Dinner
Sirius
It was an effort not to trip on the uneven cobblestone streets of Godric Hollow’s downtown area, especially with the bustle of crowds around them wherever they went. It seemed they weren’t the only ones who had procrastinated Christmas shopping until the weekend before, and regret was starting to make itself known. Every shop they’d hit so far seemed empty of anything good or reasonably priced. The second was a big one, considering he knew that neither he nor Remus really had much money to spend.
He’d been effectively cut off, of course, when he’d separated himself from the Blacks. It was something he had been willing to give up to get out of that house with his life, but it meant money was tight between paying for university, a shared flat, groceries, bills- it gave him a headache just thinking about it.
Remus seemed unfazed by his own money situation, and Sirius had wondered not for the first time just how out of touch he’d been growing up. He knew that you didn’t need a lot of money to survive, but, well, he had never had to worry about it before. Of all the things in his life that had caused him concern, money hadn’t been one of them until three years ago when he’d left and severed ties. And even though he had been on his own for that amount of time, the money in his bank account still nearly sent him into cardiac arrest every time he saw it. That was being a broke student for you, though. The only silver lining was that the only presents he still had to get were for James’ parents, and… and Regulus.
Twinkling lights hung festively from shop windows, casting the entire scene in a warm glow that urged Sirius to forget his problems and enjoy the winter weather. The street smelled of cinnamon and ice cream, a familiar smell that Sirius had grown up with and one of the things he missed about being home. To the left of him, James was grinning, glasses fogged just slightly between the warmth of his tan skin and the cold of the winter air. He flipped a coin over his knuckles with practiced ease, surveying the shops.
“At least this is getting us out of Mum’s chores,” James said with a cheerful nudge to Sirius. “Even if it’s cold.”
“True. Though it means more presents to wrap,” Sirius shoved his hands deep into his pockets, the leather of his jacket stiff due to the weather.
At Sirius’ words, Remus chuckled softly, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I can’t believe you thought using hot glue was a good idea last year.”
The sound of Remus’ laughter summoned a warm feeling that hovered in Sirius’ chest, momentarily wiping away his problems. As it always did. Sirius couldn’t help but glance at the slightly taller boy, whose lips were curled in a smile that boasted perfect white teeth. Remus looked slightly down to meet his gaze, brown eyes soft and crinkled with laughter.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Sirius said defensively, forcing himself to look away and back at the street.
“It is when someone’s as accident-prone as you are,” James chimed in. “How many times did you burn yourself?”
“That is… that’s irrelevant,” Sirius said indignantly. “My presents looked way better without tape everywhere, and you know it.”
“I’ll stick with the tape if it means my fingers remain unharmed,” Remus shook his head with another smile.
They were joking, the banter familiar and light, but beneath it, Sirius could feel a trickle of anxiety push its way through his chest. He couldn’t shake the idea of Regulus sitting in that old manor, alone with the memories of that house. Standing here joking with James and Remus seemed wrong when another piece of him was across town.
But there was nothing he could do. The branch he’d thrown Regulus had been olive, and Regulus had left it to rot.
As they passed by a sports supplies store, James chattered excitedly about new uniforms for the team, practically pressing his nose to the glass. Sirius watched his friend with a faint smile, fondness for James sweeping through him in an overwhelming rush. James’ excitement was so genuine, so uncomplicated. For a moment, it grounded him, offering a break from the grim thoughts that had been plaguing him since his return to Godric’s Hollow.
The moment shattered abruptly as Sirius realized that the figure that happened to be the center of those thoughts was stepping out of the bookshop to the left of James. Regulus nearly collided with James as he exited the shop, and the only thing that seemed to save them both was that uncanny elegance of Regulus’.
Dark curls fell over Regulus’ pale face, matched with a dark green scarf and a stiff, woolen coat. He looked out of place against the warm glow of the shops, like a smudge of ink on a golden page, and his stormy green eyes were narrowed as they took in the three boys. Sirius felt his stomach turn as he soaked in the boy he hadn’t seen in three years now, the person who had ignored every letter sent and every call made. The distance between them felt like a dull ache, something that lived under his ribs like a bruise.
Regulus’ eyes flitted over to meet Sirius’, and for a moment, it was just the two of them on this crowded street. The younger Black’s eyes glittered with something almost… callous, an unspoken threat to anything Sirius tried to say. Then they moved away, dismissing him as easily as setting fire to a piece of paper.
