The post arrived that morning, as it always did, by Owl Post.
Remus fed their designated owl, Steve, and watched the creature fly back out of the window before he skimmed through the pile: two letters for Sirius, one for him, three for the homeowner(s), and the usual daily newspaper. He flicked the kettle on and opened his letter. (It was just a campaign flyer for the upcoming elections for the new Minister of Magic. Nothing important.)
"Good morning, my beautiful dove," greeted Sirius, who entered the room with a flourish and planted a kiss on Remus's cheek.
"G'morning," he muttered in response – decidedly not a morning person, unlike his partner who woke up with a bright grin every morning as if he'd had the best sleep ever. "Coffee?"
"I would love some, yes."
Remus grunted and then muttered, "Post is here."
Sirius sat down at their kitchen table and began leafing through the post: "For the homeowner: eckletricity bill... importance of voting leaflet... I don't even know what this is." He held the letter up for Remus who didn't know why they had gotten a bright letter about cacti either and shrugged. Sirius hummed and ripped the piece of paper up. He pushed the electricity bill toward Remus's seat and said, "You'll have to sort out the Muggle bill."
Remus hummed, made a cup of tea for himself and a cup of coffee for Sirius, then sat down at the table, glancing at the energy statement before pushing it aside and reading through the newspaper instead.
"And for Sirius Black, a bank statement, and... huh."
Remus looked up from his news at this and watched as his partner of nearly a decade frowned down at the letter in his hands. It didn't look like much from where Remus was sitting – expensive paper with handwritten words on it – but it must've been something since it caused a frown on the other man's usually happy face.
"What's up?" he asked once Sirius had lowered the letter.
"Hm? Oh, nothing," Sirius replied, even as he carefully folded the letter back into its envelope and deposited it into his pocket before taking a large gulp of his (likely scalding) cup of coffee. "It's nothing."
Remus paused, studied his partner – the man he had known for more than half of his life and who he had loved for just as long. "Are you okay?" he asked because he was sure that Sirius was decidedly not okay.
Sirius forced a smile and said, "Yep. All good. I have to, uh... work. I have to go to work." He stood up, gulped the rest of his coffee down, and pulled on his lime green cloak. He checked his wand was in its holster then leaned over and gave Remus a goodbye kiss. "I'll see you tonight, yes? I'll pick us up some food. Chinese, perhaps?"
"Pads, we're going to James and Lily's tonight," he reminded.
"Oh. Right, yes. Of course. I forgot, ha-ha," he laughed nervously. "I'll see you when I get home, then."
"Okay," mumbled Remus. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Something flickered across Sirius's face, but he answered, "Absolutely fine, Moons. I'll see you later, okay? Love you!"
"Love you too," he muttered, but Sirius was already out of the door.
Remus could put Sirius's strange behaviour down to it just being Sirius, a strange and wonderful wizard in general, but something else was up. He just knew it. He decided to look into it later.
When Sirius got home from work, there was no time to discuss the morning's odd behaviour because they were getting ready and then heading next door to the Potter residence for Friday Games Night.
Call them co-dependent if you want, but James and Sirius had decided early on that they would never be separated and that they were going to be either living together or neighbours for the rest of their lives. Remus and Lily had no say. And because they were all so close, Peter moved into the house just across the road. Frank and Alice lived next door to him with Marlene and Dorcas next door to them.
The street was basically a Hogwarts reunion.
It was ridiculous.
It was brilliant.
Friday Games Nights were usually a great success, and that night was no different. Peter and his girlfriend, Dyanola, had won three out of four games – which was no surprise, really. Peter had always been good at games, and he had found someone who was equally as competitive. Frank and Alice had left early since their son, Neville, had come down with a fever, and Marlene and Dorcas had headed off soon after, leaving James, Lily, Remus, Sirius, Peter and Dyanola drinking and chatting at the end of the night.
"Padfoot, are you okay?" asked Lily before she took a sip of her beer. "You've been awfully quiet this evening."
It turned out that Remus wasn't the only one who noticed the difference in Sirius – Sirius, who was so often the life of the party, who was usually rambunctious and jubilant and talkative, but who had been unusually subdued that evening.
"Have I?" he asked, though his face said he knew he had been.
"Yes," replied Lily. "You know you have. So, what's up?"
"Something happen at the hospital?" wondered Peter.
