Chapter 23
When he opened his eyes the next morning, it took him a moment to remember what had happened. By the time they had gone to bed, there had only been a few hours left before morning, but Remus had slept soundly, dreamlessly, for the first time in months. The bright Spring light was filtering through a gap in the curtains and he rolled over to find Sirius already awake, sitting sideways on the bed, back against the wall. He was looking intently at something.
Remus blinked and rubbed his eyes, wriggling himself into a sitting position.
‘Hey,’ he said, and when Sirius didn't look up added, ‘what have you got there?’
Sirius glanced at him and tried to say something, but no sound came out. Suddenly concerned, Remus rose and hurried over to the bed, climbing up beside him.
In his hand, which was trembling slightly, he was holding a bundle of Polaroids. The same ones Harry had tactfully ignored when he found them in the tin. The same ones that Remus had propped up on his bedside table months ago. On the top, was the one of them both, squeezed on the sofa in the flat. Together, happy. Sirius held it up, and looked at Remus, his eyes full of questions.
‘I was going through some photos,’ Remus said quietly, ‘with Harry. He has an album. These weren’t - these weren't ones he needed.’
Sirius raised his other hand and opened it. He was holding the moon-shaped stone with the star scratched into it.
‘I lost this,’ Sirius said. ‘I found it, thought it looked like a moon and scratched the star into it, but then I lost it. Where did you get it?’
‘It was rolled up in my paper on Christmas morning,’ said Remus. ‘I thought you must've lost your mind and taken to snatching Prophet owls out of the air. It was sort of what - well partly what pushed me to find you.’
Sirius stared down at the stone in his hand and smiled ever so slightly. ‘That bloody cat,’ he said.
*
Dumbledore knocked on the door at 8 o'clock sharp, and found them both ready, dressed in Remus’ clothes. Remus had managed to shrink a pair of slippers down, just a little bit, so that they'd fit comfortably over Sirius' bandaged feet and had packed a bag as instructed.
‘Well,’ said Dumbledore, when they opened the door, ‘don’t you scrub up nicely! If the teaching doesn't work out Remus, perhaps you could consider a position in a barbershop?’ he smiled as he said it, but Remus shifted uneasily, wondering if it was a serious suggestion.
‘There’s some breakfast in my office,’ he said. ‘There are a few things we need to discuss and then we'll invite the children to join us.’
Remus glanced at Sirius who looked about as uncomfortable as he felt.
‘Thank you, Albus,’ he said, guiding Sirius through the door and closing it behind them.
A request from the Headmaster for a private breakfast in his office had motivated the Elves to produce quite a spread, and Remus saw Sirius' eyes widen at the sight of plates filled with sausages, eggs and bacon. They sat, side by side, at the table that had been laid out. Dumbledore sat opposite and helped himself to a spoonful of scrambled eggs, gesturing that they do the same. Remus arranged a selection on his plate, and then looked over at Sirius who was still staring at the food, hands in his lap. Dumbledore had busied himself, spreading marmalade on a slice of toast, so Remus took two slices from the rack and placed them on Sirius' plate, with a sausage and a rasher of bacon.
‘First things first,’ Dumbledore said, laying down his toast. ‘I would like to apologise, Sirius for the part I played in sending you to Azkaban twelve years ago. At the time, I believed the evidence I was giving to be fact. I do now believe your version of events to be the true one. I wish that previously I had acted much less hastily.’
Sirius was looking up at Dumbledore, face impassive. Remus bit his lip, he couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
‘I will, of course, support you through the trial. I recommend that you cooperate fully with the Ministry.’ Dumbledore continued, ‘It will be soon I expect , Fudge won't want it dragged out - wrongful convictions are very bad press. Until it is over, you need to keep your head down and your nose clean. We cannot have any more of the unacceptable behaviour we have seen from you: no more break-ins, no more knives. I have written to St Mungos for a referral to a mind-healer. I'd suggest, for now, you return to the flat and lie low. If that is acceptable to you, Remus?’
‘It's Sirius' flat,’ Remus replied, simply.
‘I dismissed the Dementors first thing this morning, so I expect the story will be in the papers by tomorrow morning. I will see that what is printed is a version of events that we want to be told.’
‘Keep Harry out of it,’ Remus said suddenly, ‘of the paper I mean. If you can -’
‘Of course.’ Dumbledore nodded. ‘I respect your attempt to protect him from last night's events. I can't say I am surprised that he and his friends ended up in the thick of it, but things could have gone very differently.’ Remus could have sworn that for a second, there was a twinkle in his eye.
