Author's Note: Remus and Sirius send letters. This story has been forcing me to do nothing but write the last few days so here's another update. I'm planning to have chapter 5 by the end of the week. Don't sue me, I own nothing

Remus was an Irishman through and through but he had an Englishman's neurotic attachment to tea. He had finished reading the letter from Sirius, dropped it unceremoniously onto the scrubbed wooden counter and immediately gone for the kettle. There was no way he could approach this kind of thing without a steaming, over-brewed cup of tea to steady him. He tried to block out all other thoughts as he filled the kettle with water, gently deposited loose tea in his single-cup steeper and placed it in an old chipped Gryffindor mug that was covered in ambling and roaring lions. The mug was well-loved and slightly faded, it was a remarkably different color on the inside than the outside. He smiled softly at the mug, which had been a present from James years and years ago.

Waiting for the water to boil, he sighed heavily, eyeing the letter suspiciously. He should have known this was coming, did know in fact. He thought that a few months roaming Scotland, northern France, and his homeland of Ireland would allow him to formulate a plan, to spend the time with himself that he needed to search his own feelings. Of course he knew that he'd have to face whatever existed or didn't between he and Sirius eventually, but he knew Sirius avoided things like this - he was deathly allergic to any kind of conflict that would end with a talk about feelings. Although, maybe he wasn't anymore. It struck Remus that after twelve years he didn't know the other man at all. But all those weeks roaming hadn't helped Remus know what to do about Sirius black, he'd merely filled his time pointedly not thinking about Sirius. And here was the result. Now he sat here, staring at the letter without a plan and kicking himself.

Sirius' letter had said that Hedwig wasn't about to leave without a reply but she didn't seem to be in much of a hurry either, he imagined she had flown a long way through bitter cold. The letter was dated the last day in August, so Remus was guessing it had taken her several attempts to find him. In some ways it was comforting to know that he was hard to find. He glanced at the calendar on the wall, a cheap advertisement for a Muggle travel agency that featured the pictures of tropical havens which he had picked up in France. It was only a few days until Halloween and he couldn't help imagining the warmth, laughter and food of the Hogwarts feast. What he would give for a warm mug of mulled cider with whiskey in it. Sirius had always loved Halloween, if James had been the patron saint of April Fool's, Sirius had been the king of Halloween. He'd spent weeks and weeks concocting plans to scare teachers and first-years alike and convincing the house elves to help him throw elaborately-provisioned parties where everyone got far too drunk and sugar-high.

He suddenly remembered the skeleton-like, broken look in Sirius' eyes when he first saw him in the Shrieking Shack and the absolute bloodlust that had replaced it as he beat Peter within an inch of his life. He shivered despite the warmth of the hut. Sirius had been like a ghost himself, so thin he was almost transparent. He was built thick, with a strong chest and neck, and so to see him so waif-like, so weak…

He shook his head to clear it. Better not to think about that. Better to think about the task at hand. He couldn't fall apart. He placed a hand flat on the counter and took several deep and steadying breaths. He was always like this close to the full moon, shaky and emotional, every breath was an effort. His muscles felt tight, ready to cramp at any quick movement. He tried to relax the tight muscles gathered in his back. When they had been together, Sirius would cast a warming charm on his hands and rub the tight muscles in Remus' shoulders in the few days before the full moon. He would be the one to nurse him back to health the days after. He had been Remus' whole life. Try as he might, he couldn't help but wish he still had those strong hands to hold on to.

The kettle screamed and Remus jumped. He hurried to pour the water into his mug and took the steaming tea and the letter over to the tiny table against the wall of the hut that served as both desk and dining table. He read it again to himself slowly, noticing the wide, flat writing and the blotches over the i's. When he had finished reading it for the fifth time, he pulled added milk to his tea, pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and began to write.

Hello Sirius,

No. No, too formal. God it was like he hadn't seen the man naked. He tried again.

Hi Padfoot,

Consider me caught. Hedwig looks as if you've exhausted her trying to find me. You should probably get your own owl, Harry might be missing her. So yes, I'm looking disapproving, now with the added experience of having been a professor. My looks are much more stern than they used to be.

He stopped and took several sips of his tea. So many choppy sentences. Not that Sirius would notice, but he knew its what he did when he didn't quite know what to say or where his thoughts were going. He thought ruefully again of spiced cider with whiskey, the whiskey would be a help in trying to figure out what to say but there was no way he was apparating anywhere in this cold. He read the part of Sirius' letter again where he asked why Remus had left without saying goodbye and, not knowing how he was to answer that without opening up a Pandora's box of emotion, continued to the next piece.

I read in the Prophet that you were pardoned, it almost doesn't feel real, not of course that you don't deserve it.

God where was he going with this? He scowled at his own writing and considered starting again but he persisted.

I just, I dreamed of your innocence, your freedom so often. I'm sure you did too.

Here he paused once more. He didn't know what else to say about Sirius being out of prison. Everything he wanted to say felt hollow, insincere. He rubbed his temples, and stretched his shoulders. How did he communicate what it was like to lose him? How long he'd hated him. Now that hatred was gone and instead, nothing.

