After that night, Remus and I have been growing closer.
We sit side by side on our nightly talks now, instead of me in the armchair and him on the couch.
I hug him goodnight and bring him glasses of wine and order boxes of chocolate. He says I am making him fat.
Sometimes I even "forget" to turn into Padfoot when he reads, and put my head in his lap when I am still Sirius. He pets my head just the same, and I resist to urge to wag my rump.
I long for more.
When he is standing at his door wishing me goodnight, I want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him goodnight.
I want his room to become our room. I want to hold him when I sleep and kiss away his bad dreams. I want to kiss him passionately and make love at midnight.
Hell, I would even be happy with chaste on-the-cheek kisses. I haven't kissed anyone, or been kissed in years. No one has wanted to kiss me in years, except perhaps the dementors.
Remus leaves on another Order mission. I give him an extra long hug and tell myself that if he gets back alive I will tell him how I feel. He smiles sadly at me as he leaves.
The full moon passes and Remus is still gone.
Then the next Order meeting comes and Remus is there, looking worn and haggard with dark circles under his eyes. He is limping slightly and too skinny. I listen to Snape sneer about my comfy position at Grimmauld sitting on my bum all day and have never hated him more. I stand up ready to hex him into oblivion.
He doesn't understand that what I want most is to fight and fight and fight. I want to leap into action. I want to protect Remus and Harry. I want to murder Peter Pettigrew and that fucked up cousin of mine and could possibly murder Snape right now while I'm at it. I feel the same madness take over me when I discovered James and Lily died. I know the madness is hereditary. It is part of being a Black. Look at my bitch of a mother and my good-for-nothing brother. Look at this fucked up excuse for a home. Look at me.
But something makes me look at Remus and he shakes his head a millimeter. The angry knot in my stomach loosens and I am filled with sadness. I remember he used to do that at Hogwarts when he disapproved of a particularly nasty prank.
Out of habit, I almost turn to smirk at James. "Remus is getting in touch with his prefect side," I would say. And James would smile at Remus and say with exaggerated horror, "Well, I guess we better not do it. Can't get detention from the prefect." And despite our antics, we would stop whatever we were planning and begin to work on another prank that Remus did not find so unappealing.
My heart feels like it decided to carry the weight of a thousand stones. No James. No more James. I sit back down and Remus smiles at me. I smile back. The snide voice of Snape rings in my ears, but I keep my eyes on Remus. And he keeps his eyes on me.
Later that night, I help Remus change his bandages and rub potions into his wounds. I wince at his scar covered body and guiltily want to kiss it better. Instead, I smile at him and hand him a clean t-shirt.
He smiles and says, "Thank you," in his perfectly calm Moony voice. Typical self sacrificing Remus. I know it's the voice he adapts when he is in pain and doesn't want to show it.
"Are you ok?" I ask. "What happened?" I try not to sound so worried.
"I'm fine," he says, not quite meeting my eyes. "And I'm afraid it's mysterious Order business again. Dumbledore made me swear complete secrecy." Remus looks up at me and my eyes meet his. For some reason I cannot fathom, he looks afraid.
"Is it dangerous?" I ask. "Dumbledore shouldn't be putting you in danger. You don't owe anything to him."
Remus sighs. "I do owe something to him. He was the first wizard besides my parents who thought of me as human, who gave me my humanity. And even if I didn't owe anything to him, I owe something to the innocent people who will get murdered by followers of Voldemort. I want to make this word a better place."
I frown. "But Remus. You were always human. What do you mean Dumbledore gave you your humanity? And I don't want you to be one of the innocent people being murdered by Death Eaters."
He smiles at me but it is more of a grimace. "I can take care of myself, Sirius. But thank you for caring."
The fear in his eyes has diminished, but traces of it linger in the creases of his smile. And then I know.
Years ago, almost fifteen years ago, we had a similar conversation. Except when Remus told me he couldn't tell me what he was up to, I was angry. The Marauders had shared everything. There were no secrets. James and I made no secret of the raids on Death Eaters that we had accomplished, even bragging loudly about the one involving a high speed chase and the Muggle police. And all the while, Remus kept secrets from me. With Peter's help, the anger at being left out from Remus's life fermented into a sinking suspicion that Remus was the traitor. That stupid bloody mistake that resulted in James and Lily's deaths, Remus's isolation, Peter's escape, and me landing myself in a nice dark cell in Azkaban. The colossal mistake made by yours truly. I might as well have been helping the other side.
I frown. I hate the hurt I brought upon Remus. I hate the pain and mistrust that still affects our friendship today.
"Sirius?" asks Remus. "Are you all right?"
I look at him. I suddenly realize I have been silent for about a minute while I strangled the neck of the potion bottle in my right hand.
"Er. Yes," I say. "Just thinking about...things."
"Oh," replies Remus. "Things?"
"Peter," I reply. "And Lily and James."
"Oh," says Remus. "I was thinking of them too. I think of them a lot."
"I do too," I say. We sit in silence on Remus's bed. I'm still clutching the healing potion and the bandages as if they will fly away.
"You know, they never thought you were the traitor. It was just me. And that's because I was angry at you for keeping things from me, that you had every right to keep from me. Because I am a bloody idiotic git. I can never say sorry enough, and I don't expect you to forgive me when I can't even forgive myself, but I hope you know that I am really sorry?" I end in a question. I cringe inwardly. That rant made as much sense as a house elf on firewhisky.
"They never thought I was the traitor?" asks Remus in a hoarse voice. His normally bright brown eyes were clouded with sorrow.
"No, never. They said I was an idiot. Lily was especially vocal about it," I say. I watch his long dark eyelashes flutter, trying to hold back tears.
Remus was silent. "I'm so so sorry, Remus. It was all my bloody fault." My voice is ugly and pleading.
"Stop apologizing, Sirius. Just stop." His voice sounds tired and defeated.
I don't know what to do. I pretend to look in my pockets so I can give him a chance to wipe his eyes. (And a chance to wipe mine surreptitiously on my sleeves.) I find a bar of half melted chocolate.
"Chocolate, Remus?" I ask when I think he and I have sufficiently composed ourselves.
He gives me a small smile. "You really are daft." He uses his thumb to wipe away a tear that has clung to my eyelash. My skin tingles where he has touched it. "I could never stay mad at you for long." He takes the chocolate from my hands.
I hug him in what I hope is a brotherly fashion. Like how I would hug James. His hair feels so soft against my cheek and he feels so warm.
I feel so comfortable that I begin to tread on edges of his kindness. "I'd be as Padfoot, of course, but can I-?" I cut myself off as I pull away. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I had almost asked if I could stay. I stand up. Time to go.
"You can stay," Remus says. "If you want." I gape at him. How did he know?
He smiles at me, while shaking his head with a hint of disbelief, and I feel as though I have been filled with helium. I don't bother answering. I turn into Padfoot and wait at the end of his bed until he begins to fall asleep. I scoot up to Moony's head and breath in the smell of parchment and chocolate that is just Moony.
I don't ask him how long he is going to stay here, and I don't tell Remus how I feel. Next time, I promise myself as I start to fall asleep. Next time I will tell.