Sirius frowned as he pulled teapot after teapot from Remus's cupboards.
"Moony, I think there's something you're not telling me," he shouted into the bedroom. Remus ducked his head out a moment later, his arms laden with towels.
"Shoot, did you find my diary?" he chuckled.
"Oh no, much worse. I think you've got a teapot obsession. Borderline hoarder. Might need to stage an intervention."
Remus cocked an eyebrow as he eyed the criminal lineup of teapots Sirius had assembled on his counter. "Six isn't an obsession," he stated, shrinking them before placing them in a cushioning-charmed box along with his other cookware.
"Fine, what would you consider 'excessive?'" Sirius asked, complete with air quotes.
"Seven," Remus replied deadpan before Sirius swore and threw an oven mitt at him.
They'd been slowly packing up Remus' flat for the last couple days, preparing to move. Though Remus had still voiced his objections, Dumbledore had told them it was imperative that they seek shelter at the most heavily warded place they could. So finally, after almost two months of Sirius being back, they were returning to Grimmauld Place.
Sirius was feeling much less trepidation about returning to his childhood home this time around. He and Remus had been spending time there during the day, throwing out old furniture and reminders of his horrible family, something that gave him purpose and didn't allow him to dwell on bad memories as he had before. Luckily his nightmares and episodes had lessened as well, he'd only had one since Remus had returned and that hadn't been for weeks. He knew he wasn't cured, not by far, but it gave him hope for a much more normal life after Azkaban.
Well as normal as a semi-mad wanted wizard living with a werewolf could have it anyway. Sirius was incredibly grateful that Remus was moving in with him as well. The other man hadn't given a second thought to leaving his flat behind to stay with him, to keep him company. He was just so selfless that it almost hurt Sirius' heart to think about.
He glanced over at Remus, watching as the other man brushed the fringe from his face, the late evening light filtering through the window around him. There were so many better things Remus could be doing with his life, should be doing with his life. Finding a girl who didn't care about his condition, settling down, starting a family. And yet, here he was. Trapped with Sirius in exile. Any time Sirius even remotely brought it up, Remus was ready with an excuse. How happy he was to help Sirius, that he had no job or family other than Sirius, soon followed by the self deprecation that came with his condition. And of course there was the fact that he wanted to be there for Sirius after abandoning him for twelve long years.
Which made Sirius feel even worse. It wasn't as if Remus had known he'd been innocent. He really couldn't blame his friend for assuming his guilt when all the evidence had pointed toward it, even if he wished Remus would've known him well enough to realize otherwise. But he had also, at one time, wondered at Remus being the traitor. Peter and his whispers had done their job, instilled just enough seeds of doubt between the trio that he and James began to be wary of their werewolf friend. So, if anything, Sirius owed Remus just as much.
Especially after Sirius had run away. He and Remus still hadn't really talked about it, no more than the bare minimum at least. Remus knew he had been spooked, spooked enough to flee the house with no note, no wand, running only on fear and adrenaline. That Remus had had to abandon his mission to find him still bothered Sirius, made him feel like a child needing to be baby-sat, yet he was also warmed by his friend's loyalty and feelings for him. Sirius knew he would do the exact same thing Remus had, if their positions had been reversed.
Sirius shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on the past, he had enough issues to occupy the present. He'd much rather bring a smile to his friend's face than dig up old grudges and feelings neither of them seemed quite equipped to deal with.
Surveying the empty kitchen, Sirius shook his head. "It's weird to be leaving. I bet even more so for you."
Remus shrugged. "It's just a flat. I've only been here since I quit teaching, and even so, it never really felt like home until recently." Sirius caught Remus' eyes widen when he realized what he'd said.
"Aww Moony, getting all sentimental on me."
"Oh shut up. It only feels like a home now cause I finally got that mutt I've always wanted," Remus said, rolling his eyes and heading back into the bedroom.
Sirius knew if he said anything about Remus wanting him, he'd be hexed into next Tuesday, so instead he kept his mouth shut and grinned, following on his friend's heels holding the box of home goods.
The room looked so much bigger without furniture. The walls were bare, all photos of Remus' parents and the Marauders had been packed away as well as the dresser and lamps. Sirius watched as Remus flicked his wand at the bed, shrinking it until it fit in the box with his other belongings.
