AN: Inspired by a story request from tigergirl-moonstar. Please note that I have taken some personal liberties with the storyline and certain characters. For example, Tonks is born in 1962 instead of 1973.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by JK Rowling except any OCs.
Warnings: Slash, torture, angst, abuse, abduction, sexual themes
Chapter 11
The Shop
"Reeemuuuuus." The word was a long, drawn-out complaint, bringing every aggravation to the front of Remus' mind.
"Yes, Sirius?" He stood up from where he was looking at cereals to see Sirius leaning precariously against the trolley and looking thoroughly bored.
"Why are we wasting so much time here?" Remus sighed, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.
"Well, we need food for the flat, and this is where we get it."
"Honestly, though, it takes so long." Sirius stood up a bit and, after a furtive glance to ensure they were alone in the aisle, said quite low "wouldn't it be easier to just pay for a house elf to deliver it from one of those mail order places?" Try as he might, there was no stopping the laughter that bubbled up within Remus. Sirius, for his part, seemed genuinely confused. "What did I say?"
"Sirius, surely you know that normal people shop for themselves? It just seems a waste of money to pay so much for someone else to do it for you!"
"Surely it's not," Sirius protested. "I mean, you don't own the house elf; you're only borrowing them." Remus shook his head.
"When you get a job, you will learn the value of money."
"Oh, Remus," Sirius grinned, "I'm a Black. If there's anybody who knows the value of money, it's me." Again, Remus shook his head.
"No, you know the value of having a lot of money. Soon, you'll learn the value of having only a little."
After another half an hour of shopping, Remus was finally satisfied with their haul and they were heading toward the cashier.
"What you need to do, now," Remus explained, though Sirius looked as far from interested as one could possibly be. "Is put the groceries from the trolley onto the table." The table was the kind with the conveyer belt on it, which brought the groceries to the cashier in an orderly fashion, Sirius hadn't been interested before, but once the black belt started pulling the goods forward, he became intrigued.
"How does it do that?" Sirius was now excitedly pulling boxes and cans from the trolley and throwing them onto the belt as quickly as possible, the poor cashier having to scan twice as fast as he must surely do normally in order to keep up with the demand
"Electricity, a motor, and some rubber," Remus answered simply.
"Wow, these muggles just think of everything." Soon enough, it was time to pay, the true challenge of today's adventures. Sirius had stated he wanted to learn more about muggle life, particularly anything that would help him get a job in the muggle world, where he would be able to avoid Death Eaters. As such, he had to learn how to count money and interact with muggles without looking like an over-excited tourist.
Sirius was painfully slow at counting out the money, but he only needed Remus' help once and had managed to count out the right amount on the first try.
"That's really good," Remus said proudly as they exited with the paper bags. "Next time, I'm not going to help you at all, though." Sirius grinned smugly, though Remus was sure he was still nervous.
"That's fine, really, I've basically learned all there is to know about muggle money."
"Really? What's two quid?"
"Err…"
"That's what I thought!" Remus laughed out loud, delighting in Sirius' confusion. "Don't worry about it, you'll get there. For now, let's just get these home so I can cook something."
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"So," Sirius began after swallowing a bite of pasta Remus had made, "you go back to the office tomorrow." Remus nodded, though clearly wasn't pleased. Sirius knew he didn't want to do paperwork, but actually be 'in the field', as he put it. Sirius realised he wasn't entirely certain what Remus' job entailed. "Once you've been cleared for your regular duties, what will your days be like?"
"Well, most of the time it's still paperwork. It's just that the paperwork is about my findings. There's several packs of werewolves all around Great Britain. It's my job to meet with them and attempt to bridge the distance between them and the Ministry." Remus took another bite of his pasta, licking at the creamy white sauce that ended up on the corner of his mouth. Sirius had to talk himself down so as not to jump Remus right then and there, he found the deft lick of the tongue so enticing. "Also," Remus continued, "I'm looking for a certain werewolf, Fenrir Greyback. He's wanted by the Ministry, but is very influential among the outcast werewolves. Whatever he wants, they will go with. And…" Remus paused a moment, his mind elsewhere. "Fenrir Greyback is also the wolf who turned me." This shocked Sirius that Remus would actively pursue the man who'd afflicted him,
"Do you want to confront him?" Sirius wondered if this was an act of revenge or something else.
"I'm not sure, really. Part of me does, just to see what he's like because of how the werewolves speak of him. Another part of me wants to bring him down for the Ministry - he's a terrible man, by all counts, but he does speak out against the disparaging treatment of werewolves. A bigger part of me is frightened. He attacked me as a means of revenge against my father. I'm not sure if he'd kill me to finish the job or look at me as a lost son. Both outcomes are unpleasant."