"Moony, any ideas?" asked James, who gestured to Remus with his glass of white wine.
Remus glanced at his partner and wondered how to respond. He didn't know what was wrong, but he didn't want to force Sirius into talking if the man wasn't ready. In the end, he answered, "I don't know. He's been acting a bit different since this morning. He says he's fine."
"I am fine," Sirius insisted.
Lily leaned forward and took Sirius's hand in her own, her green eyes meeting his grey. "Sirius, what's wrong?" she asked.
Lily had a way about her that made them, all of them, want to talk, and now was no different apparently as Sirius sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out the letter from that morning and handing it to her. Lily took the letter and quickly read through it.
"Oh, Sirius..."
Sirius shrugged quietly.
"What is it?" James asked.
Lily looked to Sirius, who nodded his consent, then passed the letter to James. James read quickly, his face doing very complicated things before he frowned at Sirius and passed the paper to Remus who read it with Peter and Dyanola peering over his shoulder.
It was a letter from Sirius's cousin, Narcissa, and the gist of it was this: Sirius, your mother is dead, soz and all that, but do you know where she kept the spare keys because the advocates want to have a look around to check the details of her will.
Once they had all read through the contents, they turned to Sirius. None of them really knew what to say because Walburga Black, the woman who had raised Sirius for fifteen years, who had taught Sirius to hate himself, who had hurled abuse at Sirius until the day he ran away (and for a fair few days after as well), had died.
Peter broke the silence with: "Is this good news?"
Sirius looked at him, grey eyes piercing, expression unreadable. "Yes," he answered, after a moment. "Brilliant news."
Peter nodded and then muttered, "Ding, dong, the witch is dead."
Remus closed his eyes, half because of the pun, half because he didn't want to see what would happen next. To his surprise, Sirius laughed. He didn't know what he had expected to happen, but Sirius laughing was not it. The tense atmosphere broke and, because they had all been drinking enough to become tipsy – if not a little drunk – soon enough, all of them were giggling into their drinks.
"Ding, dong, the witch is dead," Sirius repeated with a grin.
The next few days passed without the topic being brought up again.
Remus thought they should talk about it because he knew that Sirius would probably be having some complicated thoughts about it all, but he didn't want to force his partner into conversation. Sirius would talk about it when he wanted to, if he wanted to.
But then another letter arrived: a formal one this time, with the Black Family crest on the front and an ominous feel about it. Remus knew it was about the funeral without reading it, which was confirmed when Sirius said: "My mother's funeral is next week. Anyway, fish and chips for tea?"
Sirius was being far too cavalier about the whole thing, Remus thought.
When his brother had died, he had locked himself in their flat and didn't leave for a week. (Regulus had gotten in with the wrong crowd after school: a bunch of fanatics, half of which died thanks to their 'leader' and the other half incarcerated for various crimes. It was a difficult time for Sirius, who had felt like it was his fault that he had lost his brother.) It was a month before he spoke to Remus about it, and it took a few years of Leaf Therapy with his mind healer before he accepted that it wasn't his fault and that he shouldn't feel guilty for getting out when he did.
Then when his father had died, a mere few years after that, he had sat on the couch and cried into Remus's jumper for three days before he talked it out with his healer.
Now his mother had died, and he was happy about it? Walburga had been a horrid woman in life, and whatever Sirius's feelings about it all were completely valid, but it didn't sit well with Remus that his friend was so okay with it all. Orion Black had been just as cruel, after all, but he had gotten a reaction.
And so, later that night, when they were lying in bed, Remus on his back, staring up at their bedroom ceiling with Sirius wrapped around him like a vine on a tree, he decided to broach the subject:
"Are you going to the funeral?"
Sirius shifted, burying his face in Remus's shoulder. "Hm?"
"Your mother's funeral," he said. "Are you going?"
Sirius was silent for a long moment, so long that Remus wondered if he had fallen asleep, then he heard: "No, I don't think so."
Remus hummed and turned his head, resting his face against Sirius's lovely forehead. "Why not?"
Sirius snorted, "Are you joking? She was an awful human being, Remus. She made me think I was odd and wrong. She made me feel bad for just being me. The things I thought about myself, about the world, about everything, all because of her... She doesn't deserve for me to go."
