Spies
Theme #20 Crows

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The crows had been coming more and more every day. They collected in the dead trees around his house, on the roof, along the pathway, in the yard. They were everywhere. Murder upon murder of crows.

Remus didn't like the crows being near him. It was common knowledge among wizards what crows represented. Death. Destruction. Doom.

The crows watched him, cawing quietly in the early morning. Their beady little eyes, intelligent, watched him inquisitively, as if drinking in every one of his tiny movements. And he felt even less at ease.

From time to time, James would stop by his house on the way home from his job, beaming with joy—for Harry was born that summer—and try to shoo away the crows for him. The crows always seemed to swarm even more in size whenever James came by.

From time to time, Peter would stop by his house, too. He would stare at the crows fearfully, and Remus wondered if Peter mirrored Remus' own look when he saw the crows. The crows seemed to swarm even more around Peter than James.

And then, very rarely, for he was very often busy, Sirius would stop by and the crows would be a sea of black in the early morning sky. Remus would watch them, his eyes wide and fearful as they cawed and fluttered in the air, staring at Sirius with their highly intelligent eyes.

Remus would always be quick to bring Sirius inside.

"It's a shame they're resilient to magic," Sirius muttered regretfully, glancing outside of Remus' dirty window and watching the dead tree filled with crows. "Dreadful creatures, aren't they?"

"Yes," Remus agreed, staring at the creatures through his window. "They are a bad omen. And in these numbers… something terrible must be happening."

"Nonsense," Sirius reprimanded, always the first to dismiss Remus' pessimism. "It's just because you have a lot of garbage cans outside, Moony. They like that kind of stuff."

"Maybe," Remus muttered, feeling miserable. A crow squawked outside and he clenched his eyes shut.

---

After weeks of the crow's congregating on his property, and increasing in size whenever his friends came over, Remus grew to believe that something terrible was going to happen. Something that involved all four of them.

He was so fearful of what would happen. He locked himself in his house. He didn't answer the door. He didn't answer the fireplace when one of his friends called. He didn't answer the owls. And his repellent spell prevented his friends from just appearing in his living room.

The murder of crows only grew.

He stayed in his room, trying to work out some way to get the crows to go away, trying to work out how destruction, death, and doom was fast approaching him. It all lead to one thing, of course.

Sirius came by every day, and he would pound on the door. "Remus!" he would shout. "Answer the door!"

Remus knew he should answer the door, but he was too fearful. He decided to let Sirius believe that he was out of his house. Sirius would pound on the door, but he would eventually leave.

Just let him believe he was out doing something.

---

After a month of his seclusion, Sirius pounded on the door with such force, that Remus nearly dropped his tea cup as he walked off towards the fireplace.

"Remus!" he shouted. "Remus!"

The werewolf stared at his door, wondering if Sirius could bang it with enough force to knock it inwards and expose him to the dark-haired man's view. He gazed down at his teacup sourly, the pounding on the door causing it to ripple.

"Remus, please!" Sirius' voice was muffled through the door.

Remus took a hesitant step forward, staring at the door silently. Sirius' pounds silenced but he could hear the man panting.

"Where are you?" Sirius' voice muttered, and Remus knew he was speaking to himself. "Where did you go?"

A crow cawed outside and Sirius swore.

"It can't be," he muttered to himself. "I refuse to believe it. Remus wouldn't do that."

Do what?

He stared at the door, even long after Sirius had left.

---

A crow squawked for the third time in a row, and Remus wanted to strangle the birds. They were racking on his nerves, ever since they first appeared. And now he was lonely and isolated. There wasn't much around that could make him feel better.

He knelt in his garden, trying, fruitlessly, to get all the dead leaves from the soft ground. It was October, and he didn't want to leave the leaves until spring. They would kill the grass and plants that would sprout up.

He was so busy working, he forgot he was supposed to be isolated.

He heard footsteps behind him and he froze.

"Remus," Sirius said lightly.

The said man lifted his head, staring up at him in wonderment. Sirius looked stoic and indifferent, a startling contrast to his typically expressive face.