"Do you enjoy being an auror?" Sirius was ready to get off the topic of Fenrir Greyback, but still wanted to know more about Remus' work. Remus returned his question with a smile.
"Very much. It can be tedious at times, but I'm so grateful to have this position, and I really feel like my work may pave the way for greater acceptance of werewolves in the future."
"A world where everyone could feel welcome would be great," Sirius agreed.
As they finished their supper Remus complained a bit about having to do paperwork all day tomorrow and cleared away the dishes from the coffee table with a spell Sirius hadn't been very familiar with. Having grown up so well off, they'd had house elves to do all the housekeeping tasks.
"Now it is time for your next lesson about muggle society!" Sirius wasn't expecting another one so soon, and it had also grown dark outside. What did Remus have in mind?
"Err, ok? What did you have in mind?"
"We are going to the cinema."
"The what?"
"You'll see!" Remus disappeared into the bedroom and emerged again holding a jumper. "It's quite a bit colder now," he began by way of explanation. "Earlier you were wearing you cloak, but muggles don't really wear those, so you stood out a little. If you want to be able to know muggles well enough to blend in you should start dressing the part." Sirius shrugged and pulled on the knit garment, which was just about the right size for him, so must have been slightly too big on Remus.
"A jumper is fine and all, but what do they do about the real cold?"
"They wear coats like this one." Remus was already pulling on what must have been a coat. It wasn't that dissimilar to a cloak, but had sleeves like a shirt and was much shorter. It also fastened in the front with a zip. The coat was quite tight on Remus and made of worn, dark brown leather. Sirius found he quite liked the appearance.
"That looks quite nice on you. I'll have to get one, myself." Remus went up to him, leaned against him and wrapped him in his arms.
"Yes I think you're right." His lips brushed Sirius' softly. "Now, then, off to the cinema."
Remus insisted that they walk to the main road and hail a taxi, like a common muggle might, then have the coach drive them to their destination. Sirius found the drive quite dull and slow. At first, he'd been reminded of the Knight Bus, but shortly after clambering into the small vehicle he learned otherwise.
Once they'd reached their destination, Sirius was again expected to count out the money for the drive. It still took him a while, but he felt like he was getting the hang of it. Certainly, it wasn't nearly as intimidating as he'd first thought. Afterwards, they walked up to a booth just inside the doors of the establishment. All around Sirius were muggles milling about, and the smell of buttery food pervaded the air. Remus was talking to the man in the booth, ordering two of something Sirius wasn't sure of.
"There's a lot of muggles here," Sirius whispered to Remus as they moved away from the man in the booth and toward a line of cashiers. Behind the cashiers there was a lit display showing pictures of beverages and food.
"Just call them people out in public, Sirius. And, yes, there's usually a lot of people at the cinema. Would you like some popcorn?"
"Muggles have popcorn? Er, sorry, I meant people." Remus couldn't help the snort of laughter that came up.
"Yes of course they do!"
"But how do they make it?" Remus pointed to a machine behind the cashier that was filled with popcorn that was currently erupting from a metal pot-shaped item suspended in the middle.
"They use machines. They're quite ingenious, really."
"These people think of everything." Soon enough the wizards had a large cola and popcorn to share and were making their way into a dark room filled with rows of plush red folding seats. Sirius could not figure out for the life of him why so many people would want to sit in the same room, not even facing each other, but toward what appeared to Sirius to be plain white fabric against a wall.
"Sirius," Remus whispered as they made their way to seats in the back of the room. "I want you to remember that what we're going to see is not magical. No matter what is happening on the screen any amount of shouting, talking, pleading, or anything of the sort will have no effect on who you see." Sirius gave a confused look in return.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"You'll see," Remus whispered enigmatically.
Sure enough, Sirius did see rather quickly, but not before shouting at the screen a couple of times, much to Remus' chagrin and the annoyance of fellow patrons. It was like nothing Sirius had ever seen. After several advertisements in the beginning, something called a 'film' began. It was a moving picture that told a story. The characters and the locations changed throughout, there was music and background sound, and, after the film, Remus explained to him that it was replayed over and over without a single change. Sirius couldn't understand why the subjects of the film would want to act in the same way repeatedly for eternity - the portraits in his mother's home and in Hogwarts would certainly have refused such action - but Remus stated that none of the people in the film were sentient.
The concept of films was very difficult for Sirius to grasp. He just didn't understand how they could be created or why someone would even want the film to be the same time after time. However, he also found it highly entertaining and agreed with Remus that they would just have to come back repeatedly until he understood the concept.
