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 Five

(O)

How long does it last?

Can love be measured by the hours in a day?

I have no answers now but this much I can say;

I know I'll need him 'til the stars all burn away;

And he'll be there.

(O)

Spring had finally come to Grimmauld Place, though one could not get a hint of its presence from inside the gloomy walls. It was not the fact the interior was disheveled, but rather the ambiance created by its moody owner.

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU FILTHY LITTLE INGRATE!"

Remus held his breath, expecting Mrs Black to start shrieking over the noise. Yet, it seemed that her portrait approved of his condescending attitude towards the house-elf. Something crashed upstairs and a loud squawk concerned him, but once the cussing started up again Remus sighed and continued to scratch on the parchment.

This was no ordinary parchment; this was his birthday present for a very moody so-and-so and it had taken him a whole week just to get this far. It was not that Dumbledore's sudden disappearance had disrupted his spare time, but rather that he never was any good at poetry. He had read all types of poems, from sonnets to muggle limericks, and yet every time he thought he was on the right track, he reread it and vanished the ink. His self-criticism was getting him no where.

He wanted it to portray how much he loved Sirius and how he wanted things to back to the way they were. That no matter what the new challenges, be they Death Eaters, Dementors or the occasional angry mob, he would not abandon him like last time. He would stand by Sirius and love him all the more.

Most people would think this was a waste of time and that he should just go out and say it. Or as the refined Nymphadora had put it earlier that week; "Just shag him already!" But they did not understand the intricacies there were surrounding the two men. There was the issue that Sirius might not be of sound mind and the rampaging upstairs was definitely proof of that. There was also the problem of trust and, thanks to Remus denial of friendship once Sirius was captured, their trust could not be built in such sparse time. Then there was the fact that the escaped convict might just be horny, which was a huge possibility considering the only action is Azkaban was kissing. That affection is presumed unpleasant.

All of this mattered to Remus in the long run and mostly on the lupine level. Werewolves mate for life and the betrayal he felt when Sirius was convicted had made the wolf melancholy and lonesome. So although Remus forgave Sirius and loved him now more than ever, the wolf would not heal so quickly and continued to resent their relationship.

But they would only need to be concerned with the wolf one week a month. Prior to changing, Remus would just have to sleep somewhere else and after the full moon, Sirius would have to remain in dog-state for the wolf to become comfortable around the other canine.

But it would be worth it, if he could only think of a word to rhyme with 'defenseless'.

"Sirius?"

He jumped and madly looked around, trying to cover his work. It was then he spied the be-speckled head floating in the fire place. "Harry!" Was he having trouble with the Floo powder? "What are you –" Suddenly, he remembered Harry was at school and not burning on the Black's hearth. "What's happened, if everything all right?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "I just wondered – I mean, I just fancied a – a chat with Sirius."

"I'll call him," Remus said, getting to his feet. Was there not a ban using the Floo Network at Hogwarts? Sirius said he had trouble with it last time. "He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, he seems to be hiding in the attic again…"

Remus rushed out of the kitchen wondering why he bothered to tell Harry about the whole Kreacher thing. There was no point worrying the boy over the fact that the only person who knows all about the Order's plans is now currently missing. Now Harry would probably go do something adolescently foolish to satisfy his curiosity. "Just like his father."

As he reached the second landing, Sirius suddenly barged past him. "We'll have to tell Dumbledore about this!"

Remus grabbed his elbow; "Harry's in the kitchen fireplace." Sirius' train of thought came to a screeching halt and looked incredibly confused. There was no time to explain, action was needed. "Get to the kitchen! Harry wants to talk with you."

Sirius sailed down the banister as Lupin apparated to the kitchen. Harry was still there, with a pained expression across his face. Something was definitely wrong and Remus realized his lungs were hurting.

"What is it?" Sirius said urgently as he swept his hair from his eyes and dropped to the ground. Remus knelt beside him; "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

"No," replied Harry. The pain in Remus' lungs vanished. He had not been breathing for the last few minutes. "It's nothing like that… I just wanted to talk… about my dad."

He felt Sirius slump beside him, his shoulder leaning against his own. Perhaps this absent breathing is common when parents are concerned for their young. Sirius turned to look at him with a cheeky smile and Remus knew now was the time for reminiscing.

"See, I was… well… I looked in Snape's-" Harry began.

