Chapter 2
The ash swirled around Remus’ feet as he stepped into the fireplace, the green flames licking his ankles and worn-out sneakers.
“The Potter’s!”
-
“Remus! Right on time, you’re always punctual!” James’ clear voice cut through the ringing in his ears as Remus stepped out of the Potter’s fireplace, straightening his jumper and knocking soot from his trunk.
The older boy pulled him into a hug the moment he’d finished wiping the soot from his clothes, muffling Remus’s response.
“Hey Prongs!”
“I’ve missed you three so much, you can’t even imagine it. I could kiss you right now.”
Remus laughed, “Better not. I would hate to see what Sirius would do, he’s oddly protective.”
James pulled back and fixed his glasses as he looked Remus up and down, a frown growing on his face when his eyes landed on the bandage circling Remus’s arm, “Was it bad?”
Remus knew what he was talking about immediately, and the playful tone of their conversation stopped abruptly, “Not as bad as it could have been, although I suppose the wolf didn’t like being without its pack.”
“I’m really sorry Rem. I could try to sneak out during the next one, come say hi?”
“Not worth it. It’s not a big deal anyway, it wasn’t like the one after Christmas or anything.”
James nodded, sensing Remus’s reluctance to continue the conversation and dropped the subject, turning instead to the living room to call for Mellie, the Potter’s house-elf, who Remus had always been rather fond of.
“Young master James wishes Mellie to bring master Remus’s belongings to the room upstairs?”
“Yes, Mellie. Thanks,” James said dismissively to the small creature, already pulling Remus up the stairs. Remus smiled politely at Mellie as he passed, who gave a bashful smile back.
Upstairs, James’s room was decked out in red and gold, the startling amount of color that exploded in Remus’s vision when he stepped in making him shut his eyes for a moment.
With his increased senses especially, the vibrance hit him like a color tornado.
James’ unmade bed sat against the wall, a large Gryffindor banner hanging next to it. Across the room was a desk, piled with a random assortment of objects that it seemed he’d placed there and forgotten about.
It was no wonder he never finished summer homework assignments on his own. A circular rug lay in the center of the room, again, gold and red. On the walls hung a million different quidditch posters, an assortment that showed that James really couldn’t make up his mind about his favorite team.
On a small bedside table sat a single photo, framed in what looked like silver, but was actually tin (Sirius had insisted on transfiguring it before he let James put it in his room). The photo showed three boys in Gryffindor scarves. Peter stood off to the side of the photo, his tie done crookedly. Remus sat on a bench, a book open in his lap, although his gaze was focused on Sirius, who was laughing and throwing a snowball at the camera. Remus liked that photo. James had taken it just before Christmas break that year, when Sirius and Remus’s relationship had still consisted of stolen kisses in broom closets, sneaking glances over books in the library and quiet touches when James and Peter were gone. The Christmas when everything had gone to shit.
Best not dwell on that, though.
The mirror was propped on one of the bookshelves, glowing a slight light blue that clashed terribly with the colour palette that made up James’ room.
“I said I’d call him at six, so we’ve still got thirty minutes or so, if you want to something to eat or drink.”
“I’m alright. I had food just before I got here,” Remus ran his fingers over the spines of the books on James’s shelves, “The Picture of Dorian Gray. Wilde? Isn’t he a muggle author?”
“Lily recommended it.”
“Have you read it yet?”
“Er…” James looked sheepish but shook his head, “Can’t say it interested me much.”
“Huh,” Remus frowned, “I think I saw Sirius reading this one time.”
“Oh that, yeah. He takes muggle books home to annoy his parents.”
“Mm,” Remus put the book back on the shelf, “Probably not smart.”
James sighed, “Trust me, I’ve tried to tell him that, but he thinks it’s funny.”
“Of course he does.”
James shook his head and pulled a snitch from his drawer, throwing it above him as he lay back on the bed, his legs still hanging over the side. Remus continued examining his bookshelves, pulling out random books with interesting titles or covers. The room went silent, but not in the kind of way where you can’t think of anything to say. Remus and James had always been fairly comfortable together. They weren’t as close as Sirius and James, who’d clicked the moment they’d met, but the Marauders were Remus’s best friends, all of them.
When the clock hit one, James bolted up to grab the mirror and immediately gestured Remus over.
“Sirius Orion Black.”
The mirror’s glass went dark, and James and Remus found themselves looking at a shadowy version of themselves as they waited for the darkness to melt into the figure of Sirius. They sat there for at least a minute, becoming increasingly nervous as the mirror stayed resolutely black. Eventually, James set the glass down and looked worriedly at it.
“It’s fine, James. Give him a few minutes. Let’s try again in fifteen minutes and if he doesn’t pick up, you can start getting worried,” Remus picked up the mirror and slipped it into his pocket, “He might have just forgotten.”
“Yeah, ‘course,” James still sounded unsure.
Remus could sympathize.
