Author's Note: Dont worry, in this chapter they actually speak to one another. Enjoy! As always I own nothing as valuable as these characters.

Remus checked his overnight bag a fourth time even though he knew the outcome would be the same as the third time he checked it. Toothbrush, two changes of clothes, extra shoes, all the necessities were in place. Now if he could only get his courage packed away he might actually be able to get into his little fireplace and get to London. He checked again to make sure he had his toothbrush. He was getting more anxious by the minute, he tried to ignore the gnawing voice in his gut that asked if he was a Gryffindor or not. Courage had seemed a much simpler ideal when he was 17. He sighed and put on his coat, tucked the summons from the Ministry into one of the pockets and picked up his bag. He could find no reason left to delay, and so Remus walked into the fire, through down a bit of floo powder and called in a clear voice, "Grimmauld Place".

A sooty second later he arrived in the dusty fireplace in the entry. It was immediately clear that Sirius hadn't cleaned the thing, or instructed Kreacher to clean in, in quite a while. Typical. He brushed the ash off his shabby coat and the knees of his trousers and straightened up. He had only been in the old Black house once before, but he didn't remember it being quite so, light and airy? The last time he had been here he had the distinct sensation that perhaps the family surname was derived from the color preferred in their house. It had been brooding, clammy, oppressive, like the house had its own eyes to survey the comings and goings of its inhabitants, and put them to good use doing just that. But now the wainscoting was painted a pleasant warm grey and the blue above it was rich without being too opulent. He smiled. Sirius' mother was probably rolling over in her grave. 'Defiling the ancient and noble house of Black' and all that. Undoubtedly, Sirius loved the very idea of it.

Before he had time to do much more than remark upon the interior decorating, a pair of small feet pattered up to him and he looked down to see Kreacher staring up at him, looking ancient and petulant, like an angry boiled potato with wrinkly ears and pug-like eyes.

"The werewolf, come to stay," He croaked, his bullfrog voice struggling to contain what were probably forbidden insults. There was a long pause in which he made it clear through look what he would truly like to be saying, "Master Sirius has been anxiously awaiting your arrival."

"Oh splendid to see you too Kreacher." Remus inclined his head, "Is your Master here?"

Kreacher shook his head, "Master Sirius went out an hour ago to get something, he does not tell Kreacher what it is. Kreacher is to take your bag to the empty bedroom near Master Harry's," Kreacher pointed in the opposite direction, "If sir would go to the kitchen there is tea and biscuits and Master Sirius will be home soon." The elf put out a gnarled and clawed hand to take Remus' bag, which he handed over with a bit of trepidation after removing a book to take to the kitchen with him.

The surfaces of the kitchen were sparkling clean, the old wooden table that had served as the family's informal dining table was set up with several short vases of flowers and a heaping tray of assorted biscuits. Kreacher reappeared and poured a large mug of tea for Remus, then disappeared to the upper regions of the house again with some muttering about attending to the library. Remus tried and failed to read the book he had brought, looking up every few seconds at the clock on the wall, though the time never seemed to pass. He nibbled on his third chocolate biscuit (they were excellent). He reread the same sentence on the right page for what must have been the tenth time. He looked up again. Only fifteen minutes had passed since he sat down.

Another five minutes later Remus was in agony. The house, clean, bright and remodeled as it was, still intimidated him a bit, and it didn't help that his heightened senses could pick up, under the crisp lemon smell of whatever cleaners Kreacher was using, that unmistakable spice smell of Sirius. It was the same smell he had come home to everyday in their Camden flat, the same smell that had comforted him in Hogwarts, and the smell he had missed for years when he truly believed that his lover, no his soul mate, had killed his best friend.

