fic: Long-Forgotten Nights
Dec. 9th, 2009 04:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mini_festTitle: Long-Forgotten Nights
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kingzgurl
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,375
Prompt: mini_fest 2.33. “The ghost of Christmas past”
Timeline: Christmas Eve, Prisoner of Azkaban
Summary: Remus is visited by an old friend on a lonely Christmas Eve
***
Tick. Tick. Tick. Remus glanced at the clock yet again, noticing with slight irritation that only two minutes had passed since he had last looked at it. He was no stranger to quiet, lonely nights, but this was not a typical night.
Tick. Tick. Tick. The Christmas Eve feast had ended hours earlier, Remus knew because he had heard the commotion of the few students who spent the holidays at Hogwarts heading off to their dormitories. Since then, though, his office had been silent with the exception of the tick, tick, tick of the clock.
He could have gone to the feast and spent the evening with his colleagues, but Remus was not one to freely socialize, nor was he one to be cheerful on Christmas Eve, so he remained in his private chambers, waiting and listening to the steady tick, tick, tick that counted down to some unknown event.
Remus had tried to read and work on his lesson plans, but neither could hold his attention for longer than a few moments. His mind would unwillingly wander back to the castle and everything Hogwarts and meant to him and done for him. Hogwarts, where he had made his first friends, where he had gotten his first kiss, where he had grown up, where he had people who trusted him though they had no reason to. The castle was filled with memories, both good and bad, but they were memories Remus rarely wished to relive. Memories of fun and happiness, of pranks and studying, of love and betrayal.
Some days Remus would go about his lessons or even just for a walk on the grounds and be struck by a memory so strong it forced him to stop what he was doing until he had recovered his senses. He firmly avoided Gryffindor Tower, and a few weeks into term he had begun to avoid the Great Hall and other places on campus populated by both students and memories.
He craved the solace of his relative memory-free office and private chambers. It was the only room in the castle he didn’t see James and Sirius wrestling on the floor or pulling a devious prank while Peter watched on in silence or stood guard. It was the only place he was able to escape his past and see the potential for a future.
It was an uncertain future, to be certain. One in which Remus wanted to remain in his teaching post at Hogwarts, but also a future which he expected Sirius Black would ruin, as he always did.
Sirius Black. Remus grimaced and turned away from the window. The one man he tried desperately not to think of, and yet the only man who was always on his mind. Sirius Black, the carefree, brilliant prankster from their school days. Sirius Black, his lover, confidant, best friend, and partner from their post-Hogwarts years. Sirius Black, the lying, manipulative, murdering son-of-a-bitch who killed their friends and a group of innocent Muggles, destroying Remus’ life and his future.
These days, it seemed, Sirius Black was always on his mind. He tried to convince himself that it was because Sirius had escaped from Azkaban and was currently hunting Harry Potter, but he could not ignore the fact that Sirius had been in his thoughts every day since Voldemort had murdered Lily and James Potter based on Sirius’ information.
Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock continued, though Remus was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice the hands approaching midnight.
He had loved Sirius in a way he never knew he could love someone, and Sirius had loved him in the same manner. Or, at least, he said he had. Remus wasn’t so sure anymore. Sirius actions toward the end had begun to make him wonder, and twelve years of being alone to ponder their relationship had only served to make Remus more confused and angry than ever before. And now, with Sirius Black out for vengeance, and Harry Potter, son of James Potter, in need of protection, Remus had not been able to find a semblance of understanding his emotions.
Bong! Bong! Bong! The clock chimed, startling Remus from his reverie with a muffled gasp.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Someone pounded on the door to Remus’ office. He stood on shaky legs, clutching his hand to his chest in an effort to calm his rapidly beating heart. Before he could reach the door, however, it swung inward on its’ hinges, shattering the locking charms and wards Remus had put in place.
There, in the doorway, stood James Potter. He was silver and translucent, shimmering slightly in the flickering candle light, a haunting image of his twenty-one year old self with an uncharacteristic frown marring his still-boyish features.
