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Sirius went to Godric’s Hollow first.
He could remember clear as day the house blasted half apart - the Dementors had never let him forget that one, after all. Still, whoever was taking care of Harry might have decided to keep him as close to his roots as possible. Even though those weren’t really his roots, just the place he’d spent the first year of his life. That’s what Sirius told himself when he arrived to find the house exactly the same as he’d left it twelve years and eight months ago, with no Harry in sight.
He didn’t linger at the memorial or stop to think about James and Lily. He’d had enough time alone for that, and he was relentlessly focused on the task at hand. So he went to the Potters’ farmhouse instead, then quickly dismissed it when he verified it was inhabited only by muggles, with no sign of Harry.
‘Harry Potter, raised by muggles… Mr Potter will be heading home to his family for the summer… Harry’s childhood remains shrouded in mystery.’
Sirius was working with scraps, the fragments of information he’d pieced together since Harry first appeared in the wizarding news. There was no mention of Lily’s family - fuck, Sirius couldn’t even remember who they were, every reference Lily had ever made slipping through his fingers like sand as the years wore on.
It took him two days to work up the courage to go back to his and Remus's flat. Two days he spent pacing every corner of muggle London except theirs. Remus wouldn’t be there, he told himself. He’d never have kept the flat after… not when he thought Sirius had…
He hadn’t kept it, it turned out - it didn’t even exist anymore, but had been knocked down to make way for some new, upmarket block of flats. Somehow that was the thing that finally cracked through his numbness.
James and Lily’s deaths had replayed in his mind every day for a decade, there was no doubt they were real. Every tragedy of his life had been woven into his skin until he no longer knew any other existence... Until he was standing on his and Remus's street and the memories hit him like a waterfall, drowning him in agonising, bittersweet joy that he hadn’t remembered in twelve years. A life that he really had had - and it was gone, knocked down, erased, built over as if he was never here. As if they were never here.
To Remus, he was sure, they probably weren’t.
“Where has he broken out of, though?”
“Yeah, that’s what I don’t understand.”
“All this fuss, it’s all out of nowhere - I’ve got to tell you, it feels like they’re hiding something.”
“Yes, yes, definitely.”
“It’s a dangerous situation, it’s not the time for messing about. I mean, he could be anywhere!”
Remus’s hands were shaking as he bagged his food and handed the cashier some change. He managed a brief thank you before hurtling out of the store, muggles still wringing their hands behind him. There was no escape, though - Sirius’s face was everywhere.
Well, someone who was supposed to be Sirius. It wasn’t anyone he knew, not anymore.
There was nowhere he could turn without those dead eyes staring out at him, a distorted mockery that seemed to taunt him from the page. You’ll never be rid of me, Moony. You’ll never be able to forget what I did. You’ll always be responsible for how much you failed in trusting me.
Remus’s jaw clenched. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, then hurried through the village and up the long country lane to his cottage.
He had never hated the long summer months without work so much. His muggle teaching positions rarely lasted more than a term or two, and opportunities for work within the wizarding world got thinner and thinner as prejudice against werewolves grew. So not only was he without an income, trying to make his meagre savings last until he could find more employment, but he also had absolutely no distraction from the central role Sirius Black now held within his mind.
“Come on, Moony, come with me…”
Sirius grinned at him with wicked eyes, pulling at Remus’s hand as he walked backwards along the corridor.
“You’ll never believe what I’ve found.”
“And what’s that?”
Sirius just smirked, turning round so he could lead Remus almost to the end, where a wooden door Remus had never seen before was tucked into the wall.
“Where are we?”
Sirius said nothing, just pushed open the door and waved Remus elaborately through it.
“Holy fuck.”
Remus thought he’d walked into their dorm for a moment - except instead of four beds, there was only one, and it seemed significantly bigger than his own in Gryffindor Tower. The fire was crackling gently in the corner, and when Remus saw what was on one of the wooden shelves he actually blushed.
“I found the Room of Requirement,” Sirius said proudly, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it.
“So I see,” Remus said, moving around the room in awe. “How…?”
“Dunno,” said Sirius, pushing himself off the door and sauntering towards Remus. “I just thought about what I wanted, we got that bit right - must have struck gold when it happened to be here.”
“You mean to say you were wandering along the corridor thinking about this?” Remus smirked.
Sirius shrugged, cocking an eyebrow. “Something along these lines.”
Remus slammed the kettle down onto the stove a little too hard and water spilt out the top, hitting the flames beneath with a fizz until they sputtered out. He made an angry sound in his throat, relit the flames with a flick of his wand and ran an aggravated hand through his hair.
Sirius could be anywhere. He could be on his street, hiding in the forest, waiting and watching whilst Remus remained totally unaware. Who knew what he wanted, who knew why…
Remus pulled out some potatoes from the shopping bags and began slightly haphazardly chopping them up for dinner.
It didn’t matter why Sirius had escaped. He knew, deep down, it had only ever been a matter of time. Sirius had never been capable of anything less than the extraordinary, a curse that had wracked the lives of everyone around him until there was nothing left but ashes and heartbreak. He hadn’t left Remus alone for twelve years, and he certainly wouldn’t now. Sirius had always been far, far too selfish for that.
Sirius tried Diagon Alley next. He trawled the streets as a mangy, unrecognisable stray dog, living off the scraps in the rubbish behind the Leaky Cauldron, abandoned on tables outside cafes, and every so often thrown by sympathetic strangers. He slept in doorways or down alleyways, grateful for the short, light summer nights.
He spent almost a week there, but he saw no one he knew - at least, no one he could risk trusting - and found no information on Harry’s whereabouts. He lingered around what sounded like interesting conversations, but they were only ever about him.
That was when Sirius started to get more desperate, more panicky. Even in his animagus form his emotions were still so intense after the numbness of Azbakan, their volatility overwhelming and driving him from one extreme to the other. If he couldn’t find Harry, how could he protect him? He was secreted away somewhere vulnerable to Peter’s machinations, without a single person in the wizarding world aware.
The only comfort was knowing that could mean he was hidden from Peter, too, apparently living a life of fucking luxury with a nice, friendly wizarding family. That would all change in a few weeks, though - when Harry headed back to school and there was no one between him and Wormtail. That’s where Sirius had to be.
There was no way he could apparate all the way there, not wandless and drained from Azkaban. He tried, futilely, to steal someone’s wand a couple of times, but all it led to was him being chased around Diagon Alley and gaining recognition he could not afford. So he was left with no choice, and began the long journey by foot up towards Hogwarts.
The owl from Dumbledore wasn’t a surprise. The request within it was.
“How have you been keeping, Remus?” Dumbledore asked when they sat in a quiet corner of the Three Broomsticks.
“Fine, thank you,” Remus said neutrally. “It’s been a quiet month.” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “Between terms,” Remus amended.
“Ahh, yes, of course.”
Remus sipped his soda water.
“Do you have plans for a teaching position after the summer?” Dumbledore said.
“Not currently, although I imagine I’ll return to the local college.”
Dumbledore nodded, then steepled his fingers on the table. The summer sun shone brightly on it through the windows, disturbed only by a small rectangular shadow, roughly the size of a wanted poster affixed to the pane.
“I would like to invite you to teach at Hogwarts.”
Remus’s eyes snapped to him, but Dumbledore looked perfectly serious. “Professor - excuse me, I… that’s not possible.”
“Are you otherwise engaged in September?”
“No, I - I mean it’s not possible at all. I couldn’t possibly, not with my condition…”
Dumbledore surveyed him with a slightly bemused smile. “Remus, I doubt it’s slipped your memory that you spent seven years as a werewolf without much event.”
Remus’s heart stung in a way it hadn’t in years, and suddenly a wave of anger washed through him.
“If this is about Sirius, I’m perfectly capable of keeping myself safe from him outside of Hogwarts.”
“I’m well aware of that, Remus,” Dumbledore said more quietly. “But I am offering you somewhere safer.”
