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FIC: Purus Coranis (Harry Potter, Sirius/Remus, PG-13)
This fic is unfinished and I currently have no plans to finish it.
Remus scanned the bleak landscape before him with eager eyes. Nothing. Not a hut, not a cave, not even a tunnel. Nothing that could hide a grown wizard, or shelter him from the bitter weather that lashed the moor. With a sigh, he put away his scrying crystal. The location spell had led him this far, to a barren moor where he was currently staying in a wizard’s retreat at ten Galleons a night, but it would not lead him any closer. And yet, it was the only one to give him even a clue as to the whereabouts of his friend. The more common spells had been blocked, and no wonder. With a manhunt to deal with, Sirius would naturally have taken every precaution. But one spell had been unhindered. It was a somewhat obscure incantation known as ‘Purus Coranis’, which would only show the location of the person sought if the caster’s intentions were pure. Remus smiled to himself. Perhaps there was a reason why the spell had not been more precise. Although his thoughts of Sirius were friendly, he couldn’t exactly call them pure.
Remus had liked and admired Sirius ever since they had first met. He had been drawn to his recklessness, his daring, his sharp wit, keen intelligence and lazy charm. A quiet, somewhat reserved youth, he had found his friend’s devil-may-care attitude an irresistible breath of fresh air. The two became firm friends in no time, and grew closer as the years passed. They took delight in researching obscure spells, bending school rules and teasing their other best friend, James Potter, about his growing crush on Lily, a pretty Griffindor girl from a Muggle family. However, as they grew older, Remus found his admiration for Sirius taking on a new, more uncomfortable form. He frequently caught himself watching him instead of paying attention in class, or admiring his friend’s physique when they changed robes. And sometimes, when Sirius smiled at him, his heart would leap, and his stomach would turn over, and it was all he could do to smile briefly back and then look away, before he did something that would embarrass them both. Although he did not count these feelings as wrong, Remus was nonetheless alarmed by them. His rakish friend had his share of female admirers, and Remus had no desire to be teased for his crush the way the pair of them had often teased James. This meant that he lacked a confidant, as Peter Pettigrew was hardly the type that one could make that kind of confession to. So he kept himself to himself. The only person who did suspect was Severus Snape. Odd how a person’s worst enemies often knew him better than his friends. Severus’ jibes stung, but they were always made in private, and so did less damage than they could have done. After the incident with the Whumping Willow, Severus refrained from speaking to their group altogether, which was one small burden lifted. And so, life went on. Then, shortly after they had left school, the Dark times came. Nobody knew who to trust anymore. The friends dared not speak to each other, for fear that one of them had turned. And yet, Remus never expected what had happened next.
The day of the Potter’s murder was still clearly emblazoned on his mind. James’ death had been an awful blow; the world had lost a brave man, and Remus had lost one of his closest friends. But Sirius’ arrest hit him harder. Although they had not spoken in nearly a year, and then only briefly, Remus still remembered the Sirius he had known at Hogwarts - dashing and brilliant, all dark hair and bright smiles. That Sirius could turn traitor seemed ludicrous - impossible even. And yet, it had happened. Remus had never cried the way he did that night. Silent tears that left him blind and deaf to the world; screams that wracked his body and left him shaking in sorrow and anger. Yes, he was angry all right - furious even. How could Sirius do it? How could he? With one action he had robbed Remus of his two best friends, and more - he had also stolen his childhood’s hero, the fantasy of his teenage years, love’s young dream. For Sirius to cease to be himself - that was almost as terrible a betrayal as handing James over to Voldemort. Remus couldn’t bear to attend the trial; couldn’t force himself to look upon that face again, and see a stranger there. Even worse - what if Sirius hadn’t changed? What if Remus’ charming friend could do such a thing, and still be himself? That was too horrible even to think about.
When the news came out that Sirius had escaped Azkaban, Remus was shaken. He tried to fortify himself against thoughts of his former friend, with moderate success. But still, in spite of everything, he couldn’t bring himself to give the information that might help them to capture Sirius. Dumbledore’s trust in him was only half the story; no matter what he had done, Remus couldn’t betray Sirius into the hands of the Dementors. And looking back, he was glad he had not done so. Seeing Sirius alive, knowing him innocent, was the best feeling in the world. And looking into his eyes, all the old longings had come rushing back.
The next few hours had passed in a blur. All he remembered clearly were his emotions as he heard what had happened: terror at the thought of Harry or Sirius being hunted by the Dementors; anger at Snape and Pettigrew for stealing his friend’s chance of proving his innocence; and sheer, numbing, soul-shattering relief when he learned that the convict had escaped. At that moment, he decided to follow Sirius and help him however he could - Snape’s spiteful revelations the next morning had merely strengthened his resolve. And so he gathered his materials, and set off on the trail of his elusive friend.
When even the most sophisticated spells failed, he had begun to lose hope. But then he remembered the spell he and Sirius had found, years and years ago, whilst looking for new and innovative ways to cheat at Hide-and-Seek. Sirius had turned to him, and said, ‘If we ever want to find each other, we should use this. We must promise each other we’ll never block it, and that will show we trust each other. I can always find you, and you can always find me. That is,’ he grinned roguishly, ‘if your heart is pure enough.’ Remus doubted that Sirius remembered this vow; he was an impulsive youth, and routinely extracted oaths of eternal friendship from all three of them. Remus frowned involuntarily; he didn’t want to think of Peter now. It could easily have been co-incidence that this one spell wasn’t blocked; after all, it wasn’t well known, and very few people would think to use it. Still, he had to wonder....
Remus’ train of thought was interrupted by room service - a tray floated into the room with and order form and a quill on it. He settled for Self-Heating Coffee, as it would probably go cold at least three times before he had a chance to drink it. Leaving a generous tip on the tray, he went back to work. The tray floated out again through the service hatch, the door being locked. When it returned with the coffee, he didn’t even notice it. He was too busy staring at a map of the area. Of course! How could he have overlooked it? It was only a hunch, but if he knew Sirius.... The tray respectfully nudged his elbow, bringing him back to the real world. He picked up the coffee and sipped at it thoughtfully as room service sailed out again. If he was right, he would have to act quickly. He looked out of the window and shuddered; it was far too stormy to risk a broomstick flight - he would need to brave the elements on foot. Tomorrow would probably be fair; but if he waited for tomorrow, the chance might be lost, and he would have to start over. Making his mind up quickly, he packed his things away into his case, stopping only to remove his warmest, heaviest travelling cloak. He left the room and headed for reception to pay his bill and collect his broomstick. The coffee lay on the table, reheating itself every ten minutes until the maid cleared it away the next day.
Remus felt like the heroine of some badly written paperback novel, striding through the storm to meet his beloved. Of course, in paperback romances, being drenched in rain merely served to make the heroine look both stunning and helpless, and the besotted hero usually proposed on the spot. Remus felt like a drowned rat, and suspected that he didn't look much better. And he no idea of what his own hero's feeling for him were, far less how the story would end. But any ending in which they were together, no matter in what capacity, would be enough for him. And so he struggled on, towards the ruins.
He had overlooked them the first time because in his scrying crystal they appeared to be nothing more than piles of stone. Indeed, that was all they were - now. In the past they had been a settlement, with maybe twenty Muggles living there. They were very primitive, and their homes were hardly comfortable. But the settlement had remained standing, abandonned, for over a decade after its inhabitants had moved on. There were several places around the country with similar stories, and Remus knew of at least two where Sirius had retreats. In the summer of their sixth year at Hogwarts, they had holidayed together in one.