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Paperwork was the bane of Remus' existence. Every time he finished a stack of papers he looked up, hopeful that the pile of papers that required sign off from a Ministry official would diminish, only to be let down time after time. Most of the paperwork was complaints filed by citizens, much of which had been filed to the wrong department. It was Remus' privilege to read through every paper, signing the ones require signatures, re-routing the ones that needed to go elsewhere, and carefully filing away those that required further investigation.
With a sigh, he sent a complaint to the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. The wizard had purchased a charmed object from his neighbor which, instead of providing protection, had turned his skin green. The man seemed to think this gentleman was a dark wizard, but, in truth, was probably just playing a prank on his neighbor.
Remus' mind began to drift toward thoughts of other dark wizards - true dark wizards, like Bellatrix Lestrange. Even though he was only thinking about her, Remus could still feel his pulse quicken and the first tendrils of fear curled in the back of his mind. Why, Remus questioned himself. Why am I so afraid? I'm an auror for bloody sake! It didn't take long for him to come to a conclusion.
Voldemort may be the most powerful dark wizard, working his way up to take over the ministry, but Bellatrix represented something even more frightening. Bellatrix represented the witches and wizards who were devoted to him completely, who would stop at nothing to help him achieve their goal, and who had lost their humanity and their sense of compassion for all. She had captured and tortured Remus and must have countless others as well. And she enjoyed it. Remus remembered how she'd seemed so delighted upon capturing him, how she'd crucio'd him mercilessly in the basement. Though she must have been a normal person at some point, her devotion had twisted her, could twist others the same way.
With a start, Remus came to, realizing that his knuckles had gone white, his hands having been clenched as he was lost in his own thoughts. After letting them relax, he found small crescent-shaped cuts in his hands from his nails. Maybe Kingsley was right and Remus was more afflicted than he realised? Then again, he'd been fine around Sirius while he wasn't working, except for when they'd run into the Death Eaters. Remus felt that shouldn't count, though. Maybe it was because he had no distraction that he found himself lured into those dark thoughts?
Bellatrix's mocking, sing-song voice entered his head again, and he had to shake his head to clear it. As an auror, Reus was angry with himself. He couldn't let this get to him the way it was, and he certainly couldn't afford to pass out the next time he faced off with Death Eaters. Determined to overcome this, he vowed to himself that he would do anything he could to get around his fears.
"Remus, are you alright?" Kingsley was standing just outside the office, taking in the sight of Remus, his hands again clenched and his gaze unfocused.
"Yes, of course." The other wizard didn't look convinced, but nodded anyway
"I know it's your first day back, but I'd like to talk to you about the next full moon."
"Certainly," Remus replied as we waived his friend and superior into the room, the door shut behind him with a soft click.
"While I think it is in your best interest to remain in the office for some time, we have had reports of some muggles going missing to the west. We believe it to be the work of Greyback's pack if not himself." This was strange news. Typically Greyback kept to the north.
"Do we know why he's chose to travel west?"
"No. We fear he is either trying to rally the werewolf packs and act as their leader." This was a great concern of Remus'.
Fenrir Greyback was vicious and held deep-seated grudges against the Ministry and most of the wizarding world. It was the same grudges that Remus heard echoed across all werewolves: the Ministry doesn't want to grant us rights, the people fear and loathe us, we can't get jobs, we can't live happy lives. Some werewolves, like Remus, managed to find places among society - jobs, homes, loved ones. The majority, however, lived in poverty either moving from one job to the next very quickly (often terminated when their condition became clear), or taking odd jobs that were never steady. Often, they lived near each other, in the poorer neighborhoods of villages and went out with each other at the full moon into the woods as packs, attempting to occupy their wolf minds and avoid the towns while not barricading themselves in their own homes. All people resented being caged. Werewolves were no different in that. While the Ministry was never able to catch Greyback - he was very resourceful - all sightings of him had been in the northern parts of the country for years. Remus had to agree that he would only change location with a purpose in mind.
"He could be very influential." Remus said after a moment.
"That's why I'm talking to you now. I'd like to give you more time to recover, but with this news it's just not possible. We're going to need you out in the field before the full moon to see if you can pick anything up on the situation. If it's as we fear, we'll need to take some countermeasures. We also need you to try to learn more about Greyback's endgame." Remus shook his head.
"Greyback's no friend of the Ministry. If you want my guess, he's going to try to align the werewolves with You-Know-Who." Kingsley's mouth was a thin, firm line set above his chin. Surely he must have known?