Before Sirius could speak, James’ voice cut through the tension like a hot knife.
“Well, if it isn’t the other Black.”
James’ voice was sing-song, but Sirius could hear the barb beneath it clear as day. James and Regulus had never really liked each other- there had been tension between them since the first day they had met, and it had never gone away. But Sirius was sure that part of this coldness that laced James’ voice wasn’t entirely about that. He was almost positive it was about the fact that Regulus had stopped talking to Sirius when he had left the family, despite Sirius’ multiple attempts to reach out. If there was one thing James most certainly was, it was loyal.
Regulus’ eyes narrowed further. His chin seemed to tilt up almost involuntarily, the infamous Black pride coiling within him like a serpent ready to strike. For a moment, he looked so much like their mother that it sucked the air out of Sirius’ chest and threatened to send him to his knees.
“Potter,” he said cooly, and that was all he had to say. The words that were left unsaid were what had James’ mouth tightening minutely. You’re not worth my time.
James smirked slightly as if it hadn’t bothered him, and Sirius knew if he was anyone else, it would have appeared that way. But Sirius knew James better than he knew himself.
“Didn’t think you’d lower yourself to join us common folk.” James’ eyebrows lifted slightly, ignoring the sharp look that Remus shot him over Sirius’ head.
Tension crackled through the air like frost on branches, and Sirius clenched his teeth as he glanced between the two of them. The urge to say something, to stop this before it became uglier than it already was, swept over him like a wave. But his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and the words wouldn’t come out.
Remus’ eyes glittered with disdain as they raked over James, then flickered to Sirius. “At least I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.”
Something that sounded like a growl rumbled in James’ throat, and Sirius felt more than saw the taller boy shift so he was partially blocking Sirius. The words hit harder than they should have, precise and sharp. Sirius’ jaw tightened and a flash of pain ignited between his ribs.
“Aren’t you, though?” James replied evenly, and Regulus’ eyes shot back to James.
“Enough,” Sirius made out, his voice low and strained. “Both of you.”
James looked at him in surprise, but obediently his mouth closed and he seemed to take a step away from Regulus. Remus’ weight pressed slightly into Sirius’ shoulder, a silent comfort that Sirius wasn’t even sure Remus was aware he was doing. He felt like a rope, pulled taut and fraying at the edges.
Regulus’ eyes turned on him again, unwavering, and Sirius got the distinct impression that whatever he was about to say would tear Sirius to shreds. His eyes seemed to chill the older boy to the bone, freezing him in place. Beneath a layer of cold, though, Sirius could just barely make out the hurt that lingered there- something visible only to someone who knew to look for it. The familiar ache of failure gnawed at him.
“Don’t act like you care now, Sirius,” Regulus said, his voice so soft that it was almost drowned out by the people passing them by. “You made your choice.”
Invisible claws raked at him, and it was an effort to not give the words a reaction. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see James’ hands tighten into fists. Sirius’ throat constricted, guilt sticking to him like tar and threatening to send his lunch to the cobblestone street.
“Reg, come to the Potter’s. For dinner.”
Sirius didn’t know who the words surprised more- him, James, or Regulus. James’ head whipped toward him incredulously, but the taller boy didn’t say a word. The offer lingered in the air, rough and unsteady, fragile as glass. Figuring it couldn’t hurt, Sirius added a weak, “Please.”
Regulus’ stormy green eyes flickered with hesitation, and for a heartbeat, Sirius thought he might agree. Then he shook his head in a stiff motion, and Sirius felt his heart sink.
“I don’t belong there,” Regulus said with finality. Without so much as a goodbye, Regulus’ eyes flitted to James once more before he was gone, melting into the shadows of the crowd.
Sirius stared at the place where his brother had been, the festive lights and light ambiance of the street suddenly jarring.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Remus, he realized distantly.
“Sirius,” Remus said softly, voice cautious. “You all right?”
Sirius forced a breath into his lungs, the cold air stinging his throat on its way down. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Sirius gave a nod. The motion itself felt like a betrayal.
“Yeah,” Sirius spoke, the lie brittle on his tongue. “Let’s just- let’s finish this and head home.”