“Moony,” James greeted him solemnly.
Remus wondered briefly if he was going crazy, but quickly decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if his evening could get any worse. “Prongs,” he greeted his old friend. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“Didn’t expect to be here,” the ghostly apparition replied in turn. “Got sent to show you a few things.”
“What’s that, then?” Remus asked curiously. In any other situation Remus might have been more confused or uncertain by the appearance of his friend, but it was Christmas Eve, and on Christmas Eve there was magic at work which no one could even begin to understand.
“Remus,” James started, moving into the room so the door swung shut behind him. “It was never supposed to be like this.”
“What wasn’t?” Remus asked, though he already knew exactly what James was talking about.
“You weren’t supposed to be alone tonight,” came the response. “Sirius wasn’t—“
“DON’T talk about him,” Remus spat angrily. “I don’t want to hear about him.”
“Moony,” James used his calm, but stubborn voice that Remus hadn’t heard in more than twenty years. “He was part of your life whether you like it or not, and he still is.”
Remus’ anger faded as quickly as it had flared up. “I don’t want to have anything to do with him,” he admitted, turning away from his friend’s ghostly gaze. “I just want him to leave me and Harry alone.”
“You don’t really want that, do you?” the shadow asked, circling so he stood in front of Remus again. “You don’t really want him out of your life.”
Remus avoided James’ eyes and instead turned his attention to the window. Taking a few steps closer to it, his shoulders sagged and he slouched in defeat. “No,” he whispered. “I just want to know why.”
“What do you remember the most about Sirius?” the ghost abruptly changed the subject and looked out the window.
“His arse?” Remus asked with a hint of a smile. Sirius had had a mighty fine arse back in the day. By far the best he had ever laid eyes on, and it was all for him.
“Try again,” James shuddered next to him. “And be serious.”
Remus stood there silently, watching the snow fall outside his window, as he thought about the question. “He was loyal… for the most part,” he answered finally. “Except when it came to Snape. And apparently You-Know-Who.”
“Ok,” James agreed. “But what else. Something more specific to Sirius.”
Remus knew what James was hinting at. Everyone always thought Sirius was a typical Gryffindor who would charge ahead into a situation without thinking about it first, but Remus and James both knew the truth. Sirius never did anything without a reason. Even if no one else knew the reason or understood why Sirius did something, he always had a reason for it. In Sirius’ head, there had to be a reason why he betrayed James and Lily. Just as now, he had to have a reason for wanting to kill Harry. No one else understood that fact, they all chalked it up to the Black family insanity, but Sirius always had a reason.
“He always did what he believed in,” Remus whispered softly, his voice filled with pain and regret.
Knowing Sirius as intimately as he did, and there was no one who knew him more intimately than Remus did, the werewolf knew Sirius had a reason for doing what he did. But what he didn’t understand was what on earth could have possibly convinced Sirius that James, Lily, and baby Harry were the enemy. He didn’t understand why Sirius would turn against him and leave him to face the world alone for twelve years.
“Yes,” James replied simply.
The pair stood silently together and stared out the window to look over the snow-covered grounds. Three stories below them, a black dog ran and frolicked in the snow, causing Remus to gasp softly and push his face against the glass, desperate for a clearer view of the dog. Remus watched as a second dog, larger this time and more nimble, joined the first. They played and rolled in the snow, pouncing and stalking, until they were joined by a larger animal. Remus didn’t have to look to know it was a stag that had joined the pair, and somewhere in there a rat desperately avoided the snow.
“Sirius didn’t want you to have to go through your transformations alone,” James said softly, watching as a single tear slipped down Remus’ cheek. “He convinced all of us to break wizarding law and Hogwarts rules and become Animagus so we could be with you.”
“I know,” Remus whispered, lifting his fingertips so they rested against the cool glass. “He loved me enough that the threat of punishment didn’t matter to him.”
