12 Grimmauld Place was quiet as a tomb. I never noticed how much life they brought to the house, Remus thought as he walked in the door, and put his cloak quietly in the closet. Not wanting to call out to see who was at the house in fear of causing the portrait in the hallway of Sirius' Mother to become irate and start her diatribe of insults, as she was prone to do when disturbed, he went into the kitchen to find it empty. Curious, I would think that at least Molly would be in there I didn't think they were planning on going back to the Burrow until tomorrow, he thought and walked back out and took in a deep breath trying to smell who might be in the house; for some reason he couldn't smell anything except for the strong smell of antiseptic and suddenly he became tense as he wondered if Sirius had gotten it into his mind to go out knowing he isn't allowed. This could be bad, Remus thought as he started to ascend up the stairs to Sirius and Buckbeak's room to see if perhaps they were just locked up again. He knocked on the door quickly three times then waited for a response on the other side of the door.
Buckbeak scraped his talons on the bare floorboards, and shifted his wings so that from within the sound of an upset chest of drawers responded to Remus' terse knock.
"What are you doing?" Sirius' barked in a mordant undertone, framed in the threshold to the parlor across from the room where the hippogriff was making a racket that could threaten this rare and therefore precious moment of quietude in the decrepit, dusty relic of a mansion. His gaunt features were arranged into an expression of moderate disapproval, his arms crossed in front of him as he leaned against the gothic moulding around the door. "Why don't you knock on it again and we can have my mother give us a private screeching performance."
Remus turned around quickly and his surprised eyes met a look of disapproval from Sirius as he stood looking at him. For a moment Remus almost went for the bait, but instead he let the remark slide off him while he gave the other man a small smile and said, "Ah, there you are. I thought you disappeared with everyone else," he walked toward his old friend across the hall, Remus continued as a warm smile came to his lips, "Where is everyone, anyway? The quiet took me by surprise." Remus took in the features of his old friend, the difference of his face, which had lost all the softness of youth while in Azkaban. He noticed the way it had turned into harsher angles that didn't at all take away from his looks, but in ways enhanced them. The same dark hair strewn with curls that Sirius had always had was still very much as dark as night, only now it was worn longer and a bit unkempt; a sign that Remus knew well as Sirius being unhappy. What made Remus' heart hurt though was how pitifully thin Sirius was, his clothes just hung on him, and Remus felt the need to try and change that. "Want to join me for a spot of tea?"
"Actually I was about to go up to the roof," Sirius replied brusquely, with a glint in his fathomless grey eyes that upon close inspection could be interpreted as carefully suppressed disdain. But Sirius was too aloof for anyone to maintain continuous eye contact with him for too long, because there was something sharply bitter there as well that made even the staunchest of personalities avert their gaze and focus on something like the warp in the floorboards or the ornate filigree on an ancient, tarnished picture frame. There was a deep freeze in those eyes, as if the dementors had already had their long lusted-after kiss.
He nonchalantly brushed past Remus, but was careful not to touch him, and strode down the hallway, at the end of which a set of narrow stairs ascended to a once forgotten passage that opened up to the roof. Sirius paused, his hand on the carved banister, and looked back down the hallway at his friend who still stood by the parlor, looking slightly puzzled and maybe a little put off. He simply watched Remus for half a moment, taking in the healthy, rugged, universally attractive features of his last living best friend bathed in watery white sunlight coming in from the soot encrusted window next to the staircase. The years have been kind to you, Remus, he thought, if only we could've shared them, but I suppose it's no use to pine over what I never had – or never will. Regretful of the arctic chill he had spoken with, Sirius finally said after a shallow sigh, "You could bring some tea up there. If you wanted, that is."