Sirius' method was simple. He would find one of these abandoned villages, and set up what he liked to call a 'twisting place'. This would send him back in time to soon after the native inhabitants had left, bringing a few modern comforts with him. As he could not change the past, he removed all the traces of his presence before he left. According to wizarding law, nobody was allowed to spend more than twenty days in the past, so as to minimise the risk of anything being altered. Hence Remus' need for haste. Sirius had left a fortnight ago, and would have to move on soon or contravene the law. And Sirius was now more anxious than ever to preserve his integrity.
Remus arrived at the ruins, drenched and shivering, a little past midnight. Now all he had to do was find the twisting place. If there was one. It was always possible that he was wrong, although he doubted it. After all, what better place to hide than the past? A search team could comb this place twice over and never find him. Unless they knew what to look for, that is. It took nearly an hour of searching before he found it - a skeleton hut with some symbols carved on the post which must once has supported the roof. Smiling, Remus laid his hands over it, fingers spread. He closed his eyes, whispering a few words as he did so. He felt the two realities of the place begin to form within his mind. He focussed on the second, took hold of his sense of reality, and twisted. When he opened his eyes again, he knew he had been right. Appearently, it never stopped raining here, as he could still hear the downpour beating on the rough-thatched roof. Thankfully, he noted a small fire glowing in the grate. The room was plain, but Sirius had left his mark on it: a small foldaway table covered in maps; a mirror, basin, soap and comb tucked neatly away in a cornor; and rolls and rolls of parchment, along with a couple of quills and various colours of ink. Of Sirius himself there was no sign. A bedroll lay heating before the fire, so clearly he wasn't yet asleep. Remus didn't wish to risk the weather again, so he settled before the welcome heat of the fire to wait for his friend'd return.
**********
A screech outside roused Remus. He had dozed off in front of the fire. There was a brief moment of silence, and then Sirius burst through the door of the hut in a flurry of cold air, wand upraised. Seeing Remus rising to greet him, his menacing expression melted into a warm smile.
"Remus!" he cried, shutting the door behind him. "You found me, I see. How long have you been here?"
"Only a couple of hours," said Remus. He was uncertain as to what to do next. Although he badly wanted to rush over and embrace his friend, to hold him in his arms and know for sure that this was real, he wasn't certain how well this would be recieved. Sirius solved his dilemma for him by striding over and seizing him in a bear hug.
"It's wonderful to see you again." he said as he realeased him. "How did you find me? Was it Purus Coranis?"
"Yes. I didn't think you'd remember...." Remus said, oddly pleased.
"What? Forget a vow? Not I!" Sirius' tone grew more serious. "I'm not a fool, you know. Leaving the spell unblocked was a risk. Some of those pursuing me are as pure of mind as you or I. Although," the teasing note returned to his voice, "I doubt they would have the wit to find a spell outside the mainstream books."
"If it was such a risk, why did you do it?"
"Purely selfish reasons I'm afraid." Remus' heart sank. Sirius' voice held great sincerity. "I wanted you with me, Moony. Terrible of me, I know. Doubtless you have your own life to lead, but... I did so badly want to see you again."
Remus' eyes were bright with unshed tears, which he quickly blinked away. "I don't believe anyone's called my Moony for years. I missed you, you know. Even when I thought you had killed James, I still kept thinking about you." Remus cut himself off abruptly, not wanting to say too much. Sirius turned away.
"Oh Moony," he said softly. "I thought about you too. I thought about you a lot. And what must you have thought of me? Branded a prisoner, carted off to Azkaban...." his voice was breaking. Gently, Remus put an arm around his friend's shoulder and led him to sit by the fire.
"Don't worry about it," he said, soothingly. "What's past is past. I'm here now." Sirius laid his head on Remus' arm.
"I don't expect you to come with me, you know," he said. "It's going to be an uncomfortable few months, dodging aroud from place to place, until Dumbledore manages to dampen down the pursuit. Although it's lovely to have you here, I wouldn't inflict the life of a fugitive on you."
"Don't give the matter another thought," admonished Remus. "Do you think I spent all this time looking for you just to say hello? Let alone getting soaked to the skin out there. Of course I'm coming with you. I fully intend not to let you out of my sight for at least a month."
"Good old Moony," yawned Sirius, "always looking out for me. I bet you must be pretty tired. I'm exhausted. I'm afraid I haven't made much provision for guests, but I have a spare sleeping roll." He got up, stretched, and went to unpack it. Remus stayed where he was, gazing into the fire. Already the hut was starting to feel like home. From now on, he decided, home was wherever Sirius was.
Sirius was the first to wake the next morning. He rolled over, and hit Remus in the stomach with a flailing arm. However, he just whimpered, shifted a little, and continued to sleep. Sirius smiled, and got up and dressed as quietly as possible so as not to disturb him further. Softly, he slipped out of the door, and went to look after Buckbeak and feed him. He returned to find that Remus had turned over and was now snuggling into his sleeping roll. Dear old Moony, he thought affectionately. I'm lucky to have a friend like you. Since their first meeting for nearly fourteen years, just a couple of weeks back, he had never really had the chance to see how age had affected his childhood companion. Time has been kinder to you than it has to me, he thought ruefully, keenly aware of his unkempt hair and his too-thin features. True, Remus had a few grey strands threaded through his blond hair, and when he smiled or frowned then half-formed lines around his eyes and mouth showed up, but Sirius thought they suited him. They lent his appearance an air of dignity and experience. Now though, his face was relaxed in sleep, and looked almost childlike, gentle and vulnerable. How deceptive looks can be, Sirius mused. Although Remus looked very fragile, his friend knew he had a core of steel. He had often suprised older, brawnier boys at school by his strength in arm wrestling, and people who met him in later life knew that while he was an intensely loyal friend, he could also be a bitter and terrible enemy. One of Sirius' worst fears in Azkaban was of Remus hating him. Remus, so fiercely true to his friends, so vehemently opposed to the Dark Arts. Remus, who had argued more than once that spies and traitors were in many ways worse than fully-fledged Death Eaters who had sided with Voldemort from the start. What must he think of one of his two closest friends turning the other over to the Dark Lord? How much of his passionate soul might be consumedin loathing such a deed? Had he even considered that he might be innocent? One of Sirius' worst nightmares of the time was of escaping Azkaban and fleeing to Remus for help. And those gentle grey eyes hardened to flint as he said, 'Help? Help you, scum? Never! I'm glad you escaped though. I always did think Azkaban was too good for you!' And Sirius would cry, 'Stop! No, please! I can explain! Give me a chance!' as Remus raised his wand, no mercy on his face....
Sirius' dark thoughts were interrupted by those same eyes flickering, closing for a couple of seconds, and then opening more fully. Half lidded, they focussed on him.
"Why are you staring at me?" Remus asked, sleepily. "Do I snore?"
"No, no," Sirius replied. "I was just... thinking, that's all."
"Really? What about?"
"Oh, nothing in particular," Sirius said, hastily. Now, with Remus smiling that little half-smile of his, his fevered dreams seemed foolish. His friend was nothing if not a fair man. He would give even his worst enemy a chance to explain himself. This was the man who had searched half of England and trudged a mile and a half through torrential rain just to be with him, after all. He would not insult his friend by admitting that he had thought he would be so unjust.
