Chapter Two
The werewolf lifted its head slightly, listening.
Something had disturbed its sleep.
There was something...different in the air.
A scent?
A sound?
His muzzle disturbed the dust around him, blowing it in tiny clouds around his face.
It was almost dawn.
Was that the reason he felt so uneasy?
Human thought began to invade, began to wash away the blissful night of not caring, not feeling.
Remus rolled onto his back, gazing at the cellar ceiling above him. The sky outside was slowly growing lighter.
He was tired. He hadn't slept.
Something was definitely different...
Then Remus noticed the dull ache that had haunted him for two years had gone.
Is that it then? Am I to forget him so easily?
He sat up, tasting dry blood on his mouth, and tentatively touched the gash on his cheek.
Just another scar for the collection.
Remus slowly tested the rest of his body, satisfied there was nothing seriously wrong with him, and then stood shakily.
For the first time since who knew when he was hungry.
Ravenous, actually.
Guilt flooded him, thinking of how suddenly he felt good, normal. Though he was still haunted by his deep sadness, it was much more bearable.
He made the slow climb out of the cellar, unlocking it then hauling himself into the kitchen.
He stretched his thin limbs. Nothing broken this time, but quite a few new gashes. One on his forearm in particular was bleeding profusely.
Remus grabbed a tea towel, wrapping it around his arm, as he awkwardly turned on the kettle.
Even his need for firewhisky had diminished...but not that much.
He grabbed a bottle from the cupboard and took a quick gulp to help deaden the pain of his wounds.
He shivered slightly. He was naked and covered in dust.
Still, he was too tired to do much about it.
He started the fire once more, pulled on his old robe and settled onto the sofa to watch the sun rise fully, bottle still in hand, though he no longer felt to uncontrollable urge to drink from it. Still, he took several more gulps, more from habit than need.
After a few minutes he began to feel the pleasant buzz of the beginnings of oblivion.
He knew he must look awful, his body thinner than it had ever been, unshaven, unwashed, and now complete with several cuts and scratches.
What did he care? Who did he have to look presentable for?
His eyes were just beginning to slip closed when he heard movement in the cottage.
Suddenly fully alert, he rummaged in his desk for his wand, standing to face the door, pushing back the slight feeling of dizziness from the alcohol and slight loss of blood.
There were definite footsteps making their way up the hallway towards the living room.
Slow, even steps.
Remus gripped his wand more tightly, blinking his eyes furiously to quell the nausea threatening to overwhelm him.
Then the figure entered the room.
My God...
I'm hallucinating!
It's an apparition...can't be real...can't...
Remus' eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed heavily onto the floor.
He'd fallen asleep there, huddled in the corner by the bedroom window, but his sleep was anything but restful.
He awoke at dawn, his body aching abominably from being curled up on the cold floor for several hours.
Stretching awkwardly, Sirius shuffled slowly into the bathroom, arms and legs stinging unmercifully as circulation returned to them.
He's gone, he thought dully. Remus is gone.
Over the year Sirius had spent at Grimmauld Place, his body had filled out again, and even his hair was again thick and shiny, only the fewest of grey hairs marring the otherwise black locks. Physically, he was the picture of health, although pale from lack of sun, except for his eyes.
The eyes that stared wildly back from his reflection were as haunted and shadowed as when he'd first left Azkaban.
There was a muffled thump and click from the kitchen.
Who the fuck...?
Wand outstretched, he edged out of the bathroom, flattening himself against the wall.
Thump. Muted muttering. No, not the kitchen – the living room now.
Sirius tried to be as noiseless as possible as he strode the length of the hall, but impatience made his footfalls heavier than he'd meant them to be.
He lunged into the living room, expelliarmus! dying on his lips as he stared in utter disbelief at the gaunt figure in front of him.
Remus? You're not dead?
For it was Remus, but not as Sirius remembered him.
You're not dead!
Oh – last night – right – full moon – transformation, he thought all at once, belatedly recalling that Remus had had a cellar built for these times. Sirius stepped cautiously toward his friend.
And Remus, white with fright and pain, collapsed.
Tenderly Sirius gathered the other man in his arms, heedless of the blood soaking into his clothes. "'S okay," he murmured into Remus' hair. "I'm here. It's okay. I'm sorry, Moony – so bloody sorry I wasn't more help in the battle, but I don't care. I'm here now; I'll take care of you."
Carrying Remus into the bedroom, he laid him carefully on the bed, placing a gentle kiss on the other man's brow before rushing off to find bandages, warm water, and a flannel.
He hasn't had a transformation so bad since... I dunno... Didn't he take the Wolfsbane?
Supplies gathered, he gently dipped a soft flannel into the water, bathing away the dust and blood from Remus' exhausted body.
He's so thin... How could I not have seen this? Where the hell did all these scars come from? He didn't have these... I could swear it...
A gnawing disquiet settled along his spine. Sirius sat back and surveyed his friend.
This is Remus... Isn't it? I could swear there wasn't this much grey in his hair before the battle... And these scars. I know I don't remember them, but he's obviously had them for awhile...
