Disclaimer: Come on, did anyone really think I was J K Rowling?
Rating: PG-13
A/N: It seems to be one step forward and two steps back. You'll have to let them work things out in their own time.
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Remus awoke feeling warm, and safe. Neither was usual. He always slept cold, and he had not felt safe since Sirius had broken out of Azkaban. He was loath to move, but thoughts of the day ahead were filtering through the pleasant haze.
He opened his eyes. The curtains were still drawn and the room was dark, but it was unmistakeably not his bedroom. For a moment he was thrown back fifteen years, as he tried to remember who he was staying with now, but then he recognised his living room and remembered that he had slept on the couch because he had lent his bed to Sirius.
Now that he was awake, he was actually not at all comfortable. He felt like he was about to fall off the sofa, his neck was aching fiercely, and one of his legs had gone dead.
And there seemed to be an elbow in the small of his back.
He sat up abruptly, dislodging an arm from around his waist, and then yelped as his back protested. Sirius groaned, twisted onto his back and opened his eyes.
"Moony? 'S not morning yet, is it?" His eyes widened as realisation hit him too, and he bolted upright, edging to the other end of the sofa.
"Um..." They stared at each other. Perhaps fifty centimetres separated them; it seemed at once far too close and the hugest distance imaginable. The silence suddenly felt very strained.
"Sorry," muttered Sirius. "Must have dozed off."
"Me too. Um... breakfast?" Sirius murmured agreement and they got to their feet, each avoiding the other's eyes. Remus gasped and clutched at the back of a nearby chair as he tried to stand on the foot that had gone dead – because Sirius had been lying on it, he now realised – and Sirius winced, putting a hand to his back with an expression of agony. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"We're getting old, Moony!" laughed Sirius. "We used to do that all the time and we never felt like this in the morning."
"Or if we did, it was for quite a different reason." His brain shouted a warning but after a disrupted night it was not quite quick enough and the words spilled out before he could stop them. Going scarlet, he muttered something about getting dressed and hurried away from Sirius' stare.
When he finally worked up the courage to come out of the bathroom and go back downstairs, Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Wondering if that was a good or a bad thing, he set about breakfast. He thought he should make a bit of an effort, since he had a guest. Never mind that Sirius had lived with him for years and knew perfectly well that he did not eat in the mornings without coercion. He excused it to himself by thinking that Sirius definitely needed feeding up. He was not quite as thin as he had been in the Shack last year, but then that was not saying much.
Sirius' footsteps on the stairs announced his return before he appeared in the kitchen doorway. Remus concentrated on the frying pan.
"Coffee?" suggested Sirius. His shocked expression had been replaced by the old early morning, half asleep look that Remus remembered only too well.
"I don't have any... oh, actually, I think Hestia brought some round last time she visited. She complained about having to drink tea every time. Try the cupboard." He pointed with the spatula, without looking up, and heard Sirius rummaging.
"Oh, good. Cups... no, don't tell me..." He went straight to the right cupboard and pulled out a chipped blue mug. Remus found himself mildly irritated.
"Am I that predictable?"
"You're very particular about where things are kept," answered Sirius after a moment's pause. "Did you say Hestia brought this? Jonesy?"
"Yes. She visits once or twice a year." Remus saw straight through Sirius's attempt to change the subject. He had not even thought about it at the time but the kitchen was laid out exactly the same as the one in Sirius' flat, though on a smaller scale. Not surprising; he had always done their cooking and had arranged both kitchens to suit himself. Strange that Sirius remembered, though.
"Do you see any of the others?" asked Sirius. "It'll save me some time if you know where I can find them."
"Oh, Sturgis, sometimes. He's not due to visit for another couple of months, but I've got his address if you want it." What on earth would Sturgis think if he came home to find Sirius Black on his doorstep? Would he listen to Sirius or try and hand him back to the Ministry? Would any of their old friends be prepared to listen to him, to give him the benefit of the doubt? Even with Dumbledore's word to back Sirius up it seemed like asking too much of them.
"Is that it?" exclaimed Sirius, looking rather annoyed on his behalf. "Out of the whole Order, only two have kept in contact with you?"
"They helped me out," said Remus, rather embarrassed. "After you... I mean... Until I found this place. But I was a burden to them. And the full moons... even Hestia couldn't cope, when I stayed over her house on a full moon."
"At least she tried," muttered Sirius, glowering.
"And Dumbledore kept writing," persisted Remus.
Sirius snorted; evidently he did not think that made up for the disappearance of the rest of their friends. "I can't believe none of them kept in touch."
"Sirius," said Remus sadly. "Can you blame them? I reminded them of Lily and James. And you." He whispered the last, not wanting to say it at all, but Sirius looked like he had been slapped. He sat there staring at Remus in silence.
"I'm sorry, but it's the truth. Half of them probably thought... well, you heard Snape."
Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Would you like apologies, or their heads in a basket? I can probably manage either..."
Remus had to laugh. He looked almost menacing enough to have meant it, at that moment. "Thanks for the offer, Sirius, but I think I'll get by without either. I've coped so far, haven't I?"