Remus stood there for a moment in quiet shock, though he had seen Sirius many times use this method on others it had rarely been applied to him. Except when…, Remus' mind started to move back in time, but he wouldn't allow it. This wasn't the time to think about that as he'd spent too much time thinking about it for the last twelve years, that was then and they were faced with the right now, things were different. He was about to walk away when he heard something that made him pause, a sigh so soft others wouldn't notice it, but he had. Remus knew what that sigh meant even after all these years, and when he heard Sirius tell him that he could join him with tea Remus couldn't help but think that no matter how long they had been apart some things were still the same. Looking up, Remus made sure not to smile too broadly at the fact that Sirius had relented; a show of any sign of victory would cause the invitation to be revoked instantly. "I'll prepare it and bring it up then." He said keeping his voice even and heading into the kitchen.
After a bit, Remus showed up in the courtyard on the roof with a tray. On it was a tea kettle, two cups with saucers and various biscuits and small sandwiches that he took the time to prepare wanting Sirius to eat something so that he wasn't so gaunt. He sat the tray down on the table that was between two chairs, one of which was occupied by Sirius already, without a word and prepared the tea for each of them. Once he handed Sirius his tea cup and saucer making sure to put a sandwich on it, he turned and sat down in the opposite chair and picked up his own cup drinking quietly for a moment. There was a silence while both men looked out over the horizon as the sun started to set, and finally Remus said without taking his eyes off the view, "You never told me where everyone went."
Sirius ignored his tea in favor of tearing a desiccated autumn leaf to bits while staring across the London rooftops around them, shrouded in the blossoming violet dusk. Remus' sudden question jarred him out of the blank reverie he'd slipped into. "You didn't ask. They've all gone home, or back to school, or to other, more important places and people," he said bluntly as he watched the flakes of the dead leaf resting in the palm of his hand light on a gentle wind whistling around the rooftop, and swirl off on the gust. It smelled like winter already, but he did not shiver.
A discordant metallic grate split the stillness as Sirius turned his chair to face the rickety, weather-beaten round table and took his first sip of tea. Remus held his cup and saucer in his lap, facing outward toward the western horizon, giving Sirius the perfect angle to admire his friend's profile from. I wish he would look at me, Sirius said inwardly, why don't you look at me, Remus? He didn't dare voice the query. It would make things even more strained than they already were… hell, if that was even possible.
Sniffing the sandwich deposited on his saucer, Sirius decided it might be a good idea to have something to eat today, though he failed see the logic in nourishing himself when he didn't particularly see any reason to try keeping himself alive; the house of his youth and early adolescence was killing him slowly and steadily anyhow. He figured, with morbid conviction, that in a few months' time he'd go into the old library for a nap some afternoon and not wake up, or Kreacher would lace one of his cigarettes with some kind of horrid poison one of these days. It was only a matter of waiting, now, until he skidded into the inexorable suck of death.
"So why are you still here?" Sirius asked after taking a long look at the line of Remus' jaw. "Can't imagine it's the ambience." He plucked up the cold sandwich and made quick work of it in three bites, so that it was gone before Remus had the opportunity to reply.
For a moment, Remus tensed when Sirius told him that everyone had left, he wasn't sure why but he was very much afraid at the prospect of having it just be the two of them. How ridiculous, he thought to himself for a moment as he pushed the tendrils of fear that were trying to crawl along his brain away, this is your best mate, there should be no need to fear being alone with him this is Sirius. Yet, he was and while he took in the information that everyone had left the house, he kept his eyes out on the horizon so they wouldn't betray his fear.
Out of his peripheral vision he saw that Sirius picked up the sandwich and had started to eat; it caused Remus to feel a moment of relief until he heard Sirius speak, and the fear that had been threatening to overtake him grabbed him fully in hand and shook him like a rag doll. Taking a moment to collect himself, he thought carefully before he finally answered, "Where else would I be? Sure, this isn't the most welcoming of places, but it has friends here…it has you," when he spoke the last he turned finally and looked Sirius in the eye willing him to talk about anything, except what they had been so careful to avoid as that subject could stay buried for a while longer. Though, Remus knew the only way to stop the uncomfortable feeling that Sirius and him had been shooting off to each other since the newness of having him back had worn off, was to talk about that long ago time. Please don't make this more difficult, his thoughts pleaded as he looked into his best mate's eyes, looking for something other than the accusatory look he felt he had been receiving from things unsaid.