"Why are you here?"

"Where have you been?" Sirius asked instead of answering.

Remus stared at his hands mutely.

"Where have you been?" Sirius repeated. "Nobody's seen you for a month."

"I've been here." There was no point in lying.

"Here? In your house?"

"Yes."

"Then why the fuck haven't you answered your letters, or your door? Don't fucking lie to me, Remus."

Sirius looked desperate. He looked frightened. He looked angry.

Remus stared at him in shock. "I'm not lying. I've been here."

Sirius said nothing. He stared at Remus darkly, doubt dancing in his eyes.

Another crow squawked and Remus whipped around, looking like he wanted to kill something. He leaned over and picked up a moderately sized rock and hurled it with all his might.

"Shut the hell up, you stupid birds!" he yelled at the creatures as they hopped away from the rock, completely unconcerned about the wizard's anger.

A crow squawked.

Remus leaned over to grab another rock but Sirius grabbed his hand instead and dragged him upwards.

Sirius looked at him, concern written in his eyes. He could never be completely indifferent for long. Remus turned his face away, refusing to look at the intense slate-colored gaze. He bit his lip. He hated seeing that pain in Sirius' face when, moments before, there had been nothing.

Another crow cawed. Remus glared at them and refused to look at Sirius.

"Remus," Sirius murmured and his voice was soft.

The said werewolf gave his friend a weary look before quickly looking away. Golden eyes focused on the steadily tightening grip on his wrists. He clenched his own fists and tried to pull away from the black-haired boy, but Sirius refused to budge.

"Why are you here?" Remus sighed lightly, looking defeated.

Sirius frowned. "Do you not want me here?"

"No," Remus confessed and his face turns an unattractive shade of pink. "Not if… not if you're going to leave me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Remus lied, because he hated to face the truth. The crows fluttered in the trees.

"Who says I'm leaving?" Sirius continued, as if Remus hadn't spoken.

Remus still won't look at him.

"Answer me," Sirius commanded, sounding incredibly frustrated. "Don't you fucking ignore me, Remus."

Remus stared at him guiltily, because he'd been doing just that for the past month. He'd been running away and ignoring those around him. But the crows swarmed around Sirius, and were blocking out the sun. He was scared about what was fast approaching in the future.

"I'm sorry," Remus muttered and bowed his head.

"Stop it. What the hell is wrong with you?" Sirius demanded, shaking Remus for good measure.

"The crows…" Remus said miserably.

"They're just birds, Moony," Sirius said stubbornly, looking frustrated.

"No!" Remus protested. "They're not just birds, Sirius. Every wizard knows what they represent! Death, destruction, doom! And they're flocking around us."

"You're being silly," Sirius said, though with less conviction. He eyed a bird that fluttered too close.

"I'm not," Remus snapped. "Something is going to happen. And it's bad."

Sirius watched him for a long moment, uncharacteristically masked and calculating. He looked at Remus for a very long time before he shook his head, trying to will away what he was thinking. Remus recognized the look. Sirius doubted him. Sirius suspected him.

He bowed his head and grabbed the worn leather of Sirius' jacket. "Please, believe me."

Sirius' eyes softened, for he so greatly wanted to believe him. He took him into his arms. He hugged him tightly, and Remus clutched onto him, trying to ignore the crescendo of crow calls. He held Sirius tight, afraid to let go.

"I want to believe you," Sirius said honestly. He smiled sadly, and it broke Remus' heart. Remus' hold tightened.

"I know," Remus whispered. He knew it was hard for him. He knew it was impossible. He knew, in this time of war and fear, that Sirius was trying his hardest. But he had put doubt in Sirius' heart, and once there, it was incredibly difficult to remove it.

Sirius held him tighter, as if apologizing. Remus accepted it, for it was the best either of them could do. Remus, in turn, had to forgive Sirius and try to believe him, too.

But doubt was such a powerful thing.

A nightingale sang, mournfully, its small voice overpowering the cawing of the crows.