Right before the half-hour mark Remus heard the jangling of keys in the door and perked up, most of the way through his fourth biscuit and his second cup of tea. Seconds later Sirius was at the door, breathless and windswept and lightly dusted with snow, his cheeks painted pink from the cold and his hair falling out of the band that tied it back. He stood for a moment in the doorway, arms pushed against either side of the frame as if he were afraid Remus would try to escape by bolting past him. In fact, the thought of leaving had occurred to Remus before Sirius arrived but now that he was here, standing so close, Remus didn't think he could have left if his life depended on it. Sirius was like a force of nature, like the gravity of some large planet - the people around him could never help being pulled into his orbit. Remus' chest suddenly hurt as if he were winded, as if he had run a great distance without ever leaving the long bench on which he was seated. Sirius was beaming, but he also looked slightly nervous, as if he were dealing with a scared and slightly unpredictable animal (he was).

"Holy fuck. Moony. You're here. Merlin's beard I thought for sure I'd make it back before you -" he trailed off here, hesitant. He didn't seem to want to cross the threshold of the door.

Remus smiled softly at him, "Hello Sirius," He stood, "I like what you've done with the place."

Sirius came across the kitchen and pulled Remus into a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides. Gods, the scent of him, the feel of his warmth, it was completely overwhelming. He tried not to notice that Sirius' chest had a fragile feeling where he used to have thick layers of muscle, or that his arms felt thin. Sirius pushed him back, holding him at arm's length and searching Remus' face.

"You look fucking terrible."

Whatever Remus had expected, it was not this. He stood there for a moment, shock clearly registering on his face until he broke into somewhat hysterical laughter. He laughed until the tears leaked from the corners of his eyes hand the had to sit back down on the bench. Sirius laughed too, the great, booming, distinct laughs that sounded exactly like Padfoot's barks. He walked around to the other side of the table and set down a bottle in a paper bag. When Remus had recovered he smiled up at the other man.

"I don't know when I last laughed like that, you prick, you know you're not the picture of health yourself."

"Well at least I haven't gone and got OLD. What is all that grey hair?"

"I earned it," Remus objected, "It makes me look distinguished."

"Since when was that a goal?"

Remus raised his eyebrows, "We can't all be the bad boy of someone's dreams, covered in tattoos and steeped in family money."

Sirius grinned wolfishly and fished two clear lowball glasses from a cabinet, "Whose dreams exactly do I feature in in this scenario?"

Remus, flustered, stuttered a bit, "I didn't...that is…"

"Don't hurt yourself Moons, I like the grey."

He pulled from the paper bag on the table bottle of whiskey, Jameson. Remus broke into a smile.

"I know it's your favorite," Sirius said, opening the bottle, "and seeing as we haven't had a drink together in over twelve years, I figured we should celebrate a bit." He poured three fingers into each glass, "Plus I am bloody terrified of being sober in a room with you."

Remus accepted his glass, "I'll drink to that. You have no idea how many times I repacked today."

"I wasn't sure you were going to actually show up."

"Don't think I didn't consider just staying in my cozy little cottage."

"You'd really rather be in bloody Iceland the week before Christmas than here?"

Remus sighed, taking a large gulp of the whiskey, "God I haven't had this in ages, remember when this is all we used to drink?"

"Yeah, bought from that shitty little corner store with the pissed-off clerk who always looked like she was sleeping in her makeup. I had to go to Muggle London for this you know," he took another drink, "But don't think I'm just going to let you off the question."

Remus inclined his head, "It's...good to see you Sirius. It's surreal."

Sirius looked suddenly quite focused, Remus realized that he had drained his glass but he hadn't remembered doing it. Sirius leaned across the table and poured him another. Their fingers brushed just the smallest bit as Sirius replenished the glass and Remus was acutely aware of the feeling of his skin, "Because I'm even more handsome than you remember, or because you actually hate me now?"

Trust Sirius to get straight to the point. He could be nervous and evasive by letter all he wanted to but he had time to plan for this moment, and face-to-face, Sirius wasn't usually delicate. He should have expected this tactic. Sirius knew that Remus took time to work into things, he knew that his he could catch Remus unprepared he'd get the truth. He couldn't believe that after twelve years the same tactics Sirius had used to get out of lovers quarrels would still be effective. Then again, he was usually defenseless around Sirius. Remus put his head in his hands and slowly pushed them up, messing his sandy-brown hair Before combing it back into place with his fingers.