Remus blinked back tears and those few seconds he could feel the cool glass slipping away from his finger tips. When his vision cleared, he saw they were standing in the Great Hall at Christmas. The decorations looked exactly the same as they did that evening, but Remus knew they were in another time. Dumbledore still had the faint trace of black in his beard, and he spotted a boy who looked remarkably like himself sitting alone at the end of the Gryffindor table.
“What are--?” Remus started to ask before James stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Just watch.”
He did as he was told and watched the younger version of himself pick at the food on his plate. He was even thinner and bruised than he was after a typical full moon, and Remus knew exactly which Christmas Eve he was seeing. He was seeing his sixth year, the month after Sirius had sent Snape down the tunnel under the Whomping Willow.
“Remus?” a handsome black-haired boy approached the younger Remus. “I know you don’t want to be around me, and I know you don’t trust me, but I just want you to listen for a minute.”
Younger Remus refused to look up and became even more interested in picking at his Shepard’s Pie, but his ears were perked in interest.
“I was stupid,” Sirius continued, his eyes fixed firmly on his feet where he was digging his toes into the stone floor. “Snape was just making me so mad, and then Regulus called you a dirty half-blood and,” Sirius paused to catch his breath. “I’m sorry. I just wanted them to know that you weren’t stupid and weak. I wanted them to see how fierce and amazing you are. I wanted them to see why—“ he stopped speaking mid-sentence and stared at the table until Remus was sure it would burst into flames.
“Why what?” young Remus asked, finally raising his eyes to look at Sirius.
“WhyIlikeyou,” Sirius said in a hurried breath, refusing to lift his gaze.
Remus watched as the younger version of himself cocked his head to the right and had a confused look on his face. “Can you repeat that?” he asked slowly, looking at Sirius as if he was seeing him for the first time.
“I wanted them to see why I like you,” Sirius repeated, biting his lip until Remus could see he had drawn blood.
“You like me,” Remus repeated in an even tone. “So you sent Snape looking for me so I’d kill him.”
“I’m sorry,” Sirius apologized quickly then fled from the room so quickly that young Remus wondered if he had even been there at all.
Remus watched the whole memory with interest. He clearly remember what had happened when he had found Sirius locked in a broom cupboard twenty minutes later, and his heart ached with the memory of finding someone who loved him so much it made them both do stupid things.
“Come,” James said, drawing Remus from his musings. “We still have much to see.”
Remus nodded, and moments later he found himself standing outside of a dirty flat building in Muggle London. It was a place he didn’t want to remember, but it was a place he couldn’t forget. After graduating from Hogwarts and finding themselves in the midst of a war, Remus had been unable to find a paying job and so had very little with which he could use to pay for a flat. Not that he would have been able to hold down a job if he had wanted to, but the inability to pay for anything more than the freezing hovel had meant this was the place he called home.
He watched with interest as Sirius Black, a few years older than he had been in the last memory, hurried down the street with his leather jacket pulled tightly shut. His eyes quickly scanned the numbers on the buildings and referenced the scrap of parchment in his hand, before he stopped in front of the dirty brown building and stared up at it with a mix of horror and confusion on his face.
Remus and James followed him when he started up the steps and climbed the three flights of stairs to Remus’ fourth-floor flat. He knocked on the door to Remus’ flat and waited expectantly, shifting uneasily from foot to foot while his eyes darted around the landing, where few feet away a woman was poking something into her arm, and passed that a man was asleep in a pile of what appeared to be garbage.
As soon as the younger Remus had opened the door the smallest bit Sirius had pushed through and slammed the door behind him before Remus and James had the chance to enter the flat. Remus shuddered when James took his arm and pulled him through a wall, reminding him that they were not solid beings nor were they in a solid world.
Inside the flat, Sirius was angry and shouting at Remus. “How can you live here!?” he raged, pushing his way through the bare apartment. The couch was threadbare and torn in places, the kitchen table was supported on one side by a stack of books, and there was no bed in the bedroom. “Christ, Moony, why didn’t you tell me you were living like this?”