Twenty minutes later with no response and Remus was starting to worry. At forty, James was pacing the room while Remus lay on his bed and stared at the scars on his palms. An hour and a half from their first call, Mrs. Potter came up with lemonade and listened as the two boys explained the situation.
“It’ll be alright, you can try him again in the morning. If he doesn’t respond, we’ll go see if he’s home,” Mrs. Potter said as she took the empty glasses.
This might have sounded like an overreaction if you were talking about anyone else, but the potters more than anyone knew the kinds of things that happened at Sirius’s house.
The grey light that pushed through the curtains of the window next to his bed woke Remus immediately. One (and the only) perk about being a werewolf was that he, unlike anyone else he knew, was able to spring immediately out of bed, meaning that he could sleep in later.
Some of the best lycanthroplogists hadn’t been able to explain why it happened. Something about the moon, like most anything that related to werewolves.
This did mean, however, that he was downstairs before anyone else, with only Mellie to keep him company. He found he didn’t mind her company much though, especially as she had some very interesting takes on both werewolf and house-elf rights, which he openly talked with her about while he made himself a cup of tea. (She insisted she should make it. (“But, master Remus, surely Mellie should make your tea!”) To which he insisted she shouldn’t. (“I can pour some water into a cup and stick a bag in it, Mellie!”))
So James, sleepy-eyed, and with hair somehow messier (is that even possible?) than it usually was, found him chatting with his house-elf over peppermint tea in the living room. He looked groggily at the two of them when he sat down, not grasping how someone’s brain could function this early in the morning, until the topic of Sirius was brought up.
“You think he’s doing okay?” James asked, frowning into the empty air beside Mellie’s head.
“I…”
“Don’t answer that.”
Remus sighed. Truthfully, as much as he wanted to believe that Sirius was perfectly alright, he’d met Sirius’s parents.
James seemed to agree with his unspoken thoughts, his face twisting into an expression Remus had only ever seen when he was thinking about Sirius.
“I think… I think he’ll be alright. You know Sirius.”
“I don’t want him to ‘be alright’ later. I want him to ‘be alright’ right now!”
“So do I, James, but it’s not like we can actually just show up at his house and expect his parents to be okay with that!”
“Why not?”
Remus shook his head and pulled the mirror out of his pocket, staring at its reflective surface, “Let’s just try one more time. If he doesn’t respond, I’ll apparate us there.”
He could tell neither of them were very optimistic about Sirius actually responding.
12 Grimmauld Place stood between 11 and 13 Grimmauld place.
For obvious reasons.
For not-so-obvious reasons, though, the house was both unplottable and hidden by magic, to muggles and wizards alike. Luckily enough, Sirius had told both of them, and Peter, how to get in back in first year, when he and James had declared the four of them best friends.
“Number twelve, Grimmauld place, London.”
The house began to take shape, stretching and pushing the other ones out of the way. Remus winced as the scraping sound filled the air, but the muggles in 11 and 12 didn’t seem to notice.
The lights were off in the building except for the ground and fourth floor, where a single window was lit up in yellow. Silhouetted by the light, someone stood by the window, but only for a second, the shadow disappearing after a moment.
While the house didn’t look very inviting, there was nothing overtly threatening about it either. And, someone was definitely home. Whether it was Sirius…
James shrugged and walked up to the entrance; one hand poised above the knocker when the heavy door swung open.
“JAMES? What in Merlin’s name are you doing here??” Sirius’s silver eyes were almost fully black with fear, his pupils dilated to the point that the iris was almost invisible, “You- you can’t be here.”
Remus, concerned, stepped up to his boyfriend, one hand reaching out to grab Sirius’s wrist.
“Sirius, are you--"
He was cut off when Sirius’s frightened gaze turned to him, a curse pulled from his lips, “Shit. Moons? Oh Merlin.”
“Sirius, what’s going on?” James asked, a worried expression growing on his face.
“Nothing, I’m--”
It was Remus’s turn to cut him off, actually grabbing his wrist this time, “Don’t say you’re fine. You haven’t responded to any of James’s attempts to contact you.”
“Oh, right, that. I-- something came up.”
James and Remus looked at each other, skepticism etched on both of their faces. James was Sirius’s best friend; they were basically family. There was nothing that could keep Sirius from talking to him.
“Pads…” James trailed off, not quite sure where that was going, but sure that what Sirius was saying wasn’t the truth.
“Look, this was a great chat, but you two need to go before my mother sees you. You specifically, Moony.”
Hurt, Remus frowned and let go of his wrist, taking a step backward.
“Merlin, no, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Sirius groaned, catching Remus’s hand, “Just that--”
“SIRIUS ORION BLACK!” A voice screamed from inside, all three boys flinching at the sheer volume.
“Go. Please,” Sirius’s voice was pleading, “She can’t see you.”
“Sirius?” James frowned.
“I’m sorry. I’ll see you at Hogwarts.”