Remus was quiet, his forehead creased in pain and his hands tightly clenched together.
“And in addition, I think you would make an excellent professor. We have an opening for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I cannot think of anyone more suited.”
Remus agreed to think about it. That was the most he could manage, today. He said goodbye to Dumbledore, who headed back to Hogwarts through Rosmerta’s fireplace, then meandered distractedly down through Hogsmeade, lost in his own thoughts.
What was it he was so anxious to avoid? He would probably be safer with the luxury of wolfsbane, rather than roaming the forests behind his cottage once a month. No one knew of his condition, anyway - at least aside from the professors who’d taught him - and he was more than adept at hiding his occasional absences after so many years.
Perhaps it was Harry and the guilt of facing him after so many years of absence. He could justify the first eleven years on his most cowardly days, but he had no excuse since Harry had returned to the wizarding world, Dumbledore’s ban on communicating with him had been lifted, and there was nothing but Remus’s own grief and fear between him and Harry.
How could Remus face him and admit to so much absence after what James and Lily had meant to him? After being so present for the first year of his life? After being the only one left after the tragedy that had torn James’s family apart? How could he face that past - how could he walk through the same halls they’d scuppered along at night under the Invisibility Cloak, teach in the same classroom Sirius and James had sat laughing in, look outside the window and see the same forest where they’d run together for so many years? How could he spend his days in a place he’d see Sirius at every turn?
Remus felt something heavy and soft collide with his legs. He backed away, catching his balance and apologising simultaneously - then looked down and saw the large, black dog that had haunted his nightmares for the last twelve years.
It took ten days for Sirius to reach Hogwarts. He apparated short distances when there were destinations he knew, but mostly he walked as Padfoot, sleeping under the stars and hunting rabbits or scrounging scraps for food.
With no Harry yet back at school, he took to patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade - partly for food, partly for information. The villagers’ conversations seemed much the same as in London, though - gossip about him, or nothing in particular.
In his lighter moments, he mused on what they’d think if they ever knew he’d been under their noses all along.
Mostly, though, he tried not to give into the crippling despair that was overtaking him now the adrenaline of his escape and his journey north was wearing off. He was no closer to finding Harry - in fact he was actually further away, given that Lily’s family (he thought) had always lived down south. A loneliness that he’d been numb to in Azkaban now plagued him, the ghosts of his friends surrounding him everywhere he went. He could see James laughing as he threw a snowball in the street, or Lily tipping back a cool butterbeer in the sun, or Remus covertly holding his hand when they were hidden by the crowds…
Then suddenly Remus was in front of them.
Padfoot started, his ears pricking and his tail wagging.
Remus was right there, he was… he was right there. Taller, somehow - or maybe it was just because Padfoot was so low to the ground. So much older and thinner and sadder; his chest curled in on itself, his eyes fixed on the floor as if his whole body was weighed down with sorrow. But… it was still him. Same sharp eyes, same dusty brown waves, same smell, wafting through the air to Padfoot’s hypersensitive nose.
That was what broke him; that was cut through every ounce of heartbreak and anger and fear until all he could feel was longing. His legs moved almost of his own accord, weaving through the crowd trying to keep Remus in his sight. Padfoot craned his head, searching anxiously for him - and then suddenly two long, bony and very human legs collided with him, and the sound of Remus’s voice met his ears for the first time in over a decade.
“Oh, sorry, I’m so sor-”
Remus froze, his mouth open in shock, his eyes wide with more than a little fear and something that seemed a lot like relief.
Then Remus’s mind caught up with reality, and he snapped backwards, shaking his head slightly as he stared at Padfoot. He couldn’t help the tiny whine of disappointment, his ears drooping at the stabbing rejection of comfort. Confusion flitted across Remus’s face.
“Sirius?” he whispered.
Padfoot’s ears flicked up and he gave a tiny wag of his tail.
“Why are you - what do you want?”
Padfoot watched him for a moment, saw the faintest glimmer of hope and curiosity behind the maelstrom in Remus’s eyes, then cocked his head and began trotting back down the road out of Hogsmeade. He paused when he was a few metres away, turning back to look at Remus who was still frozen on the spot. Padfoot gave a small woof of encouragement, then continued on down the street, his ears standing on end at the sound of Remus following him slowly behind.
By the time they’d left the village, he was trotting alongside Remus, glancing anxiously up to make sure he wasn’t walking away. Remus was silent, his hand clenched inside his robes around his wand as they walked. He smelt so strongly of fear and adrenaline it made Padfoot want to rub against his legs and butt his hand until Remus understood he was safe, and he was needed.
“Are we really…?” Remus paused, hesitating anxiously when the Shack came into view. Padfoot looked round at him and gave a soft woof. “Sirius, if you think I’m stupid enough to…”
Padfoot nodded pointedly to where Remus’s hand was gripping his wand, and Remus twitched.
“Fine. But one wrong move and I’m gone.”
Padfoot made an expression remarkably akin to an eye roll, and then they walked on up the hill until they reached the Shack. He darted round the back, followed by a wary Remus, and climbed in through a hole in the decaying wood until they were encased within the dim, dusty house. Bright sunlight was visible through the cracks in the walls and boarded-up windows, but other than that they stood in the gloom, silent except for the distant rustle of trees outside.
“Incandeso,” Remus murmured, and a small ball of light appeared in his hands, which he promptly threw into the air, letting it cast a warm glow over the room.
His eyes moved back to Padfoot, narrowing suspiciously.
“Do you have something to show me?”
“I do, as a matter of fact,” Sirius said hoarsely.
Remus gave a sharp intake of breath and took a half step back - and then suddenly they were standing facing each other, for the first time in twelve long years.
“Here,” Sirius said gruffly. Remus watched, heart hammering, as he reached into the dirty, oversized robes he was wearing on top of his prison uniform. Remus whipped out his wand instinctively and brandished it at Sirius, who jumped back in surprise with his hands held up.
“Remus,” he said pleadingly. The sound of his name from Sirius’s lips cut through Remus like a knife. His wand faltered, and for a moment all he wanted to do was pull him into his arms.
“It’s just this - look,” Sirius said, waving what looked like a torn newspaper clipping in his hand.
“What’s that?” Remus asked, stepping forward.
“It’s Peter,” Sirius said urgently.
Remus’s eyes snapped up to him and saw a fiery, manic look in Sirius’s eyes. “Sirius…” Remus began warningly. “Don’t.”
“Remus look!” Sirius insisted, jabbing at the picture of a wizarding family on the paper. “Look at the boy, there’s a rat on his shoulder. It’s him.”
Remus frowned, taking the clipping from him and inspecting it, his eyes darting nervously between the photo and Sirius, who was watching him expectantly. His eyes found the small animal sitting on the shoulder of a boy who looked around thirteen, standing in the middle of the photo amongst beaming family members. The rat was wriggling, slightly, its whiskers twitching. Remus’s frown deepened; he brought the paper closer to his face, squinting at the picture - and his breath froze in his chest.
“No…” he whispered. He shook his head, eyes fixed on the tiny rat in front of him. One ear was slightly clipped from the time he got in a fight with a rabbit, markings on his nose that perfectly imitated Peter’s freckles, the slight movement from side to side that was so distinctively anxious…
“How…?”
Sirius pressed his lips together, watching Remus with a flashing, desperate expression.
“It wasn’t… you didn’t?”
Sirius slowly shook his head.
Remus felt something rushing loudly in his ears, the past rearranging itself so fast the world seemed to spin around him. But if Sirius didn’t kill him, then why was Peter…?
“He was the spy,” Remus said numbly, his voice barely loud enough to carry across the small distance between them.
Sirius nodded, the passion in his eyes softening mournfully into heartbreak.
Remus didn’t think, didn’t speak - he just stepped forward and threw his arms around Sirius, holding him close so tightly he swayed on the spot.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… oh god….”
“Remus…” Sirius said weakly.
