"Lie Low At Lupin's"
Pairing: Remus Lupin / Sirius Black
Rating: "M" for language and slash
DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional – that's F-I-C-T-I-O-N. It never happened, and is not real. It is the product of my own imagination. It contains descriptions of male slash (that's male/male homosexual relations). If you do not like this type of content, or if you find homosexuality or its practice offensive, please click the "Back" button or close your Internet browser NOW, and do not read any further. All characters and copyrights are owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers™ (AOL Time Warner), but this story is owned by me and is all my own work.
"Lie low at Lupin's for a while," Dumbledore had said. Why? Why did he have to tell Sirius to lie low at my place? Why not Dedalus's or Kingsley's, or even bloody Dung's? Surely the two troublemakers would get on like a house on fire! Anywhere but here! What the Hell was he thinking? Surely he must know how much it would hurt me, and haven't I suffered enough?
Apparently not.
I open the door, hearing scratching and pawing at its worn, tired green paint. And of all things I expected to see – one of my neighbours, perhaps? Dumbledore? Someone from the Order? – I did not expect to come face to face with the Grim. Nearly gave me a bloody heart attack! He sits there for a moment, tongue panting madly as if he's just run miles cross-country, before he barks. Adeep yet shrill bark, "Roo-ree!" (could that have been "Moony"?)He leaps up, pinning me to the floor, the fat, pink tongue darting all over my face as if I'd spilt milk over it or something. Almost kissing me. Struggling, I wrench the huge, black dog off my chest and stride grumpily towards the kitchen.
"Hello, Padfoot."
"Woof!"
"I'll get you some water," I say nonchalantly, going through to the kitchen and fetching a saucer.
"How about something a little stronger?" a gruff voice whispers in my ear. I jump, startled, and the saucer flies out of my hands and onto the kitchen floor. In any other room in the house the piece of crockery would have bounced, or at least survived. The kitchen's floor is made of stone. The saucer didn't stand a chance.
"Bloody Hell, Sirius! What in the blue fuck did you do that for?" I yell at him.
"Sorry," he says, grinning. I could have punched him. He's still the arrogantlittle wanker who broke my heart all those years ago.
"S'okay," I grumble. But it most certainly is not okay. He knows I hate being sneaked up on like that, especially this close to the full moon. It's two days away, and already I can feel it in my waters. God, I sound like an old housewife! But I can feel it. It's the wolf, trying to break out before its time, trying to devour me like I know it wants to. But it can't, because I took the wolfsbane potion two weeks ago so at least I can curl up in bed instead of having to be chained and shackled up at the Ministry like I had to before. Thank Merlin for small favours.
I repair the broken shards of saucer and place it back in its cupboard.
"Tea?" I ask, putting the kettle on.
"Thanks, Remus."
"And must you lurk around naked in the kitchen, Sirius? It's unhygienic." Only then does he look down at himself and realise that he is, well, starkers. Okay, so I wouldn't mind a naked Sirius in my kitchen, but he's smelly and filthy and lot at all looking his best. At least he has the grace to cover himself up.
"Whoops! I sort of forgot that I'd be in a… state of undress, shall we say."
"Evidently." Sirius turns to leave, preserving as much of his modesty as he can.
"Er… Can I borrow some clothes, Ree?"
"You know where I keep them." And he tramples upstairs to rummage through my drawers and leaves me alone to make the tea.
I add a good measure of Ogden's Firewhisky to his tea because he looks as if he needs it. Then I add one to my own tea, although I certainly don't need it.
"In the living-room when you're ready!" I call up the stairs. All I get in return is a grunt.
Typical Sirius. Same as always.
A few minutes later he comes back downstairs. He's wearing a pair of dark grey trousers which look ridiculous on him because, thanks to all the weight he has lost; they keep sliding halfway down his arse. He also managed to find a horrible orange jumper I'd forgotten I had (and now remember why I chose to forget about it). He slumps down onto the sofa beside me.
"Thanks," he says wearily, taking his cup. He drinks, and grimaces, tasting the burning liqueur. "Never had you down for a Firewhisky drinker, Remus."
"Sorry. I thought you could do with it," I say, pathetically.
"No, it's good. I just thought that you used to hate the stuff, that's all."
"A lot can change in fourteen years, Sirius. Especially when I didn't even know if my husband was still alive or not." He looks away, but I've already seen the tears start welling in his eyes.
"He was, Remus. He was," he whispers, and I see a flash of gold on his left hand for the first time since his arrival. I look guiltily down at my own hand, but all I see is bare flesh.
Just like our marriage, even the indent my wedding ring once made on my finger has faded.
We both finish our tea in stony silence. I look up and gaze into the steely grey eyes that I once fell in love with and feel nothing. Numbness overcomes by body.