As Remus stretched and changed into fresh robes, Sirius turned away to give him a little privacy. Calling over his shoulder, he asked, "Would you like something to eat?"
"Please," said Remus. "I'm famished."
"Not suprised," came the rejoinder. "That was quite a trek you made last night. Why on earth didn't you wait til morning?"
"Didn't want to miss you. I knew you'd probably have to move on pretty soon. By the way, when are we going?" By this point, he had finished dressing and joined his friend at the small table, where he had laid out a little pile of wheat grains and a couple of pebbles.
"Definately a 'we' then, is it? I meant what I said, you know. I won't take it amiss if you want to leave."
"And I meant what I said. I'm sticking with you. That is, unless you're sick of me already?"
"Of course not! Don't be stupid! You know that I - " Sirius broke off as he looked up at his friend's amused face. "You're teasing me, aren't you?" he said, suspiciously.
"Well... maybe just a little," Remus conceeded.
"Oh, you're evil! You know I can never tell when you're joking." Sirius stopped, looked at his friend, and laughed. "I've missed that," he said. "I've missed you. I've missed all the little things you used to do that made me smile. I've missed... everything."
"Even the teasing?" Remus enquired, eyes dancing.
"Even that," Sirius admitted, grudgingly. "Mind you, I'm not saying it can't be annoying from time to time," he added sternly.
"Oh, very well," Remus said, still smiling. "I promise not to tease you...........much. If you want to know the truth," he continued in a more serious tone, "I've missed this as well. I've never found anyone else I could relax with the way I can with you."
"Moony dear, you flatter me so," said Sirius with some of his old flippancy. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't feel like having a deep, meaningful conversation right then. Part of it, he supposed, was the way he had broken down the night before. It scared him that his newfound composure could be ruffled so easily. Why was he frightened? After all, it was only Moony. No, that wasn't right. It could never be only Moony. It was Moony, his best friend in the whole world, but he wasn't yet ready to share the horrors of the past few years; not with anybody.
"How about that breakfast?" he said, still trying to lighten the mood. "Sweeetened or not?"
"Just a little sweetened please." Sirius produced a wand from the fold of his sleeve and flicked it deftly over the wheat on the table. The wheat disappeared, and two bowls of cereal were there instead.
"Your cooking's improved," Remus observed wryly.
"Useful little trick, isn't it? All I need are the raw materials, and I can make just about anything. Most of my spellcasting's rather rusty, but this I do remember. I'll teach you it sometime."
"Thanks." As they settled down, Remus thought of something. "Sirius," he asked, "where did you get the wand from?"
"Left it here," came the reply. "This was my emergency retreat druing the Dark Times. Bought a spare wand from Ollivander's and time sealed it here so it couldn't go forward into the present. Doesn't work nearly as well as my old one, but they snapped that, of course. I wish I had it back. It was a good wand. This one's all very well, but it has no.......crackle to it, if you see what I mean."
Remus said that he did, and the conversation turned to other things. As they were clearing up from breakfast, Remus said suddenly, "By the way, you never answered my question."
"Which one?" asked Sirius distractedly, trying to Transfigure the bowls back into pebbles again.
"When are we leaving?"
"Probably in a couple of days. I'd like to stay here as long as possible. The next retreat's on the other side of the country, and Buckbeak hurt his hoof last night as he was landing. I'd like to give him some time to recover before attempting that difficult a flight."
"Fair enough," said Remus. "Oh! That must have been the screech I heard last night."
"What screech?"
"Just before you came in, I heard a screech. It was what woke me up."
"Funny. I don't remember him making any noise. I suppose I was just a little distracted. It was quite late, after all."
"Must have been," said Remus, but all the same, he felt a twinge of uneasiness.
**********
They spent the day indoors, as Sirius explained he didn't like to go out in the daytime, in case someone saw him. That was why he had been out so late the night before; it was the only time he could safely gather food. Remus felt a little awkward suddenly, having nothing but conversation with his friend to occupy him. He was keenly aware of the long years they'd been apart. He's been through hell, thought Remus, and there's no way he can have come out unchanged. He's still Sirius, but not quite the same Sirius I knew. I'll have to be careful not to upset him. Consequently, he was somewhat at a loss as to what to talk about. It seemed unfair to rub his friend's nose in how cut off from society he'd been by talking about what had happened since his imprisonment, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. His mind was blank. Fortunately, Sirius solved his dilemma for him.
"So," he said. "Tell me about my godson."
For the next few hours, they were happily occupied talking about Harry. Sirius wanted to know everything about him; what grades he got, what his friends were like, (he had, after all, only met them very briefly), what kind of pranks he got up to, how he didin Quidditch. Remus furnished him with plenty of annecdotes, as well as news of the boy's more serious exploits, most of which he had picked up in the staffroom. This led, naturally, to talk of Harry's feud with Snape.
"Well, well, well," Sirius chuckled delightedly, as Remus told him about Harry's constant scrapes with the teacher. "He really is like his father. Glad to see our old traditions are being kept up. Snape needs somebody to loathe, or what would he do with his life?"
They ate quite late in the afternoon, and afterwards played a few games of wizard chess on the mini board Remus had brought with him. Although Remus cleared the board the first couple of games, Sirius warmed up quickly and was soon giving as good as he got. As the sun began to go down, they conceeded a draw on their final match and ate a hearty supper. Remus was rather suprised when, shortly afterwards, Sirius began to prepare for bed.
"Turning in so soon?" he asked.
"Just for a few hours," came the reply. "What with having to cater for two now - not that I mind!" he added quickly, forstalling any comment on his friend's part, "I have to lay in some more supplies. I'll go out around eleven."
"Fair enough," said Remus. Sirius was suprised to see him start to get changed.
"You can stay up if you want, you know," he said, as Remus curled up inside his sleeping roll. "You won't disturb me."
"S'alright," came the slightly muffled reply. "I'm going with you. Just because I'm staying with you, doesn't mean I shouldn't earn my keep."
Sirius was about to argue, then thought better of it. He knew his friend could be very stubborn about this kind of thing. Remus was not a man who took pride in many things, but supporting himself was one of them.
"Suit yourself," he said. "I'll wake you at eleven then, shall I?"
"'K," Remus answered, very faintly. Sirius nodded, and closed his eyes.
The wind that had been howling over the heath dropped away. Outside, Buckbeak settled gracefully in his makeshift shelter. Soon, the only sound to be heard in the hut was the quiet, rhythimical breathing of the two men, and the steady drip of rain on the thatched roof.
Calloused hands caressed him, knowing exactly where to touch, where to tease, to stroke; knowing him better that he thought possible. A black-haired head joined the hands, trailing across his chest, spiralling slowly downwards, softly calling his name -
"Remus.... Remus, wake up!" Slowly, Remus opened his eyes, to find Sirius leaning over him, hair tousled from sleep, a hand shaking his shoulder gently.
"Time for our late night raid," said Sirius. "You know, the one you refused to let me go on unaccompanied?" he added with a grin, as Remus blinked owlishly and tried to focus on his surroundings.
"Yeah, of course... just give me a minute to get dressed," yawned Remus, still trying to drag himself from the hazy dreamworld he was rather reluctant to leave.