Remus clung onto him, pressing his head into Sirius’s bony shoulder. Sirius made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a sigh and sank into his chest with shaky hands wound in his robes. The world stopped around them, everything disappearing except for aching longing and desperation for comfort that they could both finally, finally give into. He never wanted to let go... he didn't want anything else - for a moment nothing else mattered.
“We have to find him,” Sirius gasped and reality came crashing back. Remus reluctantly loosened his grip on Sirius, just enough for them to look at each other again. “Harry’s not safe.”
“Surely not…” The words caught in his throat as realisation slammed into him. Peter had been working for Voldemort, he’d sold their friends to him. Silly, anxious, loyal Peter.
“He killed them, Remus,” Sirius said urgently, the manic freneticism back in his eyes as he pulled at the front of Remus’s robes.
“Yes, I know,” Remus replied quietly, gently taking Sirius’s hands from his robes. “I understand.”
“We have to find him.”
“We’ll find him.”
“We have to find him now, Remus!”
“Sirius, we can’t - we cannot just burst into the home of that family and take their rat,” Remus told him.
Sirius made an aggravated noise and attempted to run a hand through his matted, unrecognisable hair. Something caught in the back of Remus’s throat.
“I can fucking steal a rat as Padfoot!” Sirius insisted. “Just tell me where that family are!”
“I don’t know where they are, Sirius, but that doesn’t matter - you would not be able to steal a rat from someone’s home without getting caught.”
Sirius swiped his hand through his hair in irritation. “You think I haven’t stolen from homes before?”
“This is different,” Remus said firmly. “There’s no room for error.”
Sirius’s eyes exploded. “You think I don’t bloody know that?” he screamed. “After my fucking mistake killed Lily and James? After I believed a traitor? After twelve fucking years of Azkaban?!”
“Sirius, I- ”
“Twelve years, Remus! Twelve years because that murderous piece of shit fucked me over!”
Voices suddenly sounded from outside, and the two of them froze.
“Shit.”
“There's people here - we have to go,” Remus said urgently, reaching towards Sirius. He was ignoring him, hastily grabbing the clipping which had fallen to the floor in their embrace. “Sirius, take my hand.”
“I’ve gotta go,” Sirius said as he leapt up, eyes flashing in panic.
“Yes, come with me!”
Sirius ignored him. “Meet me back here tomorrow,” he told him.
“Sirius, no - you’ll be safer with me.”
“Tomorrow,” Sirius repeated insistently.
“I… yes…” Remus said helplessly, hand still outstretched as Sirius disappeared with a crack.
Sirius collapsed at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, panting. He checked over his body, moving his shaking limbs experimentally, and found by some miracle he hadn’t splinched himself. He leant back against a tree, seeking safety in its shadows as he waited for his heart rate to come back to normal.
His mind was moving so fast he wanted to scream. Even when he clutched it in his hands it wouldn’t stop - Remus, Harry, Remus, Peter, James, Azkaban, Remus…
Sirius transformed without thinking, slipping into his more peaceful animagus form and whining softly as he nestled down in the grass. He’d be safe here, for a few hours at least - then he could get some food, and figure out a plan.
Remus, Harry, Remus, Remus…
Padfoot made his way up to the Shack as soon as the sun rose, but Remus was already there.
“Did you sleep here?” Sirius asked, taking in his exhausted state, skin pale except for huge, dark bags under his eyes.
“No,” Remus told him wearily. “I went home. But I didn’t sleep.”
Sirius nodded.
“I’ve been thinking,” he began. “If we can get to the family outside of their house, we can grab Wormtail straight from them. You saw it on the boy’s shoulder, the rat clearly travels with them.”
Remus was staring at him oddly.
“Sirius, you cannot just attack a child.”
Sirius frowned. “It’s not attacking, it’s just - I’ll grab it straight from his shoulder.”
Remus gaped at him.
“Don’t look at me like that!”
“Sirius, you are a wanted murderer.”
“Well not as a dog I’m not.”
“What do you think’ll happen when they catch you? How long until they figure out you’re an animagus?”
“They’re not going to catch me,” Sirius said derisively.
“Of course they will!” Remus said angrily. “If you attack someone’s child they’ll stun you before you’ve even hit the ground!”
Sirius was silent, his jaw clenched.
“We have to get Wormtail without force,” Remus said, visibly trying to calm himself. “Or at least without their knowledge.”
“Alright,” Sirius said grumpily, sticking his hands in his pockets. “You wanna invite yourself over there for tea?”
“I want to approach this with some planning, and not just go leaping in hoping for the best!”
“You know what, I can do this on my own,” Sirius said angrily, waving a derisive hand at him.
“Sirius, no-” Remus said, leaping forward as if worried Sirius was about to disapparate.
“I don’t need your bloody interference, Remus!”
“So why is it you came and found me, then?” he asked irritably.
“Honestly right now I’ve got no fucking clue.”
“Do you really think this is going to help Harry?”
“Do you know where he is?” demanded Sirius.
“No, I…” Remus faltered. “No, I don’t. He’s with his family.”
“And you don’t know where they live?” Sirius asked, calming down slightly in his confusion.
“No. He’s… well, he’s completely isolated.”
Sirius pursed his lips together. “I thought he - I thought that was just from everyone else, I didn’t think that was from…” He looked at Remus with no small amount of heartbreak. “We’re all he has left.”
Remus’s jaw clenched like he was trying to hold back anger from an old wound. “Dumbledore forbade anyone from contacting him. He said it was for Harry’s safety.”
“Forbade?” Sirius said furiously.
“Yes, Sirius, forbade. And he was able to.”
“And you never tried - you just accepted it?”
“I had no choice, Sirius!”
Sirius gaped at him incredulously. “That’s James and Lily’s son! You just abandoned him!”
“What do you think would have happened if I went up against Dumbledore? Do you think I’d have any chance of ever reaching Harry again? He wanted him kept away from everyone until he started Hogwarts and I thought - I thought it was for the best,” Remus admitted miserably. “To let him have a nice life away from all the… fucking misery that surrounded the rest of us.”
Sirius was quiet, watching the heartbreak in Remus’s eyes and feeling his world shift to accommodate this new window into tragedy. He’d spent so long with so little information, assumptions and speculations rattling around his head until they solidified into fact. It was too much to make sense of in one go.
“I don’t understand why you didn’t go and find him when he started Hogwarts,” Sirius said.
Remus sighed. “Because I didn’t think there was any good I could add to his life.”
“He’s their son,” Sirius said in despair.
“Yes. And I am a werewolf who drags everyone else down by association, who was best friends with their murderer for ten years and still didn’t manage to do anything to stop him,” Remus said coolly.
Sirius’s face tensed and he looked away.
“I am not apologising. I would never - I can never apologise for it. Any of it…”
“Okay,” Sirius said quietly. “Fine. You don’t know where he is. But you’ve still got a better chance of finding him and Peter than I do, so we need to work together.”
Remus nodded. “Yes, I - I think you should come home with me.”
Sirius looked at him in surprise. “What?”
“I have a house. You can stay there whilst we figure this out.”
“No, no,” Sirius said, waving that suggestion away. “I’m fine where I am. Harry’ll be here soon.”
Remus stared at him in disbelief. “Sirius, you’re on the run from the Ministry, there’s nowhere safe for you here.”
“I’ve got a pretty handy disguise, Remus.”
“You don’t need to - Sirius, you don’t need to live on the rough hunting rabbits,” Remus said. His voice was full of exasperation, but Sirius could see the anguish in his eyes.
“I don’t want to put you in danger," he admitted.
“You won’t,” Remus said simply. Sirius gave him a look, and he sighed, rolling his eyes. “I don’t care.”
“Well I do. I happen to have some experience with what Azkaban’s like.”
“Nobody’s going to Azkaban,” Remus said tersely. “I have a cottage in the middle of Shropshire, and there’s barely anyone nearby because I don’t want to raise suspicion at the full moon.”
Sirius eyed him warily, but Remus could see he was relenting.
“Please, Sirius.”