Sirius snorted derisively, "Of course. Where else would I be? Certainly not frolicking about in the tropics, let alone for a stroll in the park." He took another drink of tea then pushed it away, propping his arms up on the tabletop and maintaining eye contact with Remus. Somewhat taken aback that Remus' gaze did not falter, he felt the self-imposed barrier of isolation around his heart give way a little, and actually flashed a smile that managed to reach his eyes and diffuse the wintry frost in them. For a moment, things felt right again.
From his back trouser pocket, Sirius produced a dented tin cigarette case. Placing one in between his lips, he pointed a finger at the end and sucked in a deep first pull. "You can have one if you want," he said neutrally, pushing the opened case across the table, eyeing Remus almost as if to dare him to accept the offering.
A few moments' tense silence ensued, occupied only by the urban noises surrounding and the quiet tapping of ashes onto the slate shingles. "How long do you expect to stay?" Sirius asked all of a sudden, for lack of anything else to say in order to cultivate amiable conversation. He wanted more than anything to kill the seemingly impregnable trepidation that stunted their friendship, and left it in a state of awkward stasis. He knew exactly why things were the way they were, and wished to speak on it, but he perceived the distinct feeling that Remus would rather have it remain interred in their separate memories.
The cigarette case lay open between them for a second, and Remus looked at it for a moment realizing it was the same one from their days at Hogwarts. Grinning he took a fag from it, thinking that it's been at least twelve years since his last cigarette, only Sirius could get me to smoke and feel comfortable, he thought as he pulled out the end of his wand and used it to light the cigarette in his mouth. Inhaling the smoke for a moment before letting it out he leaned back in his chair and thought about the past for a moment, the late night walks, the sneaking out of the Gryffindor Common Room, the laughter of his three friends; one that was taken from them forever, one that betrayed them, and the other that sat next to him a shadow of what he was, it was a sobering thought that took some of the pleasure of the smoke away from him. Almost as if on cue, Sirius spoke, and Remus turned again to look at him giving him a small shrug. "I thought I would stay as long as I am welcome. It's not as if I am currently working, and at the moment Albus doesn't have anything for me to do with the Order," he said and realized that it was rude to just invite himself to stay and he flushed for a moment, "That is of course, if that is fine with you."
"That's all fine and dandy," Sirius said with the sort of good-natured sarcasm that was his signature, "and I'll apologize in advance for being a poor host." He raised the cigarette perched between his fingers to his mouth again and took a long drag. Weird silence followed the comment; Sirius silently chastised himself for being such a royal git, and for only exacerbating the uncomfortable situation he found himself in when it came to Remus. For the time being, he settled to just watch Remus as he smoked, following the manner in which his lips closed around the filter, how his cheeks went concave when he inhaled, and savored the glimpse of his tongue when he exhaled a bluish plume of smoke. It was mesmerizing. Sirius' own cigarette burned down to a stack of ashes, right down to the filter. "Ouch," he muttered once he registered the tiny but fierce burn on his fingers, and tossed the filter over the side of the roof. Wincing, he shook his hand to rid himself of the sting the burn left.
A soft snort emanated from Remus as he watched Sirius shake out his hand and he asked with high amusement, "You all right there, Mate? I thought you were supposed to pitch it before it gets to the filter, or perhaps this is the new vogue since it's been awhile since I last had one of these." His grin was lopsided as he knew the joke was weak, but it was better than slipping back into that heavy silence that seemed attracted to the two of them. So not to slip back into it he quickly added, "Since it's just the two of us, what do you think we should get ourselves up into?" Remus paused as soon as the words came out. It had sounded innocent in his mind, but now that it was said it had a very nefarious double meaning attached that he did not intend at all, and he wanted nothing more than to take it back as he felt his face start to warm with what could only be an obvious flush at the way it could be taken.
