Save It For A Rainy Day

Written for The Houses Competition

Hufflepuff, HoH

Drabble

Prompt: [Emotion] Hopeful

WC: 921 per Google Docs

AN: Hang around for the hopeful part—good things come to those who wait (and read to the very end)! Somewhat based on the song "Save It For A Rainy Day" by the Jayhawks. If you haven't heard it, I'd highly suggest giving it a quick listen. Their whole "Rainy Day Music" album is great, but this one is my favorite!

MC4A Challenge Block

Stacked With: The Houses Competition; MC4A; Spring Bingo

IC: Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; Click Bait It; Seeds; In a Flash; Bow Before the Blacks; Summer Vacation; Gryffindor MC x2

Representation: THC; THC; Bad Puns; New Plans; Barely Made WC!; Sirius Black; Brighton Beach; Sirius\Remus Bromance; Cabin Fever; Depression

BC: YR (N); YRR (N); CBI (); S (); IAF(Y); 3B (N); SV (Y); GMC (N)

TBC: T3 (Thimble; Tether; Terse; Terrarium) [In which Remus simultaneously watches Sirius' butt and removes Mr. Black's head from it.]

Space Address (Prompt): 3C (Eggs)

WC: 921

"Padfoot!" Remus shouted from the other side of the door. "It's nearly ten. Are you just going to sleep the day away again?"

"Shove off, Moony, I'm up!" he growled.

Out of spite, Sirius waited to hear Remus's footsteps fade away before he slipped out of bed and plodded to his bathroom. He dragged himself through some abbreviated morning ablutions, carefully avoiding the mirror. What did it matter if he brushed his hair or flossed? Remus, his "handler," was the only one in the house today, and he'd seen Sirius in worse states.

Sirius spat his toothpaste in the sink and then made the mistake of looking up. He gripped the porcelain sink to steady his hands. It was impossible to believe the man in the mirror was really him.

He'd turned thirty-five a few weeks ago, but the face looking back at him could easily have been 50. He ran a hand through his now shaggy hair, shot through with gray, and sighed. Before his twelve years in Azkaban, he'd been a handsome man, with proud features, a glossy dark ponytail, and a smug, confident demeanor. These days he just looked haggard, gaunt… unrecognizable.

Resisting the urge to put his fist through the mirror, Sirius shoved off the sink and ducked out of the bathroom. He shrugged into some clothes he thought were clean and trudged down to the kitchen.

"Do you want your eggs scrambled or scrambled?" Remus joked, stirring the frying pan.

"Just coffee," Sirius mumbled.

Sensing his best friend's terrible mood, Remus bit back his thoughts on the man's nutrition—or lack thereof. Some fights just weren't worth it.

Breakfast was a silent affair. Sirius spent most of it staring out the grimy window at the early morning sun,sighing.

Finally, Remus could stand it no more. "What's up with you, Sirius? I've seen you brooding, and I've seen angry, but this… sleeping all day, not taking care of yourself. Have you even showered this week?...

"I'm fine," Sirius hissed.

"Like hell," Remus retorted. "You weren't even this bad when you first got back to Britain. What gives?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope."

Sirius sighed. "I just… Look at me, Moony. If you didn't know me, how old would you think I am?"

"Why does that matter?" Remus asked.

"It matters because I feel at least a hundred," Sirius explained, slamming his red mug on the table. "I lost so much more than twelve years in that hellhole, and when I got out I just traded one prison for another. If I survive this war, and that's a big if, what witch in her right mind is going to want me? I'll never be able to get married, start a family, grow old with someone. I'm already ancient, and I lost the years of my life. I have no purpose anymore. I don't know where to go from here." He quickly looked back out the window, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

Remus studied him for a moment before levitating their dishes to the sink and charming them to wash.

"Get a shower and dress. Meet me down here in half an hour. And no buts," he said when Sirius started to protest.

"I still think I need a Glamour Charm," Sirius huffed.

"Brighton is a Muggle seaside town. I thought Sirius Black could use a day in the sun," Remus explained. Sirius couldn't argue.

It was too cold to enjoy the water, so the pair settled on a wooden bench and watched the waves slap against the sand.

"I never planned on becoming a werewolf, you know," Remus murmured.

"I figured," Sirius replied.

"I've spent my whole life not fitting into any of life's pre-set plans. I knew I would never hold a steady job, get married, have kids, live easily. I planned for that. When I was lucky enough to have a little saved and a place to stay, I was happy with it."

"But now Tonks is barking up your tree! You're gonna have all of that!"

"And do you think any of that is easy for me?" Remus grumbled. "I had all these expectations for my life, and she wants me to shoot them all to hell. And I don't know that I can throw them all out the window just for her to toss me into the gutter later. I'm terrified to gain it all and then lose it all."

"She wouldn't do that!"

"Maybe. But I still have a date with her on Saturday."

Sirius punched his arm. "Atta boy, Moons!"

"My point," Remus said, rubbing his arm, "is that life never goes according to plan. And when it doesn't, there's always another part to play. You're so caught up in what you've lost that you can't see what you might have gained."

Sirius sat back against the bench. Maybe he'd never have a wife and kids. But then he'd never thought he'd be a particularly good father—his own had been atrocious. His fortune was still intact, so he didn't really need to work to be able to give back to the world. He had his godson, his best friend, and some semblance of freedom. All in all, that didn't seem like such a bad lot in life. He'd probably need to really mourn his "lost life" later, but not while he had a sea breeze in his hair and the sun on his face. No, he'd save those thoughts for a rainy day.