Remus’ hand lingered for a beat too long before he let it drop, and Sirius rolled his shoulders back. Stepping away from the store, Sirius started down the cobblestone street in the opposite direction from which his brother had disappeared. As they walked, Sirius caught Remus glancing in the direction of the younger Black with a quiet sadness that twisted the knife deeper into Sirius’ gut. A spike of jealousy flared, irrational and sharp, but Sirius swallowed it down without a word like he’d done everything else. This wasn’t the time to face that particular fight.
As the cold crept into Sirius’ bones, he wondered if the distance between them had become too vast to ever cross.
***
Regulus
Regulus stared at the ornate silver clock on the mantelpiece in the cold drawing room of Black Manor. The tick of the second hand echoed through the building silence, every sound magnified in the empty, cavernous house.
The invitation from Sirius had been extended on a whim. He could see it in the way that James had looked at Sirius like he’d suggested a suicide pact. By all accounts, it was a weak attempt to cross a bridge that neither of them really knew how to cross. And it was a simple enough proposition. But Regulus knew it wasn’t simple, not really.
He leaned forward, fingers tracing the silver embroidery on the armrest of the ancient chair. His fingers, thin and delicate, paused over the small B that had been etched there. A war waged within him, as it always did. One part of him whispered that going would be an act of weakness, a concession to the brother that had happened. An admittance that maybe he didn’t want this life of money, power, and loneliness. It would be putting himself in Sirius’ hands, the person who had left him to bear the burden of the name Black alone.
The other part of him wondered what it would feel like to step into a house where warmth wasn’t an illusion, where laughter wasn’t used as a weapon. Where words had little meaning and didn’t need to be inspected carefully, laid out and autopsied.
Ridiculous.
It was dangerous for him to follow that line of thinking, to think that he could make it out when Sirius already had. He was the only one left. He didn’t have that luxury.
But the thought of spending another night alone in the manor spread through his mind like poison, shortening his breaths almost painfully. He was surrounded by relics of a legacy he hadn’t asked for and, if he was being honest, didn’t want. He had been for nearly a week now- another night alone seemed… well, it seemed unbearable.
With a bitter sigh, Regulus stood and grabbed his coat and scarf. He wasn’t going for Sirius, and he definitely wasn’t going for James bloody Potter. He was going because the silence here was choking him, and he feared that if he didn’t escape it, it would consume him completely.
***
Regulus didn’t allow himself to stare at the door for too long, nor did he allow himself to hesitate before he knocked. Hesitation wasn’t a Black trait, and he already felt like he was betraying his parents enough by simply being here.
Isn’t that part of the problem, Reggie? You feeling like everything you do is either conforming to them or betraying them?
Sirius’ voice echoed through the back of his mind, but Regulus paid it little heed as he waited patiently in front of the door. The chatter inside seemed to die a little as if those inside were surprised at the arrival of another guest. Then the lock gave a satisfying click, and the red door swung open to reveal a very surprised Mrs. Potter.
“Regulus,” she said in surprise. Mentally cursing Sirius, Regulus wondered if his brother had even informed James’ parents that he’d been invited. But it was too late to back down now, and he had already come all this way. The last thing he’d do was look like a coward by turning around and high-tailing it out of there like he wanted.
“Mrs. Potter,” he said pleasantly, allowing a rare smile to grace his face. “Sirius said I could come tonight. I hope that’s alright?”
“Of course!” She said hurriedly, beaming at him. The warmth with which she gazed at him caught him off guard for a brief second, so unlike that of his own mother that he almost didn’t believe it was real. There was no way one person could be so happy, especially when they now have to feed an unexpected guest. As if reading his mind, she chirped, “The more the merrier! Please, come in.”
The warmth that emanated from the Potter house hit Regulus the second he stepped inside. The scent of roast beef, spiced apples, and something sweet wafted through the air, and golden light shone from the chandelier that sparkled above his head. Polished wood and lively decor surrounded him, smiling gingerbread men and prancing reindeer that felt almost mocking in contrast to the house Regulus had just come from. His words from earlier echoed through his head.
I don’t belong.
Pushing the feeling aside, he stiffly shrugged off his coat and hung it with care on the coat rack beside the door. Rolling his shoulders back to ease tension, he offered Mrs. Potter another rare smile before following her into what he assumed was the dining room. The murmur of voices came to a halt abruptly as Regulus stepped through the door frame, causing his heart to lurch just slightly. His smile vanished from his face quickly, replaced by a mask of cool indifference as he surveyed the room around him.