"Sharp wit you've got," Sirius said before taking the burned fingers into his mouth to soothe away the momentary pain. Remus went on speaking, and the moment he finished Sirius' eyes darted over to his friend's face, who was plainly blushing out of embarrassment. Sirius took his fingers out of his mouth with a wet smack and kept his gaze steady on Remus, and brought his teacup to his lips for another drink. With his eyebrows raised, he said with a strange, pointed look, "I don't know, mate, I'm up for whatever you are."
Sirius' mind was now filled with all sorts of torrid ideas, the same sort he entertained in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep and he was wide awake, hard, and sweating underneath his blankets. His cold, hollow eyes blackened as his brain continued to spin these imagined but vivid scenes of Remus and himself writhing together in the dark, sighing and whispering litanies of pleasure. Instantly he became aware of Remus' scent and the distinct spike of discomfort he exuded – and that gave Sirius a sense of power over the other man. "So. What do you suggest?" Sirius questioned in a lowered voice.
Remus sat frozen for a moment as Sirius' voice came at him in low tones. To cover his disconcertion he took rather clumsy drink of his tea spilling some on his lap, and then finished his cigarette still unsure how to answer. He finally said slowly, "We could have dinner I suppose; or perhaps we can entertain ourselves with a game of wizard's chess?" Disappointed because he knew that it sounded hollow and weak, but unsure what he could do to change the situation so that it was more palatable he let the question hang there to be answered.
Inwardly he was cursing at what this could bring up, his own mind started to reel as he saw images of the two of them from long ago come into his mind. I'm not sure I'm ready for this; he thought and made to grab another cigarette while he avoided Sirius' eyes. He then chastised himself and wondered when he ever would be. Reluctantly, Remus looked over at Sirius and saw as the other man was intently staring at him, and he knew that Sirius had derived pleasure from watching him squirm, the thought made a small burst of anger shoot through him, causing him to snap back, "Or you could think of something yourself as I was unaware I was the social director." He hoped that he looked defiant while he lit the cigarette with his wand again, but was sure that instead he just looked nervous.
Smirking softly to himself that he successfully disrupted Remus' typically calm and collected composure, Sirius summoned his cigarettes back and lit another as well. "Sorry if I struck a nerve, Moon'," he jauntily chuckled, leaning back and stretching his arms behind himself. "I just don't want you to be bored."
And just like that he switched from purposefully needling Remus with the threat of the monster closeted between them back to his normal self, all acidic sarcasm and emotionless pacifism.
Twilight was growing darker by the minute, and so too did the air become riddled with an early autumn chill. Sirius pushed up from his chair and slowly meandered over past Remus, looking over the roof's edge at the somber, neatly-trimmed flowerbeds and lawns in front of the sleepy houses lining the street. Behind him, Sirius could feel Remus seething with something bordering on contempt, throbbing to be voiced but valiantly kept penned in. Sirius whirled around, one arm crossed over his abdomen and the other lax at his side with his cigarette in his hand. He glanced at Remus with a smile that was intended to be conciliatory, and then redirected his eyes skyward to piece together the first visible constellations dotting the night sky. He chanced another quick look at Remus, and secretly hoped that he too would stand up and look at the stars with him.
Remus' eyes darkly watched Sirius as he walked over to the roof's edge and looked up at the sky. He thought of just standing up and walking away for a moment so that he wouldn't have to look at Sirius' accusatory eyes that demanded silently for answers Remus never had for him. He had never known what to say about the incident that James had rationalized as, 'boys being boys', and yet James' explanation never quite held true for Remus, it never exactly felt that way to him. He just wasn't sure what it was though, and back then it had seemed right to just not have to analyze it or think about it. So, he just let himself go on with his life as if that one moment in time where it was different between them had never happened and didn't change them; and yet…it had, they were different now, it was unspoken, but it was there then tension between them so thick it was almost tangible.