I don't know what to say, Pads. It's all so unreal. So I'll say congratulations on being a free man, regardless of what your mother has to say on the matter. No one ever liked her anyway, I'm sure Harry despises her and you know I was never particularly fond. I hope you're taking care of yourself and Harry, I don't like the idea of him having to eat what you think passes for cooking. Normally I wouldn't be so irresponsible as to suggest you put off finding a job but, you could probably use a rest. God knows the Black estate was made for just that kind of thing and the aforementioned mother would be quite put out by the thought of you spending the fortune lazing away (which is a great reason to do just that).

I heard about the Dursleys from Harry while I was there, but it sounds like you know more than I did. Dumbledore had told me they weren't the kindest of people but I didn't know he was being treated terribly. Not that I would have been able to do much. I haven't stayed in the same place more than a few months since you went to Azkaban. You know how people are about hiring me.

He considered the question about Peter's trial. It felt so strange, for twelve years he's thought of Peter as a victim, a righteous avenger of James and Lily who had tried his hardest to stop Sirius. Now things were all jumbled up in his head and that avenger was actually the traitor and Sirius the traitor was actually not a traitor at all. Sirius was, or could be again, his best friend, his confidant. But his heart couldn't keep up with his head and the truth didn't erase the knot of fear and anger in his gut and he felt like he was going to go mad just going over and over it again. He'd had enough trials to last him a lifetime. The last one had almost killed him.

I think I'll have to come back for the trial. I haven't received a summons yet, but it's only a matter of time I'm sure. I'd really rather not be there, I don't imagine that my repetition of events is going to add too much to the preceding. It's a good thing we have Harry and Dumbledore because the words of an ex-con and a werewolf aren't probably the most convincing. Then again I suppose just the fact that Peter is alive speaks volumes. Have you heard from the Ministry?

You've always been crap at feelings Pads. It's okay. I am these days too. I think maybe we're getting old.

Old wasn't what he meant to write at all but as he stared at the word he couldn't think what he actually meant. He ignored it and continued on.

I'm in Iceland, I know you must think that's daft but that's where I am. Its cozy and cold at the same time. I couldn't stay at the school after Severus told the Malfoy boy about my condition. I didn't want to hurt the reputation of the school and I've been doing this a few years now, I know when it's time to move on.

Is Harry back at school (I sure hope so)? Are you still at Grimmauld Place? Who have they hired to take my place at the school? I'm going to cut this letter short, tomorrow's the moon and you know how I get. But get your own owl. I promise to be easier to find.

Remus took a deep breath, at this point at the bottom of his second cup of tea. He chewed nervously on the end of his quill and then, before he lost what little nerve he had with his whole body aching.

I miss you Padfoot. I don't think I ever stopped.

Below this he drew a little crescent moon, the way he used to sign all their letters back and forth when they'd been apart over the summers at Hogwarts. He blew on the ink to dry it before sealing it closed, washing his mug, and prodding Hedwig awake. Only when he fed her a treat and tossed her back into the dark, cold sky did Remus go to his little quilted bed and let himself fall apart completely.

Hey Moony,

Finally. Finally finally that stupid snow owl tracked you down. She had to give up twice before she finally reached you, so much for you telling Harry that she could find you. You know people worry about you when you go fucking missing. You wouldn't have thought that of course though. You'll notice I followed your professorly instructions and bought a new owl. His name is Rigel because Harry insisted that we name him after some star in his Astronomy book. Don't blame me for that one.

You have no idea how freedom feels. Honestly I don't think I could even explain it to you. It's like the best broom ride and the best orgasm all together. But it's also terrifying in a lot of ways. It's been twelve years since I've spoken to another human, and you know all my charm has been saved up over the years, I'm slightly afraid I'll unleash it all at once. So I try to stay out of the way a bit, stay in the house mostly. Unreal is the word for it.

My cooking is delicious, even better than you probably remember thank you very much. Every day I receive an owl from my unbelievably brilliant godson telling me that he misses dinners that I made and that Kreacher definitely did not make. Did I tell you Harry has totally impressed Kreacher? Now that Harry is back at school the little shit is moaning about how nice it was to have him in the house, even though we busted the whole place open and reconfigured the rooms to change the house into something even vaguely fucking inhabitable. Some things will never change. I own the damn place and the only kreature (ha) here still hates me.

I do not, as of yet, have a job. I'm not really sure what I'm suited for other than being a dangerously eligible bachelor with money to burn. Dumbledore has sent Kingsley around a few times to give me books and the like, I think he wants someone to keep an eye on me so, at least we know he still thinks I have an aptitude for trouble. If only that paid better and got me out of the house. Mostly I just spend my days trying to read up on everything that I've missed. The end of the war and the trials and more importantly TWO QUIDDITCH CUPS.

I'm supposed to go down to the Ministry tomorrow for the preliminary hearing or some other bollocks. They did say they were going to be calling you. I hope they don't do the trial in the same rooms as they used to. It would be...weird right? Stop fucking saying that your word doesn't hold value or that no one should want to hire you. Merlin twelve fucking years and same old Moony huh?

