Chapter 2
That evening, Remus was in the glass conservatory, book tucked into his lap, when Peter found him. The sky was scored red, the sun blinking out over the hedgerows, and Remus could not sit still on the wicken chair or read the words dancing across his page.
There was a familiar, terrible emptiness inside of him that he could not fill. The moon was too close for comfort: it was strange how he could long for something and dread it at the same time.
"Hello, Moony," Peter said from the doorway. He flung himself down onto the settee on the other side of the room, his straw-blonde hair flopping into his pink face. "James told me you're staying for the full."
"Alright Wormtail." Remus murmured, snapping his book closed to smile at him and hoping it reached his eyes. “James is difficult to resist and Sirius gave an enthusiastic nod at the suggestion so I can't really say no now."
"It'll be fine." Peter replied absently. "We manage it at Hogwarts."
"I guess."
“Suppose I won’t have much use.” sighed Peter, and there was no malice to his voice, but his hands were wringing, fidgeting as he sat there. “You don’t need me to freeze the Willow here.”
“You also do a very good job at nibbling at our ears.” Remus raised an eyebrow and leaned forwards to look at him properly. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
Peter cracked a grin, showing his teeth. He clapped his palms on his knees and stood. “Come to dinner. James’ dad has made curry.”
*
When the moon arrived the next night, the emptiness had grown.
Hollow, Remus gnawed on a bar of chocolate that Peter had pushed into his hands that evening, but he didn’t have the stomach for anything else. Sirius had emerged from his room in the morning for breakfast, in clothes clearly borrowed from James, but he was still very silent. For hours, he did little but watch Remus, his dark stare on his back as Remus curled up on the Potter’s sofa.
They headed for the forest early. Fleamont had agreed to place wards around the manor in case the wolf was feeling particularly adventurous, but Remus still shivered as the four boys stepped out the back of the house, bitter bile creeping up his throat.
At night, the air had spun cold, biting at their cheeks, through their woolen jumpers, and the garden was all dark shapes and odd shadows, the strange whisper of the tall bushes, the short hoot of warblers and the chirp of crickets.
Sirius’ warm hand grazed at the small of his back as James led them through a creaking gate, long grass brushing at their ankles. Black silhouettes of trees loomed on the paling horizon, stretching onwards. In the sky, the silver moon hung, the only guiding light, and Remus found that he could barely look at it without his skin itching, knotting beneath his stiff joints. The damp scent of wild foxes and rabbits was stuck on his tongue as they picked their way over the straggling roots of yew trees and into the forest.
“Creepy.” Peter muttered, and then tripped over a stump, clinging onto James’ coat to halt his fall. Laughing, James shoved him upright as Sirius rolled his eyes, and Remus nearly smiled despite everything.
Soon, all he could see was thick trunks and brambles, nothing of the manor left behind them, and they broke out into a wide, star-lit clearing.
“It’s soon.” Remus said through gritted teeth when the moon began to writhe into his lungs, choking him blue. He was on the edge of something, the emptiness was rearing its fierce head. “Ch– Change. Now.”
“It’ll be alright, Moony.” James squeezed him on the shoulder with a firm palm, a gentle grin stretched across his face. Swallowing, Remus could not help but glance at Sirius, who nodded, short and simple, before stepping away without breaking their locked gaze.
Remus tilted his chin back to draw in a final, deep breath of freezing air. Around him, his friends were twisting and shrinking, into a large shag-coated dog, a squat brown rat, and a stag with sprawling antlers.
As Remus’ bones began to shift and crack, as the thrashing of his heart began to rise up to his ears, as the wolf crawled its way up through his chest, the strange animals circled him, like ghosts in the night.
*
Remus came gasping back into the world only to find that he was in bed. And then to find that he was not alone.
A warm body was curled around his own, the rise and fall of their low breathing in time with the gentle ticking of the clock on the far wall. Thick curtains were drawn across the windows, casting the room– the Potter's spare room– in a cool darkness, a soft emptiness, despite the erratic pulse of Remus’ heart in his ears, the rough thickness of his mouth.
He could have just as easily fallen back asleep, so heavy and aching was the exhaustion that tore at his worn muscles when he shifted against the pillows. Frowning, he glanced down to see that the person stretched along his side was none other than Sirius, who was still and half-asleep, but definitely alive.
Slipping an arm across his chest, Sirius tugged him back down onto the mattress.
"Moony." He murmured against his skin, voice hoarse and scratched, his lips brushing just under the swallow of his throat. "You're okay."
"He speaks.” Sharp pain laced up Remus’ spine and through his shoulders as he lifted a shaking hand to cradle the back of his neck, twisting his fingers into his dark hair like a tether-point. "Miracles do happen."
"Shut up."
“How was it?” He asked, staring up at the white ceiling. He could never really remember the nights of the Full Moon, nothing more than the growl of a dog, the smell of the pine trees, the agony of his bones snapping out of place. “No one was hurt?”
“The wolf was happy to see us.” Sirius raised his head to smile, and Merlin, Remus had missed that. He’d missed his stupid words, his laughter. “Knocked me right over. Don’t worry so much, we’re all fine.”
Remus wet his dry lips, and turned his face to look at him through the darkness. “Any reason why you couldn’t sleep in your own bed?”