Remus hummed again. He understood Sirius's reasoning, but he didn't quite agree because: "This isn't about her, though."
Sirius shifted and pulled back to look at him. "What?"
"This isn't about her," he repeated. "It's about you. If you want to go, if you want to say goodbye, if you want to argue with her one last time... You should do it."
Sirius frowned in the darkness. "What are you talking about?"
"It's okay to not be okay, Sirius," he said quietly. "She was awful, yes, but she was your mother. It's okay to be sad that she's gone. It's okay to be conflicted about this, about your feelings for her."
"I'm not conflicted."
"No?"
"No," he replied, sitting up to stare down at Remus. "She was evil, and I hated her. But I also loved her because she's the reason I'm here. She brought me into this world. She sent me to Hogwarts where I met you and the others. She is the reason for my pain and my joy. She will always be that person to me: the one who gave me life, the one whose approval I wanted more than anything. But I don't need that approval anymore. I have you, I have the Potters. I hate her for what she did, for who she was, but I love her because of what she gave me. I'm not conflicted, Remus. I know what I'm feeling and I'm dealing with it."
Remus stared at the other man: beautiful and strong and wonderful. It was difficult to believe that Sirius could come from a family that was so stuck in the Dark Ages that it wasn't even funny.
"Alright," he said, because he sort of understood Sirius's logic. He accepted that Sirius knew how he felt and that the other man was processing. "Okay. You're dealing with it."
Sirius nodded and lay back down, "I'm dealing with it."
"If you want to go, though, I'll go with you," he muttered quietly after a few seconds of quiet.
"Really?"
"Really."
Sirius hummed and mumbled, "I'll think about it."
They were watching Blankety Black the next evening when Sirius asked:
"Would you really go with me?"
"Yes," Remus answered without hesitation. "You know I would."
Sirius hummed, his eyes still on Les Dawson on the television. After a long moment, he said, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"The funeral is next Wednesday."
Wednesday was a strange day for a funeral, Remus thought, but he didn't question it. He would maybe do some research later to see what a witch's funeral might entail, but he'd do that out of Sirius's way. He nodded and replied, "I'll let work know."
Sirius smiled at him, "Thank you, Moons."
"You don't need to thank me, y'daft mutt," he mumbled, reaching out and taking hold of Sirius's hand. "I'm here for you, I always will be."
Sirius glanced down at their hands for a second, then let go and shuffled over on the sofa to wrap his arms around Remus. Remus returned the embrace and placed a kiss on Sirius's forehead.
The next week arrived and along with it, the funeral.
Remus put on a black suit that he thought would be suitable for Walburga Black's send-off and waited for his partner to finish getting dressed. When Sirius walked out of the bedroom, looking handsome as ever in his dark formal wizarding robes, it was obvious that he was nervous. Remus fixed the other man's necktie and once they were both suited and booted, they Apparated to the Sepulture Grounds where the funeral would take place.
The Sepulture Grounds was a place for folk who didn't really have a specific religion but needed to be sent off to the afterlife with a proper farewell. The building they stood outside of was large with stone bricks and colourful windows, surrounded by fields of green, trees full of blossoms, and extravagant headstones for the important people. If Remus hadn't done any research into what a Mage's funeral would entail, he might've thought it was just a normal church with a normal service.
Sirius hesitated at the doors. Remus reckoned he knew why: behind those doors were people who connected Sirius to a family he had ran away from over a decade ago; people who knew what he was and why he had been disowned; people who had the same mindsets as Walburga and Orion Black had. Remus didn't really know what to say that could provide comfort to the other man, so he did what he always did in those situations: he took Sirius's hand in his own to show him that he not alone.
"Feel free to tell us to fuck off."
They both jumped and turned around to find their friends – James, Lily and Peter – in dark attire.
"What are you... You're here," muttered Sirius.
"Of course we are," replied James.
"You're family, Padfoot," said Peter.
"And we're here to support you, no matter what," added Lily.
Sirius looked at them all, then at Remus. His eyes were bright, he looked like he was going to cry – but not for his mother. Relief was written across his face because he had his real family there with him.
Remus offered a smile and gave his hand a squeeze, then said, "Are you ready?"
Sirius nodded, "I am now."
"Come on, then," said James, taking Sirius's other hand. "Let's go scare the locals."
Sirius laughed and they all went inside.
