius paid it and it flew out again.
"Who's it for?" Sirius asked, unable to stand the silence.
"Mundungus Fletcher," Remus said, then yawned broadly. He paused, casting an uninterpretable look at him. He cleared his throat. "Well, I think I'll go up to bed. I'm very tired."
"Ah," Sirius said intelligently, feeling the tension in the room heavy on his mind. "I think I'll do the same."
"What about your letter?"
"It can wait till the morning."
"Oh. Well, then."
There was another odd pause. Remus glanced at Sirius, then turned and began to walk out.
"Remus..."
"Yes?" the man turned sharply to face him, a yearning expression on his face.
"Sleep well."
Remus gave him a sad smile.
"Thank you, I will."
With that Sirius was left alone in the kitchen with nothing but his own cowardice to keep him company.
Another Author's Note: Wow that took longer than I thought it would. Please review, and tell the truth. Do you think Sirius was OOC? I didn't mean for it to turn out like this, but let me explain a bit. Sirius was in Azkaban being tortured with his own insecurities and faults for 12 years or so, and now he has a subconscious feeling that he doesn't deserve love because for so long all he saw was his worst. I know it sounds like that's just some pop-psychology BS that I just made up, but believe it or not I didn't. Anyway, pretty please review. @_@ ---(More puppy eyes)