Chapter 1
Remus was kneeling in the garden when the first droplet of rain hit him. He stood, stretched his aching back and looked into the distance. There were no clouds for miles.
He tipped his head back, staring at the sky in confusion. A second droplet fell on his face. He sighed and glanced down at the carrot tops sprouting from the almost-black dirt. Remus leaned down and ripped out one last weed before surveying his haul for the day: a wicker basket overflowing with carrots, zucchini, onions, and turnips. The pumpkins would be ready for harvest in a few weeks. It was a good batch this year and Remus knew that he would have to limit how many Sirius could carve into Jack-o-lanterns. If he didn’t, Sirius would cover the entire cottage in them on Hallow’s Eve, convinced that it was the only way to ward off wandering souls.
Remus carried the crops back to the cottage and found it empty. He realized that Sirius must still be out, tending the livestock. He grabbed One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore from the bookshelf and leafed through the pages.
Sirius wasn’t back by dusk, and Remus started to worry. Dark creatures roamed these hills, and despite Remus being a werewolf himself, Sirius never heeded his warnings.
I befriended one dark creature, didn’t I? Sirius always joked.
Remus shook his head at the memory and set the book down. He left the cottage.
He had been walking nearly twenty minutes when he heard Sirius singing and strumming a mandolin. Remus followed the sound, approaching the crest of a hill when he was knocked off his feet.
“SIRIUS!” A large black sheepdog stood on his chest. “GET YOUR MANGY DOG!”
“Padfoot!”
Padfoot jumped off Remus and ran back to Sirius, tail wagging.
“Stupid dog.” Remus muttered, brushing himself as he got to his feet.
“She’s just excited to see you.” Sirius laughed.
Remus paused. He had only agreed to let Sirius get a familiar to help with the animals. He hadn’t expected how much relief her company would bring him. She kept him company on full moons, and she was fiercely protective of Sirius. Secretly, Remus liked Padfoot, she was not only a good familiar, but a good dog too. She kept the animals in line and alerted them whenever something was amiss. But he drew the line at letting her sleep in the bed.
Sirius was lounging on a mound of hay, the horses eating it from under him. The sheep grazed around him, and many looked up when the music stopped. His dark hair tumbled carelessly over his shoulders, framing his face as he smiled lazily. Remus did not allow himself to be distracted by it.
“Why’re the animals still out?” Remus asked.
Sirius strummed and sang.
The cows are in the barn,
the chickens are in the coup
the sheep being out cause no harm
So why are you so blue?
The musical magic dazed Remus, and he looked around in confusion. Why am I upset? he thought. Everything is fine.
Padfoot barked, shaking Remus out of it. Alert, he glared at Sirius.
“No, really. Why are the animals out? How many times do I have to warn you that-”
“Dark creatures. I know.” He turned to Padfoot. “Get them all home safely, okay girl?”
Padfoot barked once more and ran off, herding the sheep towards their pasture. Sirius stood and slung his mandoline over his shoulder.
“That was terrible, by the way.” Remus said. “Didn’t even rhyme properly.”
Sirius linked his arm through Remus’s. “It’s called a slant rhyme, Moony. Don’t pretend like you understand the beauty of poetry.”
*
By the time they returned to the cottage, the rain had increased to a steady pace.
“Wow, Moony.” Sirius looked in awe at the basket of crops. “This is a great haul. Even for you.”
A smile tugged at Remus’s lips, but he shrugged. “It’s been a good season.” He walked over to a small sagging cactus on the windowsill. “I told you not to water this. You’re going to drown it.”
Sirius rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been several days.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “Cactuses can go weeks without water. They’re desert plants, remember?” He leaned down, muttered an incantation and blew on the plant. It dried the soil and the cactus turned green as it straightened. “Next time I’m not going to fix it for you.”
“Sure you won’t.”
“For real this time.”
“If you say so.”
Remus turned his back to him, annoyed. Deep down, he knew Sirius was right. He didn’t want to see the plant die, especially not when he could so easily help it, but Sirius had insisted on taking care of the plant and he needed to learn how to do it. The right way.
Sirius whistled and disappeared into the cellar. He returned holding an expensive bottle of red wine. It had been wood-aged for 25 years. “I’d say a season like this calls for a celebration, wouldn’t you?”
Remus clutched the windowsill and glowered at Sirius's reflection in the window. “A real cause for celebration would be if you could go more than a week without nearly killing your plant.”
Streaks of rain slid down the window, leaving zig-zag trails behind. .
“But it’s always a cause for celebration with you. Even if you weren’t the one who put in the work.” Remus continued.
Sirius set the bottle on the table with a heavy thud. “Who pissed in your porridge? I was out with the animals all day, by the way. It’s not like I was sitting on my ass.”
Remus paused. It’s true, Sirius was the reason they had any dairy, meat, or eggs. Plus he was the one who sheared the sheep every spring, providing them with winter clothes.
Remus turns around.
“I was just trying to acknowledge your accomplishments.” Sirius says looking down at his feet. “If you’re angry with me for something, just say so.”
Remus huffed. “You don’t listen to me. You ignore everything I tell you about the plant.”
Sirius raised his eyes to meet Remus’s. “Really? All this about a plant?”
Remus stayed silent, clenching his jaw.
Sirius turned towards the bedroom, but called over his shoulder. “Thank you for your honesty, Remus.”