Room 101 | Chapter Four

A Harry Potter Fanfiction By Majokai Yukiko

Pairing: Sirius + Remus

Warning: Slash.

Rating: PG-15, going up soon

Spoilers: A 'what-if' story following Prisoner of Azkaban

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J K Rowling, Scholastic Books and their associates.

A/N: Well, usually I'll take this space over here to reply to some comments made by readers. But as this chapter was written long before it is to be posted, I guess I don't see much of a point, is there?

Dedicated to Ally. Merry Christmas 2003

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"The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell and a hell of heaven." Milton, Paradise Lost

"Ah—Choo!" Sirius sneezed loudly, after removing the lid of yet another dusty box, once again cursing his lover under his breath. Remus had very explicitly demanded that Sirius made himself useful over the weekends and clean up the attic while Harry and he would be out at Diagon Alley, shopping for the boy's school supplies. In some sense, he was probably glad that Remus had offered to take up the task.  How would he know how to talk to Harry without saying something insensitive? Still…

There was no need to volunteer him for spring cleaning, right?!

The dark-haired man rubbed at his already red nose self-pitying, flexing his fingers, ready to sort out another box of memories. And then he smiled. It was a box filled with his school paraphernalia. Right on top was the dark blue robe he had worn at the Yule Ball in his fourth year. Sirius had to grin at the memories of that night. Taking James' terrible advice, Sirius went on to drink himself silly before confessing his undying love for Remus. He had only planned to drink enough for Dutch courage, but he had not expected Bill Weasley to spike the punch. Anyhow, Remus had not believed him, but as a friend he had helped nurse him through the mother of all hangovers the next morning. It took Sirius one full month later to once again work up enough courage to profess.

He set the robe aide. It was still in perfect condition, and wizarding robes were hard to go out of style. Perhaps Harry might want it, since it was already too small for Sirius now anyway.

Next up was an old biscuit tin filled with some of the Marauders' inventions in their most glorious days. Sirius smirked, imagining the look on Molly Weasley's face if he ever gave these to her beloved twin sons. She would probably flip, Sirius figured. And Dumbledore would have him arrested for the mayhem caused in his school.

Maybe I could persuade them to just use it on Snape. Surely the greasy-haired freak would appreciate a quick trip down memory lane when these little gadgets were used on him.

But Remus would not, a small voice piped up. Moony never really approve of the pranks James and he pulled on Snape, enough though he had always turned a blind eye when they did. Most of the time he would rather not take part in the operation at all, or stand around and look pretty.

And what a pretty picture he made too. Sirius put down the biscuit tin to pull out a metal photo frame. It had a photo of Remus the first time the gang had been to the beach together, when they were sixteen, after he had ran away from home. Sirius had been eager to try out the new muggle camera Uncle Alphard had bought him, snapping various candid photos of the Marauders when they least expected it. He had particularly liked this photo of Remus, looking out at the sea with the wind in his hair and a smile on his face. Sirius never thought anyone could even look so beautiful then, so…at peace with himself.

Sirius removed the photo from its frame, tucking it into his shirt pocket, and making a mental note to slip it into his wallet later. Then he frowned and pulled out the photo again. There was something strange about that photo. Something that he could not place a finger to…what was it? He pursed his lips together and tried to remember. Nothing came to mind.

Strange…Sirius shrugged, keeping the photo again.

***

Harry's spirits dropped even lower when they reached Diagon Alley. The last time he was here, he was with Ron and Hermione. But now…out of the Wonder Trio, one was already gone.

It was not fair! Out of the three, Hermione was the cleverest, the one with the most potential to make it big in the wizarding world, even more so than Harry, who only had baseless fame to fall back on. Why? Why did she have to die so young and so unaccounted for?

A strong hand clasped gently but firmly down on his shoulders, squeezing it slightly. He looked up to meet the concerned look on Remus' face, and forced a smile. Side by side, they walked into Flourish and Blotts, Harry to the right where he could get his school books for the fourth year, Remus to the left where he could pick out some books useful for his job as a curse breaker.

Remus watched worriedly at the slumped back view of his ward. He could understand it was hard for Harry to handle the death of one of his best friends. After all, Remus had felt the same way when James died. But the difference then was that Remus was older then than Harry was now, and he probably had the maturity that Harry did not to handle his grief.

He would pull through, Remus silently assured himself, casually browsing through shelves of books on curses and counter-curses. He was the son of James and Lily after all.

Time passed quickly when one was having fun. Soon, an hour had passed. Remus took a look at his pocket watch and frowned. Harry should be here soon. And he was about done with his own shopping too, Remus smiled, hugging two thick books close to his chest. It was times like these that reminded him of his old school days, where books and knowledge were all that he sought. That he could simply bury himself deep inside his books and ignore the rest of the world.