"Professor Snape's," Remus reminded him despite the snort of debate.

"Professor Snape's pensieve and found a memory of when he was my age. You lot had just finished an exam for OWLS when Dad just decided to send Sn- Professor Snape into the air upside down. Everyone was taunting him and making his life miserable."

Well that definitely brought back a lot of memories. He somehow knew that the academic years with the Slytherin were partially why Severus despised the Marauders. The fact that he had to store the memories somewhere else, proved how much he was pained by those years. "I wouldn't like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen-"

"I'm fifteen!" said Harry heatedly.

"Look Harry," Sirius went on to explain the history of James and Severus and for that one moment he was showing his age. Maturity softened his voice as he told Harry he was not proud of his younger days. But poor Harry just seemed confused. Everyone had been putting the best images of his father in his head. Brave James. Loyal James. Loving James. And today the boy found out that it was not all true. His father was a normal human with normal feelings. This conversation was draining Sirius, as he kept looking at Remus for support and letting him add bits where they needed to go. Sirius had preferred to remember his best friend by all the noble things he had done. Those small memories could have been the only thing that helped him survive Azkaban. To dredge up the past like this, Harry was unknowingly opening unhealed wounds about all the things that Order could have done, if they had the chance.

"Look," Sirius said, "your father was the best friend I ever had and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it."

"Yeah, OK," said Harry heavily. "I just never thought I'd feel sorry for Snape."

One point tinkled the recesses of Remus brain. "No you mention it," he said, "how did Snape react when he found you'd seen all this?"

"He told me he'd never teach my Occulency again," said Harry indifferently, "like that's a big disappoint-"

"He WHAT?" shouted Sirius, causing Harry to inhale a mouthful of ashes.

"Are you serious, Harry?" Remus asked quickly. "He's stopped giving you lessons?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "But it's OK, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the-"

"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" said Sirius forcefully, and Remus quickly grabbed his coat and wrenched him back down again.

"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!" he said firmly. He only knew that his way was probably less mortal than whatever Sirius was planning to do. "But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons – when Dumbledore hears –"

"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me!" said Harry, outraged. "You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve."

If only he would understand. "Harry, there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency!" said Lupin sternly. "Do you understand me? Nothing!"

"OK, OK, "said Harry, and he seemed a little bit annoyed. "I'll… I'll try and say something to him… bit it won't be –"

He fell silent.

"Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?" Remus looked behind him but couldn't see anyone.

"No," said Sirius. "It must be someone on your end."

"I'd better go!" he said hastily and then Harry had gone.

"I hope he wasn't caught," Remus thought aloud. "That woman can be such a b–"

"Mooney!" Sirius exclaimed holding out a hand to help him up.

"-Bigot?" Ruems shrugged innocently. "I'll go and have a word with Severus. You should let Dumbledore know that you can't find Kreacher. Wherever he is, he's bound to be causing trouble."

(O)

Remus apparated to the mirror in the drawing room. He pulled back the dustsheet and stepped forward. Instead of his image reflecting in the surface, two green reptilian eyes floated in the dust haze. "Yesss?"

"Severus Snape," he stated clearly. "Message deemed urgent."

The green eyes turned to slits then disappeared. It took a moment but soon enough Severus was rushing into view. "Yes?"

Despite all they had been through, the mere presence of Severus still sent chills up Remus back. The potion master was not one for simple chit-chat. "Serverus, I've heard you're no longer teaching Harry Occlumency."

"That is correct," he said flatly.

"You do realize you could be jeopardizing the Order by doing this."

The potion master folded his arms and glared down his long nose. "Your point?"

Remus took a deep breath. It was time to put his foot down, and he was not used to giving commands. "Severus, put away your childhood traumas and teach Harry Occlumency." Severus did not stir. "Please?"

The dark man stiffened. "I'll have you know I put myself on the line teaching that insolent child. If he can read the Dark Lord's thoughts, then there is obviously the possibility that the Dark Lord can read his." Remus rolled his eyes at the condescending tone. "If I'm probing Harry's mind to teach him mind blocking techniques, there is a risk that the Dark Lord can detect that I am the Occlumens teacher and therefore a traitor. Thus my life is on the line. If that – that Potter - can think of nothing better to do than riffle through my personal possessions wasting my valuable time; then Albus can teach him," Severus straightened his shoulders and glared at him.