Sighing, Sirius squirmed closer, his leg thrown over Remus’ knee, and Remus winced, heat rushing up to his cheeks as their skin pressed together. “I knew you’d panic when you woke up. Someone has to handle your dramatics, Moony.”
“Right. Well.” Remus mumbled, and for a slumbering moment, he was very quiet. Outside, the morning birds were calling once again. The sun must have long risen. "Let's go for a walk."
"No.”
“Yes.”
“No! You should be sleeping."
"I don't care." Remus replied, and the knots of his joints flared white-hot as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I want to walk. Just you and me."
Sitting up, Sirius tugged hard at the hem of Remus' cotton shirt, his hands sliding up his back to clamp down on his shoulders. "Don't make me stupefy you."
"I swear I'll go straight back to bed afterwards."
"Will you take an Unbreakable Vow to that end?"
"I can offer a pinky promise."
Sirius sniffed, but his grip loosened. Instead, he rested his forehead against the back of his neck, and Remus wished he would just stop touching him, and then wished he'd never stop at all.
"Fine." Sirius said.
Even by the time they had pulled on clean shirts and padded downstairs, no one was awake. Boots laced, Remus and Sirius started down one of the winding country roads, following the wind-worn sign posts into the green fields of grass rising over the hills. The morning was fresh and bright in the sky.
As they crossed over one of the styles, Sirius narrowed his eyes at the flocks of white sheep crowding the overgrown track.
“You want to chase them, don’t you?” Remus said.
“No.” Sirius scowled and tucked his hands deep inside the pockets of his jacket. “They’re all looking at me funny.”
“Maybe they can smell the wet dog.”
The pathways narrowed as the pair walked on, thin trees shooting up on either side. Over the slope of the ridge, red-chalk cliffs formed the stretching coast, mist rolling over the flat ocean beyond. Remus’ hip was starting to ache, jolting out of place when the ground grew too rocky.
Remus looked over at Sirius, chewing at his bottom lip and then asked– “Have you spoken to Regulus?”
The line of Sirius’ jaw tightened and he anchored his gaze on his shoes. "I don't want to talk about this." He muttered, but before he could quicken his pace, Remus had seized his arm to drag him back.
"You haven't been talking at all." He pointed out. His left boot had sunken into a patch of brown mud, but he still stood there, staring at Sirius, the bruise high on his temple, nearly washed out, the swallow of his throat.
“For this exact fucking reason!”
“But now you are.” Remus pressed, tightening his hold when he felt Sirius stiffen beneath him. “So tell me what happened.”
“I ran away.” Sirius said. “And I left him behind.”
There was no need to ask who he was.
“Sirius–”
“I asked him to come with me and he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do it." Sirius gritted his teeth as he spat it out, his eyes flashing razor-keen and miserable. Only once, Remus stroked a thumb over the sharp bone of his wrist, before dropping it. "I’ve fucking lost him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” Sirius snapped at him, before drawing in a long breath and he actually smiled at Remus, a quiet, shaking twist of his lips. “He’s gone. He’s theirs, now. And I’m– I don’t know what I am. But I’m not– I can’t go back to that house.”
“I wouldn’t let you.” Remus told him. “Neither would James or Peter.”
For a trembling moment, Sirius only watched him, and Remus worried that he’d said the wrong words, had pushed too far, but then Sirius started to trudge down the path again. Shivering as he followed, Remus yanked his coat tighter around his frame against a faint gust of cold wind sweeping up from the sea, thick with salt.
Sirius mumbled, “I think they know I’m here. Mother caught me as I was leaving."
"Did she--"
"Try to cut me into pieces? Yeah.” Sirius lifted up the corner of his shirt, the red gashes faded against his skin, and Remus’ gaze caught on it, stuttering over and over. “Diffindo.”
“You don’t think anyone will come to get you?”
“They have Regulus.” He lifted his chin, his voice harder than before, firm as stone. “They don’t need me.”
"Good." said Remus. "Because I do."
“Is that right?”
“Yeah,” Remus shoved at Sirius’ shoulder so that he stumbled off the path, trampling tall stalks of crops beneath his feet. “Who else could be quite as bloody irritating as you are?”
The wide pasture of golden reeds that they had been walking through tapered to an end, split by a coarse hedgerow of briar brambles. A wooden gate nestled in between the thickets, green moss creeping up the posts. It had creaked as Sirius shoved it open and stomped through, but Remus stood still.
"My mam loves these." Remus tilted his head, running his palm along the cold metal of the latch, damp collecting under his fingertips.
"What?" Sirius glanced back at him, fingers scraping his dark hair back from his face. "Old gates?"
"It's a kissing gate." Remus said. "You have to kiss over it to pass on through the field."
Sirius peered at the gate, one wary hand slipping down to where his wand stuck out of his waistband. "Is it cursed?"
"No." Remus smiled, biting at his bottom lip. "It's a muggle thing. Silly tradition."
"Oh." Sirius murmured, his grey eyes now fixed on Remus' mouth. Staring back at him, Remus warded back the hot, red flush creeping up his neck, and pushed at the stiff wood to step into the next meadow.
Above all else, his rage, his pride, his impulse, the main problem with Sirius Black was that Remus would always want him.