Instead of leaving, he remained in the rusted patio chair smoking his cigarette quietly and looking at almost anything but Sirius. It shouldn't be like this; he thought and felt an overwhelming sorrow causing him to drag his eyes over at Sirius who was looking at him for once with no malice, his grey eyes clear and giving a hint of goodwill before they looked skywards. The sky had darkened considerably and the stars were bright considering they we were in a large city. Deciding that there was no reason to hold a grudge, Remus stood and moved toward where Sirius was standing. "It's amazing that the sky has always been clear here. Do you remember the only time you brought me home with you during the winter hols? I was amazed at the fact that almost anywhere else in London you had troubles seeing the stars, except at 12 Grimmauld Place. I thought that perhaps it was spelled somehow for the sky to be darker…clearer than the rest of the city," he said to Sirius as both gazed out at the heavens and then added, "It was one of the only fond memories I had of this place, that holiday was dreadful."
"Yes, I do remember that," Sirius replied, dropping his unfinished cigarette to the ground to be stamped out with the toe of his shoe. With Remus edging closer he felt both excitement and apprehension dawn on him, and so he shoved both his hands into his pockets to hide the way they quivered. "That was my last Christmas here," Sirius continued, "or so I thought."
It was true that the old Black house was an epicenter of very old and powerful magic, which as Remus had guessed was the explanation to why light pollution did not exist when peering at the heavens from this particular rooftop.
Leaning back against the iron railing lining the perimeter of the walkway that wrapped around the roof, Sirius fell into contemplative silence, no longer connecting the points of light smiling down from the sky, but staring blankly at the damp ground, scattered with fall leaves. Just being up here with his friend, the only person left in the world whom he trusted and felt deeply bonded to, made him regret the way he'd been acting since the both of them were living there. Here Remus was, the person who knew Sirius best and who understood his moods and ways, and he had shut him out, along with everybody else. It wasn't right, and his heart ached with the realization.
"I'm sorry, Remus," Sirius sighed, eyes forward, his hands out of his pockets and running through his disheveled curls, tugging at the roots.
Remus looked up at the stars lost in his own thoughts until Sirius' voice brought his attention back down to Earth taking Remus by surprise; Sirius rarely apologized for anything. Looking over at his friend, he held a hand out almost as if gesturing a truce. "No, worries, Sirius. I'm sure that this has been difficult for you, having to adjust after…," his voice faltered as he realized he was about to say 'Azkaban,' which though they had spoken of in passing was not a subject that either of them liked to bring up, "everything that's happened." He said finally then added, "Plus, it's not as if you've really had time to figure out what you are going to do, between having people constantly here, you worrying about Harry, and the frustration of not being able to find Wormtail; it's bound to cause frustration. I understand." Remus looked at his friend's gaunt features and smiled warmly placing a hand on Sirius' shoulder just happy to be there with him for the moment after they spent so long apart. "I've missed you Pads." There was a moment of silence and Remus gently squeezed Sirius' shoulder to bring home what he had said.
For each of Remus' fingers tightening on his shoulder, a bolt of warmth shot through Sirius, and they all settled somewhere in the region of his bellybutton. "I missed you, too," he whispered as he nodded, voice thickened by emotion and regret. As if it was reflex, Sirius smoothly turned in his place and drew the arms he had raised from having his hands in his hair to down around Remus' torso, pulling himself against the other so that they were chest to chest, and hip to hip. Sirius could feel the toe of his old Converse against the inner arch of Remus' tatty brown boot.
His face was pressed into Remus' shoulder; he breathed deep then heaved a sigh crossed with a whimper. "So much," he said, added as an afterthought to his admission of having dearly missed his oldest and best friend. Remus still smelled the same, of chocolate, libraries, and something vaguely wild. He was warm, too, as Sirius hadn't realized how cold his flesh had become from living in seclusion for so long, and the comforting heat seemed to draw him closer as he hugged Remus tighter, his hands clasped at the small of the other man's back. Sirius turned his head and exhaled against Remus' neck, ear, and cheek, and murmured, "Thank you for staying behind."