Oh, something is very, very wrong here...Sirius shook his head violently clear of all the nagging questions. I won't wake him. I won't.
Instead he forced himself to finish bathing and dressing Remus' many wounds, mindful of a particularly nasty gash on one forearm that needed a quick healing spell to close it first. Finally, deciding against pajamas for fear of waking the man, he tucked the blankets around Remus and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him as he went.
He felt utterly drained.
Sighing heavily, he headed back into the living room. The firewhisky bottle had tipped to the floor when Remus had collapsed, and the small room stank of it. Sirius cleaned it up the best he could, but the odour lingered. He cracked open the window a bit for the fresh air, and tried to ignore it.
Oh hell, he thought after a few minutes. Wonder if he's got any more? Ah, it can wait... I'll ask him later.
The small desk was just as cluttered as he remembered it, and he picked up the topmost of a stack of Daily Prophets, some of which were starting to yellow at the edges.
Taking the paper into the kitchen, Sirius threw it on the table while he began rummaging through the cupboards for something edible. He found some stale crackers and dusty teabags, but little else. Wrinkling his nose, he left them alone. In the fridge he fared better – bread, cheese, some juice.
After making a quick sandwich, Sirius made himself comfortable at the battered kitchen table, sitting in one chair with his feet propped up on the other.
He picked up the newspaper, glancing idly at the date.
And froze.
That... That's just... not possible...
He flung the Daily Prophet aside in utter horror, sandwich forgotten.
Two years? Two years gone?Frantically ransacking the kitchen cupboards again, he happened upon Remus' not-so-secret stash of firewhisky. He grabbed a bottle of it and headed back into the living room.
Misprint. It was a misprint. Had to be. His hands began to shake as he pawed through the stack of old newspapers on the desk.
Except, he realized with horrifying certainty, it wasn't.
Remus woke slowly but kept his eyes closed, burrowing further into the pillows. He had been having the most wonderful dream...
Everything had been back to normal. Sirius was there, whispering in his ear, holding him, comforting him.
Remus smiled into his pillow, wanting to hold onto the dream for as long as possible, but the threads of reality started pulling the dream apart.
The pain of his wounds began to throb, causing him to finally open his eyes.
He heard the deep even breathing next to him, became aware of the soft weight of an arm possessively curled over his waist...
As slowly as he could, not daring to think what he would see, he rolled over and came face to face with a mass of silky black hair.
Has to be a dream...has to be!
He sat up, inching back from the man asleep on his bed, intent on getting to his wand.
It's not him. It's an imposter.
God, he smells so good...
Remus paused, perched on the end of his bed, the arm now lying across his legs carelessly.
With trembling fingers he reached out to touch the soft dark hair, barely believing it could be real. It was like the finest silk, running through his fingers like tendrils of mist.
More daring, he leaned in to breathe deep of the familiar scent.
Sirius...
He looks just the way he did two years ago.
Still, Remus couldn't bring himself to believe it. It could be a hallucination, it could be...
Polyjuice Potion! Someone found a hair of his and turned themselves into him to taunt me...but that theory died as quickly as it was thought.
It just couldn't be possible that it could really be him.
But the bond...his heart felt fuller than it had in years, he felt...alive.
Oh god...
With a fluttering heart he bent to softly kiss that smooth brow, lingering to breathe in the familiar scent.
God, god, god...
As much as he wanted to stay, as much as he needed to see those eyes open and gaze at him, he needed even more to get away.
He carefully edged the arm off of his legs so he could finally get up, noticing with a small amount of embarrassment that he was naked. Also, he was clean and his wounds had been dressed.
So many emotions were coursing through him and he found he couldn't handle them all at once. His heart was swelling with a cautious joy but he was still scared. More scared than he had been in a long time.
Why was Sirius back? Was it only temporary? Would he be taken away again?
Remus found his robe on the floor beside the bed, pulled it on then went to the kitchen, pausing to grab his wand which had been carefully placed on his bedside table.
He needed a drink, a strong one.
He pulled a bottle of firewhisky from the cupboard, popped the cap and took a huge gulp before sitting at the table to think.
What to do...After a few sips his fear began to fade.
The veil...he had clearly seen Sirius fall through it. No-one had ever returned from it before. What had pulled him back? Or thrown him out? Or...
His head hurt from thinking too much and he set the bottle down to massage his temples.
Eyes closed, he was fully aware when the atmosphere in the room changed.
Then soft hands gently pulled his own away from his head and took their place.
Remus opened his eyes and jumped from his seat.
"I...um....I mean....er....oh god."
Remus could only stare at Sirius, his dark hair tousled from sleep, a tentative smile on his curved lips.
"You look like you've seen a ghost Re."
Remus didn't mean to take a step backwards, it was just a reflex action, but he saw the flicker of emotion cross Sirius' face.
"Maybe I have." Remus whispered, facing his life mate, the table between them. He took up the bottle and took another large swig. Then, heart pounding and breaking at the same time, he slowly raised his wand, pointing it directly at the other man.
