Chapter 2
The next morning, Sirius decided to pretend that their tiff had never happened. It was better this way, the full moon would pass tonight, and Remus would be back to his typical, mild-mannered self.
Sirius had woken up first, and was now standing in the kitchen with Padfoot. He whisked several cracked eggs in a bowl before pouring them into a sizzling frying pan. He let them sit, turning his attention to grating a block of cheese.
He was still furious with Remus. Why couldn’t he just tell me what’s wrong? Sirius thought, grating faster. He always does this. He pushed the block against the grater even harder. I’m always in the wrong without even knowing what for. Cheese fell through the bottom. The block shortened into a nub. Sirius kept grating.
“Shit!” Sirius yelped. He dropped the grater and bent over, clutching his hand to his chest. His finger bled, staining his shirt.
Padfoot barked and rushed to him.
“Shhh. You’ll wake Remus.” Sirius said.
Padfoot pushed her nose against his wrist.
“I’m not hurt.” He told her.
She cocked her head.
“I’m fine.” He hissed. He waited for her to look away. She didn't. “I don’t want him to worry.”
Padfoot huffed and turned around, leaving the kitchen.
He rolled his eyes and made his way to the bathroom. He turned the water on, hissing as he stuck his hand under the running water. It flowed over his fingers, and the water turned pink.
“Sirius?” Remus leaned in the doorframe. He had clearly just woken up.
“Oh, goodmorning.” Sirius said through gritted teeth, his fingers still gushing. “I tried to tell Padfoot not to wake you.”
“She didn’t”
Sirius looked up, observing Remus through the mirror.
“It was, uh, the smell. . .of your blood.” Remus said. He walked over to Sirius, stopping just behind him and looking over his shoulder. “You need to put pressure on that.”
Remus grabbed a rag out of the cabinet below the sink. He gently grabbed Sirius’s wrist and pressed the cloth to his fingers.
“Ow.” Sirius tried to pull away, but Remus didn’t let him budge. Instead, he gently pulled Sirius towards the toilet.
“Sit.” Remus said.
Sirius did.
Remus sat on the edge of the bathtub. They stayed silence for a few moments while Remus firmly held the cloth against the wound.
“I’m sorry.” Remus says, finally breaking the silence.
“It’s fine. I should have been more careful with the grater.”
“No, about last night.”
Sirius looked up, surprised. Remus was never this gentle this close to a full moon.
“I was upset you were out late.”
Sirius felt a flare of annoyance. So that’s what it was about.
“You should have just said something.” Sirius said.
“I know.” Remus gently brushed the unharmed tips of Sirius’s fingers. “I just was worried about you being out there by yourself. I didn’t want you getting hurt.”
He lifted the cloth, blood trickled from Sirius’s fingers, although at a slightly slower pace than before. He frowned and stood, turning to leave..
Sirius stood up after him. “Where are you going?”
“That’s going to need stitches. Stay here.” Remus walked out.
He returned a moment later carrying a medical kit. Sirius watched him sift through it. He took out a bottle of antiseptic, bandages, and sutures. He cleaned the wound, causing Sirius to hiss.
“This is going to hurt.” Remus said, picking up the sutures. He examined the wound: two deep gashes across the middle knuckles of Sirius’s pointer and middle fingers. Then he went to work, slowly stitching the skin back together.
Sirius hated it.
When Remus was finished, he wrapped the bandages around his fingers and secured it. “You aren’t going to be able to play for a couple weeks.”
Sirius started to flex his fingers, but Remus reached out to stop him.
“And be careful. Don’t tear those.”
Sirius dropped his hand to his side and nodded.
“And,” Remus continued, “you might want to change your shirt.”
Sirius looked down, blood stained his shirt near the center of his ribcage. He took a step forward, and kissed Remus on the cheek.
“Thanks, Moony.” He said and walked to the bedroom. He selected a black sweater from the wardrobe. It was perfect for the cooling autumn weather.
When he returned to the kitchen, Remus was scraping off shriveled pieces of burnt eggs into the waste bin.
*
At dusk, Remus followed the river to a large field with Padfoot at his side. The rain fell steadily. The wind flattened the tall grass in one, uniform direction.
He glanced at the river. It was rising, and he hoped that the rain would ease up by morning. They had dealt with minor flooding before, but it was never a truly dangerous concern. Sometimes, they would move the animals to higher ground, but it always passed within a day or so.
This storm was different, he wasn’t sure what it was, but he could feel it. The air felt cooler, the clouds thicker.
Once he reached the middle of the field, he tossed his cloak to the side, and quickly undressed. He folded his clothes and lay his cloak on top of them, hoping that it would keep them dry for the morning.