As soon as they were both up and dressed, they went outside, Sirius placing a 'Nothing Here' charm on the hut.
"It's a much less sophisticated version of the one in Diagon Alley," Sirius explained as he finished. "Too weak to be noticed by wizarding folk, but just enough to distract any curious locals from exploring further."
"You've an excellent memory," Remus remarked. "You seem to recall much more of our schoolwork than I do."
"Come of having fewer memories between times to clutter it up," Sirius said, attempting a flippant grin and not entirely succeeding. Remus, couldn't think of an answer which wouldn't he hurtful, offensive or just plain silly, so he did the next best thing; he laid a comforting arm on his friend's shoulder and smiled gently. He was rewarded by a grateful, affectionate look from Sirius before he turned away to untether Buckbeak. The hippogriff stretched lazily, rather like a cat. Sirius made a bow, as did Remus, and Buckbeak stooped in return. Sirius mounted with practised ease, and gestured to his friend to follow him. But Remus seemed to hesitate.
"What are you waiting for?" Sirius called down.
"I've never ridden an animal bigger than a Shetland pony, and that scared me," confessed Remus, wryly. "Broomsticks are all very well, but I'm not at all sure I want to get up there."
"Well, if you prefer to go back to bed after all, then go ahead. I'll be back before you know it."
That did it. Remus bit his lip, and gingerly pulled himself on to the kneeling hippogriff.
"Too stubborn for his own good, that's my Moony," teased Sirius, relishing having the upper hand for a change. "you ready to fly? Takeoffs are usually a bit bumpy, so you might want to hang on to my waist. I promise, once we get up there, you'll really enjoy it."
Remus did as he was instructed. The closeness of his new position, combined with the jumbled memories of his dream, were doing nothing for his mental state. Fighting several conflicting urges, he had to keep reminding himself that, in the waking world, Sirius was not his lover.
Putting Remus' slight increase in breathing down to nerves, Sirius dug his heels lightly into Buckbeak's back, and the hippogriff stirred his great wings and took flight. Remus felt his stomach turn over at the sudden, rather jerky movement upwards, and screwed his eyes tight shut. However, after a minute or so, the tempo evened out, and he risked a peak at the world around him. It nearly took his breath away. The landscape below was carpeted in moonlight, which glinted off patches of water and gave the moonlight a pale, unearthly glow. The village near one of its edges showed up as a cluster of flickering lights, and shadows from the clouds above chased each other across the ground. Buckbeak beat his wings leisurely, keeping them gliding at a slow, steady pace.
Hearing Remus' involuntary gasp, Sirius grinned to himself. "Quite something, isn't it?" he said. "The best thing about flying this way is you get to admire the view."
"It's beautiful," Remus whispered, almost reverently. "Like something about of a painting, or a fairytale."
"Yeah," said Sirius. After a brief pause, he added, "Thank you."
"For what?" asked Remus, surprised.
"Being here, I guess. This kind of beauty is best if you can share it with someone... do you know what I mean?"
"Of course. Thanks for... well, for sharing it with me."
"Well, Buckbeak here doesn't really respond to these things the way you do," said Sirius, once again lightening the mood before things grew too deep. He knew that, if Remus stayed with him, then sooner or later they would have to talk seriously. They couldn't allow all the events of the past fifteen years to hand between them unsaid, it would be ridiculous. Better to confront the issues than to continually second-guess each other on them. But right now he was happy relaxing in his freind's company, and he wanted to prolong that happiness while he could.
Remus knew his friend's teasing for what it was, and didn't take it amiss. From his schooldays onwards, Sirius had laughed off any kind of meaningful talk. Remus, a very solemn child, had been offended by this at first. However, as he matured, he came to realise that this was just his friend's way of dealing with things that made him uncomfortable. Although he personally preferred those kind of things in depth, he understood Sirius' methods and respected them. Knowing his friend needed it at the moment, he kept up the light-hearted banter.
"Oh, I don't know," he said airily. "Look at him. He appreciates this as much as we do. I know an artistic soul when I see one, you know."
Sirius grinned, and decided to push his friend a little.
"You? You know nothing about art, never have done. Your taste is far too conventional, my boy. Look at poor Buckbeak, he's all offended. He doesn't want to be called artistic by someone with your view on the subject."
"Oh, and I suppose yours are better, are they?" said Remus, sniffily. It was a struggle to keep the offended tone in his voice, though, when he wanted to burst out laughing and hug his friend tightly. "You, with all your modernist learnings? Swirling colours that scream when you approach them, and sculptures that attack each other on sight? That's not art, that's chaos!"
It was a well-trodden debate between them, and it felt good to revoice the old arguments. The pair continued to torment each other happily until they reached Sirius' 'scavenging ground', as he liked to call it. Unfortunately, by this time the moon had disappeared behind the clouds, and because they didn't wan to attract unwelcome attention, they were somewhat at a loss as to how to see. Remus came up with a solution; a spell that imitated moonlight, providing them with enough illumination.
"Neat little trick, that," said Sirius appreciatively as he began to gather corn, herbs and other necessaries from the village's fields. Remus had been dubious about this at first, but Sirius had told him that he had placed plenty of growing spells on the crops, along with charms to keep away pest and attract good weather, and was merely collecting an appropriate fee. Knowing that Sirius had no other easy means of getting food, Remus agreed that this wasn't morally wrong.
"I'll teach you it sometime," he said, "in return for that cookery spell of yours."
"Done," said Sirius.
**********
Sometime later, laden with supplies, they began to fly home. Remus was surprised at how quickly the hut had become that to him. He was adrift in happy dreams of a cosily domestic life with Sirius, who was also silent, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. The moon had appeared again, softened by a thin mist, bathing the sleeping land in a silvery glow.
"A night for lovers, huh?"
"What?" said Remus, startled out of his reveries. Sirius couldn't read minds as well, surely.
"I just meant, you know, the pale moon, the quiet country landscape, the occasional nightbird's song... every cliché present and correct."
"Yeah, I guess," said Remus, as casually as he could whilst still trying to will his heart back to its normal rate.
"I've been meaning to ask you, actually. Have you got a lover? Or a ladyfriend, or whatever you want to call it? Because if you have, I wouldn't want to get in the way -"
"No, no, there's no-one," Remus interrupted hastily. "Or at least, I'm not dating anyone."
If Sirius saw the distinction between the two, he gave no sign of it. They flew on in comfortable silence, until they reached the hut. As they descended, Remus thought he saw a shape flutter away from the roof, but it was gone before he was sure it had been there in the first place. They landed with a bump, and Sirius jumped off, before offering a hand to Remus. He grasped it, swung one leg over, and slid down the hippogriff's back.
"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" asked Sirius, leading Buckbeak to his pen.
"Was what?"
"Flying, of course, Mr. I-only-ride-Shetland-ponies."
"No, it wasn't bad at all. It was... wonderful."
"Come inside, said Sirius, gesturing to the hut door. "It's getting late."
**********
Having been woken the first time, Remus was finding it difficult to get to sleep again. Instead, he was watching his friend, sprawled on one side, mouth half-open. He watched the chest rising and falling in slow, rhythmical movements, and noticed how the worry-lines on the face eased away with sleep. He watched the tiny, restless shiftings of the limbs, and the twitching fingers closing and relaxing on the blanket. He paid rapt attention, wanting to memorise every detail of this scene and store it up, in case they were ever parted again. And that was how he heard the tiny sound his friend made.