The scene in front of him was almost nauseating in its domesticity, its normalcy. Sirius had frozen where he leaned back arrogantly in his chair, fork dangling from his fingertips as if he had been using it to make a point in his story. Remus sat directly beside his brother, gaze catching Regulus’ almost immediately with a knowing look that made Regulus sick, disgusted with himself for being so transparent. Peter Pettigrew and Lily Evans also sat at the table, completing the friend group of Sirius’ that had been together since childhood. Lily’s red hair was pinned back in an elegant low bun, her green eyes pinned on Regulus with surprise but no malice. A familiar bout of jealousy threatened to make Regulus’ hands shake, so he shifted his gaze from the lovely girl to the boy who sat directly across from her. James.
James watched Regulus, brown eyes calculating rather than warm. Not that he’d expected any niceties from the older boy after this morning’s altercation, but… well. They had been friends when they were younger, hadn’t they? They had been…
Whatever they had been, it was clearly gone now. Regulus knew it most likely had to do with his radio silence toward Sirius, something that he couldn’t bring himself to apologize for. Sirius had left, not him. If he didn’t like the consequences, that wasn’t Reg’s problem. Even if he had been kind enough to invite him to dinner tonight.
“Hope you brought your manners, Black,” James said coldly, and Regulus’ jaw tightened.
“Prongs,” Sirius warned softly, shooting James a look. Regulus allowed a smirk to pass over his face at his brother’s protectiveness, gaze lingering on James almost smugly.
“Yes, Prongs,” Regulus said, trying out the nickname on his tongue. It was taunting, and James stiffened almost imperceptibly. “I brought mine. Did you bring yours? Or do you just not have any?”
Sirius’ eyes closed momentarily, and a small pang of guilt brushed its fingertips over Regulus’ chest. It lasted a brief second before it was gone, replaced once again by the coldness that lingered there. Stiffly, Regulus took a seat in an empty chair. Mrs. Potter moved so quickly to fill Regulus’ plate that he wondered if it had even been empty in the first place.
After a few minutes, the clink of cutlery against porcelain was the only sound that broke the tense silence, punctuated by the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth. The table was laden with food, the smells warm and inviting, but it did nothing to ease the cold knot in Regulus’ stomach or the tension in the room. The warmth of the Potter house was suffocating in its cheerfulness, gnawing at him until bitterness was all he could taste.
From across the table, James took a long sip of wine, and his eyes flickered to Lily’s for what had to be the millionth time this evening. Regulus’ eyes narrowed at the action curiously, and at the fact that Lily was pointedly not looking at the other boy but rather spearing potatoes on her fork that she clearly had no intention of eating.
Interesting.
Pulling his gaze from the two, he focused it on Mrs. Potter instead. He almost couldn’t help the words that flowed smoothly out of him, an effort to break the silence even if it meant saying things he might not mean. Anything was better than silence.
“Dinner’s lovely, Mrs. Potter. It’s almost like being in one of those perfect family portraits.”
The words were innocent enough on the surface, but the underlying bite was unmistakable. Sirius’ eyes shot towards Regulus as Mrs. Potter smiled warmly at him, missing the barb entirely. Regulus had known she would- and had known that Sirius wouldn’t.
“Thank you, dear. We’re so glad you could make it,” she said warmly, beaming at him with genuine kindness. Regulus ignored the prickle of shame that passed through him at her smile. James’ knuckles had gone white gripping the fork in his hand, but instead of Regulus, James seemed to stare at Sirius with a look that said control your brother.
“Don’t start, Reg,” Sirius said calmly, taking a drink from his glass and watching James through cautious eyes.
“Start what?” Regulus responded innocently, though something twisted in his gut like a knife. He was pushing them away- he knew he was, and yet, he couldn’t seem to help it. “I’m just appreciating the hospitality. It’s not often I’m invited to spend time with such… inclusive company.”
James let out a dry chuckle that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “You mean common company? You can just say it, Black.”
Regulus felt his gaze turn to sharp, cool steel. He opted to say nothing instead, allowing the implications to lie there, and his gaze didn’t leave James’.
