A/N: Written for a competition over on LJ for the AU team. Could not have been nearly as good—or would not have been nearly as long—without remuslives23 or planetgal471. (Many thanks, ladies!)

Disclaimer: You know the drill: not mine, belong to JKRowling and her minions, have no money worth suing for...

"Sacrificing your happiness for the happiness of the one you love, is by far, the truest type of love."—Unknown

"When you remember me, it means that you have carried something of who I am with you, that I have left some mark of who I am on who you are. It means that you can summon me back to your mind even though countless years and miles may stand between us. It means that if we meet again, you will know me. It means that even after I die, you can still see my face and hear my voice and speak to me in your heart.
For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost. When I'm feeling most ghost-like, it is your remembering me that helps remind me that I actually exist..." –- Frederick Buechner

The box that Dumbledore had sent with Moody sat, forgotten, on the kitchen table that night. When I went into the kitchen the next morning to start breakfast, I mentally kicked myself for not taking a peek at the scrolls to see what they were. Because I had to start translating them in a certain order, I thought I'd take a peek at them in reverse order to see if I could figure out what they were. One seemed to be a recipe for a potion of some sort. Another felt like Dark magic was woven into the parchment, making my fingers feel oily long after I'd re-rolled it. The others could have been anything.

On the first glance through them all, I was amazed at how much I remembered. As I started to look a little more closely, however, I realised I'd forgotten quite a bit more. So, I went digging through the shelves upon shelves of Moony's books, looking for the runes texts. As I did, Remus watched me, his head cocked to the side.

"Which one of these books has the runes translations, Moony?" I asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question and, more or less, ignoring his presence.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand move, reaching for a book on a lower shelf.

I held my breath as he pulled a book out and held it out to me. Could it be possible...?

I took the book from his hand and slowly turned it over... It was a book about magical creatures from continental Europe.

He nudged me with his hand and pointed at the book. I sighed. "Thanks for trying, Moony." I put the book down on the back of the armchair next to us and continued my search.

Again, Remus poked me and then motioned toward the book.

"Gods, Moony. You've only read that book five thousand times since our first year," I said impatiently. "It's about magical creatures, not runes! You'd think you'd know your runes texts from your favourite book even if your mind is—"

And then it hit me with the force of a blasting curse. Of all the books on those shelves, Remus had chosen the one book that had always been his favourite. His father had bought it for him before he'd started Hogwarts. Remus had read it so many times that the binding had been replaced twice.

"Where's bloody Moody when I need to make a point?" I growled, allowing myself to feel a small ray of hope.

It didn't take long to find the books I needed. Since we ate at the smaller kitchen table, I decided to work at the formal dining table. There I could spread my work out and leave it without being disturbed.

I unrolled a bit of the first scroll and, with a last glance at Remus, who was sitting in a chair thumbing through his favourite book, I dipped my quill in ink and began writing.

It would have been easier had Dumbledore told me the subject matter of each scroll. It also would have been easier if Remus had a Welsh dictionary. As it was, I had to make small leaps of logic, filling in missing runes to create words. I had to then rely on the Welsh I remembered to guess at the meanings of the words and sentences.

And it wasn't until I'd worked diligently for two hours that I realised what I was looking at. It was a document about Dark spells that damaged the mind—and how to counter them.

It took me three days to work through the entire scroll. I sent an owl off to Claire Lambert to ask if she could find a dictionary to translate the Welsh words and she was kind enough to send one right away. The translations were in French, but it was better than having nothing. By the time I finally finished, my back ached, my eyes were red, and my fingers were ink-stained and cramped. But I was also somewhat triumphant—and more than a little dismayed.

Remus' cure—the one and only thing that would break through the damage done by the spell?

Remus had to want to break it.

Oh, it was an oversimplification, but that's what it boiled down to.

The problem was: how did I make Remus want to break through that wall between human and wolf? He was happier now than he'd ever been in England. He was eating regularly; he didn't have to worry about employment; he was getting great blow jobs, if I do say so myself; and he was free to do what he pleased as he pleased, more or less. If he wanted to howl at the thunder, he could.

Why would he want to go back?

I puzzled over the answer to that as I worked on the other scrolls. After some more searching, I found Norwegian and Germanic dictionaries among Remus' books. I also found one for Welsh, though it didn't matter now that I had the one from Claire and had already decoded the only scroll that seemed to be written in Welsh runes.