Remus watched as Sirius walked into his cottage in something of a daze, glancing nervously over his shoulder as if someone was about to lock him in. Remus’s heart clenched, and he bit his lip as he tried to hold himself together.
“It’s fine, it’s perfectly safe,” he said gently.
“The muggles don’t know you’re here?”
“They do,” Remus said easily. “A few, at least. But they rarely bother me, and they’re friendly when they do.”
Sirius eyed his cottage suspiciously, taking in the small country kitchen in the corner, the scrubbed wooden table, the worn sofa and armchairs around the fire with red tartan blankets thrown over them, Shabbat candlesticks over the fireplace next to photos of his parents, and the haphazard bookshelves containing a plethora of magical instruments, rolls of parchment, old leather-bound volumes, Judaica, and a small but unmistakable lunascope. It was nice; it was home.
It was suddenly the most achingly lonely place he’d ever been, seeing Sirius standing in the middle.
“Come and sit down,” Remus said, resting his hand gently on Sirius’s back and leading him towards the sofa. “I’ll make some food.”
Remus dug out some bolognese from the fridge and tipped it into a saucepan to reheat, then rummaged around in the larder for some pasta.
“This place is nice,” Sirius said, as Remus poured the pasta into another pan.
“Thank you.”
“You live alone?”
The casualness was too forced, Sirius’s tone too high, his voice catching on the last word.
“Yes,” Remus said eventually. “Just me.”
Sirius made a noncommittal noise from the sofa.
Remus poured hot water over the pasta and watched it come to a boil, trying to ignore the sounds of Sirius fidgeting in the background.
“You still light these?”
Remus turned round to see Sirius examining the candlesticks on his mantelpiece. How many times had he watched him light those candles, muttering his own version of the blessings in a language Remus didn’t understand but never stopped the reverence of shared tradition.
“I do.”
Remus put the lid on the simmering pasta and walked over to where Sirius was running his finger over the small gold candlestick holders.
“Think I stopped believing in God a long time ago,” he muttered.
“It’s not about God. It’s about having one day of… peace. From it all.”
Sirius looked up at him sharply, and his eyes darkened with sympathy when he saw Remus’s broken, weary expression.
“Remus…”
“Don’t,” he said quickly, waving Sirius’s words away. He couldn’t deal with Sirius’s attempts at comfort, not when Remus was the one who’d left him in prison to rot. Not when the real betrayer was still on the loose.
Sirius wolfed down his food whilst explaining between mouthfuls his journey since he’d left Azkaban. Remus sat mostly agape, staring at him in awe and shaking his head as he tried to comprehend it all.
“But that place is supposed to sap a wizard of all their magic… I don’t understand how you were still able to transform…”
Sirius shrugged. “It’s how I spent most of the first year. And I think it kept me sane, stopped me from losing my powers. So from then on, I could… control it, I guess. Knew when to slip into Padfoot when it was all getting a bit much.”
Sirius took a big gulp of water whilst those last words sat between them.
“Why didn’t you… you’re telling me you were able to transform all this time… then why didn’t you do this sooner?”
Sirius surveyed him, his eyes emptying for a moment as he disappeared somewhere Remus couldn’t see.
“I had no reason,” he said in a dead voice. “I was hopeless. That’s still - well that’s what the place does to you, even if I found a way to hide from the worst of it."
What about Harry? Remus wanted to say. What about me?
Except then he remembered, of course, that he’d left Sirius cold and alone in that cell. What reason would he have had to fight his way out for someone he meant nothing to?
They ate the rest of the meal in silence after that, with Sirius working through second and then third portions until he sat awkwardly at the table whilst Remus cleared the dishes, unsure of what to do.
“Would you like to take a shower? Or a bath?” Remus asked carefully.
“Hmm?” Sirius said, pulling himself out of his reverie.
“I have one, it’s very comfy.”
Sirius blinked, considering this. He examined his dirty, chapped hands and seemed for the first time realise his decrepit state.
“Oh… yeah. Yeah might as well.”
Sirius followed Remus up at stairs slowly, his eyes darting around the pictures on the wall and the doors along the corridor, then he sat on the loo seat, fidgeting awkwardly as Remus began to run him a bath.
“Bubbles?”
Sirius stared at him, silent and overwhelmed.
“I… come here,” Remus said gently. He reached for Sirius’s hands and gently pulled him up off the loo seat, then ran his fingers over Sirius’s chest to find the front of his robes and rolled them gently off him.
“Thanks,” Sirius husked. He looked down at his shirt and began struggling to pull it off, until Remus wordlessly cut the fabric down the middle and slid it off his arms.
Sirius put his hands on his chest, running them over skin so embedded with dirt it had changed colour entirely. He stared at it, transfixed.
“I haven’t seen it properly in…” Sirius swallowed. “There’s cold showers, changes of clothes every so often. But even when I… at some point, it’s just easier to pretend you’re not in your own body.”
Remus rested a hand over his. “You’re here now. Right here with me.”
Sirius gave him a weak smile, and brought his other hand over Remus’s.
“I don’t know what to do, I…” he said falteringly, glancing over at the bath. “Can you… can you help?”
“Yes, yes of course. Can you get these off?” he asked, nodding at Sirius’s ratty trousers.
“Yeah, I got it.”
Remus turned away and busied himself with taking off his own jumper and rolling up his shirtsleeves whilst Sirius finished undressing. When he turned back round he had to bite back a gasp; even through the dirt marring Sirius’s back he could see the protruding spine, the deep scratches.
“Okay,” he said, walking over to rest a hand against Sirius’s back. “Test the water with your foot, see how it feels.”
Sirius tipped his toes hesitantly in the water and winced with a hiss.
“Is it too hot?”
“No, no it’s fine,” Sirius said, letting his foot sink back into the water until he was immersed up to his calf.
“Alright, other one.”
Remus kept his hand on Sirius’s back as he unsteadily stepped fully into the bath, and watched as it turned slightly murky around his feet.
“I can refill it, don’t worry,” Remus reassured him. “Just let yourself soak in this one for a bit.”
Sirius lowered himself into the bath until he was half-submersed, cloudy water lapping at his filthy chest.
“Yeah, alright,” he breathed. “This is pretty nice.” He gave a small laugh, leaning his head back against the tiles.
Remus smiled. “You can lie there for a bit, if you want - or I’ve got a flannel.”
“Er, yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”
He took the washcloth from Remus, but then he froze, holding it in trembling hands as he stared at his skin, as if unable to engage in such an act of care.
“Alright, come on, let me,” Remus said softly. Sirius nodded, letting Remus take the flannel from his hands.
He started from Sirius’s shoulders, moving delicately and slowly as Sirius adjusted to the feel of someone else’s touch on his skin. Dirt fell away as he moved, and Remus had to wring the flannel out in the bath water every few seconds; but even then Sirius's skin remained dirty and marred, years of damage etched into him.
Sirius watched him at the start, lifting his arm for Remus as he wiped the flannel down it, then eventually let his eyes flutter shut, leaning back against the tiles as Remus moved down his body. Familiar tattoos started to appear as his skin cleared, sending such a jolt of yearning recognition Remus’s chest crumbled.
It was Sirius. It was really him, here in front of him.
Remus’s hands faltered when he reached Sirius’s hips and the mass of hair in between his legs. Sirius was unbothered, his eyes still shut, but it just seemed too much. He settled for a brief swipe, then continued onto his thighs, massaging the skin tenderly all the way down to his feet, until Sirius lay in muddy brown water, the cream of his skin now starkly distinguishable against it.
“I’m going to empty this and run another one,” Remus said, jolting Sirius out of his daze
“Hmm?”
Sirius looked down at his skin, staring at it in amazement as Remus pulled the plug. Remus avoided his eyes as he emptied the bath, swirling the water briefly around Sirius to clear the silt, before refilling it again, this time with a small measure of bubble bath.
“What a luxury,” Sirius said dryly, with a small smile. Remus returned it, but didn’t miss the uneasy look in Sirius’s eyes, seemingly becoming overwhelmed again with so much attentiveness.