The service passed by quickly and efficiently. A short poem was read out by the serviceman who wished Walburga Black well in the next life and then ushered everyone outside to the burial site where he read another short scripture-like poem. They lowered her casket into the ground – "It's a family plot," Sirius had explained under his breath, "One grave for every member still part of the family so that they can annoy each other in death as they did in life." – and many threw roses or lilies into the hole before making their ways to the After Service gathering.
There was a lot of people on the grounds, though that wasn't wholly unexpected. Walburga Black might have been a despicable mother and a worse human, but she was a brilliant socialite, and socialites always had lots of mourners.
Sirius and the others stayed at the back, letting everyone else pay their respects, watching as so many spoke quick words of love for the woman who had made Sirius's life hell.
"Sirius, what are you doing here?"
The group turned to find Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) staring at them. Sirius cleared his throat and said, "Narcissa. Hello."
"Hello," she responded. "I'll ask you again: what are you doing here?"
"I was invited," he said. "You invited me, in fact."
"Yes, well, when I issued the invitation, I didn't think you'd actually show up!" she hissed.
"She was my mother, Narcissa," he replied, a cold edge to his voice. "I'm allowed to pay my respects."
Narcissa pursed her lips and said, "As long as that is all you're doing."
Sirius rolled his eyes and replied, "I won't be desecrating her grave, if that's what you're worried about, cousin."
Narcissa hummed but allowed herself to be led away by her husband. Left alone, the last ones at the graveside, they stared into the plot. None of them knew what to say, so they all watched Sirius who was looking at the expensive wooden box in the ground that held his mother.
Lily cleared her throat, put her hand on Sirius's arm, and said, "We'll leave you alone for a moment."
James and Peter gave Sirius a pat on the back and shoulder respectively before they followed her over to a tree a little bit away. Remus began to follow but a hand on his wrist stopped him. He turned back to find Sirius staring at him.
"I'm here, Padfoot," he said, placing his free hand on top of Sirius's, "And I'll stay if you want me to, but I think it's better you do this part on your own."
Sirius's jaw clenched but he nodded and released his grip on Remus's sleeve. Remus offered a smile and a wrist squeeze before he walked over to meet the others. Next to the tree, it was quiet, and they watched as Sirius sat down and began talking to the ground.
They couldn't hear exactly what was being said, but Sirius was an expressive speaker – always moving his hands and talking with his body.
"What do you think he's saying?" asked Peter after about a minute of watching.
"I don't know, probably something cathartic," answered Lily. "He's making a lot of hand gestures."
"That's just how he talks," muttered Remus.
James tapped him on the shoulder and when Remus looked at him, he asked, "Is he okay?"
Remus didn't know how to answer that, and he didn't want to speak on behalf of Sirius, so he just said, "He will be."
Another few minutes passed before Sirius stopped speaking with his departed mother and stood up. He brushed himself off and nodded, then walked over to them.
"Thank you," he said when he reached them. "All of you. For being here. It means a lot."
"You mean a lot," James said; Lily and Peter nodded in agreement.
Sirius smiled. It was a shaky sort of smile, the kind that someone gave when they were obviously trying to keep their emotions steady. He cleared his throat and said, "Right, then... Pint?"
"Now you're talking," Peter grinned, and led the way to their usual pub.
It was a week before another letter came: another formal one with the crest of an Advocate Firm on it. The group (James, Lily, Harry, and Peter) were all having breakfast at the Black-Lupin residence that morning. It was a tradition of sorts: once a week, the group would come around to eat Sirius's food because he was, quite frankly, a brilliant cook.
Sirius looked at the envelope with distaste. After a moment of staring at it, he muttered something to himself and opened it up, reading the contents with a straight face. When he was done, he threw the letter aside and took a bite of his scrambled eggs.
"Well?" asked James, never one for patience.
Sirius shrugged and replied, "It's just an invitation to a will reading."
"Your mother's?"
Peter made a face and said, "Who else's would it be?"
James shrugged, then said, "I thought you were taken out of the will when you ran away."
"I thought I was but I don't know for sure," replied Sirius. "I never got an official denouncement document. The likelihood is that because I was never formally disowned, my presence is required as part of a long list of formalities."
"You think she might have left you something?" asked Peter.
