Author's Notes: This started out as the long-awaited sequel to 'Addictions and Distractions', then I got distracted, new ideas, and lost my mind for seven months. I'm…not sure what this is now, but it was fun to write. Might be a one-shot, but I can't help thinking that I'd love to figure out a plot for this and really make it into something. I still like it as a one-shot, even if it isn't as perfectly rounded as I'd want it to be.

Anyway, please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Naturally, I don't own Harry Potter or the characters within.

Warnings: You figure it out.

Of Quitting

Time, it seemed, was measured in teacups. Every half hour a fresh cup was set on the table by my bed, the other disappearing back into the kitchen to be washed. Every once in a while the ashtray I dropped my spent smokes into was replaced by an empty one.

The oddity of being waited on was ignored for the sake of raging headaches, desperation, cold sweats. These small gestures were seen only as cruel.

"You hate me, don't you?" I'd hissed the last time he set a hideously floral cup and saucer on my bedside.

"It's for your good, Remus. We've discussed this."

"It's perfectly acceptable for an English writer to be blithering drunk most of the day," I countered. "Moment I get home, not even my bones've been set to right, and you've taken anything that makes life bearable."

"You have your cigarettes and your books to live for. And what about me, eh?"

I rolled over and buried my face in the pillows. The last thing that made me happy these days was him. I heard him sigh and set a fresh ashtray by my teacup, then shut the door as he left.

The worst was over. My hands had stopped shaking long enough for me to handle china and silverware and I was less likely to rage at the slightest provocation. Sirius did his best to keep visitors away, and I spent a great deal of my time sleeping.

And after the weeks passed, cravings got to be less; I barely noticed the dull aches that had plagued me until that morning. As if overnight, my skin had sewn itself messily back together and bones wove themselves back into surety. The first time since I'd come home, I dragged myself out of bed.

There were other people in the house; I could hear the voices two floors below my feet. Possibly an Order meeting in the kitchen. I hoped they'd be done by the time I managed the staircases; I wanted a cup of tea. I opened the door and stepped out into the hall, tying the belt of my bathrobe tighter around my waist.

"So you're up," a voice to my left said. I looked up and blinked, wondered briefly if I ought to feel bad for leaving my bed. Molly Weasley was giving me a look that said she certainly thought so. I didn't move to go back, quite sick of that room for now, and reached instead for the cup of tea on the tray she carried. There was a bowl of soup, but the very sight made my stomach roil. I sipped the scalding liquid quietly and peered at her, trying to gauge exactly what she was expecting. I was having a time of it; there was no way of knowing how much Sirius had told everyone.

"Good morning to you too, Molly," I murmured. No reason to be impolite after she'd brought me something to drink. "And how are you today?"

"You should still be in bed, Remus Lupin." Her voice was oddly sharp, and I was pretty sure that what Sirius hadn't told, she suspected. She was a deplorably quick woman. I patted down the pockets of my robe, but they were empty. I wondered where my cigarettes had got to now, if Sirius had stolen them in an attempt to break that habit too.

"Any idea where Sirius is?" I asked, finishing off the cup and setting it back on the tray. She made a disgruntled sound and pointed her chin further up the stairs.

"Master bedroom with Buckbeak, I'm sure. Just had a meeting in the kitchen and he wasn't too pleased about the things being said."

I turned to look at the staircase. The steps seemed ridiculously steep, and I hadn't the strength in me to apparate about the house. I considered waiting, but the urge to smoke was getting to be far too strong. I made for the stairs and gripped the rail to steady myself. The floor was cool under my bare feet, and I could feel Molly's glare on my back.

"Really, Remus, you've just started feeling better. Go back to bed…"

"I'll go back to bed soon as Sirius stops acting like a spoilt child," I muttered without turning back or stopping. The distance between me and the upstairs landing was taking far too long to close. I heard her sigh, then stomp down the stairs, back to the kitchens where her opinions went unquestioned.

I, on the other hand, finished struggling against gravity and stood gasping at the top of the stairs. The reek of blood and wet feathers permeated the floor, strong enough to make me gag. I didn't bother knocking before opening the door, gave a quiet half-bow to the hippogriff and peered across the dusty haze at Sirius. He looked up at once, then bolted to his feet, grinning.

"Merlin, you look like hell." If I didn't know any better I'd have suspected he enjoyed that.

"Feeling rather less than hellish right now. You took my cigarettes."

He stopped mid-step and frowned. "So you didn't come up to see me?"

"The bloody hell would I want to see you for? I've heard you've been throwing quite the fit. I've no more time for children, so if you'll just pass my fags over, I'll be back to my room, waiting for you to grow up."

People kept sighing at me, first Molly, now him. I'd done what he'd wanted; did he have to look so disappointed in me?

"You're in a right mood today…"

"Oh, shouldn't I be? So sorry I'm not my usual happy-go-lucky self, but I'd rather like my fucking cigarettes. I haven't had an ounce of alcohol in two weeks. Am I supposed to be jumping for joy at more of your ridiculous 'improvements'? Give them to me or I'll break your arm."

He sent a despicable look at me and went to sit back down, muttering to himself about lack of sympathy. My first instinct was to latch onto that and tear him down still further, but the craving for nicotine was taking first place. I marched forward with as much of a fury as I could manage and gripped the collar of his shirt, jerking him to sit upright.

"Yeah, yeah, you're trapped and useless in this house, boohoo," I snarled, my free hand digging through his pockets in search for a pack. I could smell the sweet tang on him, there had to be one about.

"You smoked the last pack yesterday. Molly's sent out for more, but they aren't to come in until this evening," he growled back, fingers reaching up and twining in my ragged hair. He jerked at the hair in his grip, forcing my head to the side as I snarled. "Let me the fuck go, Remus. Get back to bed; you're in no state to be walking around anyway."

"Are you planning on forcing me should I refuse?" I said through a fragile grin. Perhaps I wasn't better; I still wanted to make someone suffer. And Sirius was so readily available…It was so much easier these days to break him.

His gray-blue eyes stared up at me, sunken and tired. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days. The look made my grip loosen on his shirt, made me ghost fingers over his jaw. He was still too thin from his stay in Azkaban, and maybe he always would be.

"Come with me," I sighed. "You can't spend all your time hiding up here. It's not healthy."

"Look at you!" he crowed. "Talking about 'healthy'!"

"Either you agree to come with me, or I drag you down the stairs," I snapped, my patience gone. Sirius let out a ragged laughed, almost like a cough, and let me help him to his feet.

Fin Of Quitting Chapter 1

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