"Do they really think that the man who is set to establish pure-blood wizard supremacy over all others will do anything other than treat them as second-rate citizens?"
"I believe Greyback hates the Ministry so much, he'd do just about anything to bring it down."
"All the more reason for us to press on swiftly. I need you, though, Remus. I need you focused and alert. We'll want to make sure that Greyback doesn't learn of your whereabouts while you're investigating. Now that he's not sequestered to the north it will be more difficult to keep an eye on him. He's dangerous." Remus snorted.
"I don't need you to tell me that." His handed drifted automatically to his left shoulder, to the token left from Greyback's attack. Kingsley chose to ignore the comment and began again.
"I want you to go to see a counsellor. Before I can clear you for work in the field, we need to make sure that you're well enough to not be a danger to yourself or others." Remus sputtered. Counselling?
"I'm not crazy!"
"I didn't say you were."
"I don't need counselling."
"Remus there is nothing wrong with counselling. Plenty of people speak with the counsellors after traumatic events like yours."
"Oh, really then. How many of them are aurors?"
"Remus, you know I can't tell you that."
"That's because no self-respecting auror is going to bloody well go to counselling just because of a little brush with some Death Eaters!" Kingsley shook his head sadly,
"Yours wasn't a 'little brush', Remus. They had you for three days. You were tortured."
"I'm fine." Kingsley sighed and pulled out an envelope from the inner pocket of his robe.
"Have them sign this saying you're ready for field work and everything will be fine. Until then, you're confined to the office." He dropped the envelope on Remus' desk and turned to leave, ending the conversation.
Grudgingly, Remus reached for the envelope and stuffed it into his own robe pocket. A small voice in the back of his head said maybe this would be good for him; a louder, more prideful voice sneered at the idea, concerned about what this would do to his appearance at work. Already he'd had difficulty obtaining the position due to his condition. Would needing to attend counselling make him seem weak, emotionally incapable of his duties? Remus grit his teeth. He'd just have to make sure the counsellor knew he was fine and work through any problems on his own.
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Sirius couldn't help but feel a little nervous. For the first time, he was out in the muggle world, making a purchase, without Remus by his side. After the film the night before, he and Remus had spoken at length about muggle clothes: where to buy them, what was appropriate to wear and when, how much they should cost, what colors were acceptable. Honestly, for living so close with one another, one would think the clothing would be similar, but muggles seemed to deem the long, sweeping robes and cloaks as peculiar, opting instead for shorter tops that didn't extend past the hips, trousers, denim jeans, vests, and jumpers - the only thing resembling a cloak or a robe to be worn in public was jackets and coats. While most wizards did choose to wear trousers, it was not uncommon, especially in higher society, to wear the more traditional, floor length robes. Dumbledore was especially well-known for his traditional wardrobe. It was never, ever socially acceptable for a muggle man to not wear trousers, or similar alternative, unless he was Scottish and wearing a kilt.
While Sirius had just recently gone shopping in Diagon Alley, he hadn't purchased much, and his wizard robes and cloaks certainly wouldn't pass among the muggles. Additionally, they decided that if he was going to try to get a job in such a social place as a bar, he'd have to look at least somewhat in fashion. Sirius hoped that didn't mean he'd have to wear the same shorts the bartender had worn at the Green Carnation. Remus assured him it didn't, but what if Remus was more out of touch with muggle fashion than he realised? Either way, Remus deemed Sirius capable of selecting his own clothes and tasked him with shopping on his own for two muggle outfits that would pass for normal.
The bell on the door chimed as Sirius stepped over the threshold of the muggle establishment, wearing his existing trousers and shirt and a borrowed jacket. There were racks of clothes on either side of him and he felt overwhelmed already. It was only shopping, Sirius reasoned with himself. He could handle this small task.
An hour later and Sirius found himself looking at his reflection in the mirror outside of the cramped dressing room, a crumpled pile of clothes in the corner. This outfit was a pair of flared jeans and a bright, salmon-colored, button front shirt. He hated it.
"That doesn't look to be your style." Sirius turned toward the voice to find a curvaceous brunette staring at him, an amused smile on her red lips. Her hair was teased out, a bit of a wreck really, and she wore a short skirt over dark stockinged legs with rips in them. A long, unbuttoned coat and low-cut, black shirt completed her ensemble. Sirius was certain this woman was a muggle. He felt a bit nervous, like this person would know that he didn't belong here, that he was a wizard. That was absurd, however. Hardly any muggles knew about the existence of magic.
"Yeah," Sirius answered. "I think you're right about that."
