Farewell
They spent Harry’s penultimate evening at Grimmauld Place sat at the large kitchen table with a pizza and his photograph album. Sirius, having heard Remus’ tales of their Dementor lessons, had been eager to see it, and they'd taken a good few pictures to add to it during Harry’s stay.
Remus had brought out his old tin, and they had spread the pictures all around them, turning them over, one by one, trying to recall where and when they'd been taken. Sirius was able to fill in some of the gaps Remus had left, with tales of the Potters in the years he had lived with them, and Harry hung on his every word.
‘Look, this is summer before seventh year,’ Sirius said, picking up a picture and holding it out for Harry to inspect, ‘there are more of these somewhere - we went to Cornwall for a week, your dad and grandparents and me. Moony, have a look in the tin.’
They had continued like this for hours, sorting the photos into piles, trying to put them in some kind of order, sharing any details they could remember from clues left by clothing or scenery. While Sirius had helped Harry, Remus had started his own little pile - the few photos he had of his own childhood: as a toddler, sitting on his mam’s knee; throwing a ball high in the air amongst long grass and wildflowers; standing solemn in a suit at his mother's funeral, his fathers hand on his shoulder. There weren't many at all, and he ached at the thought that Harry had even fewer of himself at the same ages. He looked across the table, to where he was showing Sirius yet another photo, pointing to something and smiling.
‘Moony, remind me, where was this beach? The one we went to all the time that last summer-’ Sirius held up a photograph of James in a pair of red swimming trunks, ankle deep in sea foam.
‘Pwll Du,’ said Remus, ‘your beach - you said, do you remember? You have to climb down to the beach, or walk a long way through the woods. It was good for when Padfoot wanted a run around.’
Harry looked inquiringly at him and Remus spread out the other photos they'd gathered into the same group and found the one he was looking for - a great black dog chasing up the beach after James, ‘see,’ he said.
Sirius laughed. ‘Ah, yeah, it was a good beach for that.’
‘Can we go?’ Harry said, suddenly, ‘sometime I mean - it's a long way so - just, I think I'd like to see.’
‘We can go tomorrow if you like,’ said Remus, glancing at Sirius who nodded in assent. ‘We are wizards, after all.’
*
The next morning they apparated to the woods that ran behind the beach and followed the path alongside the stream, over the old foot bridge and down onto the shingle. The beach was deserted, the tide way out leaving thin swathes of warm brown sand between them and the sea. They wandered down the cove a little way, Remus absentmindedly scanning the ground for witch stones, stopping here and there to examine anything promising.
‘Merlin, I'd forgotten how beautiful this place was,’ Sirius breathed, turning on the spot and surveying the grassy cliffs that rose around them, speckled with yellow wildflowers.
‘Yeah,’ said Remus, rolling the stone he'd just picked up between his fingers and gazing out at the shimmering water. He glanced across at Harry who had wandered a little way ahead of them, gently kicking at the shingle, and back at Sirius who was now facing the sea, eyes closed, head tipped slightly back. His hair, a little longer now, was blowing lightly in the wind and Remus was struck by how different he looked here, away from London crowds and Grimmauld's dark hallways. He looked suddenly full sized, as if his whole body had relaxed and opened up. Unfurled. Free, Remus thought. He looks free. Remus stared at him, transfixed, the breeze was stinging his eyes, threatening tears, but he could not look away.
Sirius opened his eyes and he hurriedly dropped his gaze, turning to follow Harry further down the beach. He heard Sirius behind him, quickening his step to catch up.
‘Here?’ Sirius said, dropping his rucksack on the sand and turning to look out at the waves.
‘Looks good,’ Remus replied, unrolling the blanket he was carrying and laying it out in front of them. He settled down on it, pulling a flask of tea out of Sirius' bag and pouring them each a plastic mug. ‘Sausages?’
He dug a little hole with his hands in front of their rug, and glancing around himself muttered a spell, leaving a small campfire crackling before them. He rummaged again in the bag for a packet of sausages and a skewer, and set about propping them atop the flames to cook. Sirius flopped down beside him and immediately started poking at the fire.
