Disclaimer: This is fanfiction. You think about that.
Rating: PG-13 (eventually)
A/N: This is turning out to be a lot longer than I expected. Not that I'm not enjoying writing it, but I did expect it to be finished by Chapter 5.
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It took over two hours and several more cups of coffee before Hestia believed them. Even then, Remus was sure that it was only their continued insistence that Dumbledore could and would verify their story that convinced her. Before she left, she promised that she would not tell anyone of Sirius' whereabouts, and just as she was about to step into the fire, she looked over her shoulder and added
"You can still tell Dumbledore to count me in."
Neither of them had time to respond before she had gone.
With a heavy sigh, Remus closed his eyes and leant back into the sofa. "I was worried for a while, there," he admitted.
"She wasn't happy, was she?" sighed Sirius. "Mind you," he added, "that was a bit of bad timing on my part, wasn't it?"
"It could have been better. I was just about to try and explain you. Why *are* you back so soon?"
"Sturgis was out. At work, I suppose."
"Did you leave a note for him, too?" asked Remus warily, not looking forward to having to go through the whole scene again, and Sirius laughed.
"No. I'll go back later. There's no more I can do until Dumbledore contacts me. Not unless Sturgis has some more addresses, anyway."
Remus nodded and opened his eyes again. He could feel the beginnings of a headache, and it felt like it was going to be a nasty one. His eyes fell on the collection of used cups on the table. He ought to clear those away. He sat up and reached for the first, but Sirius jumped quickly to his feet.
"No, I'll get those. Locomotor cups." Immediately they jumped into the air, and jostling and clinking, they followed Sirius into the kitchen like a flock of ducklings. Remus stifled a smile at Sirius' expense. It had always amused him to see Sirius doing household chores; he did not look like the sort of person who did such things. As soon imagine Professor Dumbledore darning socks.
He rubbed ruefully at his neck. He always suffered from headaches and tense muscles in the run up to a full moon, but with that still weeks away this could be down to nothing but stress. There had been a moment – before Sirius had taken control of the situation – when he had been almost sure Hestia was going to turn them both in to the Ministry.
The sofa suddenly sagged and Remus jumped; Sirius had just sat down again but Remus had not even realised he was back in the room.
"You walk too quietly," he scolded. "Although... I seem to recall that's why we called you Padfoot in the first place."
Sirius laughed. "That's right. And you deserved Moony for all the times we had to wake you out of a daydream."
"I never daydream; I was thinking. I understand that's a foreign concept for you..." He ducked Sirius' playful punch, but that pulled at his neck muscles again and he grimaced.
"Here," said Sirius quietly. "I think I remember how to do this..." He used to be very good at massages – Remus was not the only person who could vouch for that – but it was not a skill he had had much call for in the last fourteen years. Still, a tiny smile appeared on Remus' face as he rubbed gently at his shoulders, so he could not have completely lost his knack for it.
This was unexpected but very effective; Remus felt the tension melting out of his neck and shoulders. Nothing had ever been able to relax him as well as one of Sirius' massages... well, almost nothing, but *that* was not an option. Sirius was instantly forgiven for irritating him that morning. He closed his eyes to shut out the dingy living room; shut out the noises of the cups washing themselves up in the kitchen, the scratching and rustling of Buckbeak in the garden.
"Re?"
He opened his eyes and looked round at Sirius in sudden surprise. Sirius had stopped, but his hands still rested on Remus' shoulders, and he looked... anxious? Concerned? Remus could not quite place it.
"You know," he remarked, his voice unexpectedly hoarse, "I don't think anyone's called me that since..." Since Sirius had been put into Azkaban, but it did not seem fair to remind him of that. Instead, he said with simple truth "I missed you, Padfoot."
Sirius' blue eyes seemed to darken. His hands slid away and he turned his back on Remus. "No you didn't," he replied, his voice muffled. "You thought I was a murderer and a traitor. Not that I'm blaming you; what else could you think? But if you thought of me at all you must have hated me for what I did to you. To them."