"Don't know how muggles do this without magic, bloody pain in the ass moving is," Sirius grumbled as he leaned against the doorframe.
"They hire trucks and guilt their poor friends into helping in exchange for pizza, or so I've heard," Remus replied, bending to pick up the box and walking over to Sirius. "Ready to go?"
Sirius nodded, taking a last look around. He put an arm around Remus' shoulder before he could think twice about it, but Remus didn't even stiffen under his touch as he used to. Perhaps his thoughts were likewise sentimental. This had been his first safe haven, the first real place he could call home since Azkaban. It was odd to leave, but necessary. He was ready.
"Yeah, let's go before Kreacher misses me too much."
Remus chuckled before flicking his wand and disapparating them.
Sirius' arm was still around Remus' shoulder when they arrived on the sunlit porch of Number 12. Sadly no amount of golden light could make the place look less than the dreary home it actually was. Sirius was hoping, that with time and good memories, he and Remus could change that.
With much less trepidation than he'd felt two months ago, Sirius strode through the front door of the place he hoped one day to finally call home. That hopeful thought was dashed as they were greeted by the shrieking voice of his long dead mother.
"Traitor!" Walburga Black yelled from her portrait by the door as Sirius sighed and shook his head apologetically. Though he and Remus had been able to levitate the picture of both his parents down from the above the mantle, they'd been unable to pry this striking visage from the foyer wall. Sirius had a feeling that Kreacher had put a Permanent Sticking Charm on it while he and Remus had been busy in the other room, but the grumpy house elf would admit to nothing.
"And good evening to you, dear Mother," Sirius said, giving her his best fake grin. "You're looking radiant, is it a new moisturizer perhaps?"
She continued to scream her painted lungs out as Sirius put his box down and looked to Remus with a shrug.
"We could alway put a Silencing Charm on her you know," Remus suggested, attempting to be heard above the shrieks.
"Oh I have a better way to shut her up," Sirius said with a mischievous eyebrow raise. Without thinking on it, Sirius pulled Remus in by the waist, pressing his lips to the other man. Or at least he tried. Remus gasped and turned his head to the side at the last moment and all Sirius got was the corner of his mouth.
Pushing Sirius away with his free hand, Remus sputtered and turned bright red, which only made Sirius feel all the more triumphant. His friend was adorable when he blushed. Plus it had the desired effect of shutting his mother up for a full five seconds.
"Bloody hell," Remus muttered, looking away and shaking his head. Sirius stilled himself for a dressing down but instead Remus only wandered off, speaking under his breath about "stupid mutts" and "not your damn girlfriend Black."
Sirius touched his lips softly and chuckled before he turned to find him mother gaping. He threw a quick silencing charm at her before she could dare start up again and picked up his box, following his muttering friend up the stairs. Walking past his room and the adjoining bathroom, Sirius turned into what once was Regulus' room.
The previous day he and Remus had shrunk all the furniture and moved it into a spare bedroom to make room for Remus' bed and belongings. Like Sirius' room, this one had a small fireplace and a door that connected to the shared bathroom between. They'd enlarged the space a bit to allow for Remus' larger bed, small couch, and a plethora of bookshelves against walls that they had charmed a comforting navy blue. Sirius had offered him use of the living room downstairs, but Remus didn't feel the room to be inviting enough yet. He couldn't blame him one bit.
Sirius bit his lip, noticing that Remus was now ignoring him. He wasn't sure if this was better or worse than the dressing down he had expected.
"Let me help you with that," Sirius settled on, attempting to be useful as he pulled the miniature bed from the box. "Which wall do you want it against?"
Remus, still a bit red in the face, motioned to the far right wall before digging into the box for his other furniture. Within minutes they'd reddied the room, and Sirius had to admit it felt downright cozy. There was something about Remus' belongings that felt more like home than his own childhood one's ever could.
Sirius flopped down on the lumpy grey couch, sighing and putting his feet up. Then the breath wooshed from his lungs as Remus dropped the remaining box right on his chest.
"Your turn," Remus said, gesturing to the miniaturized clothing and bathroom supplies inside. Sirius grunted and closed his eyes, pretending to ignore his friend.
"If you don't help, I swear I'll enlarge them right on top of you," Remus threatened, waving his wand about.