"I don't want to talk about all that yet Sirius. I just got here and you're trying getting me drunk and…" he paused, he didn't know how to say any of this, it didn't matter that he had practiced this conversation over and over in his head for weeks in anticipation of coming to Grimmauld Place, of course when it came down to it the words sounded foreign, "I just want to sit here and eat something and reminisce with an old friend. That's what I can...handle right now."

Sirius nodded slowly, "Okay. Okay Moons. Friends huh?"

Remus looked at him, trying to express in a look everything he knew he'd never be able to express in words. As much as he wanted to fall into Sirius' arms and go right back to the way things were, they'd never be able to. Remus was different now, he was a man, he'd been through things, suffered in the world after Sirius had left, he had lost everything. And Sirius had suffered even more, he'd even lost his freedom, lost the safety in his own head for a while. They were both marked now, Remus with his scars, Sirius with the prison number tattooed on his forearm. They couldn't pretend that they could just forget it all and go back to being twenty-one and in love again.

Sirius looked him dead in the eye and Remus almost fell into those deep pools, "Hey, Moons, don't worry okay? We don't have to talk about anything. I'm just happy you're here. That's enough for me you lightweight Irish ponce."

He put a large, square hand over Remus' thin one in a surprisingly comforting gesture and Remus smiled at him. There was too much at stake to know what to say about them, so they said everything else. They reminisced and Kreacher made dinner around them before serving a lovely roast and root vegetables. They kept up with one another drink for drink, maintaining a lovely buzz long into the evening when their bellies were full and their hearts were warming in the firelight and memories of better days.

Remus helped fill in the pieces of Sirius' memory that seemed oddly blank. There were stories from their school years that Remus told which Sirius only remembered three-quarters of, or that Sirius would mix up together, or where he would remember the smallest details but not the actual events. He would get uncharacteristically quiet or bashful at these moments, as if he were embarrassed by his inability to recall things the way that they happened. Remus didn't remark on these moments, instead he just helpfully prodded Sirius along until they reached common ground once again. He suspected that the dementors had taken a great deal from Sirius, that mixed up memories were just the tip of the iceberg, but he didn't want Sirius to have to talk about his time there. Instead he kept the whiskey flowing until they were both happily drunk, leaning red faced on their hands and laughing about dungbombs and charming Dumbledore's beard pink, and the time James ran down five flights of stairs trying to catch a crystal ball that they had bewitched to run away from him singing "James Potter is a massive prick, too bad he has a tiny dick" after he had secretly cut Sirius' hair the night before.

Kreacher arrived back in the kitchen at one in the morning and helpfully offered them a steaming mug of Holland's Hangover Protection potion at which point they leaned on one another to climb the stairs to their respective beds. Sirius, whose bedroom was at the very top level of the house, stopped when they reached Remus' door.

"This, this is you Moony Moons Moon." He let go of Remus, leaning instead on the banister to support his wobbly frame.

"Pads, paddyfoot." Remus was flush-faced and prone to the most ridiculous fits of laughter when drunk, "Your house is often-ta- wait that's not right, ostentatious, yes that's the one."

"How are you still wording like that?"

"I'm a Professor...or I was."

Sirius hiccuped loudly, "Traitor to the cause. You were an aca...demic spy from...from..the beginning-"

At the mention of the word 'spy' Remus had gone pale, and it took Sirius a moment to catch up. "Oh. Remus shit. I'm drunk. I mean, sorry."

Remus reached for the door, "It's you know, it's okay or whatever. I thought it was you too."

"I know."

"If I had known."

"I know."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"How could I? I was already in Azkaban."

"You should have come home."

"Moony I was in Azkaban."

"No, that night. When you found...them. You should have come home. You knew then that it wasn't me."