“Are you okay?”
Sirius bit his lip. “I don’t… I’m not…” He took a raspy breath. “Moony, it’s too much, by myself.”
Remus’s breath hitched at the name. There had been an impassable barrier between them, a gulf filled with unspoken words about everything that had transpired since 1981; but now Sirius was staring at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, and Remus felt himself leap into the breach.
He silently took off his shirt, moving slowly in case Sirius changed his mind - but he remained quiet, so Remus stood up and rid himself of the rest of his clothes, pushing them into a corner by the bath.
Sirius was looking up at him, almost unblinking. Remus didn’t feel exposed, though. For the first time since Sirius had found him he felt seen.
“Budge up a bit,” he said gently, nudging at Sirius’s back. He leaned forward, letting Remus slowly climb in behind him and slide down until Sirius was between his thighs, their long legs pressed together and Sirius’s back almost touching his chest.
Remus took a breath, then placed his hands gently on Sirius’s waist. He wanted to cry, for a moment, feeling Sirius’s soft and vulnerable body between his hands.
Sirius’s breath hitched slightly - then he rested a hand on Remus’s and squeezed it tightly. Remus was still waiting for him to ask for what he needed - Sirius had always asked, begging Remus for attention before he even knew why, pleading with him to curl up under the covers together, burrowing under his arm on the sofa. But now he was silent, frozen, trapped by his own fear.
“Come here.”
Remus tightened his arms around Sirius, pulling them flush together until Sirius’s back was pressed against his chest, his ass nestled against his crotch. Remus wound a leg over his and leaned forward to press a tender kiss against Sirius’s shoulder.
“The bubbles are nice, yes?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah…” Sirius let out a breath, sinking further back against Remus. “Yeah, they are.”
Sirius woke up with a start, his body alerting him to the suffocation of someone else’s limbs wrapped around him. He jerked away, shoving off the arm over his waist.
Remus murmured something, shifting slightly, and Sirius stilled. He took a deep breath, his heart hammering frantically in his chest. It was just Remus. He was in Remus’s bed. He’d fallen asleep here, and now he’d woken up here, and he was fine. He was safe.
Sirius watched Remus's sleeping face, the same face he’d known for twenty-two years, the same face he’d imagined again and again alone in his cell; except it wasn’t - it had lines Sirius didn’t recognise, a roughness alien to the smooth skin of his youth, tawny waves that were thinner and faded. He wasn’t the Remus he knew - he wasn’t the Remus he wanted, and suddenly the bed was again unbearably suffocating, and he launched himself out from under the covers without a second thought.
Remus’s house was eerily silent in the early morning and chillier than he expected. He grabbed an errant cardigan left on a chair and threw it over his oversized pyjamas, before standing restlessly in the centre of the room. The claustropohia was still there, though, and his legs carried him instinctively to the back door and out into Remus’s garden.
As soon as the fresh air hit him Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. It was clean, earthy - not a taste of salt detectable.
“Sirius?”
He whipped round to see Remus standing in the doorway in his dressing gown, looking concerned.
“Oh, there you are. Sorry, I woke up and you were…” He broke off, his jaw clenching, and Sirius wondered whether he was angry or simply trying to stay in control.
“Pretty nice here,” Sirius observed, looking out at the long garden, beyond which lay a rolling valley and the edge of a dark forest.
“Yes, it is. Very quiet.”
“Mm. Well, let’s have some breakfast and get going then.”
Remus eyed him warily for a moment, then nodded, and headed back inside.
“We need to find out who they are. These Weasleys,” Sirius insisted through a mouthful of eggs.
Remus blinked at him, and Sirius felt the air around them tense.
“What?”
“Molly and Arthur. They were in the Order.”
Sirius looked away, his face colouring and memories rushing through his mind. “Fuck,” he whispered.
Remus didn’t say anything, didn’t try to pretend it was okay, and he was grateful for that.
“Yeah, I… yeah.”
“I don’t know where they live, though. I haven’t been in contact with them in years. I suppose I could find some pretext…”
“Yeah, if we can just get inside their house,” Sirius said more energetically. “We can find some excuse to grab the rat.”
“How in the world are we going to take him away, though?” Remus asked.
Sirius shrugged. “Stick him in our pockets and leave.”
“No, we can’t risk any trouble,” Remus insisted, with a sharp shake of his head.
“Are you kidding? This is the piece of shit after Harry! Who killed our friends! I broke out of fucking Azkaban to get him and you don’t want to risk any trouble?”
“That’s exactly why, Sirius,” Remus said firmly, his eyes flashing. “The consequences of anything going wrong would be deadly. If Peter realises we’re after him he’ll scarper. If you get caught, you won’t get out alive. You’re the most wanted person in Britain, Sirius, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. I couldn’t then, and I certainly can’t now.”
Sirius stared at him in shock, the words cutting through him like a knife. Remus seemed to realise what he’d said too, and looked away, fiddling with his cutlery.
“You tried to stop them?” Sirius asked hoarsely, something choking up his voice against his will.
Remus closed his eyes for a moment.
“Yes, I did.”
His expression wavered, like the emotions he was trying to control were simmering just beneath the surface.
“What happened?”
Remus sighed. “Sirius… can we not do this right now. We have - we have to focus.”
Sirius’s heart clenched, but he nodded, burying the pain of a freshly opened wound as far down as he could.
“Let’s think about this backwards, instead,” Remus said more calmly. “What’s the last step? Where are we going to take Peter once we’ve captured him?”
“The Ministry.”
“Yes, but how? You can’t walk up there with him, and I’m not sure I can, either. The Ministry distrusts werewolves more than ever, and with something like this… Well, I think it would be very easy for Peter to convince them he was hiding from me.”
“Dumbledore.”
Remus was quiet, but he didn’t look surprised. Sirius got the impression he wasn’t the first one who’d considered this idea.
“He trusts you. Take Peter to Dumbledore, once he sees he’s alive he’ll realise something’s up. Veritaserum Peter… Dumbledore’ll convince the Ministry when he knows the truth.”
Something painful flickered behind Remus’s eyes, but it was gone the moment it appeared.
“Alright. Yes. That seems a realistic option.”
“So I guess I’ll go back to Hogwarts and wait there, then,” Sirius said easily.
“What?” Remus asked.
“Well that’s what I was planning on doing, you know. If I couldn’t find Harry beforehand - go there and keep an eye out, make sure Peter doesn’t try anything, and grab that bastard when he’s in my sights.”
“Sirius… I…” Remus was staring at him, dumbfounded. “Where are you going to live, to start with?”
“I’m a dog, Moony, I can live anywhere.”
“That’s… okay, that aside - Wormtail will be inside, with his owner. You can’t go breaking into the school and attack some kid for his rat.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning on attacking the kid,” Sirius pointed out. “I’ll just corner Wormtail when they aren't around. Come on, that bastard’s gonna spend half his time lazing around in the dorms. Cushy little life,” he added bitterly.
“Sirius - no.”
“Yes, Remus. Yes.”
“This is madness.”
“Yep, that’s what they tell me,” Sirius said dryly.
Remus made a noise of irritation in his throat and got up angrily from the table.
“No, this is not - this is not the right option.”
“Please, enlighten me with another one you have!”
Remus’s jaw clenched, and Sirius watched him carefully.
“Dumbledore has asked me to teach Defense this year.”
“At Hogwarts?”
“No, Sirius. At Beauxbatons.”
“Why?”
“He said… well…” Remus paused, looking sad and uncomfortable. “It was an offer to keep me safe.”
They were both silent, for a beat.
“From me?” Sirius asked quietly.
“Yes.”
Sirius hung his head, staring at the veins in the wood on the table.
“I haven’t given him an answer, yet.”
“Why?” Sirius asked, looking back up at him.
“I wasn’t sure Hogwarts was quite the place I wanted to be, this year.”