The other scrolls contained information about splitting a person's soul into parts. The parchment that left a nasty slickness on my fingertips held a spell for casting one's entire soul into another person. I thought of several reasons why Dark wizards might like either of those ideas, and each one made me shiver with abhorrence. I used a charm on my translations so that the pages would remain blank unless a certain phrase—'I wish Skallagrimson could see me now'—was used. I didn't know who might show up at our cottage and I didn't want to take any chances that someone would think I was the one interested in these Dark and terrible things.

I plugged away at the scrolls for days—weeks, actually. Remus tried several times to pull me away from my task, whining as he tugged at my shirt, trying to get me to follow him to the front door and out into the marshes. I tried to make him understand that I had an obligation to Dumbledore to do the translations, but I knew he didn't understand. I was very aware of the irony that, at any other time, he would have been the one leaning over the parchment while I tried to tempt him away with a butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron or fish and chips at a Muggle pub.

Eventually, the shining sun and an unusually warm day in early December tore me away from the scrolls and translations of things about which people were better left in ignorance. I packed a lunch for Remus and myself, and we escaped the house to roam the Camargue.

We rode along in a hay wagon until we reached the Snidget Reserve. We watched the little birds zip around in their sanctuary while we ate our lunch before traipsing through the marshes to look at the birds there. We ended up in a nearby village where we had some ale and a piece of pie in a quiet pub. An impromptu bullfight lured us to the next village over, though we didn't stay because Remus didn't like the cheering much.

All that being said, we were away longer than I'd anticipated. I realised too late that we'd never make it back to the cottage by nightfall. Starting to shiver from the colder air of encroaching darkness, I decided to Apparate to a point near our cottage.

I pulled Remus to me with my hands on his hipbones. "Moony, do you trust me?"

He cocked his head to one side, his arms sliding up to encircle me as his hips tilted toward mine. I couldn't help but smile at his eagerness. "Later, Moony. Or maybe not so much later, if we Apparate home."

There was no way of knowing how he'd react. There was no way I could warn him. I could only move my arms up to hold him even closer to me, trapping him in my embrace. "Trust me, Moony," I repeated as I turned us both, thought of our cottage, and then... reached for the place with my mind.

We landed in a heap exactly where I'd intended—a small copse of trees just within view of our cottage. But Remus, frightened by the sensation of Apparition and startled at the fact that we were no longer where we were had been, scrambled away from me, whining fearfully.

I tried to calm him. I spoke as softly as I dared and slowly reached for him, but he snapped at my hands and seemed to shrink even further away from me.

"Gods, Remus, come on," I whispered. "It's me. It's alright. You're alright..." I reached again for him.

He sprang to his feet, turned, and ran before I could get the wand out of my pocket.

I know I muttered every swear word in my vocabulary as I chased him through the field, and then I made up a few when I saw him disappear into the woods.

For at least two hours, I looked for him. I tried tracking spells, but I was too flustered and upset to get them to work correctly. I ended up going in circles for the last half hour before I gave up. I had no idea where he'd gone or how to find him. I could only hope he would, like all good canines, find his way back home. And if he didn't show up by tomorrow morning, I would have to notify Claire Lambert—and Moody. I groaned at the thought.

I walked back to the cottage, cold, angry, and frightened. My thoughts were tied up in where Remus could be and in what Moody would do to me if he knew I'd lost a feral werewolf—even if he was in his human form.

I say I was so preoccupied because it is the only excuse I can give as to why I walked blindly into a trap.

I awoke to the tingle of a Rennervation spell in my limbs and the sight of my cousin's evil smirk. I was shirtless and seated in one of the kitchen chairs with my hands tied behind me. My feet were tied to the legs of the chair. The kitchen table and other chair had been Vanished completely, and the nasty thought hit me that there was a lot of room for Bellatrix to play. I'll admit I didn't think I'd be getting out of the situation alive.

"Wakey, wakey, Sirius," Bellatrix said cheerfully. "Aren't you going to welcome us?"

"What a surprise, Bella," I said, trying to speak as casually as I could, though my voice grated against the walls of my dry throat. "If I'd known you were coming, I'd have made more of an effort to be ready."