"Remus," Sirius moaned, softly.
Remus scanned the bleak landscape before him with eager eyes. Nothing. Not a hut, not a cave, not even a tunnel. Nothing that could hide a grown wizard, or shelter him from the bitter weather that lashed the moor. With a sigh, he put away his scrying crystal. The location spell had led him this far, to a barren moor where he was currently staying in a wizard’s retreat at ten Galleons a night, but it would not lead him any closer. And yet, it was the only one to give him even a clue as to the whereabouts of his friend. The more common spells had been blocked, and no wonder. With a manhunt to deal with, Sirius would naturally have taken every precaution. But one spell had been unhindered. It was a somewhat obscure incantation known as ‘Purus Coranis’, which would only show the location of the person sought if the caster’s intentions were pure. Remus smiled to himself. Perhaps there was a reason why the spell had not been more precise. Although his thoughts of Sirius were friendly, he couldn’t exactly call them pure.
Remus had liked and admired Sirius ever since they had first met. He had been drawn to his recklessness, his daring, his sharp wit, keen intelligence and lazy charm. A quiet, somewhat reserved youth, he had found his friend’s devil-may-care attitude an irresistible breath of fresh air. The two became firm friends in no time, and grew closer as the years passed. They took delight in researching obscure spells, bending school rules and teasing their other best friend, James Potter, about his growing crush on Lily, a pretty Griffindor girl from a Muggle family. However, as they grew older, Remus found his admiration for Sirius taking on a new, more uncomfortable form. He frequently caught himself watching him instead of paying attention in class, or admiring his friend’s physique when they changed robes. And sometimes, when Sirius smiled at him, his heart would leap, and his stomach would turn over, and it was all he could do to smile briefly back and then look away, before he did something that would embarrass them both. Although he did not count these feelings as wrong, Remus was nonetheless alarmed by them. His rakish friend had his share of female admirers, and Remus had no desire to be teased for his crush the way the pair of them had often teased James. This meant that he lacked a confidant, as Peter Pettigrew was hardly the type that one could make that kind of confession to. So he kept himself to himself. The only person who did suspect was Severus Snape. Odd how a person’s worst enemies often knew him better than his friends. Severus’ jibes stung, but they were always made in private, and so did less damage than they could have done. After the incident with the Whumping Willow, Severus refrained from speaking to their group altogether, which was one small burden lifted. And so, life went on. Then, shortly after they had left school, the Dark times came. Nobody knew who to trust anymore. The friends dared not speak to each other, for fear that one of them had turned. And yet, Remus never expected what had happened next.
The day of the Potter’s murder was still clearly emblazoned on his mind. James’ death had been an awful blow; the world had lost a brave man, and Remus had lost one of his closest friends. But Sirius’ arrest hit him harder. Although they had not spoken in nearly a year, and then only briefly, Remus still remembered the Sirius he had known at Hogwarts - dashing and brilliant, all dark hair and bright smiles. That Sirius could turn traitor seemed ludicrous - impossible even. And yet, it had happened. Remus had never cried the way he did that night. Silent tears that left him blind and deaf to the world; screams that wracked his body and left him shaking in sorrow and anger. Yes, he was angry all right - furious even. How could Sirius do it? How could he? With one action he had robbed Remus of his two best friends, and more - he had also stolen his childhood’s hero, the fantasy of his teenage years, love’s young dream. For Sirius to cease to be himself - that was almost as terrible a betrayal as handing James over to Voldemort. Remus couldn’t bear to attend the trial; couldn’t force himself to look upon that face again, and see a stranger there. Even worse - what if Sirius hadn’t changed? What if Remus’ charming friend could do such a thing, and still be himself? That was too horrible even to think about.
When the news came out that Sirius had escaped Azkaban, Remus was shaken. He tried to fortify himself against thoughts of his former friend, with moderate success. But still, in spite of everything, he couldn’t bring himself to give the information that might help them to capture Sirius. Dumbledore’s trust in him was only half the story; no matter what he had done, Remus couldn’t betray Sirius into the hands of the Dementors. And looking back, he was glad he had not done so. Seeing Sirius alive, knowing him innocent, was the best feeling in the world. And looking into his eyes, all the old longings had come rushing back.
The next few hours had passed in a blur. All he remembered clearly were his emotions as he heard what had happened: terror at the thought of Harry or Sirius being hunted by the Dementors; anger at Snape and Pettigrew for stealing his friend’s chance of proving his innocence; and sheer, numbing, soul-shattering relief when he learned that the convict had escaped. At that moment, he decided to follow Sirius and help him however he could - Snape’s spiteful revelations the next morning had merely strengthened his resolve. And so he gathered his materials, and set off on the trail of his elusive friend.
When even the most sophisticated spells failed, he had begun to lose hope. But then he remembered the spell he and Sirius had found, years and years ago, whilst looking for new and innovative ways to cheat at Hide-and-Seek. Sirius had turned to him, and said, ‘If we ever want to find each other, we should use this. We must promise each other we’ll never block it, and that will show we trust each other. I can always find you, and you can always find me. That is,’ he grinned roguishly, ‘if your heart is pure enough.’ Remus doubted that Sirius remembered this vow; he was an impulsive youth, and routinely extracted oaths of eternal friendship from all three of them. Remus frowned involuntarily; he didn’t want to think of Peter now. It could easily have been co-incidence that this one spell wasn’t blocked; after all, it wasn’t well known, and very few people would think to use it. Still, he had to wonder....
Remus’ train of thought was interrupted by room service - a tray floated into the room with and order form and a quill on it. He settled for Self-Heating Coffee, as it would probably go cold at least three times before he had a chance to drink it. Leaving a generous tip on the tray, he went back to work. The tray floated out again through the service hatch, the door being locked. When it returned with the coffee, he didn’t even notice it. He was too busy staring at a map of the area. Of course! How could he have overlooked it? It was only a hunch, but if he knew Sirius.... The tray respectfully nudged his elbow, bringing him back to the real world. He picked up the coffee and sipped at it thoughtfully as room service sailed out again. If he was right, he would have to act quickly. He looked out of the window and shuddered; it was far too stormy to risk a broomstick flight - he would need to brave the elements on foot. Tomorrow would probably be fair; but if he waited for tomorrow, the chance might be lost, and he would have to start over. Making his mind up quickly, he packed his things away into his case, stopping only to remove his warmest, heaviest travelling cloak. He left the room and headed for reception to pay his bill and collect his broomstick. The coffee lay on the table, reheating itself every ten minutes until the maid cleared it away the next day.
Remus felt like the heroine of some badly written paperback novel, striding through the storm to meet his beloved. Of course, in paperback romances, being drenched in rain merely served to make the heroine look both stunning and helpless, and the besotted hero usually proposed on the spot. Remus felt like a drowned rat, and suspected that he didn't look much better. And he no idea of what his own hero's feeling for him were, far less how the story would end. But any ending in which they were together, no matter in what capacity, would be enough for him. And so he struggled on, towards the ruins.
He had overlooked them the first time because in his scrying crystal they appeared to be nothing more than piles of stone. Indeed, that was all they were - now. In the past they had been a settlement, with maybe twenty Muggles living there. They were very primitive, and their homes were hardly comfortable. But the settlement had remained standing, abandonned, for over a decade after its inhabitants had moved on. There were several places around the country with similar stories, and Remus knew of at least two where Sirius had retreats. In the summer of their sixth year at Hogwarts, they had holidayed together in one.
