Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Remus, Sirius and all the rest belong to J K
Rowling, and I am not she.
Rating: PG-13 for mild slash. It's mostly in later chapters (as yet unwritten) but I thought it was probably a good idea to have the rating right now.
Description: Set between GoF and OotP. Sirius, following Dumbledore's instructions, turns up at Remus' place. Remus/Sirius slash, though mostly in later chapters.
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At first Remus thought he had imagined the scratching noise. He shook his head, muttering to himself that he was getting as paranoid as Mad-Eye Moody. Then he heard it again, more insistently. It seemed to be coming from the back of the house; the back garden.
He got up and walked warily into the kitchen, holding his wand before him. Perhaps anyone but Mad-Eye *would* have called him paranoid, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and after the letter he had received from Sirius that morning.
Something was definitely scratching at the back door. He opened it just a fraction, then made an exasperated noise and stood to one side, pocketing his wand and letting the door open properly. The large black dog on his doorstep shook itself vigorously and trotted past him.
"Honestly, Sirius," said Remus. "Why didn't you knock?"
He turned back to his living room to see Sirius Black standing there, looking rather the worse for wear.
"Well, I could hardly walk through the village like this, could I?" he asked testily. "Have some Muggle call the police?"
"No, but who was going to see you in my garden? The nearest neighbour is half a mile away."
Sirius shrugged. "It's habit, I guess," he said, sounding slightly apologetic. "I've been Snuffles more than I've been me, this last year or so."
"It shows," replied Remus, refusing to hear the gloom in Sirius' voice. "Go on, upstairs. Have a bath and help yourself to one of my robes. They're probably a bit short for you, but it's nothing a growth charm won't fix. You do have a wand?"
Sirius smiled and withdrew one from inside his robes. "Picked it up from Mundungus Fletcher on my way here."
"Sirius! You know he probably stole that..." Remus trailed off and sighed. "Oh, forget it. I'd rather have you armed with a stolen wand than unable to defend yourself. Go on. I'll get us something to eat... I was just thinking of making dinner anyway."
He headed into the kitchen without waiting to see if Sirius did as he was told and began rummaging in the cupboards for saucepans. After a few moments he heard footsteps creaking their way up the stairs.
Half an hour later he was dishing up when Sirius came clumping back downstairs, his hair still damp and wearing one of Remus' shabbier robes, stretched slightly.
"You have no idea how good it feels to be clean," sighed Sirius as he pulled up a chair. "Chicken pie - my favourite! Of course," he added, catching Remus' faint smile, "you knew that. Thanks, Remus."
"Don't mention it," he replied, wondering why he felt quite so pleased. "I expect it's been a while since you had a decent meal."
Sirius' mouth was far too full for talking; he made a vague noise of agreement through his potatoes.
"I know you said you'd be coming here, but I didn't expect you so soon. I only got your letter this morning."
"Ah, well, Buckbeak makes good time."
"Buckbeak? Oh, Hagrid's Hippogriff, right?" Sirius nodded. "Where have you left him?" Remus asked, suddenly alarmed.
"Hmm? Oh..." Sirius swallowed his mouthful and took a swig of water. "There was a little wood just outside the village. I left him there for the time being... I didn't realise you lived so far off the main streets. I thought we might be able to go and fetch him later, but you don't have much room here, do you?"
"He can stay in the garden if we Disillusion him. Hagrid used to keep him in his hut; he's used to not having a great deal of space."
"Do you mind fetching him? I'd go myself, but..."
"No, no, we can't have you being seen. I'll go when we've finished eating."
Buckbeak was reluctant to come with Remus. He dragged the Hippogriff round by the fields rather than walk it through the village, but even so his nerves were shot to pieces by the time he finally hauled him through the back gate and tied him up.
"I don't think he likes me very much," said Remus, rather shakily. Buckbeak pawed at the ground, raking up huge clumps of mud with his front claws, and screeched. Remus backed carefully away and allowed Sirius to go past and calm the Hippogriff.
"It's probably the werewolf thing," said Sirius, shooting him an apologetic look. "He'll get used to you, I expect."
"You hope," corrected Remus. "I'll go inside; he'll probably be happier without me here."
The sun had set completely by the time Buckbeak had settled down and Sirius joined Remus in the living room. Remus had lit all the candles and was staring gloomily into the empty fireplace.
"Don't worry about it, Moony," said Sirius abruptly. "It can't be helped and it's not your fault."
Remus smiled wryly. "You know me too well. Even after fourteen years. Would you like something to drink?" he asked, changing the subject. "Tea? Hot chocolate?"