Remus shook his head mutely, but Sirius was not looking at him. "Sirius!" he exclaimed, grabbing his friend's shoulder and forcing him to turn back. "I missed you," he repeated firmly. Sirius still looked disbelieving; his faced closed, and Remus realised that nothing short of brutal truth was going to convince him. "Yes, I thought you were the traitor. I thought you killed James and Lily. But even if I hated you then, it was for taking away my Sirius as well as for the deaths. *My* Sirius would never have betrayed us... do you see? Even when I thought you were the murderer, I missed the Sirius I remembered."
"Your Sirius?" he repeated with a half amused, half disbelieving expression.
Remus shrugged awkwardly. "And they always thought you were the possessive one," he joked, trying to pass it off.
"I had my moments," admitted Sirius. They were skirting around their history without actually acknowledging it, and the pauses in the conversation were becoming more and more uncomfortable. Something like their old easy banter had returned, but every reference to the past brought up a hundred old memories and feelings that Remus did not want to probe too closely.
"What was wrong with Buckbeak?" he asked. Was it his imagination or did Sirius look disappointed? "Sorry I couldn't come and help, but apart from the fact that I was trying to stop Hestia running straight to the Aurors, I'd probably only have upset him more."
"Yeah, I should have thought of that. I found out what was upsetting him eventually – there were a couple of gnomes under your garage."
"Oh, not again! I cleared them out last week, but they seem to like it there..."
"Well I got rid of them for you, maybe it'll last this time."
Silence fell. After a few seconds, Sirius realised that the washing up had finished; he ambled into the kitchen to clear them away. Unlike him to be tidy, but maybe – like Remus with breakfast – he was trying to make an effort. A loud crash made Remus wince, guessing that his mugs would have a few more chips in them now.
He returned to his fruitless attempts to occupy himself and stared blankly at his book again.
"Hey, Moony." He turned around to see Sirius peering round the doorframe at him. "Did you have anything in particular to do today?"
"No, not really." When do I ever? he asked himself silently. "I've got some work I should be getting on with, but I can do that any time. Why?"
"I fancied maybe going for a walk or something? I saw a pub in the village..."
"Sirius, do you have any idea how much the Ministry is offering to anyone with information that leads to your capture?"
"No," he replied with the same careless shrug that Remus remembered.
"Ten thousand Galleons. So I don't think walking into the village pub is the wisest thing you could do."
"I'm not stupid, Moony. I was thinking of going as Padfoot... Ten thousand Galleons?" he asked, momentarily distracted. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
Sirius gave a loud bark of a laugh. "Well, that's quite impressive, isn't it? Good to see someone's finally realised my true worth, even if it is that idiot Fudge." He paused, seeming to consider the matter a little more, and laughed again. "Ten thousand. Maybe you should turn me in, Moony; buy yourself a nicer place." He continued to laugh, but stopped when he saw Remus' expression. He folded his arms and gave Remus a mildly exasperated frown.
"That's not funny."
Sirius was unable to restrain himself for very long; he was grinning broadly again. "Oh, you know it is really."
Sirius' grin had always been infectious, but Remus fought to keep his face stern. "Somehow I don't think you're taking this seriously. And what's wrong with my house?" he added, in a highly offended tone, his frown deepening.
That set Sirius laughing again, until he was wiping tears from his eyes. Remus rolled his eyes and turned back to his book until Sirius had finished and sat down next to him again.
"So, are we going out or not?"
"This is a really bad idea, Sirius. It can only end in disaster." Sirius continued to grin at him; even when Remus stopped looking at Sirius he could feel the grin boring into him.
"They all know I don't have a dog."
"So I'm a stray. I turned up on your doorstep and you couldn't turn me away. Which does happen to be the truth."
"You'll forget yourself and do something stupid. You never could remember to act like a dog."
"I'll be good, Moony, I promise."
"I've heard that before."
"Please?"
Remus sighed. "Let me go and put on some Muggle clothes."