"Oh, Sirius," she said, her dark eyes glittering with something disguised as amusement. "You didn't send me an invitation to your beautiful new home. How very rude."

"It was peaceful," I said, trying to shrug. "If I invited you, I'd have to invite my mother and, let's face it, Bella, we know how she likes the sound of her own voice."

"Don't you think your dear, loving mother should know where her precious oldest son is?"

"Come on, Bellatrix," came a gruff voice from behind me. "Let's just kill him and be done."

"Not until we get what we came for," she snapped. "Now shut up, Rodolphus."

"Why don't you tell me why you're here, Bella, so I can tell you what you need to know and you can be on your merry way?" I said, giving her as broad a smile as I could manage.

She held out her hand and a scroll flew from the dining room and into her open palm. "What are these scrolls?" she demanded, her teasing manner gone now.

"I don't know," I lied smoothly. "I just got them and I haven't had the time to look at them."

"Liar!" she hissed. She ran her wand down my arm. Where it went, the skin on my arms was seared, making blisters rise and burst. I inhaled deeply at the pain. "Where did you get them?" she hissed.

"Oh, here and there. I think I even found one up Rodolphus' arse," I said.

It wasn't Bella who hit me with the Stinging Hex then, because she didn't even move, so I knew it was Rodolphus. I yelped at the suddenness of it and glared at him over my shoulder.

Bellatrix grabbed my chin with her unbelievably strong fingers and turned my face to look at her. "You keep your eyes on me, blood traitor!" Her fingernails dug into my skin and I jerked my head back to rid myself of them. "Where did you get these?" she asked again.

"Doxies. They could be full of doxy mating rituals for all I know."

She slapped me as hard as she could.

My head snapped hard to the side and I heard something crack in my neck.

Bellatrix laughed shrilly. "Aww, poor widdle Sirius," she crooned. "Did that hurt?"

It was my turn to laugh, though it was painful to do so. "Is that the best you've got, Bella?" I asked. Yes, I know I was goading her, but I had no interest in being tortured in tiny steps.

She smiled cruelly. "Oh, I don't think so."

Her best included several spells that hissed and reeked of Dark magic. There were charms that cut deeply into my flesh, sometimes not stopping until they touched bone. There were curses which burned until my skin blistered and my blood boiled. Another spell smashed the chair to which I was tied into splinters, leaving me in a bloody heap on the floor. Once I was freed from the bonds, my torturers delighted in using the Cruciatus curse. By their laughter, I assumed they found it amusing to see me writhe on the floor in unrelenting, agonising pain.

After a while, I was barely aware of the questions that Bellatrix and Rodolphus were yelling at me, much less what my answers were. But nothing scared me more than the sound of the front door opening and footsteps coming down the hall. I wanted to scream, "Run, Remus!" but my throat tightened suddenly at a flick of Bella's wand.

Rodolphus' brother, Rabastan, walked into the kitchen and I closed my eyes in relief.

"I keep hearing noises out there," Rabastan complained.

"Well, of course, you hear noises, you idiot!" Rodolphus snarled. "There are animals and things out there!"

The feeling of relief leeched out of me; my cousin's voice in my ear asked, "Who were you expecting, Sirius?"

"No one," I whispered, opening my bleary eyes to glare at her.

"We know someone else has been living here," Rodolphus chimed in.

"Lupin's been missing," Bellatrix commented thoughtfully. I felt her fingernail trace my cheekbone. "Is there anything you want to tell me? Anything about where he's been?"

I tried to move my face away from her touch but met cool tile. "Don't know," I wheezed.

"Maybe my curse took care of him, then." Rodolphus gloated.

It was at that moment that I saw Remus. He'd somehow managed to sneak into the house and was working his way toward the kitchen, placing every foot carefully, silently, stalking his prey. I looked away. No matter what Remus did, we were never going to get out of this. He was only one unarmed man against two wizards and a witch, all with exceedingly nasty spells at their disposal.

I hadn't counted on surprise and a werewolf's strength.

He lunged forward and grabbed Rabastan, pushing him up against the wall and smashing Lestrange's head against the surface so hard that there was a patch of blood left on the yellow paint. Rabastan fell unconscious to the ground. Before anyone had time to react to what he'd done, Remus had his hands around Rodolphus' throat.

