Title: The Lights Went Out
Rating: PG
Summary: Sirius Black comes back from the Veil, but forgets everything. He must live with Remus like muggles in order to escape the eyes of Voldemort. One night, the lights go out and Sirius is afraid…
Disclaimer: The characters (Sirius Black and Remus Lupin) are all creations of JK Rowling.
A/N: The story could be a bit confusing at first, but er… Um. I hope you enjoy it. This is told from Remus' point of view… This is my first HP fic in a long, long time. Please review!
Calloused Hands
The lights went out.
I lay awake on my bed, my eyes staring into the shadows casted by the moon through the window. My eyes travel from the shadows to the source, the one thing I most feared and hated. The crescent moon, pale and mysterious against the black sky. The presence of the moon made me squirm a bit uncomfortably, yet it took my breath away. Two more weeks, I thought bitterly.
Ever since Sirius… lost himself, I was left to transfigure alone into the monster I hated and loved, me. Without a companion, my werewolf form began to get restless, and took the pleasure of hurting itself instead. I would wake up alone, naked on the cold floor, shivering in pain and fatigue, scratches and cuts roamed my body. If only Sirius had not lost himself, I thought.
Sirius.
My best friend, my soul mate, my Padfoot, was no longer himself. I had been so delighted, so, so delighted the day Hermione Granger skillfully, upon reading an ancient Necromancy book, retracted Sirius from the land of the dead.
Well, not really. It wasn't really the land of the dead. It was more like the waiting room to die, and all that is left for one to do there is wait, wait, wait. Time is not a variable within the Veil. This was the extent to which Dumbledore told me. I had yet to break the news to Sirius; Sirius, who'd forgot who he is; Sirius, who'd forgot Harry; Sirius, who'd forgot Moony. He can no longer perform magic of any sort. It was simply… stripped of his body. This does not upset me as much. I would love a Padfoot, even if he is a muggle. But I ask myself, can I love a Padfoot who is not my Padfoot?
Dumbledore said his memory probably had something to do with the variable of Time that was not present in the Veil.
But the pain aches. I would sit there and watch Sirius fall asleep, while knowing that Sirius did not know who I was. He knew what my name was, of course, but he only knew me as a person who has been assigned to ensure his safety, a person merely a person, not the best friends that we once were. Sirius would mutter "Goodnight, Remus" but the words would sound dead and unfamiliar. It was merely a word and a name, with no meaning behind it. With no past.
It was as if Sirius was dead. Well, the Sirius I knew anyway.
This Sirius was like a child. A baby, needing to be nurtured.
But the frustration, the frustration drove me crazy. I did not let this show when I was with Sirius, but when I retreat to my room after Sirius falls asleep, the nightmares and the haunting thoughts begin.
Why can't he remember me?
I scorned at myself to feel so selfish. But the desperation was one that no one understood, the desperation of feeling Sirius being Sirius again. Yet I have not told Sirius a single thing. I was afraid. Afraid that Sirius would still not remember.
Afraid of the rejection.
The indifference.
The pain.
I longed to grace my hands over the sleek wood of my wand. But I knew I mustn't let myself. Though Sirius had lost all his magic, Voldemort still wanted him. Therefore, Dumbledore had put this house under a spell, that as long as magic is not used, Voldemort would be unable to see them, even if he is standing outside the window, peeking in. But Dumbledore insisted that I keep my wand, just in case he becomes the second Peter Pettigrew. I nearly laughed, HA! Dumbledore! Betraying the Light!
I stopped in mid-thought as I heard a muffled cry. Sirius! I flung the blankets aside and ran out the room, accidentally running into something in the darkness. I groaned and cursed under my breath. Another cry, this time louder. I ran out my bedroom, and flung the door of Sirius' room open. "What is it, Sirius? What's wrong?"
It was dark, but not completely dark. My werewolf eyes enabled me to see better in the dark than most people. I just made out the outlines of a small, curled up body on the bed, rocking back and forth.
I felt a lump in the back of my throat rising up dangerously fast. I swallowed and said, "Sirius?" But I could not bring my feet to reach Sirius.
There was a long siren. I jumped a little in surprise. I heard a small sob escape from Sirius. The crying of Sirius blended in the howl of the sudden siren. Like a baby, Sirius continued to rock back and forth, muttering things under his breath.
My heart ached. I slowly walked toward Sirius and sat down on the bed with him. I silently placed a hand on Sirius' back, patting it in reassurance. I swallowed again, the lump stayed in the back of my throat before sinking down again to my stomach. I pulled Sirius into my arms, murmuring to him. I felt him sob against my chest.
I tightened my jaw and told myself to stop acting like a buffoon and take care of Sirius. I opened his mouth and as smoothly as I could make the words, said, "Padfoot, tell me what's wrong?"
I had not thought of using that word, but now that the word did come out, I felt no response from Sirius. He had only whispered, "I'm scared of the dark."
I felt my heart plunge. He does not remember. I told himself, over and over again. You must take care of Sirius. You must take care of Sirius. Stop worrying about yourself all the time. Sirius needs you. I took a deep breath before saying, my voice strangely composed and gentle, "It's alright, Padfoot. It's alright…"
I felt Sirius snuggle against my chest. My right hand still stroking Sirius' back, I let his other hand caress his dark, tangled mane. I felt my heart beating faster. Memories came flooding back. My first transformation with Sirius, and James, and Peter. That stupid rat. The day I met Sirius. The day I was bitten by the werewolf. The day I lost James and Lily. The day I lost Sirius, who had came back, only to be taken by the Veil. I was hurting. I could not stop hurting. The pain in my body throbbed. My hands were numb. "Do you know who I am, Sirius?"
Sirius had stopped crying, he looked up at me. Those pale blue eyes that I had looked upon so many times, those pale blue eyes that refused to recognize me. "Of course. You are Remus Lupin."
I could not help it. I nearly cried out. In anguish, in desperation, in frustration, in love, in hate. My eyes began to moisten. I said, unsteadily, "I know. I don't mean my name. I mean, do you know who I am? Do you remember who I am, Padfoot?"
I felt Sirius lower his head onto my chest again as if deep in thought. The room was still, a dull, high-pitched sound began to fill my left ear. The silence was deafening. I was about to tell him to forget it when I felt his hands upon my face. The same calloused hands that stirred the Animagus potion. The same calloused hands that helped me tend to my werewolf wounds. The same calloused hands that poked me in the morning when I was still at school. The same calloused hands now upon my face. It graced my nose, my cheeks, my lips, my forehead, my eyebrows, and stopped at my eyes. I took a long, wavering breath. He paused at my eyes. I felt more tears come. They slide down his fingers, onto my cheek, the corner of my nostril. He gently wiped a tear.
"Wolf child."
I felt his body shake and heard his cries. I let out a soft howl and embraced him tighter in my arms. I brought up my hand and a tear splattered upon it, the glass that separated us, shattered. Whose was the tear? Mine or his?