Grumbling about menial tasks and sadistic werewolves, Sirius left, enlarging and setting up his belongings quickly before heading back to Remus' room. Remus was only just placing his photos on a desk as Sirius entered. With a sigh, Sirius put his arm around Remus, lost in memory as he gazed at his younger self surrounded by his three friends.
"We were so happy then," Sirius mused before he could help himself. The moment was so clear in his mind, he and James had their arms around each other, grinning like idiots, having just won a bitter Quidditch match against Slytherin. Peter stood happily to James' side, holding his broom, while Remus beamed happily at a young Sirius. He knew there was no way to go back in time, to alter the past, but damn it if he didn't want to, if only to relive those peaceful days just one more time.
He missed not having a care in the world, moonlit nights in the shack with Remus, pranking the stupid Slytherins, hell he even missed exams. Life was so simple back then, with Remus, Peter, and his best friend. Until now, he'd never had to resume life without James. As soon as he'd died, Sirius had been shipped off to Azkaban, a place where his time and sometimes thoughts were not his own. Now, free, things were different. Almost sadder. Damn life was tougher without James by his side.
"I miss him," Sirius said softly and Remus made an affirming noise beside him, wrapping an arm around Sirius' shoulder.
"We had a lot of good times," Remus mused sadly. "So many pranks and adventures together."
"It's not the same without James," Sirius sighed.
Sirius caught Remus' gaze, heavy and remorseful, before the other man nodded his agreement.
"Sometimes...sometimes I wish…"
"What?" Sirius asked when Remus shook his head and ended his train of thought.
"No, forget it, you'll just say something reassuring like you're supposed to say."
"Well maybe I need to. Tell me," Sirius urged.
"Fine," Remus sighed. "I always wished-still wish-it had been me. Instead of James."
"Moony," Sirius admonished.
"No really. Especially now. Knowing you are innocent. James would have been there for you. He'd never believe the lies I fell for. I'd trade places with him if I could."
"Don't say things like that! You can't possibly think I'd wish that. What happened, happened. I never want you to think I'd wish you gone. James and I...we were like brothers. But you and I, we're like…"
"Not like family I assume," Remus cut in sadly.
"No, but you know I hate my family, so that's a compliment," Sirius said, earning a small smile from his friend. "You're here for me. Now. I don't know what that is, but it's what I need."
"Me too," Remus replied after a minute, leaning into Sirius, a heavy weight against his side and on his heart.
Sirius spent the rest of the night helping Remus unpack. They hung photographs, used magic to alphabetize Remus' plethora of books, and chased Kreacher away when the elf attempted to steal Remus' comb for some unknown reason.
After getting dressed for bed, Sirius opened the door to their shared bathroom to find Remus already inside, brushing his teeth. Using his wand to charm the water to warm, Sirius washed his face and began to brush his own teeth just as Remus was finishing up.
Since their conversation earlier, Sirius had been unduly disturbed by Remus' revelation that he wished that he had died. He knew why Remus had said it, how much he knew James had meant to Sirius, what he wished had taken place instead of the dark reality in which they now lived day to day. Yet it had been years since Sirius had come to terms with James' death. He'd never be over it, never stop replaying 'what if's' in his mind. But it had happened, and Remus acting the selfless idiot was doing nothing to help Sirius feel secure in his place by Remus' side. He needed Remus here, keeping him sane, rebuilding a friendship he thought he'd lost forever. He just didn't know quite how to articulate said feelings.
Especially since Remus seemed hell bent on forgetting about their conversation and pretending things were normal. Like now. Sirius watched as Remus set his toothbrush beside the sink and disappeared into his own room with a quick "good night" without even glancing his way.
Sirius sighed. He hated contributing in any way to Remus' self pity. The fake facade Remus acquired, with a half-hearted joke thrown in here or there, did nothing to hide the sadness Sirius saw in his amber eyes. And now, with Remus in his room and Sirius expected to sleep in his own as well, he felt the gap between them widen.
Resigned to let the matter rest until morning, Sirius made his way to his own bed. A bed which seemed much less inviting than the one he'd spent the last two months in. Crawling under the cold sheets, Sirius muttered as scratchy wool rubbed his cheek and his head hit a decidedly flat pillow. After thrashing about for a solid two minutes, Sirius pulled his arms to his side and stared dejectedly at the ceiling. And laughed.