"Stop!" Bella screamed, her wand jabbing into the side of my head. "Stop it, Lupin, or I'll kill him!"

Remus glanced over his shoulder and I yelled as best I could: "Kill him, Moony! Do it!"

Bellatrix seemed to think twice about her threat and fired off a spell at Remus. It missed him by a matter of inches. Moony then spun Rodolphus around so that the Death Eater was between Bellatrix and himself. His golden eyes gleamed with hatred.

"Get him, Remus," I said as loudly as I could. "Kill the bas—"

Bellatrix kicked me in the ribs to shut me up and shouted, "Crucio!"

Rodolphus screamed and twisted in Remus' grip as his wife's curse struck him. There was nothing Remus could do against the spasmodic jerking. He struggled to hold onto Rodolphus, despite the brawnier man's violent twisting and twitching. In trying to do so, however, he was forced to move so that Rodolphus no longer shielded him from Bellatrix.

I heard the word, "Crucio!" again but this time, Remus fell to the ground, howling with pain.

"Stop, Bella!" I cried. "Stop it!"

For the next minute, all that could be heard was the sound of Remus' panting and Rodolphus' quiet whimpers.

And then Bellatrix leaned down and put her wand against my throat. "So, dear cousin. Would you care to tell me where you got the scrolls?"

I closed my eyes and wondered if I could Accio my wand and get out of Bella's way before she realised what was going on and started firing curses at me.

"How'd you find me?" I asked.

"You'd be surprised what doors open when you tell another country's Ministry that you just want to get in touch with your favourite cousin to tell him that his dearest mother is ill." She laughed.

Remus stirred, struggling to get on his knees and Bella said harshly, "Stop, Lupin!"

He hesitated, glared at her, but continued moving.

The Cruciatus Curse took him again to the ground, howling and writhing in agony.

"Fuck you, Bella!" I yelled. "This is between you and me!"

"You know, Sirius, you're absolutely right." Bella smiled and brought the point of her wand to my chest. Pain punched through every one of my nerve endings, sending every coherent thought out of my head.

And then, suddenly, above my screams, I heard someone yelling.

Bellatrix flew backward until she smashed into the wall behind her. Something crunched sickeningly and she slumped to the floor with a groan.

"Bellatrix!" Rodolphus shouted, struggling to sit up.

"Accio wand," I heard Remus say. His voice was hoarse with disuse, his words hesitant, as if unsure of how to speak altogether.

I turned my head to look at him. The rest of me was twitching too much to obey my simple internal command to 'Roll over'.

"What have you done?" Rodolphus cried, staring at Remus in horror.

My brain still seemed incapable of processing things at its normal speed: it took several seconds to make sense of what I'd seen and heard. "Wandless magic," I finally managed to croak. It was only a partial answer to Rodolphus' question, but it was all I knew.

Remus' wand came flying in and slapped into his hand. Then he flicked the wand at Rodolphus, muttering, "Incarcerous." Thin ropes wrapped themselves around the Death Eater's arms and legs and a gag slipped around his mouth.

"Nice work," I commented. I sat up, wincing.

"Stay still," Remus told me, touching me lightly on the shoulder as he passed me on his way to check Bellatrix.

She was still alive, unfortunately. Rabastan was as well. Remus bound them as he had done Rodolphus and then collected their wands. He shoved them into a drawer and locked it with a rather tricky spell that he'd known since the first year. He'd used it to effectively protect his stash of sweets and, later, butterbeer from us.

Then Remus came to me, his fingers gently probing at the welts and bloody lacerations that covered my torso. It was nothing that Moody's Healing potions and ointments couldn't fix, though. Remus rummaged through the box Moody had given me, taking twice as long to read the labels as he would have four months before. He finally selected the ointment that I used on his wounds after the full moon.

"How are you?" I asked quietly as he began to smooth some of the cream on my back.

"I don't know," he replied after a full minute. I thought it was a sign of how unsettled he was, that I got an honest answer from him. I had expected him to say he was doing well.

Remus' touch was soft and tender and I moaned quietly as he worked his way over my shoulders and down my arms. "Am I hurting you?" he asked. "I'm trying not to."

"No, it feels good," I answered hastily. "You're doing wonderfully."