"Go on then." Remus waved his wand and two full mugs of hot chocolate appeared. Sirius laughed. "Of course." For a second it was like old times. Sirius - and James - had always teased Remus about his liking for chocolate.
"Quite right." He took a sip and then sighed. "So. We've managed to avoid talking about business so far. I heard about what happened after the final task. Dumbledore's recalling the Order?"
"So it seems. I've been round to Dung and Arabella Figg already. Had to leave a message for Hestia Jones; she'll contact me here."
"You can't use this place as headquarters," Remus warned. "It's not safe enough. Has Dumbledore said..."
"No, not yet. I'm just alerting people so far. He'll send an owl when he has further instructions for me."
"And we can't use the same place as last time," sighed Remus. "Peter knows where it is."
"Exactly." Sirius let out a huge yawn. "Oh, sorry. It's been a long couple of days."
"Go to bed, if you're tired. I'll clear up down here. Just let me get a couple of blankets."
"Blankets?" said Sirius blankly.
"Yes, blankets, Sirius. Large, square, usually woollen. Ringing any bells? I don't mind sleeping on the couch, but even with a fire it gets a bit chilly in here, and you know I feel the cold." The south was apparently in the middle of a heatwave and a water shortage, but Remus was beginning to doubt that the warm weather would ever make it this far north.
"There's no need for that," exclaimed Sirius. "I'll take the couch, I can't throw you out of your own bed."
"Nonsense," retorted Remus, already on his way up the stairs to fetch blankets from the cupboard in his bedroom. "I've already said I don't mind, and you need the rest more than I do." He wondered absently where this sudden assertiveness had come from. Before, he would have gone along with whatever Sirius had said, however doubtful he was. That was how they had ended up in trouble so often at school, because he had not had the nerve to put a stop to what he could see were bad ideas. The intervening years seemed to have changed him more than he had realised.
He deposited his blankets, and a pillow he had also collected, on the end of the sofa, ignoring Sirius' discomfort.
"Go on, then. You can't miss the bedroom; it's the only room on the top floor. I'll see you in the morning."
Sirius finally seemed to realise that argument would get him nowhere. "Not too early, I hope." He had always been the one to sleep late. Remus could not begin to count the times that he, James and Peter had resorted to tipping him bodily out of bed or drenching him in cold water. He swallowed a weary sigh that would only have served to worry Sirius. The four was down to two, and dwelling on what used to be would not help anyone.
"Night," he said.
Rating: PG-13 for mild slash. It's mostly in later chapters (as yet unwritten) but I thought it was probably a good idea to have the rating right now.
Description: Set between GoF and OotP. Sirius, following Dumbledore's instructions, turns up at Remus' place. Remus/Sirius slash, though mostly in later chapters.
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At first Remus thought he had imagined the scratching noise. He shook his head, muttering to himself that he was getting as paranoid as Mad-Eye Moody. Then he heard it again, more insistently. It seemed to be coming from the back of the house; the back garden.
He got up and walked warily into the kitchen, holding his wand before him. Perhaps anyone but Mad-Eye *would* have called him paranoid, but it was better to be safe than sorry, and after the letter he had received from Sirius that morning.
Something was definitely scratching at the back door. He opened it just a fraction, then made an exasperated noise and stood to one side, pocketing his wand and letting the door open properly. The large black dog on his doorstep shook itself vigorously and trotted past him.
"Honestly, Sirius," said Remus. "Why didn't you knock?"
He turned back to his living room to see Sirius Black standing there, looking rather the worse for wear.
"Well, I could hardly walk through the village like this, could I?" he asked testily. "Have some Muggle call the police?"
"No, but who was going to see you in my garden? The nearest neighbour is half a mile away."
Sirius shrugged. "It's habit, I guess," he said, sounding slightly apologetic. "I've been Snuffles more than I've been me, this last year or so."
"It shows," replied Remus, refusing to hear the gloom in Sirius' voice. "Go on, upstairs. Have a bath and help yourself to one of my robes. They're probably a bit short for you, but it's nothing a growth charm won't fix. You do have a wand?"
Sirius smiled and withdrew one from inside his robes. "Picked it up from Mundungus Fletcher on my way here."
"Sirius! You know he probably stole that..." Remus trailed off and sighed. "Oh, forget it. I'd rather have you armed with a stolen wand than unable to defend yourself. Go on. I'll get us something to eat... I was just thinking of making dinner anyway."
He headed into the kitchen without waiting to see if Sirius did as he was told and began rummaging in the cupboards for saucepans. After a few moments he heard footsteps creaking their way up the stairs.
Half an hour later he was dishing up when Sirius came clumping back downstairs, his hair still damp and wearing one of Remus' shabbier robes, stretched slightly.