Rating: PG-13 (eventually)
A/N: This is turning out to be a lot longer than I expected. Not that I'm not enjoying writing it, but I did expect it to be finished by Chapter 5.
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It took over two hours and several more cups of coffee before Hestia believed them. Even then, Remus was sure that it was only their continued insistence that Dumbledore could and would verify their story that convinced her. Before she left, she promised that she would not tell anyone of Sirius' whereabouts, and just as she was about to step into the fire, she looked over her shoulder and added
"You can still tell Dumbledore to count me in."
Neither of them had time to respond before she had gone.
With a heavy sigh, Remus closed his eyes and leant back into the sofa. "I was worried for a while, there," he admitted.
"She wasn't happy, was she?" sighed Sirius. "Mind you," he added, "that was a bit of bad timing on my part, wasn't it?"
"It could have been better. I was just about to try and explain you. Why *are* you back so soon?"
"Sturgis was out. At work, I suppose."
"Did you leave a note for him, too?" asked Remus warily, not looking forward to having to go through the whole scene again, and Sirius laughed.
"No. I'll go back later. There's no more I can do until Dumbledore contacts me. Not unless Sturgis has some more addresses, anyway."
Remus nodded and opened his eyes again. He could feel the beginnings of a headache, and it felt like it was going to be a nasty one. His eyes fell on the collection of used cups on the table. He ought to clear those away. He sat up and reached for the first, but Sirius jumped quickly to his feet.
"No, I'll get those. Locomotor cups." Immediately they jumped into the air, and jostling and clinking, they followed Sirius into the kitchen like a flock of ducklings. Remus stifled a smile at Sirius' expense. It had always amused him to see Sirius doing household chores; he did not look like the sort of person who did such things. As soon imagine Professor Dumbledore darning socks.
He rubbed ruefully at his neck. He always suffered from headaches and tense muscles in the run up to a full moon, but with that still weeks away this could be down to nothing but stress. There had been a moment – before Sirius had taken control of the situation – when he had been almost sure Hestia was going to turn them both in to the Ministry.
The sofa suddenly sagged and Remus jumped; Sirius had just sat down again but Remus had not even realised he was back in the room.
"You walk too quietly," he scolded. "Although... I seem to recall that's why we called you Padfoot in the first place."
Sirius laughed. "That's right. And you deserved Moony for all the times we had to wake you out of a daydream."
"I never daydream; I was thinking. I understand that's a foreign concept for you..." He ducked Sirius' playful punch, but that pulled at his neck muscles again and he grimaced.
"Here," said Sirius quietly. "I think I remember how to do this..." He used to be very good at massages – Remus was not the only person who could vouch for that – but it was not a skill he had had much call for in the last fourteen years. Still, a tiny smile appeared on Remus' face as he rubbed gently at his shoulders, so he could not have completely lost his knack for it.
This was unexpected but very effective; Remus felt the tension melting out of his neck and shoulders. Nothing had ever been able to relax him as well as one of Sirius' massages... well, almost nothing, but *that* was not an option. Sirius was instantly forgiven for irritating him that morning. He closed his eyes to shut out the dingy living room; shut out the noises of the cups washing themselves up in the kitchen, the scratching and rustling of Buckbeak in the garden.
"Re?"
He opened his eyes and looked round at Sirius in sudden surprise. Sirius had stopped, but his hands still rested on Remus' shoulders, and he looked... anxious? Concerned? Remus could not quite place it.
"You know," he remarked, his voice unexpectedly hoarse, "I don't think anyone's called me that since..." Since Sirius had been put into Azkaban, but it did not seem fair to remind him of that. Instead, he said with simple truth "I missed you, Padfoot."
Sirius' blue eyes seemed to darken. His hands slid away and he turned his back on Remus. "No you didn't," he replied, his voice muffled. "You thought I was a murderer and a traitor. Not that I'm blaming you; what else could you think? But if you thought of me at all you must have hated me for what I did to you. To them."
