Disclaimer: The characters and ideas used in this story all belong to J.K Rowling.
A/N: I like the plot of this one although I'm not really sure it's done very well. It's from Remus' point of view. Review please!
Warnings: This story contains mild slash between Sirius and Remus. If you don't like it then kindly press the back button and spare me the bother of reading poorly written flames.
Freedom
We sit in the basement kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld place, going about our regular morning routines. Sirius bustles around, conducting his wand which is cooking both eggs and kippers on the stove. The tea pot is whistling. I sit at the long table, reading the latest edition of The Daily Prophet, awaiting the food to be served.
Sirius sits down across from me, gesturing to see the paper. Undoubtably he wishes to read what is reported of the events at Hogwarts. Taking the pages away from me, he disappears briefly behind them. Something does not feel right.
Then it strikes me. He fell. He's dead. The dead will never be resurrected even by the most powerful magic known to wizards. I stop and think. No one knows what mysteries the veil hides. Could there be a way?
"Sirius . . . " I utter softly.
The paper rustles and he is looking at me once again. His piercing blue eyes are knowing. I realize that he has not said a word to me. Sirius always speaks. No matter what kind of situation you're in. He always has something to say. It was always one of our prudent differences.
"Are...are you really here? Are we really making breakfast together?" I ask dreading his answer, somehow knowing what it will be.
Sirius simply shakes his head. No. He then stands from his position and walks around the table to sit next to me. Taking my hand into his, he looks me straight in the eye. His lips are forming silent words yet I hear them all the same.
"I am always here with you. Through everything you now face and will have to face in the future. I love you."
A feeling of deep comfort seeps through my body, as I look into his eyes for one last time. One last kiss. It is gentle. Reassuring. Perfect.
And then he stands again. Looking away from my face he begins his walk. I follow. He walks up the stairs and into the hallway. I realize that it is light and welcoming. The portrait of Mrs. Black no longer taints the wall.
I fall back, watching Sirius continue to walk. He reaches the door leading to the outside and grasps the handle with a firm grip. He opens it and simply walks out. But it symbolizes so much more to me. He is no longer in a cage. He can walk out of Grimmauld place as he desired for many months. People will no longer cringe upon seeing him. The door closes.
Suddenly I am sitting up in my bed. Our bed. The bed that was shared with him. Tears are flowing freely down my face and I sit up. Somehow I want to see if it was real. Pulling on my dressing gown, I head down the stairs, passed the shelf containing house elves.
I walk into the hallway once again and am met by the most comforting site yet. Her portrait no longer resides on the wall. The woman that brought her son so much grief is no longer a memory. Sirius is now the one who is remembered. He is remembered as an innocent man. The man who aided the world in destroying the greatest fear of all.
A/N: Be nice and hit the review button. :D.