Chapter Text
“Damn.” Remus sighed deeply. “What can I say?”
“I don’t know, Rem. Maybe say sorry for giving up on yourself?” Sirius drummed his fingers on the couch’s armrest.
Remus looked away. “What happened to you? How’d you escape Azkaban?”
“I wrote to Albus. A better question is where were you for the Potters? How did you let James’s kid live with those muggles?” Sirius’s voice was beginning to rise.
“I tried, Pads. They wouldn’t have me, and I don’t want to force my problems onto a child.” Remus sounded tired, as if he’d had this argument with himself a thousand times.
Sirius’s drumming became more vicious as he responded. “You’re so fucking pathetic. You let the beast win. You didn’t even-”
“I fucking tried, Pads! You think I wanted to let my furry little problem win? You think I like living like shit?”
Sirius stood, punching the armrest. “You should’ve tried harder. I would’ve. James-”
“Don’t bring the Potters into this, Sirius. You’re my jailer, and you haven’t even come to see me for a week!”
“I lost everything when the Potters died, Moony. You think this is jail, try fucking Azkaban! What’d you do? Drink?”
Remus flew up, bending slightly to look Sirius in the eye. “You. Fucking. Moron. I lost everything then too? Try being a werewolf, alone! It’s pretty hard to get a job when there’s no one there to help?”
Sirius took a step forward. God, he hated having to look up at Remus when they argued. “I’m sorry, Remus, but in case you didn’t notice, I was a bit busy dying from dementors!”
Remus suddenly seemed to deflate. “I’m sorry, Pads. I hate arguing with you.”
Braced for another round of insults, Sirius was caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?”
“You’re right. I gave up. I’m sorry.”
“Bloody hell.” Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry, Moony.”
Remus crossed the room, sinking into a battered armchair. He seemed to age another five years as he stared at Sirius. “How’s James’s kid?”
“Good. He lives with me.” Sirius remained standing. “I’d like him to know his Uncle Remus.”
The wolf looked up, amber eyes meeting Sirius’s cool gray stare. “He deserves that.”
Sirius nodded. “He deserves that and more.”
Remus sat up in his chair. “You know I can’t get a job to help-”
Sirius cut him off. “I don’t care about that. You should know that.”
“I don’t want charity, Pads.”
“I’m not offering. I’ll drag you if I need to, but you will not fade again. Harry needs you. Hell, I need you, Remus.”
“I can’t promise not to drink, or not to fade, or to always be there.”
“Why the fuck not?” It was so simple to Sirius. You could either promise to do something and do it, or you had a good reason you can’t. Remus was neither.
“Because I bloody well can’t, Sirius! It’s like asking you to stop caring, to walk away from a wrong! It’s who I am, and you bloody well know it!” Remus remained a statue in his chair, but his hands gripped the armrests tight enough for his knuckles to turn white.
“I can do it!”
“Well whoop-de-fucking-do, Pads. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Sirius huffed in exasperation. “Fine. But promise me you’ll try.”
“I swear by James’s memory.”
“Good.” Sirius drew Remus’s wand, reversing it and offering it wordlessly to him.
Remus accepted the wand, pocketing it. “Thanks.” He stared at Sirius expectantly.
“What?”
“You must have something I can help with. The moon isn’t for two weeks, I’ve got time to spare.”
Sirius nodded in understanding. “Harry’s staying with an Order member for the week. I was going to try and spruce up this cottage for him. If you have anything of James and Lily’s, I think-”
“I’ll help. I’ve got a few of Lily’s things.” Remus hesitated. “I don’t know how they fared, though.”
“That’s fine. Thanks.” Sirius extended a hand, crossing the distance to reach out to him.
Remus didn’t move for a second. Then he stood and clasped Sirius’s hand in his, his grip firm.
They locked eyes for a moment. Finally, Sirius broke the silence. “C’mon, Rem. Five years, and I get a fucking handshake?”
Remus hesitated. Then, he embraced him, Sirius crushing the taller man with his bear hug. “It’s been too long, Rem.” Sirius said into his shoulder.
Remus grunted in affirmation, pulling tighter. “I fucking missed you, Pads.” His voice carried just enough to make it to Sirius’s ears. It was rough and broken, desperate for catharsis.
Sirius looked up at Remus. “Yes.”
Then Remus buried his head in Sirius’s hair once again, and all Sirius could smell was old books, coffee, and the faint scent of something wild.
Then all was still.
***
Remus awoke in the armchair to the sound of Queen blasting at an ungodly volume. Sighing, he cast a quick muffliato on himself, dulling the noise slightly, and began to search for Sirius. It didn’t take long before he found him in the guest bedroom, singing along as he assembled a cot.
Remus stepped into the room, staring at it in awe. In just a few hours, Sirius had changed the color from emerald green to near blinding Gryffindor maroon and gold, hung several posters of various muggle rock stars on the walls, and somehow procured a stuffed stag, black dog, and wolf, which were watching him build the a bed.
Sirius looked up as Remus entered the room, nodding before returning to work. “This’ll be Harry’s room,” he yelled over the roar of the record player. “Feel free to help decorate.”
Remus gave him a thumbs up before venturing from the kitchen. A quick glance at the liquor cabinet told him Sirius had locked and emptied it. “Thank god.” he muttered.
As he made himself a meager breakfast of dry cereal and toast, he smiled in spite of himself. He had missed Sirius, even with the accompanying noise.