"That's not the point!" exclaimed Sirius, and for a second Remus wondered if he *had* meant it after all. He had a sudden vision of all the old Order members lining up to apologise to him, Sirius glowering at each of them in turn until their apologies met his standards.
"Sirius! Do you really think it would do any good? The only times I've ever really needed anyone here was the odd full moon that was worse than usual, and since Snape's been making me the Wolfsbane Potion, that's not a problem."
"Snape!" snorted Sirius, rolling his eyes.
"He's not as bad as you make out," replied Remus reprovingly. "I know he's not the pleasantest of people, but Dumbledore trusts him. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt."
"Maybe Cornelius Fudge will turn up here tomorrow begging to give me a full pardon and make you his second in command," retorted Sirius.
It was Remus' turn to snort. "As cynical as ever, I see. There. Stop talking and eat." He tipped the contents of the frying pan onto Sirius' plate and turned away to make himself some toast and a cup of tea. He was glad to have Sirius back. Glad his old friend had turned out not to be guilty of the atrocities of fourteen years ago, and that he was safe and well after two years on the run.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he would start to feel more cheerful and less... irritated. At the moment he felt as though someone had picked him up and dropped him fifteen years in the past, and it was not a comfortable feeling. He knew – the episode last night had proved it – that Azkaban had not left Sirius untouched. And yet, if he closed his eyes he could have been back in their old flat. Making breakfast while Sirius groused and grumbled like a sullen teenager. He was acting as though nothing had changed, as though the intervening time had not happened, and making Remus feel guilty for having experienced those years.
And you are letting him, he scolded himself. Fourteen years of trying to get over him, and the second he reappears you fall back into the old routines as if he had snapped his fingers and ordered you too. Well, I'm sorry, Sirius, but I've changed in the last fourteen years and I have other things to worry about besides you now.
"Are you going to wait for Hestia to get in touch or go looking for the others?" he asked, as he took his seat. It came out more sharply than he had intended, but he did not intend to apologise.
Sirius looked up, looking mildly surprised. "I hadn't decided. You can fill Jonesy in if she turns up?"
"Well, I don't know what Dumbledore intends, but other than that..."
"I don't know what he intends, either; I was just told to notify the old crowd. I'll go looking for some more, then. If you give me Sturgis' address, maybe he can put me on to the next couple. I'll take Buckbeak and I'll probably be gone most of the day, but I'll be back here by evening."
The unspoken question hung at the end of his words. Remus was irritated enough to consider not answering it, but not for long. "Good."
Rating: PG-13
A/N: It seems to be one step forward and two steps back. You'll have to let them work things out in their own time.
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Remus awoke feeling warm, and safe. Neither was usual. He always slept cold, and he had not felt safe since Sirius had broken out of Azkaban. He was loath to move, but thoughts of the day ahead were filtering through the pleasant haze.
He opened his eyes. The curtains were still drawn and the room was dark, but it was unmistakeably not his bedroom. For a moment he was thrown back fifteen years, as he tried to remember who he was staying with now, but then he recognised his living room and remembered that he had slept on the couch because he had lent his bed to Sirius.
Now that he was awake, he was actually not at all comfortable. He felt like he was about to fall off the sofa, his neck was aching fiercely, and one of his legs had gone dead.
And there seemed to be an elbow in the small of his back.
He sat up abruptly, dislodging an arm from around his waist, and then yelped as his back protested. Sirius groaned, twisted onto his back and opened his eyes.
"Moony? 'S not morning yet, is it?" His eyes widened as realisation hit him too, and he bolted upright, edging to the other end of the sofa.
"Um..." They stared at each other. Perhaps fifty centimetres separated them; it seemed at once far too close and the hugest distance imaginable. The silence suddenly felt very strained.
"Sorry," muttered Sirius. "Must have dozed off."
"Me too. Um... breakfast?" Sirius murmured agreement and they got to their feet, each avoiding the other's eyes. Remus gasped and clutched at the back of a nearby chair as he tried to stand on the foot that had gone dead – because Sirius had been lying on it, he now realised – and Sirius winced, putting a hand to his back with an expression of agony. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"We're getting old, Moony!" laughed Sirius. "We used to do that all the time and we never felt like this in the morning."
"Or if we did, it was for quite a different reason." His brain shouted a warning but after a disrupted night it was not quite quick enough and the words spilled out before he could stop them. Going scarlet, he muttered something about getting dressed and hurried away from Sirius' stare.
When he finally worked up the courage to come out of the bathroom and go back downstairs, Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Wondering if that was a good or a bad thing, he set about breakfast. He thought he should make a bit of an effort, since he had a guest. Never mind that Sirius had lived with him for years and knew perfectly well that he did not eat in the mornings without coercion. He excused it to himself by thinking that Sirius definitely needed feeding up. He was not quite as thin as he had been in the Shack last year, but then that was not saying much.
Sirius' footsteps on the stairs announced his return before he appeared in the kitchen doorway. Remus concentrated on the frying pan.