Sirius' method was simple. He would find one of these abandoned villages, and set up what he liked to call a 'twisting place'. This would send him back in time to soon after the native inhabitants had left, bringing a few modern comforts with him. As he could not change the past, he removed all the traces of his presence before he left. According to wizarding law, nobody was allowed to spend more than twenty days in the past, so as to minimise the risk of anything being altered. Hence Remus' need for haste. Sirius had left a fortnight ago, and would have to move on soon or contravene the law. And Sirius was now more anxious than ever to preserve his integrity.
Remus arrived at the ruins, drenched and shivering, a little past midnight. Now all he had to do was find the twisting place. If there was one. It was always possible that he was wrong, although he doubted it. After all, what better place to hide than the past? A search team could comb this place twice over and never find him. Unless they knew what to look for, that is. It took nearly an hour of searching before he found it - a skeleton hut with some symbols carved on the post which must once has supported the roof. Smiling, Remus laid his hands over it, fingers spread. He closed his eyes, whispering a few words as he did so. He felt the two realities of the place begin to form within his mind. He focussed on the second, took hold of his sense of reality, and twisted. When he opened his eyes again, he knew he had been right. Appearently, it never stopped raining here, as he could still hear the downpour beating on the rough-thatched roof. Thankfully, he noted a small fire glowing in the grate. The room was plain, but Sirius had left his mark on it: a small foldaway table covered in maps; a mirror, basin, soap and comb tucked neatly away in a cornor; and rolls and rolls of parchment, along with a couple of quills and various colours of ink. Of Sirius himself there was no sign. A bedroll lay heating before the fire, so clearly he wasn't yet asleep. Remus didn't wish to risk the weather again, so he settled before the welcome heat of the fire to wait for his friend'd return.
**********
A screech outside roused Remus. He had dozed off in front of the fire. There was a brief moment of silence, and then Sirius burst through the door of the hut in a flurry of cold air, wand upraised. Seeing Remus rising to greet him, his menacing expression melted into a warm smile.
"Remus!" he cried, shutting the door behind him. "You found me, I see. How long have you been here?"
"Only a couple of hours," said Remus. He was uncertain as to what to do next. Although he badly wanted to rush over and embrace his friend, to hold him in his arms and know for sure that this was real, he wasn't certain how well this would be recieved. Sirius solved his dilemma for him by striding over and seizing him in a bear hug.
"It's wonderful to see you again." he said as he realeased him. "How did you find me? Was it Purus Coranis?"
"Yes. I didn't think you'd remember...." Remus said, oddly pleased.
"What? Forget a vow? Not I!" Sirius' tone grew more serious. "I'm not a fool, you know. Leaving the spell unblocked was a risk. Some of those pursuing me are as pure of mind as you or I. Although," the teasing note returned to his voice, "I doubt they would have the wit to find a spell outside the mainstream books."
"If it was such a risk, why did you do it?"
"Purely selfish reasons I'm afraid." Remus' heart sank. Sirius' voice held great sincerity. "I wanted you with me, Moony. Terrible of me, I know. Doubtless you have your own life to lead, but... I did so badly want to see you again."
Remus' eyes were bright with unshed tears, which he quickly blinked away. "I don't believe anyone's called my Moony for years. I missed you, you know. Even when I thought you had killed James, I still kept thinking about you." Remus cut himself off abruptly, not wanting to say too much. Sirius turned away.
"Oh Moony," he said softly. "I thought about you too. I thought about you a lot. And what must you have thought of me? Branded a prisoner, carted off to Azkaban...." his voice was breaking. Gently, Remus put an arm around his friend's shoulder and led him to sit by the fire.
"Don't worry about it," he said, soothingly. "What's past is past. I'm here now." Sirius laid his head on Remus' arm.
"I don't expect you to come with me, you know," he said. "It's going to be an uncomfortable few months, dodging aroud from place to place, until Dumbledore manages to dampen down the pursuit. Although it's lovely to have you here, I wouldn't inflict the life of a fugitive on you."
"Don't give the matter another thought," admonished Remus. "Do you think I spent all this time looking for you just to say hello? Let alone getting soaked to the skin out there. Of course I'm coming with you. I fully intend not to let you out of my sight for at least a month."
"Good old Moony," yawned Sirius, "always looking out for me. I bet you must be pretty tired. I'm exhausted. I'm afraid I haven't made much provision for guests, but I have a spare sleeping roll." He got up, stretched, and went to unpack it. Remus stayed where he was, gazing into the fire. Already the hut was starting to feel like home. From now on, he decided, home was wherever Sirius was.
Sirius was the first to wake the next morning. He rolled over, and hit Remus in the stomach with a flailing arm. However, he just whimpered, shifted a little, and continued to sleep. Sirius smiled, and got up and dressed as quietly as possible so as not to disturb him further. Softly, he slipped out of the door, and went to look after Buckbeak and feed him. He returned to find that Remus had turned over and was now snuggling into his sleeping roll. Dear old Moony, he thought affectionately. I'm lucky to have a friend like you. Since their first meeting for nearly fourteen years, just a couple of weeks back, he had never really had the chance to see how age had affected his childhood companion. Time has been kinder to you than it has to me, he thought ruefully, keenly aware of his unkempt hair and his too-thin features. True, Remus had a few grey strands threaded through his blond hair, and when he smiled or frowned then half-formed lines around his eyes and mouth showed up, but Sirius thought they suited him. They lent his appearance an air of dignity and experience. Now though, his face was relaxed in sleep, and looked almost childlike, gentle and vulnerable. How deceptive looks can be, Sirius mused. Although Remus looked very fragile, his friend knew he had a core of steel. He had often suprised older, brawnier boys at school by his strength in arm wrestling, and people who met him in later life knew that while he was an intensely loyal friend, he could also be a bitter and terrible enemy. One of Sirius' worst fears in Azkaban was of Remus hating him. Remus, so fiercely true to his friends, so vehemently opposed to the Dark Arts. Remus, who had argued more than once that spies and traitors were in many ways worse than fully-fledged Death Eaters who had sided with Voldemort from the start. What must he think of one of his two closest friends turning the other over to the Dark Lord? How much of his passionate soul might be consumedin loathing such a deed? Had he even considered that he might be innocent? One of Sirius' worst nightmares of the time was of escaping Azkaban and fleeing to Remus for help. And those gentle grey eyes hardened to flint as he said, 'Help? Help you, scum? Never! I'm glad you escaped though. I always did think Azkaban was too good for you!' And Sirius would cry, 'Stop! No, please! I can explain! Give me a chance!' as Remus raised his wand, no mercy on his face....
Sirius' dark thoughts were interrupted by those same eyes flickering, closing for a couple of seconds, and then opening more fully. Half lidded, they focussed on him.
"Why are you staring at me?" Remus asked, sleepily. "Do I snore?"
"No, no," Sirius replied. "I was just... thinking, that's all."
"Really? What about?"
"Oh, nothing in particular," Sirius said, hastily. Now, with Remus smiling that little half-smile of his, his fevered dreams seemed foolish. His friend was nothing if not a fair man. He would give even his worst enemy a chance to explain himself. This was the man who had searched half of England and trudged a mile and a half through torrential rain just to be with him, after all. He would not insult his friend by admitting that he had thought he would be so unjust.