"Sorry," I offer, but I immediately know that no amount of saying sorry will ever make it right. Nothing will ever put right the fact that I threw him out because I thought he was in league with You-Know-Who.
"I didn't know whether to come here or not," he says slowly, "but Dumbledore told me to lie low at your place and that he'd contact me here.
"Ah," I reply, trying desperately to remember how Sirius used to make me feel, but all I feel is pins and needles in my feet.
"Do you want something to eat?" I say. It is so easy to slip into the old rôle of good little housewife again; it's like an old, comfy pair of boots that let in water but you still refuse to throw away. Besides, it provides a good cover for the fact that I don't want him anywhere near me.
"No," he replies.
"Cigarette?" I offer. He takes one, and I do the same. Lighting them with my wand, he looks at me, quizzically, and giggles. "What?"
"You never used to smoke," he says, laughing. I start to laugh too, as I remember how I wouldn't let him anywhere near the house with the damn things before… well, before the whole Azkaban thing. We smoke without speaking to each other. His eyes keep trying to catch mine, but I keep looking away.
"Did you ever think of me?" he asks, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence between us.
"All the time."
"Did you think that I was guilty?"
"You know I did. But when I saw Peter on the map…"
"...You started to realise the truth."
"Yes."
"And were you surprised that I didn't do it?" he asks, eyes boring into mine, making me squirm. I'd forgotten how he used to be able to do that. It was from when we were first married, and we kept no secrets from each other. "You can say yes, you know."
"Yes, I was," I admit. "But I was relieved, more than anything. It meant that you were still the man I loved."
"Did you ever think about us?" he asks, moving closer so that he is touching my leg with his thigh. I flinch, but I don't back off, hoping that he hasn't noticed.
"Every day, Sirius."
"You took your wedding ring off, though."
"I did."
"Why?"
"Because," I say, guilt dripping off my words like the oil leaking from Sirius's old motorbike, "I thought that you were a murderer. I thought you were dead. Or worse, one of them."
"Fair enough. I'm sorry I suspected you."
"I'm sorry I did as well."
We sit in silence again for a few minutes, just looking into each other's eyes, just like we used to do in the earlier days when we would sit up and talk, and talk, about everything and nothing. Again, it is Sirius who resumes the conversation once more.
"Do you think that we could ever, you know, go back to the way things were?"
"No… yes… I don't know, Sirius," I flounder. "Maybe?"
"Really?" He perks up, cuddling himself up to my chest. But this time, I don't flinch away. I relish the feeling. Maybe it's just that I've craved another man's touch for so long, I don't know. But it just feels… comfortable. Nice, even. As if it had stopped raining after a long, cold thunderstorm, and the sun is creeping through the clouds, before a rainbow will erupt across the sky.
"Not sure. It's been so long…"
"We could give it a try, I suppose?" Sirius Black. Ever the optimist!
"And what makes you think that?"
"Because there are some things in life that are worth saving."
"So?"
"So, I think that seventeen years of marriage is one of those things…"
And I look into his eyes, all wide and pleading like a puppy dog looks when it's been naughty, welling up once more with tears he has waited years to cry away. And something inside me clicks. Everything seems so perfectly in place that I'm not even taken by surprise when he leans over and places his lips against mine. Instead of pushing them away, I openmy own lipsand accept the kiss, the kiss that I've longed for for so long. And when his tongue begins to stroke softly against my own, I know that I'm still in love with him.
I realise that I was never not in love with him.
We kiss and we kiss, for ever and for no time at all. Time has stopped, and all I can see is red stars dancing in front of my eyes. Of course we can go back to the way we were. We already are. And as he reaches out his hand and starts to draw circles along my back, the touch that I have craved for so long, the touch that he promised would only ever be mine, I melt into him, and we become, finally, all that we once were – two bodies, a single entity.
It is Sirius who breaks the kiss, to my disappointment. I didn't want it ever to end. But of course, there will be plenty more where that came from later. We have all the time in the world, now that we are together again, reunited at last.
"Moony?"
"Yes?"
"Will you…" he says quietly, putting on his best puppy-dog eyes to date. "Will you still be married to me?"
"Of course I will, Padfoot. Of course I will."
"Then come on, Moony!" Sirius commands, with new-found energy, tugging playfully at my jumper to make me stand up.
"Why? Where are we going?"
"Upstairs, to find your wedding ring, of course! Can't be still married and not wear your wedding ring, can you?" He leads the way, but the way upstairs to where I kept the ring safe all those years also happens to be the way up to the bedroom. And if I know Sirius Black even half as well as I once did, fourteen years without certain… goings-on would pretty much guarantee that it was sex, not a treasure hunt, which he has in mind. I know that looking for jewelery wasn't on my top list of priorities right now. Especially thanks to the way heis pawing at my back as we start to run up the stairs, his hands slipping lower and lower…
We never even make it to the bedroom…