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me,” Remus replied angrily. “I don’t need your pity or your charity, so go find someone else to feel bad for.”
“Moony,” Sirius continued as if Remus hadn’t spoken. “Come live with me. I’ve got plenty of space, and there’s a spare room with a bed if you want.”
“No,” Remus replied stubbornly. “I told you that you don’t need to feel sorry for me.”
Sirius sighed and his eyes softened while he watched Remus tidy the bare, but clean, room. He remained silent for a few minutes until Remus’ wasn’t moving in the stiff, robotic way he did when he was angry, then tried again, “Moony, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?” Remus demanded. His eyes and voice were still filled with anger and annoyance.
“I mean,” Sirius turned away to look at the couch rather than at Remus, “that you don’t deserve to live like this. No one does, but especially not you.”
“Why not?” Remus asked, “It’s not like I can keep a job or afford anything better, so why don’t I deserve to live in the only place I can afford?”
“Because it’s not your fault!” Sirius replied exasperatedly.
“I’m the one with the problem, and it’s my problem to deal with,” Remus’ anger had faded with his words. “Don’t worry about me.”
“But I do,” the dark-haired boy replied. “I do worry about you. I worry about you when you’re on a mission, I worry about you when I’m on a mission, I worry about you when I can’t be with you during a full moon, and I worry about you when I am with you during the full moon.”
“I’m not a girl,” Remus responded. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I know you’re not a girl,” Sirius assured him. “Trust me, I know you’re not,” he stepped closer to Remus and wrapped his arms around the thin man. “But I worry about you because I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I know,” Remus sighed in defeat and laid his head on Sirius’ shoulder. “But I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know you are,” Sirius continued to reassure him. “But it would make me feel better if I knew you weren’t living in this dung heap.”
“Does it really mean that much to you?” Remus whispered against his lover’s neck.
Sirius nodded carefully so as not to knock his chin against where the werewolf was currently cuddled up against him. “Please move in with me?”
“Ok,” Remus replied softly, placing a kiss on the soft skin of Sirius’ neck.
With that, they disapperated, leaving Remus and James alone in the empty flat.
“He was only looking out for you,” James said softly.
“I know,” Remus replied, his words nearly inaudible as the scene began to shift and change around them.
The next thing Remus saw was a damp, bare cell, dominated by large stone walls and a small iron gate on one of them. Remus had to stoop to keep from hitting his head on the low ceiling, and he vaguely wondered where they were, as Remus had never seen such a dark, depressing place. The whimper of an animal drew Remus’ attention to the corner of the cell, where a large black dog lay curled around itself in a shivering ball.
“Is this…” Remus trailed off, not ready to hear the answer to his question unasked question.
“Yes,” James answered.
Remus shivered in response and watched as the faint screaming from down the corridor got louder as the room got increasingly colder. The dog whimpered again and in the next moment a thin, dirty man was laying in a tight ball on the stone floor where the dog had just been.
“Sirius,” Remus whispered, fighting the urge to reach out for the man on the floor. He was still young, Remus noticed, he had probably only been in Azkaban a few months, at most.
“Remus,” the man whimpered in the same heartbroken tone that the dog had used. “I’m s-s-s-so s-s-s-sorry.”
Remus was startled to hear his name fall from Sirius’ lips. Immediately he grabbed James’ arm and turned to look at the apparition of his dead friend. “I’d like to go home now,” he demanded, his bright blue eyes shining from unshed tears. “I don’t want to see this anymore.”
James nodded and the scene shifted again, until they were once again standing in front of the window in Remus’ office, watching the empty grounds below.
“Remember how he is,” James reminded him cryptically.
Remus nodded and continued watching out the window as the clock continued to keep time in the background. Tick, tick, tick.