"Coffee?" suggested Sirius. His shocked expression had been replaced by the old early morning, half asleep look that Remus remembered only too well.
"I don't have any... oh, actually, I think Hestia brought some round last time she visited. She complained about having to drink tea every time. Try the cupboard." He pointed with the spatula, without looking up, and heard Sirius rummaging.
"Oh, good. Cups... no, don't tell me..." He went straight to the right cupboard and pulled out a chipped blue mug. Remus found himself mildly irritated.
"Am I that predictable?"
"You're very particular about where things are kept," answered Sirius after a moment's pause. "Did you say Hestia brought this? Jonesy?"
"Yes. She visits once or twice a year." Remus saw straight through Sirius's attempt to change the subject. He had not even thought about it at the time but the kitchen was laid out exactly the same as the one in Sirius' flat, though on a smaller scale. Not surprising; he had always done their cooking and had arranged both kitchens to suit himself. Strange that Sirius remembered, though.
"Do you see any of the others?" asked Sirius. "It'll save me some time if you know where I can find them."
"Oh, Sturgis, sometimes. He's not due to visit for another couple of months, but I've got his address if you want it." What on earth would Sturgis think if he came home to find Sirius Black on his doorstep? Would he listen to Sirius or try and hand him back to the Ministry? Would any of their old friends be prepared to listen to him, to give him the benefit of the doubt? Even with Dumbledore's word to back Sirius up it seemed like asking too much of them.
"Is that it?" exclaimed Sirius, looking rather annoyed on his behalf. "Out of the whole Order, only two have kept in contact with you?"
"They helped me out," said Remus, rather embarrassed. "After you... I mean... Until I found this place. But I was a burden to them. And the full moons... even Hestia couldn't cope, when I stayed over her house on a full moon."
"At least she tried," muttered Sirius, glowering.
"And Dumbledore kept writing," persisted Remus.
Sirius snorted; evidently he did not think that made up for the disappearance of the rest of their friends. "I can't believe none of them kept in touch."
"Sirius," said Remus sadly. "Can you blame them? I reminded them of Lily and James. And you." He whispered the last, not wanting to say it at all, but Sirius looked like he had been slapped. He sat there staring at Remus in silence.
"I'm sorry, but it's the truth. Half of them probably thought... well, you heard Snape."
Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Would you like apologies, or their heads in a basket? I can probably manage either..."
Remus had to laugh. He looked almost menacing enough to have meant it, at that moment. "Thanks for the offer, Sirius, but I think I'll get by without either. I've coped so far, haven't I?"
"That's not the point!" exclaimed Sirius, and for a second Remus wondered if he *had* meant it after all. He had a sudden vision of all the old Order members lining up to apologise to him, Sirius glowering at each of them in turn until their apologies met his standards.
"Sirius! Do you really think it would do any good? The only times I've ever really needed anyone here was the odd full moon that was worse than usual, and since Snape's been making me the Wolfsbane Potion, that's not a problem."
"Snape!" snorted Sirius, rolling his eyes.
"He's not as bad as you make out," replied Remus reprovingly. "I know he's not the pleasantest of people, but Dumbledore trusts him. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt."
"Maybe Cornelius Fudge will turn up here tomorrow begging to give me a full pardon and make you his second in command," retorted Sirius.
It was Remus' turn to snort. "As cynical as ever, I see. There. Stop talking and eat." He tipped the contents of the frying pan onto Sirius' plate and turned away to make himself some toast and a cup of tea. He was glad to have Sirius back. Glad his old friend had turned out not to be guilty of the atrocities of fourteen years ago, and that he was safe and well after two years on the run.
Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he would start to feel more cheerful and less... irritated. At the moment he felt as though someone had picked him up and dropped him fifteen years in the past, and it was not a comfortable feeling. He knew – the episode last night had proved it – that Azkaban had not left Sirius untouched. And yet, if he closed his eyes he could have been back in their old flat. Making breakfast while Sirius groused and grumbled like a sullen teenager. He was acting as though nothing had changed, as though the intervening time had not happened, and making Remus feel guilty for having experienced those years.
And you are letting him, he scolded himself. Fourteen years of trying to get over him, and the second he reappears you fall back into the old routines as if he had snapped his fingers and ordered you too. Well, I'm sorry, Sirius, but I've changed in the last fourteen years and I have other things to worry about besides you now.
"Are you going to wait for Hestia to get in touch or go looking for the others?" he asked, as he took his seat. It came out more sharply than he had intended, but he did not intend to apologise.
Sirius looked up, looking mildly surprised. "I hadn't decided. You can fill Jonesy in if she turns up?"
"Well, I don't know what Dumbledore intends, but other than that..."
"I don't know what he intends, either; I was just told to notify the old crowd. I'll go looking for some more, then. If you give me Sturgis' address, maybe he can put me on to the next couple. I'll take Buckbeak and I'll probably be gone most of the day, but I'll be back here by evening."
The unspoken question hung at the end of his words. Remus was irritated enough to consider not answering it, but not for long. "Good."