‘Don’t fiddle,’ Remus said, ‘you OK over there Harry? There's tea here for you.’
Harry had stopped a little way off and was staring out to sea, his back to them. He turned when Remus called, taking the proffered mug.
‘Yeah, I'm ok,’ he said, ‘think I might have a walk.’
‘Need company?’ Sirius asked.
‘No thanks, I'll be back in a minute.’
Sirius looked worriedly after him as he replaced his mug and started down the beach, ‘do you think he's alright?’
‘Probably not,’ said Remus, ‘but let's let him have his walk and then we'll remind him he can talk to us.’
Sirius shuffled closer to him on the rug, knees drawn up to his chest, and leant his head against Remus' shoulder.
‘You’re so wise, Moony.’
‘Maybe Padfoot could cheer him up a bit,’ Remus said, nodding at Harry’s retreating back. ‘They haven't met have they, you've been very restrained.’
‘I’ve been kind of just enjoying being a person,’ Sirius mumbled , face in Remus’ t-shirt, ‘but-’ he lifted his head, ‘if you're going to insist.’
A moment later, Remus watched as Harry turned on the sand, head snapping round at the sound of the bark Padfoot had given as he bounded towards him. He saw Harry look up at him, and then around, and then back at the dog, pointing to him, the question on his face for Remus.
‘Meet Padfoot,’ Remus shouted, ‘throw him a stick or something.’
Padfoot turned at that and gave Remus a hard look with his big doggy eyes.
‘Oh don't pretend you don't love it,’ he called. ‘Ten minutes or so and the sausages will be ready.’
Remus watched as they ambled up the beach together, Harry threw a large piece of driftwood as far as he could and Padfoot leapt after it, splashing in the shallow waves that lapped against the edge of the beach. Harry chased after him, laughing, trying to get it back. Remus leant forwards to turn the sausages gently in the fire, watching their skins blackening in the flames.
‘Hey look!’
A shout from up the beach brought him back to his senses. Remus glanced around, to find Harry standing quite a way away, pointing towards something, Padfoot at his side.
‘Look!’ he yelled, ‘it's that big rock from the photo of my mum!’
Remus followed his pointed finger to what indeed was a big rectangular lump of rock, emerging from the sand.
‘Oh yes,’ he called back. ‘We should get one of you sitting on it to match! Sausages are ready if you want?’
*
‘There you go, Harry,’ Remus said, waving the Polaroid and handing it to him as he sat on the large rock from Lily's picture.
‘It’s so weird,’ Harry said, staring down at it, ‘sitting somewhere I know she sat. I'd never thought about it before - at school I mean - I wonder how many times I've been in exactly the same place without knowing it.’
‘Lots, I expect,’ Remus mused, ‘especially in Gryffindor tower - the common room’s pretty much the same as it was when we were there.’
Harry was examining the rock, his hand moving slowly across the surface. Remus looked back across the sand to where Sirius was lying back on the rug, hands behind his head.
‘You’re not in the same dormitory though,’ Remus said, ‘on the map, I could see - sorry -’ this was weird wasn't it, ‘you’re in the third room at the top of the stairs. We were in the first one, on the other side of the tower.’ Harry didn't respond, and Remus ploughed on, mouth moving before he could think.
‘You sit further up the table than we used to as well,’ Remus continued. ‘Our spot was closer to the doors,’ he stopped, Harry was still staring at the rock. ‘Sorry,’ Remus said, ‘boring - ‘
‘No,’ Harry said, looking up at him, ‘no I want to know. I spent my whole life imagining them, making stuff up in my head. Imagining what our house was like, what it would've been like if-’ he broke off. ‘The photos have been amazing. So many things are so real now.’
Remus moved to sit beside him.
‘Your house was lovely, it was a little cottage in Godric’s Hollow - do you know? It’s a village - lots of wizards live there. Do you want me to stop?’
‘No,’ said Harry, ‘I want to know.’
Remus observed him carefully, wondering if this was really a good idea, to tell him about all these things, things he had lost.