Bong! Remus’ attention moved from the falling snow to the large grandfather clock. Bong! Bong! The clock struck midnight for the second time that night.
Remus turned back to the window in time to see a single black dog run from the woods and toward the Whomping Willow. Before the clock finished chiming the hour, he ran away from the room and toward the Shrieking Shack with his broken heart filled with hope.
Author:
kingzgurlFandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,375
Prompt: mini_fest 2.33. “The ghost of Christmas past”
Timeline: Christmas Eve, Prisoner of Azkaban
Summary: Remus is visited by an old friend on a lonely Christmas Eve
***
Tick. Tick. Tick. Remus glanced at the clock yet again, noticing with slight irritation that only two minutes had passed since he had last looked at it. He was no stranger to quiet, lonely nights, but this was not a typical night.
Tick. Tick. Tick. The Christmas Eve feast had ended hours earlier, Remus knew because he had heard the commotion of the few students who spent the holidays at Hogwarts heading off to their dormitories. Since then, though, his office had been silent with the exception of the tick, tick, tick of the clock.
He could have gone to the feast and spent the evening with his colleagues, but Remus was not one to freely socialize, nor was he one to be cheerful on Christmas Eve, so he remained in his private chambers, waiting and listening to the steady tick, tick, tick that counted down to some unknown event.
Remus had tried to read and work on his lesson plans, but neither could hold his attention for longer than a few moments. His mind would unwillingly wander back to the castle and everything Hogwarts and meant to him and done for him. Hogwarts, where he had made his first friends, where he had gotten his first kiss, where he had grown up, where he had people who trusted him though they had no reason to. The castle was filled with memories, both good and bad, but they were memories Remus rarely wished to relive. Memories of fun and happiness, of pranks and studying, of love and betrayal.
Some days Remus would go about his lessons or even just for a walk on the grounds and be struck by a memory so strong it forced him to stop what he was doing until he had recovered his senses. He firmly avoided Gryffindor Tower, and a few weeks into term he had begun to avoid the Great Hall and other places on campus populated by both students and memories.
He craved the solace of his relative memory-free office and private chambers. It was the only room in the castle he didn’t see James and Sirius wrestling on the floor or pulling a devious prank while Peter watched on in silence or stood guard. It was the only place he was able to escape his past and see the potential for a future.
It was an uncertain future, to be certain. One in which Remus wanted to remain in his teaching post at Hogwarts, but also a future which he expected Sirius Black would ruin, as he always did.
Sirius Black. Remus grimaced and turned away from the window. The one man he tried desperately not to think of, and yet the only man who was always on his mind. Sirius Black, the carefree, brilliant prankster from their school days. Sirius Black, his lover, confidant, best friend, and partner from their post-Hogwarts years. Sirius Black, the lying, manipulative, murdering son-of-a-bitch who killed their friends and a group of innocent Muggles, destroying Remus’ life and his future.
These days, it seemed, Sirius Black was always on his mind. He tried to convince himself that it was because Sirius had escaped from Azkaban and was currently hunting Harry Potter, but he could not ignore the fact that Sirius had been in his thoughts every day since Voldemort had murdered Lily and James Potter based on Sirius’ information.
Tick. Tick. Tick. The clock continued, though Remus was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice the hands approaching midnight.
He had loved Sirius in a way he never knew he could love someone, and Sirius had loved him in the same manner. Or, at least, he said he had. Remus wasn’t so sure anymore. Sirius actions toward the end had begun to make him wonder, and twelve years of being alone to ponder their relationship had only served to make Remus more confused and angry than ever before. And now, with Sirius Black out for vengeance, and Harry Potter, son of James Potter, in need of protection, Remus had not been able to find a semblance of understanding his emotions.
Bong! Bong! Bong! The clock chimed, startling Remus from his reverie with a muffled gasp.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Someone pounded on the door to Remus’ office. He stood on shaky legs, clutching his hand to his chest in an effort to calm his rapidly beating heart. Before he could reach the door, however, it swung inward on its’ hinges, shattering the locking charms and wards Remus had put in place.