Lightning flashed.
Padfoot shook the water off her rain-soaked coat.
Remus stood there, naked and drenched, and looked up. The sky was mostly dark, with soft oranges that barely showed through the clouds brushing the horizon. Slowly, the sun sank and was replaced by an unmistakable silver glow.
His bones rolled under his rippling skin. He glanced at Padfoot. “Ready?”
It was all he managed to say before he transformed.
*
Sirius was the first thing Remus saw when he awoke in the morning. Padfoot was laying down, her back pressed to him. Sirius helped him to his feet before pulling a pair of dry clothes out from under his cloak. It was still raining, hard. Remus quickly got dressed, but it wasn’t long before the clothes were damp.
The wind had blown his clothes from the night before, including his cloak, across the field.
“Are you alright?” Sirius asked.
Remus grimaced. “Been better.”
Absent-mindedly, he rubbed his hip but noticed Sirius looking at him with concern. He quickly stopped and made a point of looking around the field.
“We better collect those and head inside. This rain isn’t going to let up anytime soon.” Sirius said.
Remus agreed softly.
*
They walked back in silence, Remus trying to hide his limp, and Sirius pretending he didn’t notice it.
It didn’t take them long to collect Remus’s clothes from the night before, and as Padfoot walked just ahead of them, Sirius held onto them tightly.
He had hardly slept, staying up all night listening to Remus and Padfoot’s distant howls.
He hated that he couldn’t join them.
The worst part wasn’t even the waiting. It was when the howls stopped. At the crack of dawn, Sirius had hastily thrown on his cloak and plunged into the rain. He found them quickly, thanks to his bond with Padfoot, and had been relieved to see that there were only a few minor scrapes and bruises from this transition.
That brief period though, when he could know longer hear Remus, but before he could see him. That was always the worst.
The transformations weren’t always so smooth, and Sirius always feared for the state he would find Remus in. The first time Sirius had cried when he saw Remus heaped on the ground, a pile of tangled bones that didn’t quite fit back together.
Padfoot had changed everything. Her presence comforted Remus during the nights as much as it comforted Sirius during the days. Maybe even more. His injuries were less extreme, when she was around, and she helped Sirius find him quicker.
Remus slipped his hand into Sirius’s free hand, bringing him back to the present. “You alright?”
Sirius smiled easily. “Of course.”
By the time they reached the cottage, it was mid-morning and Sirius was concerned about flooding. The lightning from the previous evening continued, although the strikes were few and far between.
Once inside, he went straight for the bedroom, practically dragging Remus behind him. He was anxious to get Remus out of those damp clothes and into something dry and warm.
He had already laid clothes out for Remus on the bed, so he went directly to the dresser to get something for himself. He peeled off his shirt, flinging it to the floor, and selected a white cotton long-sleeve shirt. He was about to pull it over his head when he paused.
Remus was staring at him, eyes running over his torso. He smiled slightly and looked Sirius in the eyes.
“You, uh, need to get out of those clothes. . .before you get sick,” Sirius stammered.
Remus closed the distance between them, leaning in so his face was just inches from Sirius. His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, droplets clings to ends each strand.
“Is that so?” Remus whispered.
“Yes,” Sirius breathed. His heart pounded.
Remus brushed his lips against Sirius’s. “Only if you do too.”
Sirius rolled back a little, placing his hands on Remus’s chest and rolling his eyes. “I’m already halfway there.”
Remus kissed him, hard.
Sirius leaned into it, messily meeting his lips. He slid his hands up Remus’s chest and over his shoulders. He wound them into Remus’s hair, wringing the water into his hand. He didn’t care.
Remus pulled back just long enough to tug off his shirt. His torso was covered in uneven scars, some deeper than others.
He took Sirius’s hand and squeezed it.
Sirius yelped and snatched it away. “Fuck!”
He hissed through his teeth.
“I’m so sorry.” Remus delicately took Sirius’s hand back, and lifted it to his mouth.
His lips brushed over the bandages, a whisper of a kiss.
Suddenly, Sirius forgot the pain.
He slid his other hand behind Remus’s neck and kissed him again, backing him towards the bed. Sirius lifted his knee, resting it on the edge of the bed, and gently pushed Remus down onto it.
*
Sirius laid across Remus’s chest, his arm curled upwards to rest his hand on his cheek. Remus gazed down at him, and stroked his hair.
Remus loved his dark, shoulder length hair. It was glossy, reflecting a shine around it like a halo. He kissed the top of his head.
Slowly, Remus slipped out from under him, causing him to mutter in protest.
“Stay here, I'm going to figure out something for lunch.”
“Okay.” Sirius buried his head in the pillow, muffling his voice.