"You have no idea how good it feels to be clean," sighed Sirius as he pulled up a chair. "Chicken pie - my favourite! Of course," he added, catching Remus' faint smile, "you knew that. Thanks, Remus."
"Don't mention it," he replied, wondering why he felt quite so pleased. "I expect it's been a while since you had a decent meal."
Sirius' mouth was far too full for talking; he made a vague noise of agreement through his potatoes.
"I know you said you'd be coming here, but I didn't expect you so soon. I only got your letter this morning."
"Ah, well, Buckbeak makes good time."
"Buckbeak? Oh, Hagrid's Hippogriff, right?" Sirius nodded. "Where have you left him?" Remus asked, suddenly alarmed.
"Hmm? Oh..." Sirius swallowed his mouthful and took a swig of water. "There was a little wood just outside the village. I left him there for the time being... I didn't realise you lived so far off the main streets. I thought we might be able to go and fetch him later, but you don't have much room here, do you?"
"He can stay in the garden if we Disillusion him. Hagrid used to keep him in his hut; he's used to not having a great deal of space."
"Do you mind fetching him? I'd go myself, but..."
"No, no, we can't have you being seen. I'll go when we've finished eating."
Buckbeak was reluctant to come with Remus. He dragged the Hippogriff round by the fields rather than walk it through the village, but even so his nerves were shot to pieces by the time he finally hauled him through the back gate and tied him up.
"I don't think he likes me very much," said Remus, rather shakily. Buckbeak pawed at the ground, raking up huge clumps of mud with his front claws, and screeched. Remus backed carefully away and allowed Sirius to go past and calm the Hippogriff.
"It's probably the werewolf thing," said Sirius, shooting him an apologetic look. "He'll get used to you, I expect."
"You hope," corrected Remus. "I'll go inside; he'll probably be happier without me here."
The sun had set completely by the time Buckbeak had settled down and Sirius joined Remus in the living room. Remus had lit all the candles and was staring gloomily into the empty fireplace.
"Don't worry about it, Moony," said Sirius abruptly. "It can't be helped and it's not your fault."
Remus smiled wryly. "You know me too well. Even after fourteen years. Would you like something to drink?" he asked, changing the subject. "Tea? Hot chocolate?"
"Go on then." Remus waved his wand and two full mugs of hot chocolate appeared. Sirius laughed. "Of course." For a second it was like old times. Sirius - and James - had always teased Remus about his liking for chocolate.
"Quite right." He took a sip and then sighed. "So. We've managed to avoid talking about business so far. I heard about what happened after the final task. Dumbledore's recalling the Order?"
"So it seems. I've been round to Dung and Arabella Figg already. Had to leave a message for Hestia Jones; she'll contact me here."
"You can't use this place as headquarters," Remus warned. "It's not safe enough. Has Dumbledore said..."
"No, not yet. I'm just alerting people so far. He'll send an owl when he has further instructions for me."
"And we can't use the same place as last time," sighed Remus. "Peter knows where it is."
"Exactly." Sirius let out a huge yawn. "Oh, sorry. It's been a long couple of days."
"Go to bed, if you're tired. I'll clear up down here. Just let me get a couple of blankets."
"Blankets?" said Sirius blankly.
"Yes, blankets, Sirius. Large, square, usually woollen. Ringing any bells? I don't mind sleeping on the couch, but even with a fire it gets a bit chilly in here, and you know I feel the cold." The south was apparently in the middle of a heatwave and a water shortage, but Remus was beginning to doubt that the warm weather would ever make it this far north.
"There's no need for that," exclaimed Sirius. "I'll take the couch, I can't throw you out of your own bed."
"Nonsense," retorted Remus, already on his way up the stairs to fetch blankets from the cupboard in his bedroom. "I've already said I don't mind, and you need the rest more than I do." He wondered absently where this sudden assertiveness had come from. Before, he would have gone along with whatever Sirius had said, however doubtful he was. That was how they had ended up in trouble so often at school, because he had not had the nerve to put a stop to what he could see were bad ideas. The intervening years seemed to have changed him more than he had realised.
He deposited his blankets, and a pillow he had also collected, on the end of the sofa, ignoring Sirius' discomfort.
"Go on, then. You can't miss the bedroom; it's the only room on the top floor. I'll see you in the morning."
Sirius finally seemed to realise that argument would get him nowhere. "Not too early, I hope." He had always been the one to sleep late. Remus could not begin to count the times that he, James and Peter had resorted to tipping him bodily out of bed or drenching him in cold water. He swallowed a weary sigh that would only have served to worry Sirius. The four was down to two, and dwelling on what used to be would not help anyone.
"Night," he said.