a tense hello
Sirius knew he looked like shit. His hair was tangled and overgrown, face gaunt and skeletal. 12 years of Azkaban and a year eating rats will do that to you. But he never would have expected Remus to look like that.
Moony should not be dead-eyed and tired, his hair shouldn’t kack its usual sheen, he shouldn’t look so… listless. Like a shelter dog long abandoned by its masters. In a way, Sirius thought, he was. In an instant the ever-present guilt that he had ever thought Remus, his Remus, to be the traitor intensified. Moony should not be like that. m He had always comforted himself, in Azkaban, that Moony would move on and live a good life apart from the grief of losing the Marauders. Standing here he realized that was a fool’s dream. The Wizarding World was not kind to werewolves— bloody hell, even Sirius himself wasn’t kind to werewolves, if his treatment of Remus was any indicator.
Of course, he had seen him before. When the initial confrontation with Pettigrew in the shrieking shack had happened last year, the state of Lupin’s mental and physical health hadn’t been his top priority— or even close to the top of the list. First had been protecting Harry, then his revenge against Pettigrew. But thinking back, his Moony— did he even still have the right to call him that?— had looked terrible then too.
He almost reached out a hand to trace an unfamiliar scar on Lupin’s cheek, but he had enough sense to stop himself.
“Lupin,” he coughed. “I suppose you got Dumbledore’s patronus?”
Lupin didn’t reply, but stepped aside to allow Sirius entry into his home. Even though the decor was, frankly, pathetic, there was something just so Remus about it that it made Sirius smile. Sure, the coffee table was an upturned cardboard box, and the couch was old and patch-worked, but books were piled high, and thick knitted blankets were draped over every sitting place. It even smelled like Lupin— like cinnamon and strong tea. The very same smell Sirius had smelled when they brewed Amortentia in 6th year potions back at Hogwarts. But that thought got him thinking about James and Lily again, so he quickly dismissed the thought. Pushed it from his mind.
“Nice place.” A peace offering.
“You don’t have to lie to me. I know it’s shitty. I live here.” His reply was quick, so defensive it almost made Sirius flinch. It was harsh, biting– a reminder that they weren’t anything more than allies anymore. Sirius resolved to change that. It was unlikely they’d ever be anything more than friends, not after Sirius had so terribly messed things up. After all, he had accused Remus of being the traitor. And was wrong. Now James and Lily were dead.
It would certainly be hard to ever move on. Sirius doesn’t think he ever could.
“Let me get you some tea,” Lupin said, gesturing to the couch. Sirius sat down tentatively, and opened his mouth to protest, or to joke about wanting firewhisky, but as Lupin turned on his heel the words died in his throat.
Lupin would likely be upset that he hadn’t written to him at all over the past year. He could have. He had even stolen some paper as Padfoot, and sat down to write. But he didn’t know what to say.
Was there anything left to say?
Soon Lupin returned with just one mug of steaming tea. Sirius took it, eyes down.
“I’ll get you a bath running,” said Lupin quietly. He seemed to want to avoid being alone with Sirius as much as possible. Maybe he didn’t know what to say either.
Sirius sipped the tea, listening as the water began to run. It was strong, definitely herbal, one of the teas Sirius knew Remus’s mum used to drink. He had quite liked that woman, before she died. She was mousy-haired like her son, with the same big dark eyes. She wore thick sweaters and long skirts, and though she was soft-spoken, she certainly knew how to express herself. She had sat Sirius down and given him a stern talking-to about taking care of her son. He was glad she passed peacefully without knowing how badly he had failed.
When Lupin finally returned, he refused to make eye-contact. “Got you a bath running. There's a razor in there, so you can shave, if you want. Don’t… try anything stupid. Uh, I’ll help you with your hair once you’ve washed it.” Though Lupin might be different now, he still had that gentle kindness that was so characteristically him. It made his heart burst and squeeze at the same time.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Lupin didn’t acknowledge his thanks, but a small smile graced his face as he spoke, still avoiding eye-contact. “There’s fresh clothes in there, too. They’re mine, though, so they might be a little big.”
Sirius hated that he doubted that they would. Once upon a time, they might have– Remus was considerably taller than Sirius, had been since 4th year. Sirius had always found it hot as hell. But now? Even though Sirius was malnourished and thin from lack of proper food, Remus didn’t seem much better. His throat was suddenly dry so he simply nodded, following Lupin into the bathroom. He heard Lupin murmur something about not locking the bathroom, just in case. It occurred to him then that Lupin thought he was going to kill himself. Hah! As if he would kill himself while Pettigrew still breathed. No. He would get his revenge, for himself, for Remus, for Lily and James, for Harry. He had to. He wouldn’t kill himself.
The warm water soothed the ever-present ache in his bones, and he sighed as soon as he sank into it. Bathing was a luxury he hadn’t had in 13 years. He hadn’t had a single bath or shower in Azkaban– prisoner hygiene was certainly not a priority of theirs– and since being on the run he had only had the privilege of bathing in lakes and streams. There was shampoo, and conditioner. Once, he had had an entire hair care routine, and would have scoffed at just using shampoo and conditioner. Now, though? It felt like a godsend.
After what must have been an hour in the bath, he finally found the strength to drain the water and dry himself off. He pulled on the clothes, trying not to think about how they were Remus’s, and inspected the razor almost suspiciously. He held it to his face, and ran it along his chin, before spotting the shaving cream and feeling rather stupid. It wasn’t quick work– he didn’t want to bleed out all over Lupin’s bathroom.
He took a breath in, and stepped out of the bathroom, facing the ever daunting task of his hair.