There, in the doorway, stood James Potter. He was silver and translucent, shimmering slightly in the flickering candle light, a haunting image of his twenty-one year old self with an uncharacteristic frown marring his still-boyish features.
“Moony,” James greeted him solemnly.
Remus wondered briefly if he was going crazy, but quickly decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if his evening could get any worse. “Prongs,” he greeted his old friend. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“Didn’t expect to be here,” the ghostly apparition replied in turn. “Got sent to show you a few things.”
“What’s that, then?” Remus asked curiously. In any other situation Remus might have been more confused or uncertain by the appearance of his friend, but it was Christmas Eve, and on Christmas Eve there was magic at work which no one could even begin to understand.
“Remus,” James started, moving into the room so the door swung shut behind him. “It was never supposed to be like this.”
“What wasn’t?” Remus asked, though he already knew exactly what James was talking about.
“You weren’t supposed to be alone tonight,” came the response. “Sirius wasn’t—“
“DON’T talk about him,” Remus spat angrily. “I don’t want to hear about him.”
“Moony,” James used his calm, but stubborn voice that Remus hadn’t heard in more than twenty years. “He was part of your life whether you like it or not, and he still is.”
Remus’ anger faded as quickly as it had flared up. “I don’t want to have anything to do with him,” he admitted, turning away from his friend’s ghostly gaze. “I just want him to leave me and Harry alone.”
“You don’t really want that, do you?” the shadow asked, circling so he stood in front of Remus again. “You don’t really want him out of your life.”
Remus avoided James’ eyes and instead turned his attention to the window. Taking a few steps closer to it, his shoulders sagged and he slouched in defeat. “No,” he whispered. “I just want to know why.”
“What do you remember the most about Sirius?” the ghost abruptly changed the subject and looked out the window.
“His arse?” Remus asked with a hint of a smile. Sirius had had a mighty fine arse back in the day. By far the best he had ever laid eyes on, and it was all for him.
“Try again,” James shuddered next to him. “And be serious.”
Remus stood there silently, watching the snow fall outside his window, as he thought about the question. “He was loyal… for the most part,” he answered finally. “Except when it came to Snape. And apparently You-Know-Who.”
“Ok,” James agreed. “But what else. Something more specific to Sirius.”
Remus knew what James was hinting at. Everyone always thought Sirius was a typical Gryffindor who would charge ahead into a situation without thinking about it first, but Remus and James both knew the truth. Sirius never did anything without a reason. Even if no one else knew the reason or understood why Sirius did something, he always had a reason for it. In Sirius’ head, there had to be a reason why he betrayed James and Lily. Just as now, he had to have a reason for wanting to kill Harry. No one else understood that fact, they all chalked it up to the Black family insanity, but Sirius always had a reason.
“He always did what he believed in,” Remus whispered softly, his voice filled with pain and regret.
Knowing Sirius as intimately as he did, and there was no one who knew him more intimately than Remus did, the werewolf knew Sirius had a reason for doing what he did. But what he didn’t understand was what on earth could have possibly convinced Sirius that James, Lily, and baby Harry were the enemy. He didn’t understand why Sirius would turn against him and leave him to face the world alone for twelve years.
“Yes,” James replied simply.
The pair stood silently together and stared out the window to look over the snow-covered grounds. Three stories below them, a black dog ran and frolicked in the snow, causing Remus to gasp softly and push his face against the glass, desperate for a clearer view of the dog. Remus watched as a second dog, larger this time and more nimble, joined the first. They played and rolled in the snow, pouncing and stalking, until they were joined by a larger animal. Remus didn’t have to look to know it was a stag that had joined the pair, and somewhere in there a rat desperately avoided the snow.
“Sirius didn’t want you to have to go through your transformations alone,” James said softly, watching as a single tear slipped down Remus’ cheek. “He convinced all of us to break wizarding law and Hogwarts rules and become Animagus so we could be with you.”