He almost couldn't believe himself. When in the past two months had he become such a bed snob? His childhood bed was nothing compared to the metal cot and moth-eaten blankets of Azkaban. And yet he could not find peace here.
With a sigh, Sirius attempted to relax. He told himself he should be exhausted after moving all day. He even tried counting sheep like Remus told him muggles did for some unfathomable reason. But no amount of acrobatic fluffy livestock could quiet his mind.
His thoughts ran, unpredictable and full of worries he could not currently fix. There was the fact that he was forced to live in this old, uncomfortable house with all the terrible memories it bombarded him with. The Dark Lord coming back to power. Harry, happily at Hogwarts yet always seemingly an inch from some sort of looming disaster. And Remus, still literally and figuratively beating himself for things beyond his control.
The latter was probably the only worry he could currently focus on, the one he could attempt to do something about. And now that he was having less episodes, Sirius felt like he was in a better place, one in which he could be there more for Remus.
As he pondered this, Sirius' mind lapsed into that hyper reality of near unconsciousness, jolting him back each time he almost fell into a peaceful slumber. Unsure whether he was awake or asleep, Sirius started a final time as something ghosted across his window. Sirius heart nearly stopped as he held his breath, eyes wide as he tried to remember if they had previously been open or closed. Whatever he had possibly seen no longer was in his field of vision, but that didn't mean much in the wizarding world. Slowly Sirius grabbed his wand from the bedside table, his heart hammering in his chest as he quietly sat up and surveyed the seemingly empty room.
Not a thing seemed out of place. His walls, long scorched and repaired after his mother blasted off his Gryffindor and muggle posters, lay bare. The double window was shut tight, not even a stray breeze blowing at the hanging curtains. Swiftly Sirius got out of his bed, falling to his knees and casting a silent Lumos charm as he searched under the bed. Nothing was amiss.
Letting out a deep breath, Sirius sought to steady his racing heart. He had been so sure of what he'd seen, that momentary glimpse of a ghostly form, back to plague his troubled mind. In Azkaban he had show up nearly every night after that first terrifying year. It began with whispers, hurtful words that tore away his sanity piece by piece until they were all he had left. He almost welcomed them after a time, their pain became a constant in his bleak world, a reminder of who he really was. Traitor. Murderer. Black.
But after Azkaban, he was gone. Those long months spent in caves far from anywhere Sirius had ever called home, he had never visited. Not until that first night back in Grimmauld Place had Sirius seen the ghostly form return, fighting the ghostly form off as Sirius sought to reclaim his new life. But just like that night, Sirius knew there was nothing really there. Just a dream, as Remus had soothed him then, he knew his friend would tell him the same now.
It was stupid to think that Remus' presence kept his demons at bay, yet something about the other man comforted him and brought Sirius the peace he needed to recover and rebuild his life and psyche after Azkaban. He knew that in no way was it a mutual need, quite the opposite in face. Remus could have more of a life if he wasn't in hiding with Sirius, yet he hoped that somehow he brought his friend some of that same comfort and peace. They really were all they had left.
Sighing wearily, Sirius stood and walked down the hall and into Remus' room before he even knew where his feet were carrying him. His wand barely illuminated the dark space, but he heard a shuffle of blankets as Remus scooted over without a word. Sirius almost left then. The fact that his best friend knew he was so needy, so vulnerable that he couldn't even sleep alone was like an arrow through his courageous Gryffindor heart, yet still he could not will himself to walk away. Instead Sirius pulled the covers over himself as he lay flat on his back, staring now at a new yet similar ceiling. And his head was still filled with the exact same worries.
"You alright Padfoot?" Remus asked sleepily, the old abandoned nickname slipping out and causing a rush of warmth to Sirius' chest.
"Yeah, sorry I can leave if…" Sirius started but a heavy hand fell across his ribs as Remus pulled closer.
"No, it's okay. Stay," Remus murmured before drifting back off.
Sirius let his body sink into the soft mattress as the sound of Remus' even breathing told him how comfortable Remus had once again become in his presence. As he too fell to sleep, Sirius thought that just maybe Remus needed him half as much as he needed the other man.