Sirius made a face and said, "Highly unlikely. The old bat despised me, and I her. The letter only says that because I'm the last surviving heir to my line, my presence is mandatory. I suppose that if she left me anything at all, it was probably a cursed bracelet or something. More likely is that she wants me to sit there like an idiot whilst everything is divided between my cousins and distant relatives."
"That sounds like something she'd do," muttered James.
Sirius hummed and took another bite of his eggs.
Remus reached under the table to take his hand and asked, "When is it?"
"Tomorrow."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, no. You have work. I can do it alone," Sirius said, gripping Remus's hand. "It's just a will reading."
"If you're sure..."
Sirius smiled, "I'm sure."
Remus returned from work the next day to find the love of his life sitting in the living room, staring at a blank television screen. It was eerily quiet in the flat and Remus was sure that wasn't a good thing.
"Padfoot?"
Sirius didn't startle. He merely blinked and turned to Remus. "Moony, hi," he greeted. "How was your day? Busy editing day?"
Remus studied the other man for a second, then said, "My day was fine." He shrugged off his coat and hung it up on the rack, then kicked off his shoes and moved into the living room to sit beside Sirius. "How did the will reading go?"
Sirius was quiet for a minute, then he said, "She left everything to me."
Remus frowned, "What?"
"Walburga," he answered, "She left everything to me. The advocate said that my father neglected to take me out of the will before he died, and then when Regulus... Well, she didn't take me out either. She wrote a whole letter about why. It was the usual lecture. You know, how I'm a massive disappointment and her biggest regret, yada-yada-ya, but she said she'd rather I take it all than any of the others get her shit. Aunt Dru was livid, Cissy and Bella were confused, and I just sat there. Silent."
"Oh," he replied, because what else was there to say?
"She left everything: money, townhouses, jewels, family heirlooms..." He cleared his throat and looked at Remus. "She left me Grimmauld Place."
It was a fiendish move from Walburga Black to leave her son a house that she knew caused him pain, but it was not unexpected. Walburga was a vicious and vindictive woman, even in death.
"That's... fucking diabolical," he muttered.
Sirius laughed and said, "Isn't it?"
"What are you going to do now, then?" he asked after a moment of introspective silence. "You are now officially one of the richest wizards in the United Kingdom."
Sirius made a face at that because he didn't like being rich. Comfortable, yes; disgustingly wealthy, absolutely not. He had been at the top of the world and also at the bottom, and Remus knew that he much preferred being on the lower end of the spectrum if it meant that he stayed humble and was able to keep appreciating what he had. Sirius didn't like having so much money when he didn't have need for it.
"I don't know what to do," he replied, looking like a lost puppy.
Remus put a hand on Sirius's neck and pulled him in, pressing their foreheads together. "We'll figure it out," he muttered. "We'll go to Grimmauld Place this weekend and you can decide then, okay?"
Sirius nodded and Remus pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"Merlin, I don't deserve you," Sirius muttered quietly as he shifted into Remus's space and wrapped his arms around Remus's middle.
"Fuck off, you deserve everything," Remus replied, returning the embrace.
Grimmauld Place was a tall, dark, intimidating building in central London.
As Remus stared up at it, he could only think of the negatives: it was where Sirius had spent his first fifteen years quiet and unsure and trying to please his parents; it was where Sirius had been locked away for weeks at a time, where Sirius had cried and laughed and almost went crazy; it was where Sirius had run away from in order to find a family that loved and cherished him, like the one in the house should have done. It was a place with bad echoes around every corner and ghosts along every hallway.
Remus had only visited a few times, never allowed inside the house, and it hadn't changed a bit since the last time he was there. Sirius was still beside him, looking up at the house with a blank expression.
After a few more seconds, Sirius sighed and said, "Come on, then. Let's get this over with."
He took Remus's hand in his own and they walked into the house together. It was dark, desolate, silent inside. It was unsettling to say the least. They walked through the house and paused in the living area: an austere black and silver cloaked room with highbacked emerald chairs, dark wood floors and furnishings, an old mirror hanging above a large fireplace.
"This place..."
Remus waited patiently for his partner to continue.
"I have so many awful memories here, but I also have some good ones." Sirius glanced around the room, pointed to the centre and said, "Right there, I taught Regulus how to walk and how to play Tick Tock. In that same place, my mother called me a wretched disappointment for the first time."