He shifted so he was in front of me. He seemed to look everywhere but into my eyes. "Sirius—" He stopped as if he was unsure of what to say, then shook his head quickly. "Never mind."

"Ask me, Moony."

Finally, his blue eyes met mine. "Where are we?" It was nothing more than a whisper, but it was accompanied by such a pleading look that my heart hurt.

I placed my hands on his shoulders. "We're in France. The Camargue, to be specific."

He inhaled sharply. The thumb on my right hand began to softly stroke the side of his neck, seeking to soothe the shock that I saw explode in his eyes.

At that moment, Rabastan began to stir and Remus jerked away from me. I was almost relieved. I didn't know what Remus remembered about what had happened between us, or if he'd noticed how I'd just touched him. This was not the moment to find out the answer.

My muscles were still spasming from Bella's use of the Unforgivable Curse. I could hear Moody's voice in the back of my head muttering, "Get up and walk it off. Give your muscles something else to do other than bitch about the Cruciatus." So with Remus' help, I got to my feet, reaching out to the counter for support.

"Do I remember... a cellar?" The faint line between Remus' eyebrows told me he was confused.

I pointed to the trap door over by the wall and watched as he walked to it, his eyes raking over the kitchen as if he were seeing it for the first time. I wanted to ask him what he was feeling and what else he remembered, but decided to wait until we'd dealt with the Lestranges.

He descended the ladder, disappearing for a few minutes. When he re-emerged, his jaw was tight and his fingers clenched on his wand.

"We'll keep them... down there," he said, "and ward it."His voice was trembling now, as if he'd reached the end of his endurance and was merely functioning on adrenaline-fuelled necessity.

I nodded and then used a Summoning Charm to find my wand. The Lestranges had been kind enough to leave it in the other room instead of snapping it in half. Short-sighted of them, really. Within minutes, the Stunned and bound trio were in the cellar, which we warded with every spell we knew. We then warded the trap door itself once we'd closed it. We were taking no chances.

I stumbled as we walked away from the trap door, and Remus grabbed my arm to keep me from pitching forward on my face. I turned to thank him and our eyes locked.

Before I could think about what I was saying or doing, I laid my hand gently against his cheek and whispered, "I'd forgotten how blue your eyes are."

He inhaled sharply. "Sirius, did we—?"

"What do you remember?" I asked.

Tentatively, he reached up and placed his hand over mine. "I think—yes," he said quietly, letting the ending sound hiss between us.

My heart stopped. This was what I'd dreaded: the moment in which all my fears and worries about what we'd done would be realised. But he didn't look angry that I'd taken advantage of him. He didn't look sorry. Instead, he looked—awestruck.

"Moony?"

And then he slowly leaned in, tilting his head so that our lips could melt perfectly together.

There was a difference between kissing Moony and kissing Remus. One was instinct-driven, attempting to return affection in a way he could never understand. The other was trying to explore and connect and find a way to express things that had never been spoken. His tongue found its way into my mouth; my hands found their way beneath his shirt. I heard him whimper softly.

I pulled away long enough to mutter, "Upstairs."

His gaze flicked toward the trap door and I laughed. "They'll keep. It's not going to take me long."

The left corner of his mouth hitched upward, and I inhaled sharply. It had been months since I'd seen him do that. It was so inherently 'Remus' and yet, I'd forgotten all about it.

We went up the steps and, without hesitation, he pulled me into his bedroom.

Tiredness and lingering pain faded as our hands fought to remove pieces of clothing while we tried to devour one another with open-mouthed kisses that made us both moan with want. It wasn't just a physical desire for sex that had brought us to that point: we needed this. We needed to prove that we were alive and were both in our own minds. We needed to verify that we were where we wanted to be—with each other.

I started to shove down my pants—I had already kicked the jeans off—but Remus stopped me by placing his hands over mine. "Let me," he whispered. Keeping his eyes on mine, he lowered himself to his knees and stroked his hands lightly down my legs.

"You're beautiful," he murmured. "I've always thought so."

"You never said," I admonished him lightly.

He shrugged and then traced the inside of my legs up to a hair's width of where I wanted him to touch me. "Didn't think you'd want me," he confessed as he yanked my pants down and sucked my cock into his mouth in one very well-executed move.