As Remus stretched and changed into fresh robes, Sirius turned away to give him a little privacy. Calling over his shoulder, he asked, "Would you like something to eat?"
"Please," said Remus. "I'm famished."
"Not suprised," came the rejoinder. "That was quite a trek you made last night. Why on earth didn't you wait til morning?"
"Didn't want to miss you. I knew you'd probably have to move on pretty soon. By the way, when are we going?" By this point, he had finished dressing and joined his friend at the small table, where he had laid out a little pile of wheat grains and a couple of pebbles.
"Definately a 'we' then, is it? I meant what I said, you know. I won't take it amiss if you want to leave."
"And I meant what I said. I'm sticking with you. That is, unless you're sick of me already?"
"Of course not! Don't be stupid! You know that I - " Sirius broke off as he looked up at his friend's amused face. "You're teasing me, aren't you?" he said, suspiciously.
"Well... maybe just a little," Remus conceeded.
"Oh, you're evil! You know I can never tell when you're joking." Sirius stopped, looked at his friend, and laughed. "I've missed that," he said. "I've missed you. I've missed all the little things you used to do that made me smile. I've missed... everything."
"Even the teasing?" Remus enquired, eyes dancing.
"Even that," Sirius admitted, grudgingly. "Mind you, I'm not saying it can't be annoying from time to time," he added sternly.
"Oh, very well," Remus said, still smiling. "I promise not to tease you...........much. If you want to know the truth," he continued in a more serious tone, "I've missed this as well. I've never found anyone else I could relax with the way I can with you."
"Moony dear, you flatter me so," said Sirius with some of his old flippancy. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't feel like having a deep, meaningful conversation right then. Part of it, he supposed, was the way he had broken down the night before. It scared him that his newfound composure could be ruffled so easily. Why was he frightened? After all, it was only Moony. No, that wasn't right. It could never be only Moony. It was Moony, his best friend in the whole world, but he wasn't yet ready to share the horrors of the past few years; not with anybody.
"How about that breakfast?" he said, still trying to lighten the mood. "Sweeetened or not?"
"Just a little sweetened please." Sirius produced a wand from the fold of his sleeve and flicked it deftly over the wheat on the table. The wheat disappeared, and two bowls of cereal were there instead.
"Your cooking's improved," Remus observed wryly.
"Useful little trick, isn't it? All I need are the raw materials, and I can make just about anything. Most of my spellcasting's rather rusty, but this I do remember. I'll teach you it sometime."
"Thanks." As they settled down, Remus thought of something. "Sirius," he asked, "where did you get the wand from?"
"Left it here," came the reply. "This was my emergency retreat druing the Dark Times. Bought a spare wand from Ollivander's and time sealed it here so it couldn't go forward into the present. Doesn't work nearly as well as my old one, but they snapped that, of course. I wish I had it back. It was a good wand. This one's all very well, but it has no.......crackle to it, if you see what I mean."
Remus said that he did, and the conversation turned to other things. As they were clearing up from breakfast, Remus said suddenly, "By the way, you never answered my question."
"Which one?" asked Sirius distractedly, trying to Transfigure the bowls back into pebbles again.
"When are we leaving?"
"Probably in a couple of days. I'd like to stay here as long as possible. The next retreat's on the other side of the country, and Buckbeak hurt his hoof last night as he was landing. I'd like to give him some time to recover before attempting that difficult a flight."
"Fair enough," said Remus. "Oh! That must have been the screech I heard last night."
"What screech?"
"Just before you came in, I heard a screech. It was what woke me up."
"Funny. I don't remember him making any noise. I suppose I was just a little distracted. It was quite late, after all."
"Must have been," said Remus, but all the same, he felt a twinge of uneasiness.
**********
They spent the day indoors, as Sirius explained he didn't like to go out in the daytime, in case someone saw him. That was why he had been out so late the night before; it was the only time he could safely gather food. Remus felt a little awkward suddenly, having nothing but conversation with his friend to occupy him. He was keenly aware of the long years they'd been apart. He's been through hell, thought Remus, and there's no way he can have come out unchanged. He's still Sirius, but not quite the same Sirius I knew. I'll have to be careful not to upset him. Consequently, he was somewhat at a loss as to what to talk about. It seemed unfair to rub his friend's nose in how cut off from society he'd been by talking about what had happened since his imprisonment, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. His mind was blank. Fortunately, Sirius solved his dilemma for him.
"So," he said. "Tell me about my godson."
For the next few hours, they were happily occupied talking about Harry. Sirius wanted to know everything about him; what grades he got, what his friends were like, (he had, after all, only met them very briefly), what kind of pranks he got up to, how he didin Quidditch. Remus furnished him with plenty of annecdotes, as well as news of the boy's more serious exploits, most of which he had picked up in the staffroom. This led, naturally, to talk of Harry's feud with Snape.
"Well, well, well," Sirius chuckled delightedly, as Remus told him about Harry's constant scrapes with the teacher. "He really is like his father. Glad to see our old traditions are being kept up. Snape needs somebody to loathe, or what would he do with his life?"
They ate quite late in the afternoon, and afterwards played a few games of wizard chess on the mini board Remus had brought with him. Although Remus cleared the board the first couple of games, Sirius warmed up quickly and was soon giving as good as he got. As the sun began to go down, they conceeded a draw on their final match and ate a hearty supper. Remus was rather suprised when, shortly afterwards, Sirius began to prepare for bed.
"Turning in so soon?" he asked.
"Just for a few hours," came the reply. "What with having to cater for two now - not that I mind!" he added quickly, forstalling any comment on his friend's part, "I have to lay in some more supplies. I'll go out around eleven."
"Fair enough," said Remus. Sirius was suprised to see him start to get changed.
"You can stay up if you want, you know," he said, as Remus curled up inside his sleeping roll. "You won't disturb me."
"S'alright," came the slightly muffled reply. "I'm going with you. Just because I'm staying with you, doesn't mean I shouldn't earn my keep."
Sirius was about to argue, then thought better of it. He knew his friend could be very stubborn about this kind of thing. Remus was not a man who took pride in many things, but supporting himself was one of them.
"Suit yourself," he said. "I'll wake you at eleven then, shall I?"
"'K," Remus answered, very faintly. Sirius nodded, and closed his eyes.
The wind that had been howling over the heath dropped away. Outside, Buckbeak settled gracefully in his makeshift shelter. Soon, the only sound to be heard in the hut was the quiet, rhythimical breathing of the two men, and the steady drip of rain on the thatched roof.
Calloused hands caressed him, knowing exactly where to touch, where to tease, to stroke; knowing him better that he thought possible. A black-haired head joined the hands, trailing across his chest, spiralling slowly downwards, softly calling his name -
"Remus.... Remus, wake up!" Slowly, Remus opened his eyes, to find Sirius leaning over him, hair tousled from sleep, a hand shaking his shoulder gently.
"Time for our late night raid," said Sirius. "You know, the one you refused to let me go on unaccompanied?" he added with a grin, as Remus blinked owlishly and tried to focus on his surroundings.
"Yeah, of course... just give me a minute to get dressed," yawned Remus, still trying to drag himself from the hazy dreamworld he was rather reluctant to leave.
As soon as they were both up and dressed, they went outside, Sirius placing a 'Nothing Here' charm on the hut.