Of course, that was if James and Sirius could let him have a few moments of silence.

As he passed an unexplored shelf, the silver and black words on a bright red spine caught his eye. He stopped, tugging the huge thick book out. 'Blood and Sex Magic'; the words on the spine read. Remus thought back fondly to just a week ago when Bill teased him in the office about sexual healing from Sirius. The werewolf grinned, his curiosity perked.

'NO!' A voice inside his head screamed, sending his vision into a world of exploding green and red dots. Remus clutched tightly to the side of his throbbing head, ignoring the books that had fallen to the floor as he crouched down, whimpering in agony at the sudden pain. 

"Remus? You alright?" The pain slowly subsided, to the point when Remus could look up again before fainting. He saw Harry's furrowed brows, frowning at him worriedly.

"Did you say anything?" He asked. The boy frowned even deeper.

"I asked if you were fine."

"No, I mean, did you say anything before that? Shout or anything?" Harry shook his head, kneeling down on one knee beside Remus, picking up the books from the floor and adding them to his pile. He had assumed Remus would want these. The brunette massaged his temples, and then took out his purse from his robes and pushed them into Harry's hands, telling the boy to pay for the books himself while he waited for him outside to help carry the books. When Harry blinked confusedly at him, Remus only grinned gingerly.

"Silver. Werewolves. Ouch. Remember?" 

True to his word, Remus had carried nearly all their packages when Harry left Flourish and Blotts. It was terribly convenient for them, that Grimmauld Place was only a twenty minutes walk from Diagon Alley. It was probably one of the reasons why the Blacks had chosen to build their ancestral home there instead of in the wizarding world where the other old wizarding families had done, such as the Burrow and Malfoy Mansion.

Another would be that it was hard for them to be attacked by any Dark wizards when the house was just set right in the middle of muggle London. Or at least, that was what Harry thought, until Sirius laughed outright at this suggestion and said that if there were any Dark wizards other than Voldemort around, it would be the Black family. In terms of deeds and history, the Blacks were far more notorious than any other family in the community.

Just as they reached the gateway between Diagon Alley and the muggle world, an oddly dressed man, odd even by wizards' standards, stopped them. The strange man leaned in close to Remus, as if trying to peer into every pore on that feline face. The werewolf narrowed his eyes and waited.

"Do you want your fortunes read?" The man asked.

"You are a soothsayer," Remus muttered airily, stepping to his side, wanting to brush past the strange man.

"Yes, and I think you should have your future read."

Remus shook his head. "No thanks," he declined politely, and then grabbed for Harry's hand, pulling the boy back into muggle London. Remus kept walking; barely slow enough for Harry to catch up. The boy panted slightly as he jogged to keep up with the other man. Why was Remus so afraid of a soothsayer? He wondered.

Professor Trelawny's words at the Christmas dinner last year came into mind. "He positively fled when I offered to crystal-gaze for him."

They did not stop walking or slow down until they were a safe distance away from Diagon Alley. Finally, Remus smiled apologetically at Harry and waited for the boy to catch his breath.

"Why?" Harry managed to choke up, bracing his hands against his knees tiredly. Remus shrugged.

"When you are a werewolf, you won't want your fortune teller to announce that fact out loud in a place like Diagon Alley. Or anywhere else, for that matter. I rather like that place, and really won't appreciate being banned from it just because of what I could not help being."

***

The fireplace glowed with a chilly green fire when they got back, announcing the impending arrival of a visitor to Grimmauld Place.

"I wonder who it could be," Remus asked out loud, taking out his wand from inside his robe and lifted the wards from the fireplace for a moment, admitting his visitor in.

The Floo network was a curious thing. Some fireplaces, such as those at the shops in Hogsmeade were almost permanently accessible, except when the shops were closed. Most homes, however, had their fireplace protected by various wards, so as to keep out unwanted visitors when nobody was at home.

The sallow, jarring face of Severus Snape soon appeared in the flames, before the Potions Master stepped out of the fire, lips pursed tightly into a thin line.

"I see that you are finally home, Lupin," Snape sneered, brushing the soot and dist off his robes. It seemed that he had been waiting for a long time.

"I'm terribly sorry, Severus," the brunette replied almost pleasantly, while he quickly rebuilt the wards. "Harry," he said without turning around. "Would you mind helping Sirius to tidy out the attic? He had been taking an awfully long time." If possible, Snape pressed his lips even more tightly together.