I can't believe you left Hogwarts. Actually I can't believe you let Dumbledore rope you into being a professor in the first place. You're an absolutely traitor you know that? Going into higher education?! What would James say? At least Harry said you had the decency to give him back THE MAP. I mean it is his birthright after all.

I hope the moon wasn't too hard on you. Hedwig came back with your letter right after but I saw it the night before and was thinking of you. Have the changes been hard? I remember what they used to be like when you were alone and you have some new scars along with the grey hair. I can't believe you're in Iceland. Only you would have the ability to go anywhere in the damn world and would pick the country with 'ICE' in the NAME to winter in. You're an absolute nutter. Are you going to come back anytime soon? Where are you staying? What's it like there? Are you planning to take a teaching post somewhere else (shame on you if you say yes)? Send Rigel back soon, he's a bit of a primal donna.

-Padfoot

PostSirius: Look how long this letter is huh? Crazy. I guess I must be happy to hear from you or something. Harry told me to tell you hello. He said he'd be writing to you once Hedwig had a bit of a rest.

P.P.S: I more than miss you Moons.

Pads,

Rigel is the brightest star in Orion. You know, not that far from Canis Major if I remember correctly. You should remember that one right? Your new owl is quite stuck up. He keeps breathing out aggressively as if I'm taking too much time composing this.

I'm guessing you're not getting out of the house at all. I know it must be difficult to stomach all the noise and activity in London after a long time in isolation. Why do you think after a year at Hogwarts I found a cottage in rural Iceland? I am not a nutter, it's just nice and quiet here. I'm staying in a little cottage at the edge of a farmer's property, he raises sheep and chickens though they're all shut away for the winter now. We had our first real snow right at the beginning of November but I don't mind. The snow stops unwanted visitors and muffles any wolf noises too. You ought to go out a bit though Sirius, you can't spend the whole term indoors waiting for Harry to come back for Christmas. I'm going to ignore that part about freedom being like orgasms. I have literally nothing to say in response to that except: good for you.

I can't actually believe that Kreacher is still alive. It seems like he was a million years old that time that we went back to Grimmauld to gather some of your things when we were moving into Bayham Place. Back then Camden was such a shithole. You'd be amazed how it looks now, covered in punk rock coffee bars. Did they give you back the flat? I miss the old place. Remember how loud the Palace was on Saturday nights? Why wouldn't you and Harry stay there instead? I should have told you before but I moved a lot of your things to the Alligator Self Storage around the corner. I still pay the storage fee monthly but I haven't been there in years. I don't think the Muggles mind. If you'd like some of your old things, I can mail you a copy of the key. Your bike is in there Sirius. And Harry might enjoy some of the records (or, like me he might not enjoy the sound of screaming to aggressive guitar).

I got my summons from the Ministry. I'm supposed to be there in three weeks. They said it could take several days and while I don't really fancy staying in London it seems I may have no choice. Did yours take that long? Did it go okay? I hope they weren't too tough on you and that you didn't release all THE CHARM on them in one go. Fudge might lose what's left of his hair. I shouldn't think the trial would be in the same room. I'll have a word when I'm there.

Yes, yes I knew we'd be getting around to my entrance into the world of higher education. I can't believe it's a huge surprise, you always used to complain I spent more time with books than you. Actually, if I remember correctly, you complained about me spending time with anything other than you. But I really really did like teaching. I didn't think I would but some of the students are so bright. And well, others, not so much. You never told me who took over my post! Also, I can't imagine James would have hated me teaching Harry at the very least. And yes, at least I gave him back the map. Anyway I think he enjoyed learning from me as well. Has he shown you his Patronus? He's remarkably powerful and has no idea. Best keep it that way or you'll only inflate his ego.

The moon is how it always is. I make it through. How's Harry getting on at school? Tell Kingsley I said hello and that I'll help keep an eye on you. Or at least a quill. Should we, erm...try coffee or something while I'm in town? Maybe a pint instead? I don't know if you want to, I'd understand and in any case I don't know where I'll be staying but I'll let you know with my next owl.

Cheers,

Moony

Hey Moons,

I'm going to write just a tiny letter in response because I've got to head to the Ministry once again to do a follow-up interview. They're interviewing Harry today too so I need to be there as his guardian to supervise (can you believe it? I feel so grown up). So a few quick things before I have to run:

Don't be an arsebadger and say you don't have anywhere to stay in London. You're obviously going to stay here at Grimmauld place. I'll add you to our floo and you can come through whenever. Chances are I'll be home and if not just ignore Kreacher and make yourself comfortable. Feel free to come in the day before too obviously. Let me know.

Yeah they gave me back the apartment, I erm...I decided to come to Grimmauld instead.

My bike. Oh fuck my bike. I have been wondering where that thing is ever since I got out. I've been telling Harry all about it and everything. Since you'll be staying here, I'll just borrow that storage key from you and get a few things. I'm sure there have to be some things you want too right? Maybe we should go through it together.

I've got lots more to say but I'll save it for when you show your grey head in London. I actually can't wait to see you Moony, don't let me down.

Wish me luck with the Ministry and see you soon.

-Pads