Sirius' voice was filled with heavy emotion that caused Remus to look over at him concerned, yet hopeful. Sirius had been withdrawn and angry since he had been stuck at Grimmauld, and Remus couldn't blame him; then with the added tension between the two of them Sirius had become increasingly closed up from Remus. Maybe this could be the moment they could let all that go and just be together, so that their newly found time together was one of making good memories and not struggling over something that happened long ago.
When Sirius moved his hand onto him and pulled him closer, there was a moment where Remus was unsure as to what was going to happen next. His body tensed slightly as he felt Sirius' hands move down his torso, and pull him even closer. The feeling of it was scary, it was foreign, it was wanted, and for the moment Remus was too petrified to do anything in fear of how it would be taken. As Sirius pressed his face into Remus' shoulder thanking him for staying behind, Remus was surrounded by Sirius' scent. He smelled of loneliness, he smelled of isolation, and he even smelled himself on him, yet still Remus could identify the underlying scents that had always comforted him in the past; the smell of fresh cut grass, of outside wood fires, and faintly of dog. The old smells are what caused Remus' fear to break as he realized just who this was holding him, no matter how much time had passed, no matter what had happened between them that was unspoken of, and he put his arms around his friend embracing him tightly. "We have spent far too long apart, I was not about to leave you now."
For a moment, the panic that Remus would reject him smothered Sirius; once his words were spoken the world seemed to pause and hang in a balance with Remus holding the power to either topple everything or nudge the gears back into natural motion. Sirius was afraid that he'd gone too far; he hadn't fully realized just how close and intimate the positioning of their bodies was. Against him, each nerve ending alert, he could feel every inch of muscle and flesh in Remus' body twitch with nervousness. Staring at Remus' neck, breath held, Sirius watched Remus' adam's apple bob as he swallowed and then spoke the words he needed to hear and hugged him tightly with the embrace he needed to have reciprocated.
Sirius let go and ran a hand through his hair, and smiled somewhat sheepishly at his friend. He felt hot all over, and could feel his cheeks burning. Scratching the back of his neck, he cleared his throat and nonchalantly tossed out, "So, now that we have run of this old bustbin, what do you say to a drink of something a little stronger?"
The embrace didn't seem to last long enough to Remus, and when Sirius stepped away he had to fight himself a moment not to pull Sirius to him again. Remus hadn't realized how much he had missed the close embrace from his friend, it was warmth, acceptance, and even love all wrapped into one; and it was something he hadn't felt in years. He was too involved with what he was feeling to notice any awkwardness Sirius might have been having as Remus ran a hand through his hair, it wasn't until Sirius spoke that he was brought back from his own thoughts. "You know, I think a drink sounds lovely," Remus replied with a slow smile, "How about you pour, and I'll start something for dinner? Let's make an evening of it, like we used to."
Sirius made a reach for his cigarette tin and lit one, nodding and grinning, "Some things never change."
He clapped Remus on the shoulder and his hand lingered for a fraction of a second too long, his fingers trailing over the soft material his shirt was woven of. An easy chuckle alleviated the resurgence of tension Sirius felt. "Let's get inside, it's too dark."
Turning on his heel, Sirius made his way back to the door to the roof, the end of his cigarette bobbing along ahead of him as a tiny orange beacon amid the fallen night. He waited for Remus to follow with the tea service and locked the door once they were both inside.
The house actually felt somewhat warm and welcoming now. Chalking it up to him finally getting a grip on himself and no longer feeling inclined to lash out passive-aggressively at Remus, Sirius' step regained its natural bounce of somewhat cocky self-assurance, which was clearly indicative of his restored good cheer. Hopefully it would last.