‘Your room was yellow. Your dad wanted red, but Lily said it wasn’t a restful enough colour for a baby. She wanted something sunny - happy. They had a little garden and that summer you turned one you crawled all round it, pulling heads off flowers and laughing when she scolded you.’
‘What are we talking about?’ Sirius had risen and come to join them. He folded himself up on the sand in front of where they sat, his chin on his knees.
‘Memories,’ said Remus, ‘I am trying to remember things about the cottage, in Godric’s Hollow,’ he met the question in Sirius’ eye with a meaningful look. ‘Harry asked.’
‘Hmmm,’ said Sirius, ‘you had a cat. A black and white one your mum and dad only ever called ‘The Cat’, it didn’t like you much. And oh - for your first birthday I sent you a toy broomstick. Your mum said it was your very favourite. I had a picture of you on it but I don’t know where it went - I think she told me you’d broken a vase your aunt had sent her -’ Sirius smiled across at them, mischievously and Harry laughed lightly.
‘Could I see it? Do you think?’
‘The photo? If I can find it, I -’
‘The cottage,’ Harry said, looking between them, ‘we could go there, couldn’t we? Apparate?’
‘Oh, Harry, I don’t know -’ Remus began. Sirius was looking at him wide eyed and he shook his head ever so slightly when Remus met his gaze, ‘- I’m not sure if that is a good idea. I haven’t - I don’t know what it is like -’
‘Did you ever go back?’ Sirius cut in, suddenly. Remus looked at him sharply, unsure of the tone of the question. ‘What a question!’ he almost said. They were both looking at him now, eyes boring into him. He flushed.
‘Once,’ he said eventually, ‘I went once, to see them but it was - I couldn’t - Harry I - I don’t know -’ Sirius was looking sorry now, he reached out a hand and put it on Remus’ knee, his thumb moving gently across it. Harry hadn’t finished, however.
‘You went to see them? They’re there? Buried there?’
Remus allowed himself a long blink.
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘in the graveyard by the village church.’
‘Please,’ said Harry, ‘please can we go?’
*
It was mid-afternoon when they arrived. Remus, knowing where the church was, had managed to land Harry and himself just outside the stone walls of the graveyard, and he left Harry there momentarily while he crossed the road and walked down the lane a little way to see where Sirius had got to. He found him a few metres away, staring fixedly up at the war memorial in the square.
‘Hey, we’re just down here,’ he called, continuing forward when Sirius didn’t turn. ‘Pads?’ Remus drew up alongside him and turned to follow his gaze. It wasn’t a war memorial - the obelisk had transformed as he had drawn level with it - it was a statue, of three people; a man, tall and bespectacled, a woman, pretty and smiling, and a baby boy, held fast in her arms.
‘Oh-’ was all he could manage.
They stood there, staring for a few moments, or minutes, Remus didn’t know. Eventually he felt Sirius’ hand reach for his wrist, fingers wrapping tight around it.
‘Where’s Harry?’ he said, hoarsely, dragging his eyes from the statue to Remus’ face.
‘Uh - erm -’ Remus turned to look back down the lane to the church gate where Harry was nowhere to be seen, ‘Um - I left him by the church - he must’ve-’
‘We should find him,’ Sirius said, moving now, pulling Remus with him, ‘we should be there in case -’
They found him, only a few moments later, wandering between the graves in the churchyard, looking carefully at the stones.
‘I recognise so many names,’ he said, without turning as they approached behind him, ‘so many wizard names.’
‘Well, yes,’ said Remus, ‘this is one of the oldest Wizarding settlements - birthplace of Godric Gryffindor and all that - it was very popular after the Statute of Secrecy was ratified -’
‘Oh,’ said Harry, suddenly, coming to an abrupt stop in front of them and derailing the history lesson, ‘oh.’