“I think I’ll go watch some TV with your father,” Mrs. Potter told James slowly, as if finally piecing together that this wasn’t something that she could help, and wasn’t something she wanted to be a part of. She slipped out of the room silently, taking her plate and her glass of wine with her.
“I bet your parents are thrilled you’re fraternizing with us commoners,” James shifted in his seat, studying Regulus with a smirk. James was pushing him, and both of them knew it. In fact, everyone at this table knew it. Against Regulus’ will, the words landed like a slap. His spine stiffened and his teeth clenched until they ached. But when he responded, there was no sign of the way the words affected him. Instead, his voice was cool and precise.
“At least they know where I am.”
“That’s enough, Regulus,” Sirius warned, voice brittle. Regulus refused to look too closely at the hurt that seemed to flicker in his brother’s eyes, gaze stuck on James like a magnet.
James leaned back, a muscle feathering in his jaw as he watched Regulus. It was a staring contest that neither of them seemed willing to break, edged with resentment and something… deeper. James’ head tilted just slightly, and his lips parted as if to speak again.
“James.” Lily’s soft voice broke the silence, and Regulus watched as James straightened slightly in his chair. Finally, James’ eyes left Regulus to linger on Lily’s face, as if searching for something there. But Lily wasn’t looking at him again, and when Regulus took her in, he noticed the guilt that seemed to operate behind each and every movement that she made.
And suddenly, it made sense.
A wicked smile curled on Regulus’ face, turning into something venomous as he leaned forward. “Ah. I see now. The perfect couple is no more.”
Lily’s head snapped toward Regulus, eyes wide with shock, and Regulus couldn’t help it- the sight of her perfect, pretty face fueled his fire more than it should have. Sirius’ mouth opened to stray Regulus away from the subject, but James seemed to beat him to it.
“Watch your mouth, Black,” James hissed, his voice dangerously low. Regulus’ heart leapt to his throat, and he could feel every pound of it, every pump of blood that surged through him as James stared at him like he was going to lunge across the table.
It was, for lack of better words, exhilarating. And the sole reason was that there was nothing like seeing James Potter riled up.
“What happened?” Regulus purred, leaning forward as if the table between them simply didn’t exist. “Did she get tired of telling the James Potter just how great he is?”
James’ fingers curled into fists, but amazingly, he stayed in one place. Regulus wondered if part of what was holding him back was what Sirius would say if James hit his own brother. Wondered if there was more beyond that. Wanted to find out.
“You’re on thin ice, Black.”
“My apologies. I wouldn’t want to tread on anything fragile.” Regulus’ smile was thin. “I imagine you’ve had enough of that lately.”
James’ snarl rippled through the room, but Lily was the one who pinned Regulus with a look that seemed to trap him in place. “Leave me out of this.”
“It’s funny how loyalties shift when it’s inconvenient,” was his only response, and hurt flickered in Lily’s green gaze. Shaking her head, she pushed her chair out and stalked out of the room without another word. James watched her go but still, miraculously, didn’t get out of his chair. Regulus wondered just how hard he could push before James would be throwing himself over the table to hit him.
“Isn’t that right, Sirius?” Regulus continued, gaze leaving James to focus on his older brother instead.
“I think you should stop talking, Reg,” Sirius said coldly. A cruel twist of satisfaction circulated through Regulus’ chest at the idea that he was getting to Sirius, even a little.
“Why? It must be freeing, abandoning everything that doesn’t fit your narrative.”
The scrape of James’ chair being pushed back caught Regulus’ attention, and when he looked back, James was standing. His fists were clenched in barely controlled anger, and the flush of his cheeks was intoxicating as he glared at Remus.
There it is.
“At least he had the courage to leave,” James hissed at him. “What’re you staying for, Regulus? A house full of sick ideals and elitist, blood money bullshit?”
Regulus’ eyes flashed with fury despite his attempt to hold it back, the composed mask slipping just a fraction. Heat rose in his cheeks, the accusation hitting a nerve.
“At least I know who I am,” Regulus said coldly. “At least I don’t need someone to validate my choices.”
James’ fist slammed into the table beneath him, rattling the plates. “You don’t know a damn thing about my choices.”
Regulus fixed him with a cold stare, and for a moment, he knew he wasn’t the only one being transported back to the day that James had left for university and left Regulus behind. Well, that’s not exactly true, now, is it, James?
