After some revision of the prologue, now that I remember that Sirius was meant to lie low at Lupin's, this chapter is finally up. Read and enjoy – R
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all to do with Harry Potter, his friends, family and enemies. This story is for fun, not profit.
Where Do I Begin?
Chapter One
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Where do I begin;
To tell the story of how great a love can be?
The sweet love story that is older than the sea?
The simple truth about the love he brings to me?
Where do I start?
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He approached the dark street and stood before number eleven. He concentrated on the narrow handwriting on the scrap of parchment, when suddenly a house started to inflate between numbers thirteen and eleven. He crossed the abandoned gardens and kept an ear out for the loud thumping of rampaging gargoyles. Once on the porch, he lifted the silver serpent hanging from the black door and knocked. Metallic scratching and mumbles were heard on the other side of the peeling door and when it opened he found Molly Weasley grinning up at him. "Remus dear, come in. Come in. The others are in the kitchen. I'll scramble something up for you, dear. Oh, look at you. All skin and bones. That Umbridge woman is a down right menace if you ask me – but come in, love," she moved aside to let him hang up his cloak. Remus loved Molly Weasley with all of his heart. If he could but see his mother, he would surely introduce the two ladies and watch them talk about all the new fashionable robes and the worries of new age (muggle) medicine. He did miss his mother so. But exile was not sentenced upon her.
He walked down to the kitchen and was flooded by warmth and family which was quite in contrast to the gloomy basement itself. The younger Weasley children grinned at him with their mouth full, Hermione managed a small wave and even Professor McGonagall who was primly sitting on a stool sipping her tea, nodded discretely at his presence. He had heard that she had taken on the responsibilities of Headmistress whilst Dumbledore was preoccupied with the whereabouts of Lord Voldemort. Remus was always amazed at her ability to manage time around the most important things – as if she had control over time itself.
But Sirius nearly choked on his stew at the sight of him and rushed over to pull him into a hug. "Remus, old man! You're finally here!" he chuckled, grinning from ear to ear. Remus hugged him back and sighed at the familiar scent; lighter fluid and aftershave. "Look what the folks left me!"
Remus glanced around at the cupboards hanging off their hinges and scorch marks up the wall paper. "Yes the rotting furniture does give it charm," Remus smiled at the dangerously sinking kitchen roof and the looming cauldrons and pots above their heads. He would have to investigate that later.
"But come, sit. Molly made us Irish stew," he hopped over to the table and pulled out a two legged stool. Soon Remus had some nice warm stew and crusty bread placed in front of him and was contemplating whether to just skull it all there in one hit, or reservedly eat it like a gentle-wizard.
When he finished mopping up the remaining liquid with the bread he realized that the children had been sent upstairs to bed and the adults were settling into conversation about the reports in the Daily Prophet, when Dumbledore was going to show up and who was to take the next shift at Privet Drive. But his lack of concentration continued as he just sat there and smiled down the table at Sirius who quietly smiled back. It had been too long since they last saw each other. Over a year had past and with the both of them exiled from wizard society, they never had the opportunity to owl each other, let alone see each other, to reflect on the past two years and the lifetime before that.
But now as he sat and watched his friend, he noticed a few things. Sirius, one who always believed in appearances, had let his hair grow long and the three day growth on his face, though rather appealing, was unlike the younger man he once knew. Besides how could his smell of aftershave if he did not shave? But at least the haunted face he glimpsed at two years ago had receded. Remus had no doubt that his own appearance was nothing to brag about; the lack of food, sleepless nights and uncontrolled transformations had wracked his body for the past year. Now he was glad to be around people who trusted and loved him.
He yawned; "Excuse me. Molly is there somewhere I can sleep tonight?"
"Of course dear," the stout witch was up and flustering around him, removing his plate and bustling him upstairs. "We've cleared out a room for you to stay in while you're here."
The walls up the stairwell had bare rectangular marks, where sinister portraits of the Black family had once hung. He remembered the abuse they hissed at him as he was led to Sirius' room so many years ago and the screeches that followed Mrs Black's flight of rage. "It'll only be for tonight. I'll find myself a hotel in the morning," he shivered.
"Nonsense! You can stay here as long as you like," she opened a door at the far end of the corridor and exposed him to a familiar room. "I'm afraid there's no where to put your things-"
"Molly, it's perfect," he said. It was the same room he was thrown out of; Sirius' old room without the large double bed, the giant wooden desk or the enormous closet. Of course there was no doubt that his parents had removed anything in the house that represented their oldest son. Probably blew them to smithereens. The bare room consisted of a metal frame single bed, a rickety wooden chair and the scorch marks along the walls was proof enough of their contempt for half-breeds. Somehow he felt safe enough to sleep here. He turned to thank Mrs Weasley to find her sadly staring at the moldy floorboards. A picture of a mother's anguish at the thought that her son may be taken from her forever; he prayed his own mother was not in so much pain. Remus reached down and held her hand. "I heard about Percy. He's a smart lad. I'm sure he'll come to his senses." Molly smiled weakly and nodded as she padded her way out. He knew that Molly treasured her children above anything in this world, but he could not empathize with the straying of a child. If anything were to happen to Harry, he would not know what to do. And now with the rumor that Dementors were joining the Dark Lord, the idea that Harry could be vulnerable sent a pulsing rage through his veins. The werewolf would not let anything happen to its pack. "No sense worrying about it now," he sighed. He needed a good night's sleep to keep his senses alert during his watch tomorrow.
He was trying to put on muggle clothing before his watch shift. However, once the large shirt and pants were on and around the correct way, they began to shrink. Remus could see his bicep firming under the tiny sleeve, his collar began to constrict and he knew he had to pull them off if he did not want to be strangled to death. He reached for his wand and there was a knock at the door. "Old man?"
Remus shook himself awake and heard the light knocking "Come in," he yawned pulling himself up onto his pillow.
Sirius stood in the doorway and smiled at him. The room seemed far wider than before, as if time held the two apart physically and emotionally. Remus suddenly felt a need to have the dark man hold him as Grimmauld Place wrung his heart and stirred fear and hope. "It's been a while," Sirius whispered.
"It has," he chuckled. Instead maybe he should hold him. Who knew what torture he went through in Azkaban? And to be confined to the one place he was trying to run from and was obviously forbidden to stay by the redecorating, compliments of Mrs Black. "Where are you sleeping?"
"Not an hour in my own house and already you want to bugger me?" Sirius laughed at the colour rising to his friend's cheeks. He was only curious for curiosity's sake as he had taken his friend's old room. The thought of resuming their past relationship was not even an issue at the moment. "I've got a cosy little nest in my darling mother's room if you're interested?" he raised an eyebrow in invitation.
Remus frowned sternly at him. How could he joke about a thing like that? Then again he was talking to Sirius, the prat who could get away with anything. "Don't let the door hit you in the arse on the way out," he growled, rolling over and going back to sleep. It seemed that no amount of isolation had really changed Sirius Black at all; at least not his hormones. Remus smiled as he fell into slumber. Maybe he would take him up on the offer some other time, once they had become friends again.
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