Silver
1995
As Padfoot approached the cottage, he didn’t expect Remus to be sat on the front step. Smoke drifted from his mouth and he rested his head back against the door, eyes closed. He was pale, almost silver in the moonlight. It was beautiful and tragic in a way, but Padfoot trotted on until he was nudging at Remus’ knee.
His eyes snapped open and he gasped, dropping his cigarette. “What the fuck, Padfoot?” He whispered harshly. He put the cigarette out on the wall and chucked it in a flowerpot, before heading back into the house, holding the door for Padfoot.
Sirius transformed the second the door was shut. Remus stared at him and he suddenly felt very self-conscious. Living in a cave hadn’t given him much opportunity to practice self-care. His hair hung in knots well past his shoulders and he knew he was thinner than he’d ever been, and that was saying something. Remus had seen him a year ago, and he’d not been in much better shape then either, but something about the way he took in his appearance solemnly made Sirius' heart hurt.
“Dumbledore said he sent you an owl?” Sirius glanced around as if expecting to see it.
Remus shook his head, “Not yet he hasn’t.”
“Oh,” Sirius said awkwardly, “Well, I imagine it would have told you that he sent me here to ‘lie low’ for a while. If that’s not too much of an imposition, of course?”
Remus blinked at him for a moment, “No, of course not.” His shoulders dropped and he gently flexed the hands that had been balled into fists. “Sorry, you just surprised me.”
“Ah, sorry. I thought—”
“It’s fine. Are you hungry? I’ve eaten but I’ve got stuff in.”
Sirius nodded and followed Remus into the kitchen, where he reheated some lasagne for Sirius and put the kettle on.
“Not that you could... but don’t tell Effie this is better than hers.” Remus chuckled and Sirius had missed that sound. Barely audible, and a little hoarse, but just as he remembered.
After Sirius had eaten, Remus showed him the bathroom and he washed up while Sirius had the first shower he’d had in years. He brushed his teeth and did his best with his hair, but some of the knots would need more work. When he left the bathroom in the clothes Remus had laid out for him, which hung off him, Remus was pretending to read on the sofa.
After a few minutes, Sirius perched himself on the opposite arm, “You haven’t turned the page in a while.” He said, with a smile.
Remus looked up at him, “Can’t concentrate. You’re still very distracting.”
“I wasn’t even in the room!” Sirius barked out a laugh, “Maybe you’re just getting old, and your brain is shit now.”
“Well, there’s that too.” Remus rolled his eyes.
“We’re 35, Moony.” Sirius slid down to sit on the sofa. “That’s not old.”
“I feel old. I’m going grey.” He gestured to his temples with a frown.
“That’s a distinguished silver, and honestly, it suits you. Really fits with the whole professor vibe you’ve got going on.”
“Not a professor anymore, though.” Remus sighed, “But anyway, fine, we’re not old We’re spritely young things in the prime of life.”
“That’s more like it.” Sirius took the opportunity to study Remus’ face. Too many new scars and dark circles under his eyes didn’t take away from the face that was just… perfectly Remus.
He realised Remus was watching him when he looked up from his jaw to his eyes.
“Alright?” He said, with a half smile, and Sirius swore that his cheeks flushed slightly.
Sirius nodded, before looking away. He looked around the living room of Remus’ home. Three overloaded bookshelves, a record player with a haphazard pile of records and a muggle TV that the sofa and armchair pointed at. It was cosy without being cramped.
“Your house. It’s nice.” Sirius groaned at himself internally. Good words, Padfoot.
“Uh, thanks?” Remus was smiling at him, and Sirius suspected trying to hold back a laugh. “It used to be my Nana’s. I lived here before I went back to teach. Coming back here again wasn’t easy, but I finally got rid of the awful floral wallpaper and peach curtains, and it’s starting to feel like home.”
Sirius nodded, but he couldn’t really relate.