Something cracked in Sirius at that. It was too much - too much longing, too much to know Remus had yearned for him just as Sirius had in return.
“Fuck, Moony,” he said, then leapt up from the table and threw his arms fiercely around Remus. He stiffened, for a moment, then hugged Sirius just as tightly back, hands gripping onto Sirius’s borrowed cardigan as he pressed their cheeks together.
“I just couldn’t bear seeing you everywhere,” Remus choked out.
Sirius squeezed him tighter still, burying his head in his shoulder.
“Moony…”
Remus’s breath caught in something like a cry.
“I missed you,” Sirius said, pulling back to look at Remus’s heartbroken, shining eyes. “I…” It wasn’t enough - no words could ever be enough. “God… I missed you.”
They rested their foreheads together, sharing shaky breaths as they tried to keep themselves from falling apart. Remus caressed his cheeks, fingers slowly tipping Sirius’s jaw up until he could brush their lips together.
It was the most familiar thing he’d ever felt. It was home. It was so, so much.
“I can’t… not right now…” Sirius whispered.
“I’m sorry…”
“No, don’t stop,” he said quickly, tightening around Remus as he tried to pull away. “Don’t stop, I need…”
Sirius kissed him back, deeper this time, with a hunger that was slowly returning to him.
“What?” Remus gasped.
“I don’t know…” Sirius said, moving wetly against his mouth. “Just don’t stop… please…”
Remus didn’t. He opened up, cautiously and lovingly, letting Sirius sink into his affection. Sirius took everything he could, losing himself in their kiss as his hands ran over Remus’s body, caressed his skin, and tangled in his hair. He could feel Remus begin to come apart under his fingers, emitting tiny whimpers and gasps and murmured endearments.
Time disappeared around them. They weren’t going anywhere, heading towards something; they were just lost in their need to feel each other’s tenderness and affection on their skin. Remus nudged them at some point towards the sofa, and they lay curled up into each other, languishing in slow kisses and the warmth of their entwined bodies.
Sirius could feel Remus hard under his thigh, and for a moment he tried to summon something … but he was still so lost in the depths and the numbness it forced him into.
“If I take the job,” Remus said quietly, when Sirius’s head was resting against his chest. “Then you can come with me. We can find him together.”
“What, as your dog?”
“Yes, I think that would work.”
Sirius made a slightly indignant noise.
“I’ll be a wonderful owner, I promise.”
Sirius snorted, and Remus chuckled under him, running his hands up and down Sirius’s back.
“Moony, I… That puts you in so much danger, though. If anyone finds out…”
“Well, then they can’t find out.”
Sirius looked up at him and caught the intensity in Remus’s eyes. He saw the promise within them, and the trust he was asking for in return.
“Alright,” Sirius said. And then, as if needing to lighten the enormity of what was now weighing on them, he added, “But I’m not wearing a collar.”
Remus snorted it, tangling his fingers through the tendrils of hair around Sirius’s neck. “We’ll see about that.”
Remus owled Dumbledore later that day, and they met the following morning to discuss some of the practicalities.
“I have, er, an assistance dog. It’s a muggle thing, but I’ve found it helpful with the full moons,” Remus explained.
Dumbledore surveyed him for a moment, and Remus shut down his mind instinctively; but he felt no tell-tale signs of intrusion, and instead Dumbledore gave him an understanding smile.
“I’m sure they will be very popular with the students.”
Remus fought back a sigh of relief, but he collapsed onto the sofa weakly when he arrived home.
“God, how did we lie to him for so many years?” Remus asked, running an anxious hand through his hair.
Sirius tipped his head back with a laugh.
“Too smart for our own good. And we had the map. Could kill for that now.”
“I’m sure it’s in the hands of some very appreciative students, somewhere.”
“Never know, it might still be in Filch’s office,” Sirius mused, stretching an arm out behind Remus.
“I’m sure someone managed to steal it in the last fifteen years. I’d be incredibly disappointed in our successors, otherwise.”
They shared a mischievous grin, and Sirius rubbed his fingers fondly against Remus’s shoulder.
“Well, you’re a professor, now. You can confiscate whatever you want.”
“Very true.”
“Don’t let the power go to your head, though. I remember what you were like as a prefect.”
“I was a terrible prefect,” Remus told him. “I didn’t have any interest in the rules unless they were a benefit to us.”
“Well, I definitely remember you strategically employing them for your own ends.”
The flirtatious lilt was unmistakable, and Remus fought to suppress a full-body shiver. Sirius looked away quickly, and cleared his throat.
“Anyway - that’s exactly the kind of attitude we need, Moony.”
With their plan settled, there was not much more they could do than wait until term started. This left them in the bizarre situation of living together, with every part of Remus’s day now shared with a man he thought until only a few days ago had committed the greatest betrayal of his life.
Sirius had, still, in some way - it wasn’t lost to Remus what the secret with Peter and James had meant, that Sirius had believed him to be the spy, and all those dreadful last months of their relationship broke his heart for a new and different way. Remus could feel the simmering anger in Sirius, too; the bitterness buried for a decade that threatened to burst out at any moment.
Their days oscillated between intimacy and distance, with moments of clinging to each other with tenderness and desperation - then times where they couldn’t bear to be in the same room for the unspoken tension, and Padfoot would usually disappear off into the valleys for hours. He’d arrive back to an anxious Remus, but then the anger between them melted when Padfoot rested his nose on Remus’s leg, and he hauled him up onto the sofa to bury his hands in his fur.
They talked about everything and nothing; about Remus’s lessons, how to act around Harry, plans for cornering Wormtail. They didn’t talk about Azkaban, or 1981, or James and Lily.
They didn’t talk about the two of them, not for a second. But what could they have said, anyway? And what would it matter in the face of everything more important they had to do?
“Moony,” Sirius whispered in the dark, rolling into him with an arm across his chest and their legs tangled together. They slept entwined like that, Remus falling asleep to the scent of Sirius’s skin and the sound of his uneven breathing. Sometimes they kissed long and slow into the night, just to feel each other close. It was so easy, so natural, so wonderful that Remus never thought about the boundaries blurred, or the ones not crossed.
Until one night Sirius’s kisses grew more frantic and his hands began clutching at Remus’s body more desperately, searching urgently for something his uncoordinated body couldn’t quite find.
“I want to be closer, but I can’t… they’re in my head…”
“Ssh, ssh,” Remus reassured him, kissing lightly on his throat. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“But Moony I want…”
Remus pulled back, looking down at Sirius as he breathed heavily on top of him. Sirius was panting too, his eyes shot with desire even through the gloom.
“I want you, like we used to,” Sirius said brokenly.
It snatched the breath from Remus’s throat. He felt like his chest was being crushed under the force of such bittersweet love.
“But we’re not like we used to be, are we?” Sirius asked.
Remus pressed his lips together, trying to hold back a small cry, and slowly shook his head.
“No, we’re not,” he admitted croakily. Then he shifted his weight to run a hand through Sirius’s hair, so much smoother and healthier than just a few weeks ago. “But you can have me now. You can have me as I am now. If that… if that’s what you still want…”
Sirius stared up at him, lost for a moment in his own darkness; until he must have found what he was looking for, because he snuck a tentative hand around Remus’s neck and brought their mouths back together, kissing him with such unabashed tenderness it made Remus’s heart sing.
He spent hours with soft lips and hands over Sirius’s body, coaxing him, reassuring him, reminding him there was nothing he had to do, nowhere this had to go. Slowly, slowly, Sirius’s terrified barriers started to slip away, and he melted under Remus’s devotion, gasping and sighing as his body began to move in response.
“Moony…” he whispered reverently, holding Remus’s gaze to him with fingers tangled in his waves. Remus rested their foreheads together, panting as his hands moved around them both and he thrust gently against Sirius. A small moan escaped from his lips, captured by Sirius as he arched up into him, winding a leg through Remus’s to pull them closer together.