They'd found it. The headstone was made of white marble, the engraving stark against the pale background. James Potter and Lily Potter, their names eternalised in stone, their dates below them. Remus had seen it just once before. A memory pushed its way to the surface, of visiting, that first Christmas after - of sinking to his knees in the snow - of his hands, frozen against the base of the headstone. He pushed it away and looked to Harry, who was standing squarely in front of the grave, eyes fixed upon it. He stretched an arm behind him for Sirius, to find that he was out of reach. Turning, he found him several steps back, standing awkwardly close to a headstone in the row behind them, as if he'd bumped into it whilst trying to quietly escape. The expression on his face was one of such unbridled pain that Remus felt it hit his heart. He glanced at Harry once more, who had bent to clear some fallen leaves, and moved towards Sirius, encircling both his wrists with his hands.
‘Take a minute,’ he whispered, ‘Sirius, Sirius. Walk back up to the church and then come back. I know, I really know but this is Harry's moment.’
Sirius’ eyes focused on him and he nodded, turning away and beginning to walk back up the grassy column towards the chapel. Remus watched him for a few seconds and moved to stand beside Harry.
“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” Harry said, reading the inscription on the stone, ‘what does that mean?’
‘It’s a quote,’ Remus said, ‘I don't know who chose it for them,’ he paused - why didn't he know - ‘and it's open to interpretation I suppose, but I think it means that of all the enemies you'll face, death is the very last one, and perhaps, maybe it isn't something to be so afraid of,’ he faltered, he didn't really know what he was saying or if this was helping. He looked across at Harry who was wiping his face with his hands.
‘It’s ok you know,’ Remus said gently, ‘to be upset about this. To want to know what happened but hate what happened. To cry.’
Harry looked back at him, hot tears flowing freely now down his cheeks. He pushed them away again, roughly.
‘Is Sirius OK?’ he asked, voice sticking slightly in his throat.
Remus glanced back up at the church to where Sirius was leaning against a huge mossy tomb, looking away from them across the fields outside the churchyard. ‘He’ll be OK Harry,’ he said, ‘he's sad too, but you don't need to worry about him. You let me sort Sirius.’’
Merlin, he thought. He hoped he could
Remus helped Harry to clear the rest of the leaves. The grass across the grave was tufty and overgrown and he tidied it with a wave of his wand, producing a bunch of flowers for Harry to lay beside the stone. Lilies, for Lily and red alstroemeria, for friendship, for James. When they had finished, they made their way slowly back up to the church, collecting a quiet but composed Sirius on their way to the gate.
‘Do you still want to see the cottage Harry?’ Remus asked as the old wooden gate swung shut behind them. ‘We can come back, you know, do it another time?’
‘Yeah,’ said Harry, ‘I think I want to go now. But I do want to see it so - I want to come back.’
‘You have my word,’ said Remus.
*
The rest of the evening was rather subdued. Remus nipped out for a pizza, and they sat at the table playing rounds of Gobstones and Exploding Snap. Sirius went back through the whole tin of photographs, but couldn't find the one of baby Harry on his broomstick.
‘I’m sorry Harry,’ he said, ‘I shouldn't have brought it up.’
‘It’s alright,’ Harry said earnestly, ‘you got me a real one to play with anyway didn't you? And I've got the photos of that.’
Sirius smiled, ‘we’re going to miss you, you know.’
Harry smiled back, a little lopsidedly, ‘thanks so much for letting me come,’ he said.
‘Listen Harry,’ Remus began, ‘about your aunt and uncle, do you think -’
‘There’s no point talking to them,’ Harry said, cutting him off, ‘they hate magic, they hate wizards, they won't listen to you. I know how to handle them, I've had enough practice, and they're much better than they were when I was still in the cupboard.’
‘The what?’ Sirius said, catching Remus’ eye over Harry's head.
‘The cupboard under the stairs. I used to have to sleep in there but then it was on the address on my Hogwarts letter and they freaked out and gave me a room.’
‘Sorry, what? Say that again?’ Sirius said, the furrow between his brows deep.
‘You slept in the cupboard under the stairs?’ Remus interjected.
Harry nodded, looking between them, ‘but now I have Dudley’s second bedroom so-’
Sirius stood up very suddenly, arms flailing slightly at his sides from the speed of the movement. Harry stopped talking and looked up at him in alarm.
‘It’s OK, Harry,’ Remus said, quietly. ‘Sirius, sit down. I do think we will be having a little word with them though tomorrow, when we drop you off.’