“I know,” Remus whispered, lifting his fingertips so they rested against the cool glass. “He loved me enough that the threat of punishment didn’t matter to him.”
Remus blinked back tears and those few seconds he could feel the cool glass slipping away from his finger tips. When his vision cleared, he saw they were standing in the Great Hall at Christmas. The decorations looked exactly the same as they did that evening, but Remus knew they were in another time. Dumbledore still had the faint trace of black in his beard, and he spotted a boy who looked remarkably like himself sitting alone at the end of the Gryffindor table.
“What are--?” Remus started to ask before James stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“Just watch.”
He did as he was told and watched the younger version of himself pick at the food on his plate. He was even thinner and bruised than he was after a typical full moon, and Remus knew exactly which Christmas Eve he was seeing. He was seeing his sixth year, the month after Sirius had sent Snape down the tunnel under the Whomping Willow.
“Remus?” a handsome black-haired boy approached the younger Remus. “I know you don’t want to be around me, and I know you don’t trust me, but I just want you to listen for a minute.”
Younger Remus refused to look up and became even more interested in picking at his Shepard’s Pie, but his ears were perked in interest.
“I was stupid,” Sirius continued, his eyes fixed firmly on his feet where he was digging his toes into the stone floor. “Snape was just making me so mad, and then Regulus called you a dirty half-blood and,” Sirius paused to catch his breath. “I’m sorry. I just wanted them to know that you weren’t stupid and weak. I wanted them to see how fierce and amazing you are. I wanted them to see why—“ he stopped speaking mid-sentence and stared at the table until Remus was sure it would burst into flames.
“Why what?” young Remus asked, finally raising his eyes to look at Sirius.
“WhyIlikeyou,” Sirius said in a hurried breath, refusing to lift his gaze.
Remus watched as the younger version of himself cocked his head to the right and had a confused look on his face. “Can you repeat that?” he asked slowly, looking at Sirius as if he was seeing him for the first time.
“I wanted them to see why I like you,” Sirius repeated, biting his lip until Remus could see he had drawn blood.
“You like me,” Remus repeated in an even tone. “So you sent Snape looking for me so I’d kill him.”
“I’m sorry,” Sirius apologized quickly then fled from the room so quickly that young Remus wondered if he had even been there at all.
Remus watched the whole memory with interest. He clearly remember what had happened when he had found Sirius locked in a broom cupboard twenty minutes later, and his heart ached with the memory of finding someone who loved him so much it made them both do stupid things.
“Come,” James said, drawing Remus from his musings. “We still have much to see.”
Remus nodded, and moments later he found himself standing outside of a dirty flat building in Muggle London. It was a place he didn’t want to remember, but it was a place he couldn’t forget. After graduating from Hogwarts and finding themselves in the midst of a war, Remus had been unable to find a paying job and so had very little with which he could use to pay for a flat. Not that he would have been able to hold down a job if he had wanted to, but the inability to pay for anything more than the freezing hovel had meant this was the place he called home.
He watched with interest as Sirius Black, a few years older than he had been in the last memory, hurried down the street with his leather jacket pulled tightly shut. His eyes quickly scanned the numbers on the buildings and referenced the scrap of parchment in his hand, before he stopped in front of the dirty brown building and stared up at it with a mix of horror and confusion on his face.
Remus and James followed him when he started up the steps and climbed the three flights of stairs to Remus’ fourth-floor flat. He knocked on the door to Remus’ flat and waited expectantly, shifting uneasily from foot to foot while his eyes darted around the landing, where few feet away a woman was poking something into her arm, and passed that a man was asleep in a pile of what appeared to be garbage.
As soon as the younger Remus had opened the door the smallest bit Sirius had pushed through and slammed the door behind him before Remus and James had the chance to enter the flat. Remus shuddered when James took his arm and pulled him through a wall, reminding him that they were not solid beings nor were they in a solid world.