He led Remus to the next room: a dining room with a large table (too big for a family of four) and four chairs that looked very uncomfortable. "Here, I had some good family dinners, with Regulus and Andromeda, but my mother also hurled abuse at me every summer whilst my father ate his dinner in silence."
They moved into the next room, another entertainment area with a comfortable-looking sofa and a wall full of shelves that held many expensive-looking antiques. "I told my parents that I wasn't going to stop being friends with you lot in here, and my mother raised her hand to me for the first time."
They moved into the next room, a large study with a solid oak desk in the centre and two walls full of bookshelves. Sirius paused, released Remus's hand, moved into the room softly. He stroked the spines of the books reverently. Remus was sure Sirius had read them in his youth, just from the way he was looking at the tomes.
"My father taught me about literature in here," he said, taking a book from the shelf and thumbing through it. "My father taught me a lot in here, actually. But he also disowned me when I told him that I wasn't going to be marrying Elizabeth Crowntree or Helena Ravensworth or any of the other girls he had picked for me because I'd much rather marry a man." He put the book back in its place on the shelf and turned to Remus. "There are hundreds of memories in this room alone, and not all bad."
Remus moved into the room to stand beside Sirius, not touching him but just being there. "Padfoot, you don't have to go through this right now," he said. "We can come back another time. Or not at all, if you don't want to."
Sirius smiled at him and said, "I'm fine, Moony."
Remus studied the other man and then nodded, "Okay." He looked around the room, which was miles homelier than the others, but perhaps that was because it looked like it had been lived in, or perhaps it was because of all the books on the shelves, some of which he had read himself as a child. "Any ideas what you want to do with this place, then?"
Sirius sighed and leaned against the desk. "I don't know," he answered. "Burn it down. Keep it here so that I can wallow in misery whenever I want to."
Remus smiled and replied, "We can maybe burn it down, but I won't allow you to wander around like some nineteenth century gothic lord. Not here, anyhow."
Sirius laughed and glanced around the room. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet, but what I do know is that I don't want our kids growing up here. Far too dark for them."
Remus raised an eyebrow. "'Our kids'?" he repeated. They had talked about their future together – a home, marriage, maybe some sprogs – but it had all been very vague, all very in-the-future sort of talk. Nothing had been set in stone, apart from their home.
Sirius rolled his eyes and muttered, "You know what I mean. If we have kids, when we have kids, I don't want them anywhere near this place."
"I agree," Remus replied. "As nice as this place could be with a lick of paint and some better furniture, I like our house. And there are far too many rooms in this place. I mean, I love you, but I am not raising fifteen kids with you. Two, maybe three."
Sirius stood up and moved into Remus's space, wrapping his arms around Remus's middle. "What if I said I wanted a whole horde?" he asked. "Imagine it, a whole bunch of little yous and little mes running around, causing havoc..."
Remus grinned and returned the embrace, his arms coming up to rest lightly around Sirius's shoulders. "I am imagining it," he muttered, "And it's not happening."
Sirius sighed dramatically but said, "Fine. Two, maybe three."
They stood there for a second, the stillness of the house beating around them, and after a moment, Remus said, "Come on, let's get out of here. You can decide what to do with this place later."
Sirius nodded and said, "Okay."
When they were outside with the doors locked and the house firmly behind them, Sirius said, "Thank you for being here, Moony."
"I wouldn't be anywhere else."
Sirius smiled, "I love you."
"I know," he replied, "But not as much as I do you."
It was over a month before Sirius decided to face up to his inheritance troubles and decide what to do with it all. The man bounded into the kitchen one sunny Monday in May and planted a kiss on Remus's cheek before he said:
"I'm going to turn Grimmauld Place into a sanctuary."
Remus took a sip of his tea and watched as Sirius rounded to sit opposite him at the small table. Sirius's eyes were bright, and his grin was wide. It was an exciting prospect for him, clearly.
"A sanctuary, huh?"
Sirius nodded and said, "Yes. You said it yourself, the place has too many rooms for a family. And I thought, why not turn it into a place where people can find a family? I had Hogwarts, but not everyone does. It got me thinking, and I want it to be somewhere for people who are lost and need a little help finding their way."
Remus hummed, "So, you'd rent the rooms?"