"Oh, gods, Remus..." But whether I was groaning at his thought that I wouldn't want him—with his hot mouth and clever fingers and sizable prick—or whether I was groaning in pure pleasure, I wasn't sure. Maybe both.

I opened my eyes—I hadn't meant to shut them—and saw those beautiful blue eyes still fastened intently on mine. It was as if he were trying to make a point that this was not the wolf I'd been playing with; this was Remus: my friend, my comrade-in-arms, my confidant—and I'd better be aware of the difference.

I enjoyed the play of his tongue and the heat of his breath for a while and then pushed him away. "Won't last much longer," I panted.

One side of his lips curved upward and I traced it with my thumb. "You think I will?" he asked breathlessly.

We fell onto the bed, our hands dancing over each other and our lips parting just long enough to whisper things that we hadn't said and might never say again:

"...thought I'd lost you..."

"...I was trapped. Couldn't talk to you or tell you..."

"...afraid you'd hate me..."

"...afraid Bellatrix would kill you..."

"...wanted you so much..."

"Need you now!"

And with that, Remus, whose talented fingers and whispered spells had been opening and preparing me, pushed my legs further apart and drove himself into me.

I cried out at the intrusion, and he stopped long enough for the burn to fade. And then, as we whispered reassurances to one another, he pushed himself deeper and deeper until his entire length was embedded within me.

"I fucking love you in me," I growled into his ear, as we found a rhythm that sent pleasure spiralling through my body until every nerve burned with a different kind of fire than had engulfed me earlier.

He shuddered at the breath on his ear and buried his face in my neck. "Love being in you."

His hand wedged between us, finding and stroking my cock in the same snapping motion that his hips were now making. I closed my eyes, wanting to prolong this as long as I could, but knowing it was hopeless. The smell, the feel, the taste of him was in every pore, in my nose, my mouth, and I let it fill me and encompass me and then push me over the edge, crying out his name.

He followed a few seconds later with a loud gasp, shuddering violently, and then collapsing on top of me.

We lay there quietly, our arms and legs still entwined around each other for several minutes.

"Don't want to move," he finally whispered.

"So—don't," I said quietly.

"Death Eaters downstairs," he reminded me. "I would like to get rid of them." He sighed and sat up, then looked enquiringly at me. "But it would be good to know: why are we in France?"

Remus snorted in amusement when I told him Dumbledore had hoped we'd be safe in our borrowed house. When I told him we'd been there for three months, however, I felt a shudder wrack his body. I would have told him more, but he curtly cut me off, telling me there'd be time for more answers later; he just wanted the Lestranges out of the house. I volunteered to go to the French Ministère to tell them of our prisoners, and to ask them to contact Alastor Moody.

He rubbed his temple with a shaky forefinger. "Is the Ministère aware that I'm here?" he asked.

I nodded. "Moody arranged it all. One of the Ministère workers, Claire Lambert, has been here a couple of times to check on—things."

His eyebrows lowered in thought. "Dark hair?"

"That's her."

He nodded once. Then he continued his walk through the front room, his fingers trailing along every piece of furniture, the shelves, the windowsill that he liked... He paused there.

"Are you sure you'll be alright while I'm gone, Moony?"

He shook his head as if he were clearing it. "I'm fine. Why don't you get going? The sooner we get rid of them, the better I'll feel."

He didn't sound fine. He sounded puzzled and worried and maybe even a bit frightened. But I left, knowing that the sooner I went, the sooner I could return to him.

Forty-five minutes later, five French Ministère workers were pulling the Lestranges from the cellar. Moody and two fellow Aurors were standing nearby, watching the proceedings.

"Can't believe you didn't have some kind of wards up, Black," Moody was muttering under his breath. "Didn't I tell you?"

I shrugged. I could have made excuses—or even apologised—but I was more concerned with the fact that Remus had said maybe three things since I'd returned and then he'd retreated to the front room. He said it was to stay out of the way; I knew he was avoiding the strange people rushing in and out of the house.

"Blood traitors!" Bellatrix had been healed of whatever injuries she'd suffered and the gag had been removed. She hadn't said much of interest and had said even less of importance. "I will kill you, Sirius!"

Moody turned to ask her yet another question that she only answered with an insult. I took the opportunity to withdraw to find Moony.