"Who are you?"
Sirius took a cautious step backwards, his eyes narrowed. Slowly he raised his hands, palms outward, so that Remus could see that he was unarmed.
"What the hell are you doing, Remus?" he began. "It's me, it's Sirius... Remember?"
"Don't play fucking games with me!" Remus yelled. "Who are you and what are you doing in this house?"
Sirius stared at him, uncomprehending. "Remus? It's me."
"Liar." Remus spat out the word as if it were a curse, keeping his wand arm steadily trained on Sirius. "Sirius is dead. Everyone knows that."
"What? I'm what? Since when?"
Suddenly Remus lowered his wand. "I know who you are," he said tiredly. "Nice try, Tonks. Didn't know your talents extended so far. You really had me going for a bit there. You can change back now. I'm done playing."
Sirius simply gaped at him.
Remus sighed wearily, turning his back and pretending to busy himself with the kettle. "Quit it, Nymphadora. I'm too old for this shit."
"Don't call me that," said Sirius.
Remus' laugh was bitter and jagged. "Hate that, don't you?"
"It's not my bloody name, that's why!" Sirius persisted. "Was it a Memory Charm? One of those sodding Death Eaters threw an obliviate your way, is that what happened?"
Remus snorted. "Yeah. Memory Charm... Whatever you want. All I fucking have now is memories, and you want to sully those too. Great. Thanks." He swiveled around, piercing Sirius with his gaze. "And if you really aren't Tonks, then you've got to be a ghost. So why don't you just piss off and haunt someone else?"
"I give up, Remus." Sirius slumped into a chair, leaning forward until his forehead leaned against the tabletop. The wood was cool against his skin, and the slight prick of its rough texture reassured him that he was indeed wide-awake. His sleep-mussed hair fell forward, obscuring his face.
I'm not dreaming. I'm not...
I must be... and since when does Re swear so much?"Get your head off the table."
"Make me."
The tone was so much like the Sirius of his memories that Remus faltered. He stepped cautiously over and tapped Sirius on the shoulder.
"Come on, get up."
"Piss off," mumbled Sirius, swatting half-heartedly at Remus' hand. "You don't even believe in me, so leave me alone."
"Alright, that's it!" Remus growled. He reached down and, grabbing a thick hank of Sirius' hair, attempted to pull the other man upright.
Sirius twisted easily out of Remus' grasp, but as he did so, the chair toppled over, both men crashing heavily to the floor.
"Ow," laughed Sirius. "Good thing I was here to break your fall."
Remus said nothing. He stared at Sirius as though he'd never seen him before, realization slowly dawning in his eyes.
"Re?" asked Sirius. "Remus? Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?"
"Hurt? No," Remus breathed, lying sprawled across his friend. Friend? No, my love, my mate... Oh god, he's real, he's real! "You're... you're here? You're here! My god, Sirius, it's been so long..."
"Did you hit your head on something?" Sirius asked, laughing.
And, Remus thought, oh god it was the same laugh, the one that always sounded more like Padfoot's bark...
With a wordless cry, Remus flung himself down against Sirius' chest, burying his face in the other man's shirt. Strong arms enfolded him, holding him securely until his ragged sobs began to quiet.
"Shh," Sirius whispered soothingly, "it's alright. I don't know what's with you, but you're going straight back to bed. You can't... You're still recovering from a transformation, you know."
Remus allowed himself to be led back to bed and tucked in like a child. But as Sirius turned to leave, Remus clutched at his hand. "Stay with me. You're always... always leaving me. First Azkaban... then the veil... Just stay with me, please."
Sirius leaned down, placing the lightest of kisses upon Remus' lips. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, climbing into the bed fully clothed. "Not while you need me."
"Mmm," murmured Remus, nestling into Sirius' embrace. "Better than firewhisky."
"Um, yeah..." said Sirius. "When did you start drinking like a fish, anyway?"
Remus closed his eyes, stifling a yawn. "After the veil."
"Re, be serious."
"No, I can't be," Remus said, smiling at the old joke. "You're Sirius."
Sirius sighed. "Remus. I was Stunned. Stunned. I don't understand what's in there, but I swear to you I was only behind that veil for a few bloody minutes."
Remus shook his head. "No... Oh, god, you..."
"Shut up," Sirius said. "I'm telling you what happened, okay? Fuck, Re, it was only yesterday! The Stunning spell wore off – it was Bella's so how good could it have been anyway, right? I... it was really dark in there... and so cold, so unbelievably cold..." He didn't notice his unconscious shiver as his voice trailed off. "But I got out after a few minutes. And by then the battle was over... and... you'd all left me... And now you're acting all Confunded and I don't even know if we won or not!"
"Oh god," Remus whispered, horrified. "You don't know..."
"What?" said Sirius, panic tracing his voice as Remus stared incredulously at him. "What don't I know?"
"Two years, Sirius," Remus said, his voice hitching a little. "It wasn't yesterday that you fell through the veil... It's been over two years..."