"I don't really know yet," he said. "All I know is that I want it to be a place where people can feel safe being who they are. I could maybe hire someone to care for the house, to cook and clean and teach. I could open the library up for people to meander. I haven't really thought about it all properly yet but what do you think?"
"I think it's a brilliant idea, Padfoot," he answered honestly.
"Really?"
"Absolutely," he said. "Your mother would hate it, but if you want to change the legacy of that house, if you want to give the lost and forgotten a place to go, then I think this might be the best thing to do."
Sirius grinned, "Brilliant. I'm going to create a sanctuary."
It took four months before Grimmauld Place was looking anything close to welcoming.
The ancient furniture had been given away or sold, the walls had been stripped and painted with light colours, everything harmful had been removed and burned, the floors had been polished and some rooms had been carpeted. In short, the place had been gutted and was well on its way to being renovated.
It had been very much a group project with everyone, friends and family alike, pitching in when they could. There were still things to do: update the runes that protected the house, decide on a communal area for the future dwellers, buy furniture and beds and other such things, decide if it was going to be a case of renting cheap or offering free rooms. But all of that would come with time.
One rather hot Sunday in August found Remus and Sirius in the house, sitting on the carpeted floor of Orion Black's old study having just finished painting the last room of the house. Sirius had decided to keep the books but get rid of everything else, and they had painted the room white which had made the area look a lot bigger. Sirius's plan was to turn the room into a library of sorts where visitors could use the space to learn and grow.
"Wretched boy, messing with my house!" sounded a shrill voice, somewhat quiet because of how far away it was.
Remus rolled his eyes. That voice was all he had heard for the last few days, ever since he and Sirius had accidentally unearthed it from under a sheet in the loft. It was a portrait of Walburga Black in her later days – after all of the men in her life had left her – and the painting was just as bitter and rude as the real Walburga Black had been.
"What are you going to do with that?" he asked.
Sirius sighed and replied, "I don't know yet. Probably store it away somewhere. Or send it to Narcissa since she loved the old bint so much."
Remus grinned and muttered, "We should do it soon. She has an awfully shrill voice."
Sirius hummed in agreement and said, "Imagine living with it for fifteen years."
Remus laughed and, after a moment of silence, he nudged Sirius's foot with his own and said, "Hey, how are you feeling?"
"I'm good," Sirius said with a smile. "Really good. It's all coming together, isn't it? I reckon I could have this halfway house open by the end of the year at this rate."
"That's not what I meant," he replied.
Sirius had coped remarkably well with the loss of Walburga and the conversion of his childhood home, though Remus wasn't wholly surprised by that. Sirius had been going to a mind healer since he was in his early twenties and the witch, Aimee Leighis, was a miracle worker when it came to helping him sort through his problems. But Remus wanted to know how Sirius was feeling, straight from the dog's mouth – so to speak.
"Oh." Sirius took a second to ponder the question, glancing around the room. After a second, he said, "I'm okay, I suppose. I mean, she's dead. Like, really gone. She can't hurt me anymore. It's a weird feeling. I miss her but in an abstract sort of way."
"How do you mean?"
"I don't know how to describe it," he replied. "I suppose I miss what could have been. I know she's gone, and I'm not upset by that, but I wish I'd had the chance to make things right, you know? But I know that I couldn't have made things right with her because she was..." He shrugged. "...set in her ways. I'm okay that she's gone, and that I can't change the way we left things."
Remus hummed.
"I've talked it through with Aimee," he added. "She helped me understand a few things."
"That's good," Remus replied.
"It is," Sirius agreed. After another second of companionable silence, he pushed himself up and stretched out, then said, "Come on. I think we've done what we can with this place for today. Let's go home, sit on the sofa and watch something incredibly Muggle."
Remus grinned and held out his hand, allowing himself to be hauled up by the other man. They left the house with the decision to head home, climb into their pyjamas and watch a film.
Over the next few months, Remus and Sirius managed to turn Grimmauld Place into a home – with comfortable furniture, a welcoming atmosphere, and a promise to make things better in the future for the people who came to the house looking for help.
By the end of the year, the place was a popular haunt amongst those who had stumbled and lost their way but who did not want to stay lost forever. It became a place of hope, a place where people could be what they were and who they were without shame or fear of being judged, a place where people felt safe.
It was a place that Walburga Black would have hated, and that Sirius Black finally felt proud of.