"Do you need a hand? I could take you down the ways a bit. There's another store that might have what you're looking for." Sirius wondered if the offer to help was peculiar behavior for a muggle. Regardless, he didn't want to put too much thought into it - after an hour of trying on garments he was growing tired of his lack of success.
"I'd appreciate it. Let me have a moment, I'll change and we can go." The brunette practically beamed. Sirius changed out of the store's clothes and into his own and looked at the pile of rejects in the corner. It felt wrong just to leave them there like that. Sirius glanced around furtively, making sure he wouldn't be seen, then pulled out his wand and whispered a quick spell to fold the clothes and stack them neatly in the chair. He felt a little better about that.
The brunette was still outside of the dressing area, still smiling. Was this really normal muggle behavior?
"'Bout time then. Come on, the shop's just down at the end of the street." They were out the door without a second glance. "So, then, my name is Jessica." The muggle looked back at him awaiting his answer as they walked down the lane.
"Sirius." The girl gave him an odd look before sighing.
"Yeah, I know, it's a bit common really."
"Sirius?" He'd always thought he'd had a rather unique name, himself. At least, he'd never met someone who shared his name.
"What? Surely you've heard the name Jessica? It's real common." Sirius had to laugh at that. The poor girl thought he was responding to her name.
"No, my name is Sirius - like the star!"
"Oh! Now that is a brilliant name!" They stopped in front of another shop and stepped in. Immediately, Sirius was shocked at the difference. Denim, black, and leather were on nearly every rack, nestled among plaid, white, and other colors, and there was a section of the store that seemed reserved for selling vinyls. "I think you'll find what you're looking for in here." Sirius could only nod in agreement.
A short while later, Jessica had helped Sirius pick out a leather jacket, some overly-tight faded jeans, a white button-front shirt ("don't bother buttoning the top four"), and an extremely tight, short shirt (which Jessica called a t-shirt), that ended just Sirius' hip bones, leaving his midriff partially exposed if he even lifted his arms a little. Overall, he thought the clothes looked nice and Jessica was emphatic that they looked great.
Sirius was still grasping muggle money, though he felt confident that he could count the money out, he wasn't sure what the conversion to knuts, sickles, and galleons would be. Despite this, Sirius knew that the leather jacket was going to put a large dent in his gold, and he hoped Remus had given him enough muggle money (he'd pay him back in gold later) and that he'd be able to get a job soon so he didn't feel so dependant on him.
Tentatively, Sirius made his way to the front where a bored-looking muggle was reading a magazine. The muggle looked up, disinterested in Sirius, but when his eyes passed over Jessica he put the magazine down and was all smiles.
"Oi, Jess, didn't see you come in." The brunette rolled her eyes.
"That's because you don't pay attention, Lucas." The young man shrugged, not denying the accusations.
"Who's your friend here?" Lucas jutted his chin towards Sirius. As a Black, Sirius was beginning to take offense to being spoken about as though he wasn't in the room.
"My name is Sirius Black." He put the clothes on the counter and held out his hand for a shake. The muggle looked at him for a moment before accepting the handshake, making Sirius wonder if he was being too formal again, or if muggles simply didn't shake hands very often.
"Nice to meet you, Sirius Black. I'm Lucas. I see you're friends with Jess, here?"
"Oh, we've only just met," Jess announced. "He needed some help shopping and I was bored." Lucas' eyes shone a bit at that.
"I see, so you two aren't, err…" So that was it. Sirius should have known sooner that Lucas must have a thing for Jessica. He supposed if he liked women he'd be interested in her as well.
"No, Lucas, we're not. It'd take someone pretty special to lock me down." Sirius thought Jessica may have been trying to catch his eye as she said that, but he pointedly ignored it and instead reached into his pocket for the muggle bills, hoping he had enough.
Jessica and Lucas continued to speak back and forth while the clothes were rung up. They were engrossed enough in their conversation that they didn't notice that it took Sirius slightly longer than the average person to make sure he had the right amount (thankfully he had enough plus a little extra) and received the correct change in return. Finally, they were leaving the shop, Lucas promising to stop by Jessica's bar later.
"You own a bar?" Sirius asked, curious.
"No," Jessica snorted. "I work at a bar. In fact," she looked at the watch on her wrist, "I need to head that way soon. I have a shift tonight. You could drop by sometime if you like. It's the Rickety Stool. Here -" She grabbed Sirius' hand and pulled one of the featherless quills from a pocket in her coat and wrote an address on Sirius' hand. "In case you decide to stop by." With that, she turned and walked in the opposite direction, leaving Sirius confused.