Sirius smiled sadly, "I know."

"I would have believed you. I always wanted to believe you."

Sirius turned to walk up the stairs, "I wasn't afraid you wouldn't believe me Moons. I was afraid you'd hate me for thinking it was you."

Sirius was halfway up the next flight of stairs by the time Remus' intoxicated brain processed this, and at that point all he could do was whisper his reply to the empty landing.

"I could never hate you." But even as he whispered it, he remembered the feeling of holding Sirius in the Shrieking Shack months before, how his mind had screamed murderer when he did, he knew it was a lie. They had both hated each other, mistrusted one another, and they both had so much mending to do. But tonight, tonight had been a step, if perhaps a drunken, faltering one.

The hearing the next day was long, and arduous, full of suppositions about his character and questions about whether werewolves could be trusted as witnesses in the first place. Remus told the story of the night Peter Pettigrew had been caught as plainly and as honestly as he could, but he knew that his word would probably mean very little in the eyes of the court. Luckily for them, the fact that Peter Pettigrew was alive and in custody did say quite a bit. It was difficult to imagine anyone would be on the run as a rat for twelve years if they hadn't had something to hide. Also luckily, Peter wasn't required to be present at the hearing, Remus didn't think he could have stood staring into the traitor's face anymore. He'd already had to face that situation once with Sirius' trial.

He remembered the day they had sentenced Sirius, who had been bound and protesting his innocence loudly as the court read off the sentence. He had looked straight at Remus as they took him away, looked at him as if he were trying to memorize every feature. He had stared at Remus and pleaded with him, "Remus it wasn't me, Moons believe me, luv." But Remus hadn't believed him, hadn't believed the word of the traitor that sold out his two best friends and their infant son. He had stared coldly back, watching Ministry officials drag the man he loved most in the world to the cold, insanity-producing rock that was Azkaban.

Now he was walking through the same halls and Sirius was free. So free that they were going to have lunch together in Muggle London when Remus was done at the Ministry. Neither of them felt like facing the inquiring eyes of the wizarding public. Remus had been outed to the world as a werewolf by Severus-fucking-Snape which meant that everyone knew, no one would hire him and some wizarding establishments where he had been a frequent guest would now turn him away at the door. On the other hand, many were unconvinced that Sirius Black was not notorious-mass-murderer-Sirius-Black and similarly did not take too kindly to his presence. Remus apparated back to Grimmauld Place where he collected Sirius and they made their way down to Soho to a ramen place that Remus had heard about in the Muggle newspapers.

They spent a pleasant afternoon stuffing themselves and chatting aimlessly about anything that came up - neither of them mentioned the rather intense turn that their conversation had taken the night before, or the hearing that Remus had attended in the morning. It only took an hour or so in Sirius' presence for the stress of the morning to empty itself from Remus' tired shoulders, which he thought might be a record. He laughed more than he had in ages, all the stories and memories that he'd buried deep now had an audience, a co-conspirator, a witness who laughed at all the appropriate moments. They probably made a funny pair, the scruffy sandy-haired, dad-cardigan-wearing Remus and the ripped-jeans, black t-shirt and ponytailed Sirius sitting in a Ramen shop laughing until they cried about boarding school.

Eventually they paid their bill and spilled out onto the streets, opting to walk through the city a bit before disapparating back to the house. Remus unexpectedly still had one more day of hearings, so he was planning to stay another night after he grabbed some more clothes from the cottage. It was late afternoon and the chill was starting to set in as they walked. Sirius rubbed his hands together and blew on them as they waited for a light to let them cross.

"So you never answered me in our letters about what you were going to do next Moons." Sirius asked, stamping his feet a bit.

Remus nodded his head, "Mostly because I have no idea. Dumbledore was kind enough to employ me at a moment I was truly desperate. And now that Snape has outed me," Sirius hissed through his teeth at the mention of the Potions Master, "there's not going to be many options."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm in much the same situation."

"I know," Remus sighed, "what happened to the pair of us huh?"