‘OK…’ Harry said, looking at them nervously as Sirius climbed back over the bench, wobbling the Gobstones on their board as he sat back down to examine them.
*
Mid-morning the following day saw them back, standing outside 4 Privet Drive. Harry had been quiet all morning, and when Remus reached out and knocked on the front door, he retreated slightly behind them, head down.
Petunia answered the door, with a look of immense distaste, and stood to one side, without speaking, waiting for Harry to pass.
‘Good morning Petunia,’ Remus said, with the warmest smile he could muster, ‘we’d just like to see Harry in if that isn't too much trouble.’ He climbed the two steps up to the front door, inviting himself into the hallway, ignoring the scandalised look on her face.
‘My husband isn't here!’ she said in a strangled voice.
‘Oh, I can assure you you have nothing to fear from us. Shall I just go through here? To the sitting room?’ He made his way down the hall to the last door and sat down on the squashy beige sofa opposite the TV. Sirius had followed him through and he sat down beside him while Petunia hovered awkwardly in the doorway, Harry behind her peering curiously in at them.
‘Do have a seat Petunia,’ Remus said. ‘Harry, why don't you go and unpack your things?’
She sat, perched uncomfortably on the edge of her own armchair. Harry disappeared into the hall, but the number of footsteps Remus heard on the stairs told him he was likely hanging over the bannister listening in.
‘It’s good to see you again,’ Remus said, ‘we met once before, do you remember? It must have been - what? 1976? In the front garden of your parents’ house.’
Petunia made no indication of whether or not she remembered, her mouth pinched into a line.
‘It was brief,’ he went on, ‘perhaps you don't recall, I'd come to meet Lily. You remember her of course? Lily, I mean. Your sister?’
Petunia let out a strange hiss, as if she'd been holding her breath and had suddenly had to release it through her teeth. She seemed to deflate ever so slightly.
‘Of course,’ she said quietly, ‘how dare you -’
‘Only, I thought perhaps you had forgotten. Because I was trying to think of a reason why you would treat her child, her precious child who has lived with you almost his whole life so poorly? Why you'd take in a child who was utterly dependent on you to treat him as your own and make him feel inferior and unwanted? Why you'd lock him in a cupboard?' he paused, 'how old was he Petunia, when you first put him to bed under the stairs?’
He stopped abruptly and looked down. Sirius had put a hand out and grasped his knee, hard. Perhaps he was going too far - Petunia was stock still in her chair, her face white.
‘I think you know what Lily would have expected from you,’ he continued, lowering his voice and narrowing his eyes. ‘And I think you know what she would have done for your son had things been the other way around.’
He inhaled to continue but Sirius cut him off-
‘We'd take him, if we could,’ he said, his voice calm and soft, ‘but Dumbledore has said this must remain his primary residence until he's 17, so the best we can do until then is have him to stay. That means that while he is here, for however few weeks that ends up being, you need to look after him properly. Do you understand? Properly, kindly, with care.’
Petunia continued to stare at them, motionless, her eyes wide. Very slowly, she nodded.
‘He’s just a boy, Petunia’ Sirius said, ‘he’s Lily’s little boy. Remember that.’
*
‘Merlin you were terrifying!’ Sirius said, an hour later when they arrived back in the hallway of Grimmauld Place. They had managed to get a few actual words of assent from Petunia and said a tearful goodbye to Harry, with promises they'd try and catch up with him again before the end of the summer holiday.
‘It was the look on her face when we arrived I think,’ Remus said, ‘wound me up.’
‘Too early to call him with the mirror?’ Sirius asked as they descended the steps that lead to the kitchen. ‘I might just check it's working.’
Sirius crossed the kitchen and opened the back door, taking the mirror from his pocket as he let himself into the sun soaked garden. Remus tapped the kettle with his wand and followed him, stopping at the doorway. Harry had clearly answered his call immediately and Sirius was smiling down at the mirror, saying something about just checking in. He watched him for a moment, laughing in the sunshine and thought again, as he had on the beach, how beautiful he was. The kettle whistled and Remus turned back to the stove, fishing two mugs out of a cupboard and making tea.