Harry shook his head and slowly walked up the stairs, occasionally turning back to watch the adults. But every time he did, Remus would smile guilelessly back at him. It was obvious that they were not going to say anything while he was still around. With a huff of irritation at being once again treated like a child, Harry ran up the remaining steps leading to the attic where his godfather was.

Back in the living room, Remus waited for Harry to be out of hearing range. Snape opened his mouth, as if to speak, when Remus beat him to it and shouted, "it's rude to eavesdrop, Harry!" There was a slight gasp above and then more footsteps before the house was silent again. It was a while before Remus spoke again, but eventually he did.

"I take it that you got my owl, Severus." Remus walked into the kitchen and pulled out two cups form the top shelf. "Tea?" he offered. Snape started, as if in shock and then nodded after a moment's hesitation. The house was soon filled with the soft tinkling noises of tea making, and the sweet aroma of Earl Grey in the air. For that moment in time, they were not wizards, not old rivals at school, but just two countrymen taking a brief respite from their lives. It was a pity that this moment had to be broken.

"I must admit," Snape said slowly, carefully choosing his words for once, "it was surprising for me to receive your post. May I enquire why?"

Remus sat the cups on the table and then turned back to the kitchen cabinets searching for creamer and sugar cubes.

"You know why, Severus." The werewolf replied softly, habitually dropping three cubes of sugar into Snape's cup of tea. The Potions Master nearly smiled but stopped himself in time.

"You remembered," he commented, in what he hoped to be a neutral tone. But Remus kept his head low, idly stirring his tea, resolutely refused to give any answer to that offhanded comment. Snape sighed, and continued with their previous conversation.

"You know the consequences of your request, don't you?"

Remus nodded, lifting his cup to his lips to hide his expression. For the first time in many years, Snape let his concern for another show. He watched Remus Lupin carefully, studying the young but weathered face for any sighs of regret. This decision that Lupin was making was grave, the consequences were dire, so much so that Snape was afraid to ask what had brought about it.

There was silence, until the brunette replaced his cup and saucer on the table, a hand reaching across the wooden surface to cover Snape's larger but no less calloused one.

Snape stared disbelievingly at their joined hands and smiled fractionally, turning his palm up to entwine Remus' fingers with his own. 

***

Sirius was about to unpack yet another box of junk when his godson burst into the attic, plopping himself down on one of the many still unopened boxes around. Sirius grinned and turned back to scrape at the edge of the masking tape that sealed the box.

"Had a fun shopping trip?" he asked, pulling and tugging at a small nip of tape.

"Yeah, well, it's alright," Harry replied distractedly, still a little upset at being dismissed like a child. If he had any thoughts that he was currently behaving like one, he refused to let them show.

"Then tell me, what's wrong?" Sirius finally managed to pull the decade-old tape off the box. He took hold of the two flaps of the box, and was about to open it when he heard Harry's next words.

"It's Snape. He is here and Remus refused to let me stay in the room with him there," Harry pouted. Sirius' hands stiffened involuntarily. Mechanically, he got up from the floor with a scowl on his face.

"What do they have to say that cannot be heard by you?' Sirius muttered, more to himself than to the teenager in the room with him.

"Exactly—Sirius, are you okay?" Harry got up too, worried at the sudden anger emanating from Sirius' very pores. It was just a visit from Snape, right? Granted, the Potions Master was one of the most detestable people anyone could ever know. And given that Sirius had spent all seven of his Hogwarts years with that man, it was perfectly understandable if Sirius hated him tot eh very core.

But he did not. That much Harry had known. Though Sirius refused to admit it, Snape had earned for himself quite some amount of Sirius' gratitude. If not for the many days and nights the Potions Master had spent brewing the Veritaserum potion for the trial, Sirius might not have gained his freedom. So why this anger?

Watching Sirius stormed out of the room, Harry's first thought was to stop his godfather lest things ended up very badly. Professor or not, Harry refused to see Remus and Sirius quarrel on Snape's account.

Harry took a step forward. And then he stopped. He glanced back at the half-opened box on the floor. Three was something in there, something that called to him like a Siren's song, like moth to fire. Slowly, he reached out a hand to uncover the flap. Right at the top of its contents was a small leather-bound book. For a moment, Harry thought he could feel the magic swirling around it. It was familiar, somehow. Then it struck him. He realized what it was that attracted him and faltered.

He should have recognized that magical aura from the start. It was similar to…to the aura that surrounded Riddle's nefarious diary too.

Without a word, Harry pocketed the book and hurried downstairs, hopefully in time to stop the argument that was bound to take place.

***

End of Chapter Four

Continue to Chapter Five