Sirius wound down the flights of stairs, spotting no sign of the wretched Kreacher, until he arrived in the vast kitchen and illuminated the space with a single wave of his hand. It felt lonesome and empty without the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, and the other Order members milling around with sandwiches or sitting at the table and talking over mugs of butterbeer or tea. Sirius went over to a dusty cabinet with a padlock on it and opened it to reveal several very old looking bottles. "Some of the last of the reserve I found in the cellar when I got here," he explained as he withdrew a bottle from inside with the sound of glass clinking as he spoke. "Stuff could probably strip every wall in this house, I reckon," he snorted as he began to root through a drawer for a corkscrew.
"Ah, then it shouldn't taste any different than what we used to drink when we were underage at Hogwarts then, so it will be just like old times," Remus teased with a smile as he went to the pantry to inspect what he might have to work with for dinner. Happy to see that it was stocked with various items, Remus reminded himself to thank Molly Weasley next time he saw her, as he knew it was her doing that there was anything in the house at all. Remus knew that since he had just gotten Sirius to eat that small sandwich his chance at getting him to eat a big meal was nil, so he chose to make a small pasta dish with a green salad. Grabbing the ingredients that he thought he needed he placed them on the counter and started to prepare the sauce.
Remus heard Sirius muttering and cursing under his breath and looked over to see what was wrong and smiled slightly when he saw that Sirius seemed to be having problems with the cork. "Do you need help over there?" Remus asked and Sirius gave him a look that told him that not only did he not need help, but that he could mind his own business. Remus kept a snort of amusement in while he returned to cooking a simple sauce, and left Sirius to keep working on the elusive cork while muttering something about what it could do to his mother. A minute or two later a very distinct pop was heard and the full rich aroma of chardonnay started to fill the kitchen. "It smells as if it hasn't turned at all," Remus said as he added the pasta to the boiling water and moved to start cutting the vegetables for the salad. Sirius offered him a glass and he tasted it. "No, it seems that this is just lovely," Remus said and took another swallow, "this will go well with dinner, good choice. Now, would you mind setting a couple of places for us?" Remus asked while he placed his glass on the counter to finish the salad then used his wand to place it on the table.
He hummed softly as he worked occasionally looking over his shoulder to see what Sirius was up to, and he grinned to himself as he saw that Sirius had indeed set the table as asked. When the food was finally prepared and on the table, it seemed like there was something off. Remembering that he saw a block of parmesan cheese in the pantry, it didn't take him long to find it and as he grabbed his find he heard a grating, hiss mutter, "Dirty wolf scum desecrating the house of my Master, should be sliced to ribbons with the silver he should."
Remus paused for a moment and then said with a tired sigh, "Good evening Kreacher. Care to join us for dinner, or do you plan on sitting in the pantry plotting my demise?"
Sirius had just settled into his seat when he heard Remus utter that filthy name: Kreacher.
The house elf glowered menacingly at Remus from the doorway, wringing his hands as he shuffled into the room, hugging the wall as if he thought that would provide sufficient camouflage from the two grown men. "Filthy drunk scoundrels, desecrating the family wine store, wasting it like it was nothing more than water... yes, they're awful creatures, unnatural things, Kreacher thought they all had gone..." he hissed darkly. "Kreacher should go tell the Lady of the house right aw–"
"Oh bloody fuck, I knew it was too good to be true that I hadn't been graced with the delight of his company yet today," Sirius swore as he angrily pushed his chair back and got to his feet. Grabbing the corkscrew that lay on the counter next to where Remus had been chopping vegetables, Sirius turned on the elf and scowled, wielding the utensil and clearly not afraid to use it. Standing at his full height, his shadow fell over Kreacher, who now stopped in his tracks where he was up against the wall. "You! Get out of here, wretched piece of filth, before I take you up and feed you to Buckbeak - he's been growing tired of ferrets," he growled while walking nearer. "Go on!" Sirius nudged the elf out of the room with no small amount of unnecessary cruelty, and called out after him in a harsh whisper so as to not disturb the portrait, "Bring up some more bottles from downstairs, I'm going to send them out as gifts. Now."