Remus shook his head mutely, but Sirius was not looking at him. "Sirius!" he exclaimed, grabbing his friend's shoulder and forcing him to turn back. "I missed you," he repeated firmly. Sirius still looked disbelieving; his faced closed, and Remus realised that nothing short of brutal truth was going to convince him. "Yes, I thought you were the traitor. I thought you killed James and Lily. But even if I hated you then, it was for taking away my Sirius as well as for the deaths. *My* Sirius would never have betrayed us... do you see? Even when I thought you were the murderer, I missed the Sirius I remembered."
"Your Sirius?" he repeated with a half amused, half disbelieving expression.
Remus shrugged awkwardly. "And they always thought you were the possessive one," he joked, trying to pass it off.
"I had my moments," admitted Sirius. They were skirting around their history without actually acknowledging it, and the pauses in the conversation were becoming more and more uncomfortable. Something like their old easy banter had returned, but every reference to the past brought up a hundred old memories and feelings that Remus did not want to probe too closely.
"What was wrong with Buckbeak?" he asked. Was it his imagination or did Sirius look disappointed? "Sorry I couldn't come and help, but apart from the fact that I was trying to stop Hestia running straight to the Aurors, I'd probably only have upset him more."
"Yeah, I should have thought of that. I found out what was upsetting him eventually – there were a couple of gnomes under your garage."
"Oh, not again! I cleared them out last week, but they seem to like it there..."
"Well I got rid of them for you, maybe it'll last this time."
Silence fell. After a few seconds, Sirius realised that the washing up had finished; he ambled into the kitchen to clear them away. Unlike him to be tidy, but maybe – like Remus with breakfast – he was trying to make an effort. A loud crash made Remus wince, guessing that his mugs would have a few more chips in them now.
He returned to his fruitless attempts to occupy himself and stared blankly at his book again.
"Hey, Moony." He turned around to see Sirius peering round the doorframe at him. "Did you have anything in particular to do today?"
"No, not really." When do I ever? he asked himself silently. "I've got some work I should be getting on with, but I can do that any time. Why?"
"I fancied maybe going for a walk or something? I saw a pub in the village..."
"Sirius, do you have any idea how much the Ministry is offering to anyone with information that leads to your capture?"
"No," he replied with the same careless shrug that Remus remembered.
"Ten thousand Galleons. So I don't think walking into the village pub is the wisest thing you could do."
"I'm not stupid, Moony. I was thinking of going as Padfoot... Ten thousand Galleons?" he asked, momentarily distracted. "Really?"
"Yes, really."
Sirius gave a loud bark of a laugh. "Well, that's quite impressive, isn't it? Good to see someone's finally realised my true worth, even if it is that idiot Fudge." He paused, seeming to consider the matter a little more, and laughed again. "Ten thousand. Maybe you should turn me in, Moony; buy yourself a nicer place." He continued to laugh, but stopped when he saw Remus' expression. He folded his arms and gave Remus a mildly exasperated frown.
"That's not funny."
Sirius was unable to restrain himself for very long; he was grinning broadly again. "Oh, you know it is really."
Sirius' grin had always been infectious, but Remus fought to keep his face stern. "Somehow I don't think you're taking this seriously. And what's wrong with my house?" he added, in a highly offended tone, his frown deepening.
That set Sirius laughing again, until he was wiping tears from his eyes. Remus rolled his eyes and turned back to his book until Sirius had finished and sat down next to him again.
"So, are we going out or not?"
"This is a really bad idea, Sirius. It can only end in disaster." Sirius continued to grin at him; even when Remus stopped looking at Sirius he could feel the grin boring into him.
"They all know I don't have a dog."
"So I'm a stray. I turned up on your doorstep and you couldn't turn me away. Which does happen to be the truth."
"You'll forget yourself and do something stupid. You never could remember to act like a dog."
"I'll be good, Moony, I promise."
"I've heard that before."
"Please?"
Remus sighed. "Let me go and put on some Muggle clothes."