“Don’t I? Or am I wrong when I say that the second someone stops kissing your feet, you fall apart completely?”
The words struck an open wound, one that made James flinch- flinch- in front of everybody. Instead of the explosion Regulus expected, a dreadful, thick silence filled the room. Without another word, James stalked out of the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway the only thing that punctuated the silence.
“You are a child,” Sirius seethed, and to have his older brother’s vehement anger directed only at him- it was a feeling Regulus didn’t expect, and didn’t know how to deal with. Shame coated his throat, preventing any words that built there from making it out. “Picking fights rather than dealing with your own fucking problems.”
“Don’t pretend you’re any different, Sirius,” Regulus said bitterly, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and the way that he wasn’t breathing. “You think it’s childish to pick fights? You’re the one who ran away.”
Sirius’ jaw clenched, eyes blazing as he stared Regulus down. “And you stayed. Look where that’s gotten you.”
Nowhere. Alone. The unspoken words hovered in the air as Sirius stood, walking out. The sound of the front door slamming was the only noise that followed, and Regulus stared down at his plate in silence. There was a slight scrape as Peter pushed his chair out and slipped out of the room awkwardly, though Regulus didn’t even look up at the boy he hardly knew.
And then there was Remus, who hadn’t left yet, and who hadn’t spoken through the whole ordeal. Regulus hated the way the older boy looked at him with sympathy in his gaze, as if he understood the isolation Regulus was feeling.
You don’t! He wanted to shout. You can’t. Because you have them, and I have no one.
“We’re going ice skating.”
Remus’ words broke the silence, and Regulus looked at him in surprise as if that had been the last thing he’d expected him to say.
“Tomorrow,” Remus continued, pushing his chair out and standing. “At the lake in the forest. You should come.”
“I don’t think James would appreciate you telling me that.”
Remus mulled over the words for a moment, before giving Regulus a shrug. “James can be a prick sometimes. I would like it if you came. And I think… I think Sirius would, too. Despite…”
The rest of that sentence didn’t need to be spoken. The remnants of dinner were strewn about the table, abandoned food and half-finished glasses of wine.
“Don’t count on it,” Regulus said numbly, standing and brushing past Remus before he could say anything else. Grabbing his coat on the way out, Regulus opened the door to find Sirius leaning against the porch railing. His older brother didn’t even look at the door as it opened, and Regulus didn’t offer a goodbye as he slipped past Sirius and headed back to the cold, empty manor.
***
Sirius
Sirius barely registered the sound of the front door opening and closing for a second time until Remus’ voice broke into the frigid night.
“Sirius.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Sirius said defensively, spinning around to face the other boy. Remus raised his eyebrows, an amused smile twitching across his lips.
“I wasn’t going to.” The words were steady and calm, and almost immediately Sirius began to feel the adrenaline that had been pumping through his blood slow. After a moment, Sirius sighed, head dropping low in defeat.
“I thought leaving that house would be enough,” he said quietly, the admission nearly getting stuck in his throat on its way out. “I thought if I left it behind, maybe it’d disappear. But it’s like I took all my guilt with me.”
Remus shifted forward to lean against the railing, too. His shoulder brushed gently across Sirius’, and despite himself, Sirius found that he leaned into it.
“It will get better. With time.” The words could’ve come off as placating, but knowing Remus was knowing he meant every word he said. And more than that, his voice was understanding, as if he’d endured a similar pain. “But Sirius… you can’t save him if he’s not willing to be saved.”
The words settled thickly in the air, and Sirius felt selfishness crash into him. “Maybe I don’t want to save him,” he whispered, as if saying the words any louder would kill him. “Maybe I just want to stop feeling like I failed him.”
“You didn’t fail him,” Remus said firmly, and when Sirius looked up, Remus was watching him with an unreadable expression. “You chose to save yourself. That’s not failing.”
Sirius swallowed hard, trying to chase the feeling of resentment away with the warmth of Remus’ words. The quiet stretched between them, filled with unspoken things, and a simple fact sank into Sirius’ mind like a stone.
Remus and I can never happen, because if we don’t work out, I can’t lose this. I won’t survive.
“Let’s go back inside,” he said hoarsely, standing up straight. Remus seemed to hesitate for a brief second in their close proximity before he nodded, turning and leading the way inside. Sirius let himself take another breath of cold air before he followed Remus out of the night and into the warm house.