He was sitting in the windowsill, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, pulling his legs to his chest. His face was buried in the circle of his arms.

"Moony?" I placed my hand on his shoulder. He was trembling. "How are you?"

He raised his head and I winced at how pale he was. "Padfoot, I can't—" He stopped and shook his head, obviously trying not to cry.

"You don't have to do anything," I said firmly. "Why don't you go up to your room? I'll be up in a bit."

"Moody will want to ask me—things."

The thought of Alastor Moody interrogating Remus—because that's what he would be doing—while Remus was so newly returned to his mind—it made me ache inside. "You go upstairs," I said, letting my fingers slide through the sandy brown hair above Moony's ear. "I'll deal with Moody."

"But—"

"Trust me, Remus. I'll take care of you," I said softly.

He stared at me for a moment, then closed his eyes and leaned into the palm of my hand.

I twisted around and shifted one of my arse cheeks up on the windowsill next to his feet. Then I wrapped my other arm around his shoulders and pulled him to me, closing my eyes to concentrate on my distressed Moony.

His fingers gripped my shirt and he whispered something I couldn't hear; but, before I could ask him to repeat it, Moody came into the room.

"Lupin, I was—"

I didn't open my eyes as I interrupted him. "Not now, Alastor."

I heard him move so that he would be in my line of sight, should I look up.

"I need to know—"

I did open my eyes then. "I've told you three times what happened. If you want more, you'll have to wait until tomorrow. We're tired, we're sore, we're—done. We need some time."

My arms had tightened around Remus' trembling body and Moody's eyes were fastened on me. There was a knowing gleam there, and it wasn't completely approving. Still, he nodded slowly. "Tomorrow, then. You lads get upstairs and get some sleep." He stressed the last word. "I'll take care of this." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the kitchen, where we could still hear Bellatrix screaming obscenities.

I smiled my thanks at him, and he turned around and left us alone.

"Let's go, Moony," I said, slipping off the windowsill and letting my hands slide down his arms, tugging at his hands. "Bed."

He wrapped his fingers around mine and let me drag him upstairs to his room. We collapsed onto the bed without undressing. The bed was smaller than mine, but it was cosy and comfortable and familiar to us, perfect for nestling together. I pulled the quilt over us both and then pressed myself against him. He curled into me and we immediately fell asleep.

When we awoke late the next morning, I waited for the moment when it was all going to turn awkward, but it didn't. Instead, we looked at each other and smiled—and reached for each other.

Fingers traced muscles and scars; palms followed the outlines of bodies. Teeth nipped at tender skin and tongues soothed the sharpness. Finally, Remus wrapped his long legs around me, pulling me deeper and deeper into himself. We didn't say much—moans and cries of "Yes! Fuck, yes!" told us everything we needed to know.

We lay there afterwards, wrapped together under the quilt, just staring at each other for a long time. I couldn't stop looking at his blue eyes. They'd always been so expressive and, now the satisfaction, the happiness, was because of me.

I had to bring us back to reality, though. "Moody was amazed," I said, "that I didn't kill Rodolphus for what he did to you."

Remus disentangled himself and flopped over onto his back. He didn't say anything.

"Did you know what that spell was?" I asked, suddenly curious.

He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. I suddenly knew exactly what he was doing; I'd seen it before. It was a tactic to stall for an answer or to make up a lie.

"You did?" I pressed.

"What does it matter, Sirius?" he asked with a heavy sigh.

I sat up, the quilt falling down around my waist. "You knew what it would do, and you shoved me out of the way and took it for me."

He sat up, turning his back to me.

"Why would you do that?" My voice could barely be heard, breathless with what he'd done. For me.

"I'd think it would be perfectly clear," he said quietly, turning and giving me one of his half-smiles.

I hadn't known he loved me that much. He could have died, or gone mad, or stayed trapped in the wolf's mind until Moody put him 'out of his misery'—and I wouldn't have known the truth of it. I would have wondered, but I never would have known.

"Oh, gods, Moony," I whispered. "I am not worth that. I am not worth you losing your mind or your life over."

He turned slowly to face me and cupped my chin in his hand. Then, looking right into my eyes, he said, "I'd do it again." There was nothing but truth in its rawest and most pure form in his words and his tone.

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