Shaking his head, Sirius tossed the corkscrew back on the counter and muttered a few choice obscenities while Kreacher stalked away in the opposite direction of the wine cellar. "Do you think Hermione would be offended if I said that the corkscrew only slipped?" he said snarkily on his way back to the table where Remus sat, an expression of quiet amusement playing on his handsome face. He sat down and stared at his plate, as if unsure what to do next. Instead, he made a reach for his wine glass and took a deep swallow before setting it back down on the table. "Very well, then," Sirius said quickly, glancing at Remus from across the table before redirecting his attention to the mess of greens in the bowl next to the steaming heap of pasta.
"I think if you told her that it would be a good possibility that an accident would happen with you and that corkscrew during the next holiday," Remus said to him good naturedly as he picked up his fork and started in on his salad. After a moment Remus noticed that Sirius wasn't eating his food, and he put his fork down and looked at him. The other man seemed to be at a loss looking at his food and picking at it lightly, worry began to touch him as he looked at his gaunt friend not eating and finally decided it's time to say something. "Is there something wrong with your plate, Sirius?"
"No," Sirius replied, voice stiff. "It's all lovely." With some minor hesitation, he picked up his fork and started to chip away at the fresh salad Remus had taken the time to prepare. It was not difficult to feel the awkwardness of it and the concern Remus was giving off in regard to Sirius' health. Sure, since adolescence Sirius had always been on the lean, even skinny, side, but he could put away as much or more food than someone twice his size, not to mention out-drink them three to one odds. But when he was under extreme strain due to stress, depression, or whatever else… it was an entirely different story. His appearance deteriorated as he went unshaven and his hair grew out in a mass of tangled curls that fell in front of his yes, his appetite vanished, and his vices seemed to intensify tenfold, meaning that his daily meal usually consisted of a large goblet of wine and five cigarettes.
Sirius got through half of his salad before pushing it away and ladling some of the pasta and sauce onto his plate. Admittedly, the aroma piqued his senses and since Remus was such an exceptional cook, he felt that he couldn't refuse the meal, even if it was only to indulge his friend and not hurt his feelings. Inside, he felt himself start to feel a little bit sick, but that was helped by steadily sipping on the chardonnay.
"After dinner I thought we could go up to the library," Sirius abruptly chimed in with. "Knowing your overwhelming lust for books I had pulled out some old volumes I thought might interest you. Merlin knows I don't need them for anything," he finished, smirking wryly. "Kreacher shouldn't bother us," he added, glancing at the clock on the wall, "he's holed up with my father's old trousers by now, so he won't move until tomorrow morning."
With the subject of books and the library brought up, Remus' ears perked up considerably and a large smile came to his face. "I think that sounds like an excellent idea! Perhaps we could have a glass of sherry and I could read to you for a bit?" he asked as he mused at how pleasant it all sounded while he finished his meal.
A few minutes later while Remus was cleaning up the dishes and Sirius was once again getting the drinks ready, he noticed that even though Sirius had eaten something it wasn't a lot, especially compared to the four glasses of wine he had consumed during the meal. I've got to get him to start eating again. He's wasting away, Remus thought as he entered the library, where his old friend stood waiting for him with a glass of sherry held out to him.
They both settled in, Remus in a dark green overstuffed armchair with mahogany trim and legs and Sirius lying on the couch next to him with his long hair over the arm. Remus started to read aloud to them, and halfway through the evening as he continued to read with his friend listening he started to feel something come over him that felt so foreign yet familiar, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It wasn't uncomfortable but it wasn't common either; he puzzled over it as he continued to read, occasionally taking small sips of his sherry. Looking over at Sirius who had his eyes closed while he listened to Remus read to him, his face relaxed and his glass of sherry held in his hands which were on his chest, he looked relaxed for the first time since Remus had seen him again. They were cozy and absorbed in each other's company, it felt right, and it was how things should be.
It was in that moment that Remus came to the realization of what it was he had been feeling, and the knowledge of it caused him to have a very satisfied smile come to his lips, for the first time in twelve years Remus felt at peace.