"So, I should take this up with Albus then?" Remus asked.

A flash of anger lit Severus' face but was quickly replaced with his cool exterior. "You are not one to be giving me orders, Lupin. Not when so few are on your side," with a swirl of his robes, he left the frame. The dungeons grew foggy and the green reptilian eyes floated back into view. "Yesss?"

Remus sighed and let the dust cover fall back into place. He always wondered what Albus could possibly be blackmailing Severus with to keep him on the Order's side. Perhaps some risqué photos, or a dark secret, or perhaps forcing an endless supply of muggle sweets down his throat. Remus chuckled to himself as he wandered back towards the kitchen.

(O)

"Well I think Severus is going to teach him again. But who knows-" He stopped dead on the stairs. There was Sirius with a particular piece of parchment in his hands, laughing hysterically. "What's so funny?"

Sirius looked up and coughed, trying to hide his smile, tears rolling down his poker face. "You wrote this?"

"Yes."

Sirius nodded and scratched his chin. "It's great. Really!" Then he just burst out barking. Infuriated Remus snatched the parchment away and reread it. He put his heart and soul into this. He even lifted a few passages from a muggle called William. How could Sirius find this so frivolous?

"Heathen." He read it in his head. Sure, Sirius was not exactly like a summer's day – but the rest of it was true. Perhaps Sirius just did not appreciate poetry. He does not seem the type to listen to the augurey choral festival. Perhaps Remus should have just taken Nymphadora's advice.

And for the third time that afternoon, Remus did something he did not usually do; he initiated flirtation.

"Trust you not to notice innuendo when it's dealt to you in spades," He took off his glasses and slowly rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting his hair fall into his eyes. He could see the glazed look plastered all over Sirius' face. It seemed he would have to be blunt. "We're alone for the first time in ages, in a kitchen no less," Sirius nodded slowly, like a dumbstruck student. "-and you're laughing at me instead of buggering me senseless!" There he said it, but wait! "Hey! That rhym-"

A chair clattered across the floor and before he could fathom who threw it, he felt coarse, harsh lips tugging on his own; large hands tangling in his hair. Oh, how he missed those talented lips. The flat hot tongue brushed against the crease of his lips and with a small gasp, it snaked its way into his mouth, curling with his own. He wrapped his arms around Sirius waist and pulled him tighter, pressing their chests together to breath in sync. To feel each other's heart beats. Slow and steady. Rising and falling. He had missed these moments. Fifteen long years was too long for him, for the wolf.

A low growl passed between them and the large hands swept down his arms to his arse, pulling them closer still. Remus' breath hitched as he felt a hard erection grinding against his own, his eyes flew open. Lightning raced through his entire body; every nerve tingling with electricity.

He could hear Sirius breathing in his scent, his hot breath below his ear. Remus let his head loll back as a tongue slithered down his neck and flicked across his exposed collarbone. It was the same moves from eons ago and different; experienced in some way. More carnal and desperate; which did not matter to the wolf. It just wanted its mate back, whole and completely.

But he was not his young self and the hot tongue now lapping at his clavicle was making him harder. He was not going to be able to keep control of the wolf for much longer. The other man hoisted Remus' thigh around a sharp hip and he responded growling and ground harder against stiff fabric, craving, needing… "…more."

The other thigh was wrapped around a thin hip, ankles locking together and a steady slowly rocking rhythm was keeping each man at bay. Sirius lowered him onto the table and a laugh escaped one of them; much like old times.

The wooden table bit into his shoulder blades, but Sirius was warm, so warm. Remus tried to focus on the wild blue eyes hovering above him, but his erection was straining against the troublesome fabric. He needed release; now.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Sirius lost his dark robes and leaned over him. One knee slowly nudged his legs apart, as he climbed onto the table. Sharp stubble grazed his neck and jaw as those talented lips sucked on his ear lobe. His hips bucked and a whimper escaped as a large hand set him down.

"You sure he wants this?" the words flew through his mind as a wet tongue traced around the shell of his ear.

"Yes… Padfoot…" he groaned as his hips were forced down again by a large hand. Finally impatience got the better of him and he grabbed Sirius by the shirt collar and ripped the old cotton, buttons pinging on the floor. He wrapped his arms around the broad chest and pressed it down against his own. Kissing and writhing beneath the powerful God that had left him weak. Grinding his hips in a slow circular motion against the erection. Protesting against his own prickly robes as they scratched his nipples. He wanted Sirius warmth, his skin, his soul. He wanted his mate back. "Off!" he snarled and pushed Sirius away.