‘He looks just like James,’ Sirius said, abruptly, as if he had only just tuned into the conversation.
‘He does,’ Remus said, ‘but maybe don't let that be the first thing you say to him.’
Sirius nodded, solemnly and Remus realised that he had been so preoccupied with his own reunion with Sirius he hadn't given much thought to Harry's. The nervousness he already felt about what he assumed was his impending dismissal intensified. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sirius lift a slice of toast and take a bite.
‘So,’ said Dumbledore, ‘I suggest you both make your way to the flat this afternoon. Remus can help you get settled in - get you set up so that he can return to teach on Monday. You -’
‘Monday?’ Remus said, immediately regretting his interruption.
‘Yes,’ said Dumbledore, ‘you have classes to teach, do you not?’
Remus nodded, wordlessly.
‘I can't pretend that I am not disappointed, Remus, that you did not come to me sooner. But I do understand why you didn't. I put a great deal of trust in you and you broke it, but I am aware that it was a result of a lack of trust for me and that is something we are both going to need to address.’ Dumbledore's blue eyes were cool, but not hard. ‘For the time being, at least, I would like you to continue teaching. There are students who need preparing for exams, and I daresay some decent Defence training is something that may be invaluable for many of them in the not too distant future.’
Before Remus could respond, Dumbledore clapped his hands together and smiled. ‘And speaking of the students, I believe we have some just outside who are eager to come in!’
‘Wow! Breakfast?’ said Ron, as he entered the room, followed by Hermione. Harry brought up the rear, looking, Remus thought, like he hadn’t had much sleep.
‘Have you not been down to The Great Hall this morning, Mr Weasley?’ chucked Dumbledore.
‘Yes?’ said Ron, quite puzzled at the question.
‘Well then, I suppose three more place settings are in order.’ he waved his wand and three more plates appeared, chairs from around the room drawing themselves up to the table. Dumbledore moved from his seat opposite Remus to the end of the table to allow Harry, Ron and Hermione to sit down.
As Ron helped himself to sausages and baked beans, and Hermione neatly buttered a piece of toast, Harry sat, staring openly at Sirius, who looked straight back at him. It was as though they were studying each other, seeing each other for the very first time and Remus supposed that in a way, they were.
‘You look different,’ Harry said, suddenly. ‘To last night, I mean. You look kind of like the photos now.’
‘Re - Professor Lupin mentioned the photos,’ said Sirius after a beat. ‘Which ones have you got?’
‘Mostly ones of mum and dad,’ said Harry, ‘but you’re in one, both of you actually, at their wedding.’
Remus watched as Sirius’ eyes crinkled very slightly at the corners. ‘Oh,’ he said, almost wistfully. ‘That was a very wonderful day.’
‘Did you send him the Firebolt?’ Ron said, abruptly, through a mouthful of bacon.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Sirius, glancing nervously at Dumbledore who was looking closely at a croissant. ‘I saw your broom destroyed by that blasted tree and I felt it was one small problem I could solve. A cat-friend of mine helped me to order it. Consider it thirteen birthdays worth of missed presents.’
‘Hermione thought you’d cursed it!’ said Ron, loudly, which earned him a furious glance from his left and an elbow aimed at his ribs.
‘Well, I can quite understand that,’ said Sirius, quietly, ‘I realise I haven't been - I haven't been myself. I have to say, Ron, I am sorry about the fright I gave you…’
‘Oh no don't worry,’ said Ron, ‘it was cool.’
Dumbledore coughed lightly from the other end of the table and Ron blushed.
‘Not cool, exactly, but like, I'm fine.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ said Sirius smiling now.
The conversation relaxed after that. They mostly kept the topics light, Remus talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione about school and Sirius, quietly watching them talk animatedly about lessons and Quidditch.
‘Did you play at all at school?’ Harry said, looking up at Sirius, ‘Professor Lupin tries but he's not that into it. You can kind of see his eyes glaze over when you bring it up.’
Remus opened his mouth to protest - he had worked so hard at his Quidditch conversation! And he had watched the last two matches properly!
Sirius laughed out loud at that. ‘No,’ he said, smiling at Remus' affront. ‘He’s always struggled with Quidditch - used to bring a book to read during matches…’
‘No way!’ said Ron, aghast. Hermione looked as if someone had just had a most excellent idea.
‘I know,’ said Sirius, rolling his eyes and nudging Remus with his elbow. ‘I did play, yes. Beater.’
‘Awesome.’ said Harry, grinning.