He could feel Sirius start to take over, now - or at least to match him, stealing control from Remus’s body and dragging it beneath the depths of his own need. He tried to lean into it, tried to stay calm, but suddenly his breath was caught in his chest and he moved away, gasping in panic.
“Moony? What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine, I’m - I’m just…”
Remus’s eyes fell closed, his head dropping down as he tried to catch his breath, and before he knew what was happening Sirius was rolling him gently off and they were laying side to side.
“It’s okay,” he reassured him, stroking his cheeks tenderly. “We can stop.”
“I don’t want to stop,” Remus said, with a note of frustration. “It’s just so much, I’m not used… I’m not used to…”
He didn’t have to say the words. He saw it, in Sirius’s eyes, the same sheer terror at vulnerability after so many years of self–protection.
“I know,” Sirius said, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I know.”
Remus held him close, kissing lightly until his nerves had calmed; and then Sirius slid an arm around his waist and Remus wrapped a thigh over his legs and they rolled back against each other amidst breathy sighs and murmurs of encouragement.
“Together?” Sirius asked, taking Remus’s hand and moving it down between them. Remus moaned at the feeling of their joint hands around each other, sticky and warm and wound entirely together.
“Yes,” Remus gasped, capturing Sirius’s lips in a breathy kiss. “Yes, I think so.”
They took the train, of all things.
“The sooner we get to Peter, the better,” Sirius told him.
They couldn’t go up to Hogwarts earlier than September 1st, anyway; the full moon was the night before, and Remus insisted that spending their first one at Hogwarts cooped up in an office could only spell disaster. So Remus agreed to Sirius's suggestion, and they snuck themselves onto the Hogwarts Express shortly before 10am, finding a cabin near the end for Remus to collapse asleep in whilst Padfoot remained watchful and alert.
The train was rumbling away from London and out through the home counties when Padfoot wondered whether it was time to set out and look for Harry. He didn’t really want to abandon Remus borderline comatose in a train full of teenagers, but he also didn’t want to leave Harry unprotected a moment longer - and, if he let himself admit it, he just wanted to see his godson.
Sirius wondered later whether his longing had somehow become a wordless summoning spell. Just as he was debating whether or not to wake Remus, the door slid open and a student poked their head into the cabin.
“Oh!” she exclaimed.
“What?”
“There’s a dog!”
“A dog? What, in there? Let me see.”
“What’s a dog doing here?”
“Does it belong to him, do you think?”
Padfoot’s ears pricked and he hopped onto the floor at the familiar sound. He would have known that voice anywhere - it haunted his nightmares, it was woven into his memories, it was embedded into who he was. And if it wasn’t James, it could only be…
“Harry!”
The girl grabbed Harry’s outstretched hand, yanking it away from Padfoot’s head. He whined, dropping down onto his back legs and looking up at them with the most sympathetic puppy eyes he could manage.
“He’s friendly, look,” Harry assured her.
“Blimey, he’s enormous,” said the boy next to him.
But Harry was undeterred. He ran his hand gently along Padfoot’s neck and scratched between his ears, earning him a happy woof and an affectionate headbutt to his thigh.
“See?” Harry said triumphantly.
“Alright, well, I guess as this is the only cabin left…”
“We’ll sit with you, yeah?” Harry asked Padfoot, earning another happy woof in response. He moved back inside to sit obediently by Remus’s legs, watching as the three sat down at the other end of the cabin and cautiously eyed their new professor.
“Who do you reckon he is?”
“Professor R.J. Lupin.”
Padfoot wagged his tail, looking between the three of them excitedly.
“How d’ya know that?”
“It’s on his case,” the girl said, pointing at the luggage rack above Remus.
“What’s your name, then?” Harry said to Padfoot, leaning forward to stroke his head. Padfoot got up and moved closer to Harry, sitting happily at his feet with his tongue lolling out.
“He hasn’t got a collar,” the girl said slightly judgmentally. “I hope he’s not stray.”
“What have you got against dogs, Hermione?” the other boy asked indignantly.
“What have you got against cats?”
“Alright, look,” Harry interrupted, his attention leaving Padfoot for a moment to address the two of them. “I’ve gotta something I need to tell you both.”
Padfoot rested his nose on Harry’s knee, listening intently.
“When we were back at the Leaky Cauldron, I overheard Ron’s parents - sorry, mate,” he added quickly.
Ron shrugged. “Hard not to, with the way they yell.”
“Yeah - well, they were arguing about me. Your dad thinks that Black’s out to get me.”
Padfoot lifted his head with a whine.
“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.
“That he wants to finish the job. Thinks it’ll bring Voldemort back to power.”
Padfoot whined again, butting Harry’s hand insistently and licking his fingers. Harry glanced down at him and ran his hand comfortingly across his head.
“Jesus…” Ron said.
“Oh, Harry… you’ll have to be really, really careful. Don’t go looking for trouble.”
“I don’t go looking for trouble,” Harry said in irritation. “Trouble usually finds me.”
“How thick would Harry have to be to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?”
Padfoot gave a small bark at that, jumping up to rest his front paws on Harry’s knees.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Harry said. “He’s not gonna hurt you.”
“He wouldn’t dare! Look at the size of him!” Ron declared. “You should see if Lupin’ll let you borrow him, Harry.”
“Perhaps that’s why he brought him,” Hermione suggested.
“You think?”
“Well, if there was a mass murderer on the loose, wouldn’t you want a dog like that to protect you?”
“Wouldn’t mind it,” Harry said absent-mindedly.
The journey passed happily and reasonably uneventfully for the first part of the day. Padfoot reveled in the attention of Harry, and even Ron and Hermione started to warm to him. He was bought copious treats from the lunch trolley, happily wolfing down several pumpkin pasties. Harry stopped short of giving him a chocolate frog, resulting in a disappointed whimper, but consoled himself by letting Harry rest his feet on him when he curled up on the floor.
He was fighting the urge to doze off when a feline hiss and a very un-feline squeal jolted him awake.
“Scabbers!”
A rat shot out of Ron’s pocket and up the back of the seat as a large ginger cat hissed menacingly.
A rat. A rat! It was -
Padfoot barked loudly, sending Harry’s legs flying as he jumped up. He leapt onto the seat next to him, pawing at the wall as Wormtail scampered up along the luggage rack and hid in the corner.
“He’s after Scabbers!” Ron shouted. “They both are!”
“Crookshanks, no!”
“Get down, hey, that’s Ron’s rat!”
“Padfoot, sit down!”
His ears pricked, and he sank back onto all fours at the sound of Remus’s voice.
“Down, now,” he said firmly, and Padfoot turned and hopped down from the seat with a growl, glaring at him. “We’ve talked about this,” Remus said more quietly.
Padfoot looked up at Harry, who was now watching him with wide, scared eyes, and whined apologetically, drooping his ears.
“Sorry about that,” Remus said. “He’s a little, er, enthusiastic about catching rats. But I promise he’ll be on his best behaviour now. Won’t you?” Remus added firmly.
Padfoot huffed.
“Good boy,” Remus said, sinking his fingers into Padfoot’s fur. “Are you all okay?”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Harry said. “Sorry to wake you. We’ve got some food, if you want any. Your dog already had some - I hope that’s okay,” he added quickly.
Remus laughed. “Yes, that’s quite alright. And I’m fine, thank you. I’m not feeling too hungry today.” Padfoot gave his leg a hard bump, and Remus sighed. “Okay, well - I’ll manage a pumpkin pasty, if you don’t mind.”
Remus pulled out a book soon after that, pretending to read in the corner whilst the three chatted amongst themselves, noticeably quieter than before. He was tense against Padfoot’s side, though, and it was easy to feel the anxiety flowing off him. Padfoot extracted himself from under his feet, then jumped up onto the seat next to him and flopped unceremoniously down on his lap.
“Oof!” Remus exclaimed, moving his book out of the way. “You know you’re far too big for that.” He let his arms settle over Padfoot anyway, one curling around his side affectionately whilst the other rested on his head, still holding his book.