Remus paused in the door and looked back. Sirius laid on his stomach, his face buried between two pillows and the blankets pulled up to his ears. The corners of Remus’ lips twitched. He left the room.
He reached the kitchen and saw that the bottle of wine from two nights ago was still sitting on the dining room table. He felt a twinge of guilt and wished he hadn’t snapped at Sirius.
He took it off the table and made his way towards the cellar. He pulled on the heavy oak door, revealing a steep staircase disappearing into the dark. He grabbed the pull switch and tugged. A dim light flickered on.
He took a couple steps down, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. He was on the last few steps when he slipped.
“Shit.” Remus cursed as he stumbled into the cellar, water sloshing over his feet. “Shit.”
He pushed farther into the knee-deep water.
“SIRIUS.”
He grabbed cans of vegetables off the shelf, piling as many into his arms as he could. He rushed to the top of the stairs and set the cans down. There was still no response from Sirius.
Remus called for him again before running back down into the cellar. He started grabbing any remaining dry food that he could. A few moments later the stairs creaked.
Without turning around he said, “Sirius, I need you to go check the water levels at the river.”
“What?” Sirius said.
Remus turned around. Sirius rubbed his eyes and blinked. Remus looked him directly at him, and said calmly, but firmly, “The cellar is flooding. I need you to check the water levels.”
Sirius walked down a few more steps and his eyes widened as he took it in. Several weeks worth of food and a handful of wine bottles floated in the murky water.
He nodded once and said “I’m on it," then raced back up the steps. He called for Padfoot and a few seconds later the front door slammed.
It multiple trips up and down the stairs that left Remus’ hip aching, but eventually he salvaged the rest of the undamaged preserves.
He looked out the window and his heart sank. Please let the water levels be normal. The rain was pouring down in a steady sheet. Maybe this is just a design flaw.
He knew that wasn’t true. They had been meticulous when they had built the cottage, and they had faced many storms in the last three years that they lived there. The cellar had never flooded before.
Lightning flashed.
Remus tore himself away from the window. He rushed to the bedroom and took out two large packs. He flung open the dresser, throwing a few days worth of clothes into Sirius’ bag before packing his own.
With the clothes packed Remus returned to the kitchen and rifled through the cabinets. He placed a small cooking kit into his bag before dividing up the food between the two packs. He reached above the stove and tossed a canister of lighter fluid into Sirius’ bag and a box of matches into his own.
The front door opened. Remus nearly ran to the living room.
Sirius stood in the doorway and pulled his hood off of his head. “We need to go. Padfoot is herding the animals to higher ground, but the horses are still in the stable.”
“Here,” Remus handed Sirius his pack. “Take this and get the horses. I’ll finish packing and meet you on Raspberry Hill.”
“I can wait-”
“I’ll meet you there.”
“But-”
“Go!”
Sirius kissed Remus on the cheek and left.
Remus went to the bathroom and knelt in front of the cabinet below the sink. Inside, a wood panel served as a false back. Remus popped it open and pulled out a small pouch. Inside, coins clinked against each other as he threw it into his bag.
In the living room, Sirius’s mandolin leaned against the side of the couch. He placed it in its case and set it next to the front door. He pulled his boots and cloak on, securing it tightly. He started to grab his bag when he paused.
He went back to the cellar and found the bottle of wine Sirius had been so excited about floating near the bottom of the stairs. He lunged for it, but stopped to avoid getting his pants wet when the water washed over his boot. He grumbled, then muttered an incantation.
The water rose up in a thin stream, carrying the bottle to him. He grabbed it and released the spell. The water fell and crashed over the steps, wetting the hem of his cloak.
Remus hastily packed the wine and hoisted the pack onto his back. He held Sirius’ mandolin in one hand and stepped into the rain.
*
Padfoot was already at the top of Raspberry Hill with the animals when Sirius got there, both horses behind him.
He had saddled both horses in the stable, and his—Balius, a spotted black gelding—carried his pack behind the saddle. Remus’ gray mare pawed restlessly at the wet grass. Sirius placed a hand on her face, gently rubbing it and soothing her.
“Don’t worry, Xanthus, he will be here soon.”
He could see the cottage from there, and it was only a few minutes before the lights flickered out and Remus stepped out the front door.
It wasn’t long after that Remus made it to the top of the hill. He breathed hard, and dropped the pack on the ground. Sirius quickly picked it up and took it over to Xanthus. He hoisted it onto her back, just behind the saddle. He fumbled with the ties which were now slick from the rain, and he had just barely secured it when Remus spoke.
“Sirius.”
He turned around in time to see the river flood into the valley below. It crashed into their cottage, cracked the wooden frames, and swept it away.