‘He’s all good,’ Sirius said, as Remus approached with the mugs. They settled themselves in the shade of a tree and Remus leaned back against the trunk.
‘It’s so quiet without him,’ Remus said, closing his eyes against the bright sunlight and tipping his head back, ‘I’d gotten so used to it. I think we did a good job, overall,’ he continued, ‘tough day yesterday, but important. He was happy we listened to him. And now we work out what to do next I guess. We need to find out about those missing books - do you want to stay here tonight or go back to the flat?’
Sirius didn't respond, and Remus opened his eyes again to find him staring at him intently, teeth worrying at his bottom lip, eyes round with - what? A question? Remus, raised his eyebrows and sat straighter, sensing the tone had changed, some time in the last ten seconds, Sirius had gone again, dropped away from him.
‘What's the matter?’ he said, trying to keep his face open, his voice neutral, ‘are you alright?’
Sirius shook his head, and looked away. ‘I don't know,' he said, his voice small 'I don't know if I'll ever be alright. And it makes me sick, thinking about you stuck here, in this horrible place with me when you could be -’
‘Oh please,’ Remus said, failing to maintain the composure he'd just attempted. He could feel the heat prickling up the back of his neck. For goodness sake, he thought.
‘I mean it, Moony. I've got nothing to offer you. You could still be at Hogwarts, being the best teacher they've ever seen, meeting -’
Remus felt almost dizzy with incredulity, he had to swallow the hysterical laugh that had risen in his throat. Not ten minutes ago he'd been staring at Sirius, marveling at him. Could he really think he was - what? An inconvenience? He looked at Sirius, searching his face for a trace of a joke but found nothing.
‘Sirius, what in Merlin's name are you talking about? You think I'm here out of what? Charity? Responsibility? Biding my time and counting the days until I can what? Escape? What, about anything that has happened in the last two months made you think that?’
Sirius looked at him then, eyes full of conflict. He furrowed his brow ever so slightly, as if he was really considering the question. Remus sighed and rubbed his temples.
‘I just -’ Sirius said in a small voice, ‘- I just know I'm - hard work.’
‘Yes you bloody are,’ said Remus, ‘when you come out with mad things like this. I love you, you idiot. I've loved you for the best part of 20 years. I spent more than half of them trying not to and it didn't make any bloody difference. I love you and I love Harry and these last two weeks have been some of the best of my life. So stop with all the self pity bullshit and just let me do it,’ he inhaled sharply, flinging a hand out almost involuntarily, gripping Sirius' shoulder, ‘you act like this is some huge great sacrifice for me, as if I'm not a cursed creature who almost everyone despises and fears, as if I'm not waking up every morning feeling inconceivably lucky and full of disbelief that you're there next to me. This is it for me, Sirius. This. You - Harry - and unless you are about to tell me you want me gone, I am going nowhere.’
Sirius was staring at him, eyes even wider than before. His mouth was slightly open - in shock at his outburst, Remus supposed - lips pink and soft. He watched as Sirius wet them, briefly with his tongue before biting down on his bottom lip. He was so close he could feel the warmth of Sirius' breath on his cheek.
For a moment Remus wondered if he'd push it any further, if he'd ask the question, if they'd talk about why they did this, why they'd always done this, round and round, why they could love each other so much for so long but still not trust each other. He wondered if it would help.
‘Well?’ Remus prompted, breathlessly, butterflies swirling in his stomach. It all felt so clear to him, so obvious, but he'd already forgotten half of what he'd said.
‘You’re not cursed ,’ Sirius said, pausing, ‘and OK.’
‘Ok?’
‘You love me.’
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
Sirius moved then. Despite their proximity, catching Remus by surprise. He pressed their mouths together, hard and desperate, his hand coming up to cup the back of Remus' neck. Remus’ breath caught in his throat and he had to put out an arm to stop them from toppling onto the grass. He shifted slightly, turning into the kiss, returning it. It almost hurt. He closed his eyes, and let his mind go blank.