Wormtail stayed hidden for the rest of the afternoon, although the ginger cat next to Hermione kept its eyes fixed on the luggage rack. The rain pelted down outside, and Padfoot was just starting to drift away when the train slowed down and came to a stop with a jolt.
Padfoot sat up, his fur bristling. The lights went out, casting them all into darkness, but he could sense an ominous, encroaching void across the train.
He barked in warning and Remus rested a reassuring hand on his head.
“I know,” he said quietly.
“What’s happening?” Hermione asked anxiously.
“Dementors,” Remus said soberly. “They must have boarded the train.”
Padfoot barked again, his body tensing up.
“It’ll be okay,” Remus said to him under his breath, then he stood up and took out his wand. “Everyone stay back.”
But no sooner was he at the door than it slid open, and a terrifying cold filled the air.
Padfoot started barking madly, pawing at the floor as he stood firmly in front of Harry.
“Expecto Patronum!”
A silvery dog leapt straight through the Dementor, sending it hurtling back from the door which Remus then slammed shut behind it. The cold receded to an icy chill, leaving Padfoot whimpering by Harry’s legs.
“Is everyone okay?” Remus asked. “Harry?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Harry said weakly. Padfoot raised his head to see Harry pale and shaking next to him. “I just - I thought I was gonna pass out, for a moment.”
“Here, eat this,” Remus said, pulling a bar of chocolate out of his robes and handing a piece to each of them. Then he knelt down - with a noticeable wince - until he was facing Padfoot and ran two reassuring hands across his head.
“Okay, Pads?” he said softly. Padfoot lowered his head, pushing it into Remus’s chest.
“Is he alright?” Harry asked.
“He doesn’t like Dementors,” Remus said.
“Yeah… him and me both.”
Remus gave Padfoot a last scratch between the ears, then straightened up.
“I’m going to go and speak to the driver,” he told the group. “Padfoot will keep watch whilst I’m gone.”
“Professor,” Hermione asked hesitantly. “The Dementors - why were they here? What did they want?”
Remus was silent for a long moment, his eyes flicking down to Padfoot before he surveyed the group gravely.
“They were looking for Sirius Black.”
Remus was prepared for the stares as they made their way through the Great Hall, still more than half empty but now full of exclamations over the enormous dog accompanying the new professor. He was prepared for Padfoot to stop and delight in the attention, letting the students pet his fur and gush over how lovely he was. He was even prepared for the awkwardness of joining several of his own professors at the teachers’ table.
What he wasn’t prepared for was finding Snape sitting at its furthest end, glaring with a hatred every bit as strong as fifteen years prior.
“Fuck,” Remus swore and looked quickly around for Padfoot. It was too late; he’d already gone stock-still, tail down and teeth bared menacingly in a growl. “Padfoot,” Remus hissed. “For the love of god try and blend in.”
Padfoot ceased growling, but kept his fearsome gaze fixed on Snape as they made their way up to the platform. Remus shook Dumbledore’s hand, and Padfoot luckily managed to be amicable enough whilst Dumbledore greeted him, and they made their way over to a seat as far away from Snape as possible.
He barely heard anything the entire dinner and picked only mildly at his food. He was tense with fear, terrified Padfoot was going to lose control at Snape, Wormtail, or both.
“Pads, please,” he said under his breath. Padfoot licked his hand, which he took as reassurance, and he ran his fingers absent-mindedly over his nose.
“An interesting beast you’ve got there, Lupin,” Snape said coolly when they were making their way out of the Great Hall.
Padfoot barked at him, standing protectively in front of Remus.
“He’s an assistance dog,” Remus said calmly.
“I see.”
“Perfectly friendly, really. He’s just a bit on edge in a new environment.”
“Perhaps he should be confined somewhere more… appropriate, for such a dangerous animal.”
Padfoot growled, and Remus fought down the urge to shout at him.
“If you’ll excuse us, Snape. It’s been rather a long day of traveling.”
Remus grabbed Padfoot by the scruff of his neck and walked them away before Snape could respond.
“Stay with me, or I swear to god I’ll put you on a leash,” Remus warned.
Padfoot barked disgruntledly in response, but followed Remus nonetheless as they wound their way through the packed halls towards the South Tower, where Remus’s new office was tucked away.
“Did you fucking know?” Sirius demanded as soon as Remus pushed the door shut.
He cast an angry silencing spell before whipping round. “No, I did not know,” Remus snapped. “I never would have agreed to this otherwise.”
“How is he a fucking professor?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Sirius - you cannot behave like that!”
“That slimy piece of shit-”
“Sirius!”
“What! ”
They stood opposite each other, chests heaving and eyes flashing as they stared each other down.
“You know what,” Remus said with an icy calm. “You know exactly what’s at stake here.”
Sirius made an aggravated noise and kicked the stone wall under the window. “Of all the fucking people.”
“Yes, I know. It’s not ideal.”
Sirius scoffed.
“I’m…” Remus sighed, letting his head fall back for a moment. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Sirius nodded, but Remus paused, eyeing him nervously.
“I’m not about to go fucking attack Snape, don’t worry,” he said acerbically.
Remus pursed his lips, then wandered through a door at the back of his office to where he assumed the living area lay. He’d never been this far into a teacher’s office - although they’d got pretty close once searching for supplies in Slughorn’s - so he was taken unawares by how big it was. He shouldn’t have been surprised that a room in the castle had been magically expanded, but it was still impressive to see the sizeable living room with its own fireplace, kitchen table and enormous windows looking out onto the grounds, off of which was a bedroom almost as big as his old dorm in Gryffindor Tower, and a bathroom with a tub far larger than that of the cottage.
There was also, he noticed with a smile, a mezuzah affixed to each of the doorways.
Remus took a long shower, then dug out his pyjamas from the bottom of his trunk and went to find Sirius. He was perched on the window, legs folded up on the ledge with a cigarette in his hand as he gazed out at the sky, looking like such a mirror image of his teenage self that Remus was sure for a moment he’d traveled back in time.
“Hey,” Sirius said hoarsely, turning round when he saw Remus come in. “Look, I’m sorry…” he began, swinging his legs off the ledge.
Remus shook his head. “I shouldn’t have… look, just come here.” He moved forward to hug Sirius, who threw his arms immediately around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly.
“Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“Me neither,” Remus admitted.
Sirius pulled back to look at him, and Remus had a split second to catch the fiery look in his eyes before he kissed him fiercely, all cigarette smoke and adrenaline and the same desperate longing now sparking through Remus’s veins.
“I need you… I need…” Sirius gasped.
All the tension of the day exploded into desire, Remus pushing him firmly back against the wall and rolling their hips together as his hands came up to grasp at the side of Sirius’s head. He anchored their mouths together to kiss him bruisingly hard, sucking harshly on his lips before kissing away the sting. Sirius’s hands grasped urgently at his back, his shoulders, everywhere he could reach to pull them closer together.
“Fuck… fuck,” Sirius moaned as Remus rocked firmly into him, his head tipping back too invitingly to miss. Remus latched onto his neck, dragging his teeth down the skin as Sirius began roughly untucking Remus’s shirt and forcing his hands up over his skin.
“Fuck that’s cold,” Remus hissed.
“Well warm me up then,” Sirius taunted.
Remus snorted, and then they were both laughing, and Sirius was dragging him back with a grin to the bedroom.
They lay quietly together afterwards in Remus’s four-poster, so reminiscent of their childhood Sirius could have laughed.
Only five weeks ago he’d been in Azkaban. For the first time, though, it finally started to feel a little distant. Perhaps the memory of a past so much more momentous now pushed it to the side, or perhaps it was the warm, hopeful glow of finally having Harry in his sights.
Perhaps it was also this, the overwhelming feeling of safety of being in this castle, encircled tightly in Remus’s arms.
“So, Professor…” Sirius said huskily, twisting slightly to catch Remus’s eye. “Excited for your first lesson tomorrow?”
Remus smiled mischievously, trailing his hands up and down Sirius’s back.
“I have to say… I am.”