And he thought it was incredibly adorable that Sirius had remembered stuffed animals for Harry. Remus couldn’t wait to be a part of Harry’s life. “No time like the present, I guess.” His habit of speaking to himself was coming back stronger than ever, it seemed.
Oh well. At least now he had Sirius.
And he’d make sure Harry had them, both of them. It really was the least he could do.
For now.
***
Sirius punched the air excitedly as he put the final screw into place on Harry’s new bed. It’s not quite my motorbike, but it’ll do, he thought to himself.
“Nice work.” Remus’s voice interrupted his internal celebration.
Sirius looked up, sobered. “Rem. Where’ve you been?”
The other man gestured with his head at the contents of his arms, which seemed to consist of several books, photographs, and a few scraps of paper. “Gathering these.”
Sirius rose, reaching out for the pile. “Can I?”
“Of course. Here.” Remus stepped forward, setting the meager pile on the empty desk across from him.
Sirius was wordless as he filtered through the memories, so few in number. There were barely a dozen photographs of the Marauders, and less than half that of the Potters, but they were a treasure trove.
“Sorry there aren’t more.” Remus said unnecessarily. “They’re all I have.”
Sirius waved aside his protests. “Are these all for Harry?”
Remus nodded. “The photos and books are for Harry now, though I expect he’s not old enough for the letters.”
“Thanks.”
They faded into silence again, Sirius lost in a lifetime barely past. Remus was content to watch him, watch the way he unconsciously combed his hair with his fingers as he tried to process the memories.
As Sirius sat at the desk and began reading the books and letters, Remus’s gaze began to wander. His eyes strayed to the ceiling, and before he knew it his wand was twitching, his lips reciting incantations he’d not spoken in decades.
Sirius either did not notice or did not acknowledge the werewolf’s actions as he continued to steep himself in his past. His slender fingers carefully sorted the artifacts into piles: one of the Marauders, one of James and Lily, and a smaller, much more precious stack of his and Remus’s things.
After what seemed like hours, Sirius stood. “Thank you, Moony.” Remus stirred from his magic, amber eyes focusing intently on Sirius.
“Of course. Do you have tea?” The words were so mundane, so polite they were almost infuriating to Sirius.
Sirius squared the precious stacks, turning on his heel. “Ever the professor. Follow me.”
***
They ate in silence, Remus having made teacakes. The words left unsaid chafed at Sirius, but he held his tongue. He knew just how stubborn Remus could be when it came to guilt, and the fact they hadn’t fought again was telling.
Still, it ached. Remus’s politeness irked Sirius. He wished they could just fight and make up already.
“Tell me about Harry.”
Sirius jolted, refocusing his attention on the man opposite him. He hesitated. “He’s a Potter. He always asks questions, but not in a mean way.”
He stared into Remus’s earnest expression. How to describe a child who could tear him apart with a few words and make him think he was seeing ghosts. A child who could look at him with Lily’s eyes and peek out from under James’s mop of black hair.
“Harry Potter can dissect me without knowing it. He has James’s selflessness already. He… I can’t describe it.”
Remus nodded in understanding. “How long can you stay here?”
“Harry is at the Weasley’s-they’re an Order family-for the next week or so. Afterward, I intend to move him here.”
“Then take a day to move yourself in, Pads. I know you’re fixated on Harry-and I don’t disagree-but make sure you can live here too.” Remus spoke honestly, his words jarring.
“I will.”
“Good. I’ll write, see if anyone has anything for Harry.” For us, Remus thought.
Sirius grunted in affirmation.
Several moments passed. Sirius watched Remus meticulously stir his tea with a spoon. Remus watched Sirius in the corner of his eye.
Finally, Sirius spoke. “I can’t let myself forget them.”
“You shouldn’t. I won’t.” Remus spoke gently.
“But how do I remember them? How can I remember James and Lily and Marelene and Dorcas and the poor Longbottoms and the Prewetts and-” The words exploded out of Sirius in a flood, the pent up thoughts desperate to be shared.
“Sirius. There’s time for that. Use your memories. Use all our memories. Photographs aren’t the only way to remember, Pads.”
“I’m sorry, Moony. I needed that.” Sirius deflated slightly. “You’re right.”
Sirius stood, draining his tea as he did so. “I need to move.”
Remus stood as well, moving to stand beside Sirius. “Pads. Take a break. It’s well past noon, and you’ve been working all day.”
“I need to clear my head,” Sirius began.
“Then use the bloody pensieve, Pads. But breathe.” Remus slipped a flannel-covered arm around Sirius’s shoulders. “Just take a moment. Breathe.”
Swallowing his protests, Sirius did as Remus requested. He felt the comforting weight of Remus’s arm around his shoulders, hearing the pounding in his chest slow with his breathing.
“Do you have plans for today?” Remus’s voice was steady as he held him.
“I’m going to stop by the Burrow for dinner.” Sirius mumbled, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
“Then go for a walk. Ride a broom. Paint a wall. But don’t look back at who we were, Pads. It’s not good for you right now.”
“How are you the wise one, even after I went to prison?” Sirius breathed, untangling himself from the other man.
“Being a prefect will do that to you.” Remus smiled tiredly. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
Sirius stretched, cracking his neck as he strode towards the road. “Race you!”he called, and suddenly Remus was pelting down the street side by side with Padfoot, determined to win just as he had every time on the Quidditch pitch.
He was glad, as his sides heaved and he remained undefeated, because he would run forever to keep Sirius from falling.
He’d always catch him.