"Marauding takes its toll I guess."

"At least you've got the house, and you're taking care of Harry. People are going to want to employ the guardian of the boy-who-lived."

Sirius shrugged, "Maybe. I have the Black inheritance too and honestly I'm not in a rush. I thought maybe I'd start my own business, or invest in something. I like the idea of having a free schedule after all those years...you know...locked up."

Remus rolled his eyes, "Sirius you always liked having a free schedule. You used to sleep until noon every day."

"Well someone," he raised his eyebrows and waggled them at Remus, "used to keep me up late a lot of nights."

"I remember that being a mutual decision. You act as if you had nothing to do with it."

"I didn't. I was innocent to those types of -"

"Oh please, don't start with this act"

"-unholy unions until your beautiful body seduced me."

Remus felt like he was doing a lot of eye rolling, "You big queer I remember you being the one that kissed me."

"I was already under your spell."

"Merlin you can still lay on the drama thick can't you?"

"I have a talent for it, yes."

Remus shoved his shoulder playfully into Sirius' thinner one.

"Oi bony! Isn't Kreacher feeding you?"

"Yeah, it just erm...took awhile for my stomach to be able to handle a normal amount of food. It wasn't used to it."

Remus blanched. He thought he knew what going hungry meant but thinking about Sirius, who had been used to huge sumptuous meals, going so hungry that he couldn't stomach food, made him profoundly sad. Sirius looked over at him and quickly changed the subject,

"But seriously Remus, you can't stay in Iceland forever. You've got to stop being such a layabout. Come back to London."

"Pads you know I can't afford it."

"But I like having you here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm used to being the center of attention Remus, you know I deserve to be in the spotlight. But when Harry's off at school there's no one to watch the performance."

"Oh so you want me back in London so you can have an audience? Nice."

"Come on Moony, think of all the trouble we could get up to."

"I can't afford it Sirius."

"You can have the Camden flat back, I'm not using it."

Remus sighed. "Too many memories. That's why you're not there right?"

Sirius looked away, "You could, come stay at Grimmauld?"

"I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean-"

But Sirius cut him off, "Look Harry is home for Christmas holidays in six days, he'd kill me if he knew you were here and you didn't stay for Christmas. You can't celebrate that all alone in god-fore-fucking-saken Iceland."

"Come off it I like Iceland."

"Just stay for Christmas. If you hate it or its...weird or something you can go back. But you can't stay there forever."

"Sirius I dont want to be a-"

"Don't you dare say burden Moony I swear to all that is fucking holy."

"But I'm not sure it's-"

"Moony, we're mates. We were mates first before we started humping like rabbits-"

"Oh that's a nice way of putting it."

"And we're mates again. And yes it's going to be weird and...ugh a part of me doesn't know what the hell we're doing but you need a place to stay and I'm not abandoning you. No one should be alone at Christmas. We've spent too many apart."

Remus looked into Sirius' eyes and saw that manic glint that he always got when thought he had a bright idea. It was the look he got pouring over the Marauder's Map in the middle of the night, the look he got when he had some new mischief to engineer or pranks to play. It was the look he had gotten in his eyes when he decided that James, he and Peter needed to become animagi to keep Remus comfortable. Sirius Black was nothing if not stubborn. Once he'd gotten an idea into his head there was no dissuading him. Remus knew that he was fighting a losing battle and he didn't have the energy to fight the way he might have years ago. So he looked into Sirius' eager face and resolved to at least make sure that Sirius ate properly and drank a bit less while he was staying. After all if he was taking care of Sirius he needn't feel quite so guilty about staying for free.

"Come ON Remus its not that complicated. Presents, Christmas cheer, your best-mate, your former student. It'll be grand."

"You're not going to give up?"

"What a daft question. Literally do I ever?"

He nodded, "Okay Pads, you pain in the arse. Christmas it is."

And they walked the rest of the way in contented silence. Remus, for the life of him, didn't know why he couldn't stop smiling.