"It's a much less sophisticated version of the one in Diagon Alley," Sirius explained as he finished. "Too weak to be noticed by wizarding folk, but just enough to distract any curious locals from exploring further."
"You've an excellent memory," Remus remarked. "You seem to recall much more of our schoolwork than I do."
"Come of having fewer memories between times to clutter it up," Sirius said, attempting a flippant grin and not entirely succeeding. Remus, couldn't think of an answer which wouldn't he hurtful, offensive or just plain silly, so he did the next best thing; he laid a comforting arm on his friend's shoulder and smiled gently. He was rewarded by a grateful, affectionate look from Sirius before he turned away to untether Buckbeak. The hippogriff stretched lazily, rather like a cat. Sirius made a bow, as did Remus, and Buckbeak stooped in return. Sirius mounted with practised ease, and gestured to his friend to follow him. But Remus seemed to hesitate.
"What are you waiting for?" Sirius called down.
"I've never ridden an animal bigger than a Shetland pony, and that scared me," confessed Remus, wryly. "Broomsticks are all very well, but I'm not at all sure I want to get up there."
"Well, if you prefer to go back to bed after all, then go ahead. I'll be back before you know it."
That did it. Remus bit his lip, and gingerly pulled himself on to the kneeling hippogriff.
"Too stubborn for his own good, that's my Moony," teased Sirius, relishing having the upper hand for a change. "you ready to fly? Takeoffs are usually a bit bumpy, so you might want to hang on to my waist. I promise, once we get up there, you'll really enjoy it."
Remus did as he was instructed. The closeness of his new position, combined with the jumbled memories of his dream, were doing nothing for his mental state. Fighting several conflicting urges, he had to keep reminding himself that, in the waking world, Sirius was not his lover.
Putting Remus' slight increase in breathing down to nerves, Sirius dug his heels lightly into Buckbeak's back, and the hippogriff stirred his great wings and took flight. Remus felt his stomach turn over at the sudden, rather jerky movement upwards, and screwed his eyes tight shut. However, after a minute or so, the tempo evened out, and he risked a peak at the world around him. It nearly took his breath away. The landscape below was carpeted in moonlight, which glinted off patches of water and gave the moonlight a pale, unearthly glow. The village near one of its edges showed up as a cluster of flickering lights, and shadows from the clouds above chased each other across the ground. Buckbeak beat his wings leisurely, keeping them gliding at a slow, steady pace.
Hearing Remus' involuntary gasp, Sirius grinned to himself. "Quite something, isn't it?" he said. "The best thing about flying this way is you get to admire the view."
"It's beautiful," Remus whispered, almost reverently. "Like something about of a painting, or a fairytale."
"Yeah," said Sirius. After a brief pause, he added, "Thank you."
"For what?" asked Remus, surprised.
"Being here, I guess. This kind of beauty is best if you can share it with someone... do you know what I mean?"
"Of course. Thanks for... well, for sharing it with me."
"Well, Buckbeak here doesn't really respond to these things the way you do," said Sirius, once again lightening the mood before things grew too deep. He knew that, if Remus stayed with him, then sooner or later they would have to talk seriously. They couldn't allow all the events of the past fifteen years to hand between them unsaid, it would be ridiculous. Better to confront the issues than to continually second-guess each other on them. But right now he was happy relaxing in his freind's company, and he wanted to prolong that happiness while he could.
Remus knew his friend's teasing for what it was, and didn't take it amiss. From his schooldays onwards, Sirius had laughed off any kind of meaningful talk. Remus, a very solemn child, had been offended by this at first. However, as he matured, he came to realise that this was just his friend's way of dealing with things that made him uncomfortable. Although he personally preferred those kind of things in depth, he understood Sirius' methods and respected them. Knowing his friend needed it at the moment, he kept up the light-hearted banter.
"Oh, I don't know," he said airily. "Look at him. He appreciates this as much as we do. I know an artistic soul when I see one, you know."
Sirius grinned, and decided to push his friend a little.
"You? You know nothing about art, never have done. Your taste is far too conventional, my boy. Look at poor Buckbeak, he's all offended. He doesn't want to be called artistic by someone with your view on the subject."
"Oh, and I suppose yours are better, are they?" said Remus, sniffily. It was a struggle to keep the offended tone in his voice, though, when he wanted to burst out laughing and hug his friend tightly. "You, with all your modernist learnings? Swirling colours that scream when you approach them, and sculptures that attack each other on sight? That's not art, that's chaos!"
It was a well-trodden debate between them, and it felt good to revoice the old arguments. The pair continued to torment each other happily until they reached Sirius' 'scavenging ground', as he liked to call it. Unfortunately, by this time the moon had disappeared behind the clouds, and because they didn't wan to attract unwelcome attention, they were somewhat at a loss as to how to see. Remus came up with a solution; a spell that imitated moonlight, providing them with enough illumination.
"Neat little trick, that," said Sirius appreciatively as he began to gather corn, herbs and other necessaries from the village's fields. Remus had been dubious about this at first, but Sirius had told him that he had placed plenty of growing spells on the crops, along with charms to keep away pest and attract good weather, and was merely collecting an appropriate fee. Knowing that Sirius had no other easy means of getting food, Remus agreed that this wasn't morally wrong.
"I'll teach you it sometime," he said, "in return for that cookery spell of yours."
"Done," said Sirius.
**********
Sometime later, laden with supplies, they began to fly home. Remus was surprised at how quickly the hut had become that to him. He was adrift in happy dreams of a cosily domestic life with Sirius, who was also silent, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. The moon had appeared again, softened by a thin mist, bathing the sleeping land in a silvery glow.
"A night for lovers, huh?"
"What?" said Remus, startled out of his reveries. Sirius couldn't read minds as well, surely.
"I just meant, you know, the pale moon, the quiet country landscape, the occasional nightbird's song... every cliché present and correct."
"Yeah, I guess," said Remus, as casually as he could whilst still trying to will his heart back to its normal rate.
"I've been meaning to ask you, actually. Have you got a lover? Or a ladyfriend, or whatever you want to call it? Because if you have, I wouldn't want to get in the way -"
"No, no, there's no-one," Remus interrupted hastily. "Or at least, I'm not dating anyone."
If Sirius saw the distinction between the two, he gave no sign of it. They flew on in comfortable silence, until they reached the hut. As they descended, Remus thought he saw a shape flutter away from the roof, but it was gone before he was sure it had been there in the first place. They landed with a bump, and Sirius jumped off, before offering a hand to Remus. He grasped it, swung one leg over, and slid down the hippogriff's back.
"There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" asked Sirius, leading Buckbeak to his pen.
"Was what?"
"Flying, of course, Mr. I-only-ride-Shetland-ponies."
"No, it wasn't bad at all. It was... wonderful."
"Come inside, said Sirius, gesturing to the hut door. "It's getting late."
**********
Having been woken the first time, Remus was finding it difficult to get to sleep again. Instead, he was watching his friend, sprawled on one side, mouth half-open. He watched the chest rising and falling in slow, rhythmical movements, and noticed how the worry-lines on the face eased away with sleep. He watched the tiny, restless shiftings of the limbs, and the twitching fingers closing and relaxing on the blanket. He paid rapt attention, wanting to memorise every detail of this scene and store it up, in case they were ever parted again. And that was how he heard the tiny sound his friend made.
"Remus," Sirius moaned, softly.