*
They agreed to meet again as soon as the trial was over, when they knew more about how things might turn out. ‘Maybe it'll be sorted by the end of the Summer,’ said Harry, hopefully, before following Hermione and Ron back down the spiral staircase, chattering happily.
‘Your Floo has been arranged,’ said Dumbledore, holding his hand out and inviting them to move towards the fireplace. ‘Yours had to be reconnected, Remus. I'd say maybe leave it installed, you may want to go back and forth. You’d better get a move on, I should probably honour my arrangement to meet with Severus, make sure he doesn't… implode’
‘Do you want to go first?’ said Remus, wondering if Sirius would rather be alone in the flat, or alone with Dumbledore.
‘No, you go.’ Sirius said, ‘I’ll be along in a minute. I just want a quick word with Albus about something.’ he pulled his mouth into what Remus supposed was an attempt at a reassuring smile.
‘OK…’ he said, ‘see you there.’ he took a handful of powder from the pot on the mantelpiece and threw it into the fire, stepping in and shouting his - their address.
Seconds later, he was back in the flat. He dropped his bag by the fireplace - it was heavy, he had brought Buckbeak’s appeal documents with him, he had promised to look at it and he would. He stood in the centre of the room, trying to think of something to do to make it seem better, more homely, more welcoming. He plumped the cushions on the old sofa and shoved a couple of stray books back onto a shelf, but it made little difference. The flat had felt cold and uninviting for a long time, and it wasn't the soft furnishings that were the problem.
He wandered through to the kitchen and put the kettle on, realising only once he had poured two cups of tea that he didn't have any milk. He took the teabags out anyway, and was just wondering if Sirius would drink it black, (he knew he wouldn't) when the fire whooshed and a spinning figure emerged from the flames. Sirius stepped out onto the hearthrug and held out a bottle of whitish liquid.
‘Dumbledore thought we might need to make a cup of tea.’
*
They talked long into the night. Remus had added the milk to the first cups of tea immediately and they'd sat down on their faded settee.
‘It all looks just as I remember it,’ Sirius had said, looking up at the bookshelves and the tall windows.
‘It is just as you remember it,’ said Remus, looking at him.
‘You never fancied a change? Not even a new sofa?,’ Sirius said, bouncing slightly on the sagging cushion to illustrate his point.
‘I couldn't.’
Sirius had got up then, and wandered across the room.
‘More books,’ he had said, running his hands across the spines, neatly stacked on the built-in shelves.
‘A few.’ Remus had replied, watching him from the sofa as he padded slowly over to the window.
‘Kebab shop’s gone,’ he said.
‘Yeah, years ago now,’ Remus replied. ‘It's fried chicken now I think. Doesn't smell any better.’
At dinner time they'd ordered a takeaway, Sirius pouring over menus he had never seen before, looking for something he could stomach. In the end they settled for a very mild curry, with an extra serving of steamed rice, in case it was too much. They settled in front of the fireplace on cushions, as they had used to do, dinner on the coffee table, backs against the sofa.
‘What’s he like?’ said Sirius, staring into the flames, ‘Harry I mean. Is he like them?’
‘He is, in a way,’ said Remus, ‘but not really. It is hard to describe. He is sort of half extraordinary, half normal thirteen-year-old boy.’ he shrugged. ‘You’ll get to find out for yourself now.’
‘It’s difficult to imagine,’ said Sirius, ‘I never thought I would. I thought about him all the time, but I didn’t have any idea who I was thinking about.’
‘He’ll show you who he is,’ said Remus, ‘I wouldn't worry about that.’
‘Want another tea?’ Sirius asked, ‘I’ll do it,’ he added quickly as Remus made to stand up. ‘I know how.’
‘You haven’t got a wand, remember,’ said Remus looking up at him with a smile.
‘Oh back to the pure-blood jokes already are we.’ said Sirius, nudging him with his foot. ‘Oh look, a tap!’ he said loudly as he reached the kitchen, his tone rich with sarcasm. ‘Oh look! A kettle - oh’ Sirius’ voice was now muffled behind the cupboard door that stood open between them, ‘my Puddifoots mug!’ he exclaimed as he pulled it from the cupboard, a golden starry night, shining against midnight blue. There was a moment of silence, as Sirius stared down at it. ‘Hey,’ he said slowly, face emerging round the cupboard door, the mug cradled carefully in his hand. ‘I’d forgotten all about it, but back in March - I found a - on the gatepost - I was so hungry, I thought I’d just got lucky but did you - did you leave…’
‘I did.’ Remus said.
‘You remembered.’
‘I had to.’