Sirius, who to this point was drunk with arousal, snapped out of his reverie. "Do you want to stop? I know that it has been a while – unless you've – well – I wouldn't be surprised because you are one very sexy beast - "

In a second, Remus' robes had landed on the stove and the frustrated werewolf rounded on his prey. There was no holding him back. He could smell his mate's need and release was all that mattered now; "You're mine."

Slowly he sucked the weathered skin above him. Sirius hissed and hung his head when Remus found a brown nipple. He rolled it between his teeth, licking it to a rigid nub as low growls rippled through Sirius' ribcage. He licked his way across the flat chest to the other nipple and repeated his ministrations whilst his hands found the cotton binding of Sirius' pants. He arched forward to rake his nails across those boney buttocks and slip the trousers off.

"Gods!" Sirius yelped and precome dripped onto Remus' belly. The wild blue eyes were back staring into his with rage. "Oh you're gonna pay, Mooney."

Remus lay languid, resting on his forearms. He felt unabashed and found it amusing watching Sirus try to restrain himself. This sense of power was a turn on. He lifted his hips and grazed his trousers again the quivering erection. "…mmm…make good with that threat Black."

Sirius sank back on his knees and waved a rather familiar stick infront of Remus' smug expression. "Well what do we have here?" he grinned. He swished the wand and with a tug and the sound of ripped cloth, Remus' pants landed on the kitchen stairs. "You're gonna pay," he growled as those wild eyes darted all over Remus naked body, as if deciding where to go first.

"You owe me a pair of pants," Remus pouted. He recognized his wand in his lover's hand. "And we're not using my wand for any kinky fetishes you may have developed."

"Fine. Maybe next time," Sirius shrugged and set down the wand. "But you can have my ripped jeans if you like?" Remus was about to protest but lost his word Sirius leaned over and began to kiss his left knee. "You should show off these legs."

"I…" All wit was gone as that marvelous hot tongue began to trail its way up his inner thigh. This was new but very pleasant and Remus gripped the edges of the table to restrain himself. "…y-yes…"

Sirius stopped and replaced his tongue with what felt like his prickly cheek. "Remus?" His hot breath sweeping past Remus' very flushed erection, curling around its golden hair. All the wolf could manage was a whimper. He wanted those lips, that tongue, surrounding, suckling, biting. His hips jerked and he whimpered again; "Please…"

"I forgive you, Remus," the stubble grazed against his skin and he bucked at its pain. His leg was impossibly cold and he looked down his body at the dark man. "I trust you." The dark head dipped and warm lips found the graze. He could feel the slow kisses to the crease of his thigh and spasmed when that hot tongue was back. It plunged into the crease and slowly dragged itself along his hip bone.

"Oh," Remus murmured, his hips jerking in a quick hard thrust. The trail became cold. Sirius had stopped again. "… don't stop…. Padfoot please…"

He felt the wet tongue slither across from the crease, hooking under the curve of his testicles. A white flash spread across his vision and the whole world stopped. His heart was aching and his head was thrumming. His whole body clenched and lifted off the table, large palms sliding up down his arse to lift him higher. And that hot, wet, tongue slithering lapping over and over-

"Holy shit!" Remus' eyes snapped down to the dark man between his legs, who had turned his head to the stairs. There was Hestia with one hand over her eyes, the other waving around trying to find the railing again. "Sorry… sorry…" she mumbled.

All previous sexual tension suddenly disappeared. His sense to fight or flee was pounding in his skull. He quickly pulled himself away from Sirius and rolled off the table, hunting around for his clothes.

To Remus' horror, Sirius started to chuckle as Hestia managed to stumble blindly up the stairs. Once she was gone, he sat calmly on the kitchen table and grinned at the blustered wizard. "That was great, Mooney! What a birthday!"

Remus quickly dressed and then plonked himself on the floor. He would never be able to look the Order members in the eye for as long as he lived; which hopefully wasn't that long. He could see the mirth in Dumbledore's eyes, the winks from Nymphadora and the no doubt vivid discussion about safe sex from Alastor.

One thing was for sure; he was never writing a poem again.

(O)