Title: Welcome
Home
Rating: PG-13
(or thereabouts)
Author: plotbunniesrxs
Pairings:
R/S
Warnings: Angsty, and more of me being rightly cruel to
poor Padfoot.
Summary: On his
journey, Sirius reaches Remus' shabby cottage. Prompt from scarvesnhats,
Days Four. 771 Words. Crossposted at scarvesnhats & remusxsirius at LiveJournal.
Welcome
Home
For Chels,
AKA spazzychick96
He trudged on, the ground beneath his paws still muddy and damp from the rain. He had taken to the woods, keeping off any main roads after glimpsing a copy of the Daily Prophet with his own stark face crying out on the front page. They were coming for him, and he was not about to make it any easier for those soul-sucking wraiths to find him.
He stepped on a stick and felt it crack beneath his paw. I want to hear that, he thought to himself. I want to feel Peter's neck CRACK under my fingers, for him to feel like I did when my world disappeared. He sighed and shook his head, continuing onwards.
He paused and sniffed the crisp air. There was something familiar about the scent that lingered in the air, even as faint as it was. Wild, and fierce, and woods, and hearth, and stale tea, and bitter chocolate, and…
Remus.
He took off at a run, his tongue lolling jovially out of his mouth, his tail high on the air. His mate, his lifeline, he could smell it just up ahead. It was a scent that was burned fresh in his mind, even after all these years. The Dementors may have found a way to steal his happiness, but they would not have that scent. They would not take his Moony away. He wouldn't stand for it.
He came upon a clearing in the wood and stopped. Before him stood a small cottage, much smaller than the Hollow. The cedar siding was starting to grey from age, the paint on the doors and shutters had the faintest traces of chipping, and the windows were darkened. He gave a soft whine and cautiously padded up to the porch.
The scent was stronger now. This was the home that Remus had made for himself. There was no mistake in it. He gave a quick glance around and transformed back into the scraggily man. He tentatively placed a foot on the first step of the porch and it gave a creak. He didn't know if Remus was there or not or whether or not he'd accept the stray bag of bones standing on the other side of the door, but he had to try. He knew in his blackened heart that Remus loved him, because he had to, because he was Moony, and Moony promised thirteen years ago to love him forever.
He gently placed his hand on the doorknob and turned slowly, finding it unlocked. He stepped into the shabby entryway and took a glance around. The house was freshly abandoned, the dust not yet a thick blanket over what little furniture still occupied the small space. He ran a finger over a small table, outlining the square where the dust was fainter. The Victrola he had given him for his sixteenth birthday. Remus had taken it with him to wherever his path had led. Tears began to well up in his eyes, but instead of fighting them back, he let them flow.
He glanced up at the tiny fireplace centering the cozy setting room. There were still a few logs in the basket and a box of matches. He set about building a fire to warm himself from the October chill. As the firelight danced in his eyes, he looked up to find a few moving photographs in frames left along the mantelpiece. The four Marauders pulling faces to the camera, James slinging his arms around Remus and himself, Lily beaming at James as he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it even more. The very last, at the corner of the mantelpiece, showed the two of them beneath their favourite tree near the Black Lake fifteen years prior, Remus gazing down at him as he looked up into the honey amber eyes from his lap, the autumn leaves dancing all around them in the breeze. He took the picture down from the mantelpiece, opening the back of the frame and pocketing the photograph near his heart.
I've done terrible things, most of them to you. Not trusting, not believing in us. Never again.
He glanced around once more, finding the soft couch near the fireplace. It took all of what little strength he had to move it before the fire, but he managed fairly well. He sighed and pulled off his overcoat, and using it as a blanket, he draped it over his frail body as he curled up and watched the fire until he drifted off into a slightly fitful sleep, dreaming of the day Remus would return safely home.
Someday
I'll go where there ain't no rain or snow
'Til then, I travel
alone
And I make my bed with the stars above my head
And dream
of a place called home
-A
Place Called Home, Kim Richey
FIN