Inside the flat, Sirius was angry and shouting at Remus. “How can you live here!?” he raged, pushing his way through the bare apartment. The couch was threadbare and torn in places, the kitchen table was supported on one side by a stack of books, and there was no bed in the bedroom. “Christ, Moony, why didn’t you tell me you were living like this?”
“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me,” Remus replied angrily. “I don’t need your pity or your charity, so go find someone else to feel bad for.”
“Moony,” Sirius continued as if Remus hadn’t spoken. “Come live with me. I’ve got plenty of space, and there’s a spare room with a bed if you want.”
“No,” Remus replied stubbornly. “I told you that you don’t need to feel sorry for me.”
Sirius sighed and his eyes softened while he watched Remus tidy the bare, but clean, room. He remained silent for a few minutes until Remus’ wasn’t moving in the stiff, robotic way he did when he was angry, then tried again, “Moony, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it?” Remus demanded. His eyes and voice were still filled with anger and annoyance.
“I mean,” Sirius turned away to look at the couch rather than at Remus, “that you don’t deserve to live like this. No one does, but especially not you.”
“Why not?” Remus asked, “It’s not like I can keep a job or afford anything better, so why don’t I deserve to live in the only place I can afford?”
“Because it’s not your fault!” Sirius replied exasperatedly.
“I’m the one with the problem, and it’s my problem to deal with,” Remus’ anger had faded with his words. “Don’t worry about me.”
“But I do,” the dark-haired boy replied. “I do worry about you. I worry about you when you’re on a mission, I worry about you when I’m on a mission, I worry about you when I can’t be with you during a full moon, and I worry about you when I am with you during the full moon.”
“I’m not a girl,” Remus responded. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I know you’re not a girl,” Sirius assured him. “Trust me, I know you’re not,” he stepped closer to Remus and wrapped his arms around the thin man. “But I worry about you because I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I know,” Remus sighed in defeat and laid his head on Sirius’ shoulder. “But I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know you are,” Sirius continued to reassure him. “But it would make me feel better if I knew you weren’t living in this dung heap.”
“Does it really mean that much to you?” Remus whispered against his lover’s neck.
Sirius nodded carefully so as not to knock his chin against where the werewolf was currently cuddled up against him. “Please move in with me?”
“Ok,” Remus replied softly, placing a kiss on the soft skin of Sirius’ neck.
With that, they disapperated, leaving Remus and James alone in the empty flat.
“He was only looking out for you,” James said softly.
“I know,” Remus replied, his words nearly inaudible as the scene began to shift and change around them.
The next thing Remus saw was a damp, bare cell, dominated by large stone walls and a small iron gate on one of them. Remus had to stoop to keep from hitting his head on the low ceiling, and he vaguely wondered where they were, as Remus had never seen such a dark, depressing place. The whimper of an animal drew Remus’ attention to the corner of the cell, where a large black dog lay curled around itself in a shivering ball.
“Is this…” Remus trailed off, not ready to hear the answer to his question unasked question.
“Yes,” James answered.
Remus shivered in response and watched as the faint screaming from down the corridor got louder as the room got increasingly colder. The dog whimpered again and in the next moment a thin, dirty man was laying in a tight ball on the stone floor where the dog had just been.
“Sirius,” Remus whispered, fighting the urge to reach out for the man on the floor. He was still young, Remus noticed, he had probably only been in Azkaban a few months, at most.
“Remus,” the man whimpered in the same heartbroken tone that the dog had used. “I’m s-s-s-so s-s-s-sorry.”
Remus was startled to hear his name fall from Sirius’ lips. Immediately he grabbed James’ arm and turned to look at the apparition of his dead friend. “I’d like to go home now,” he demanded, his bright blue eyes shining from unshed tears. “I don’t want to see this anymore.”
James nodded and the scene shifted again, until they were once again standing in front of the window in Remus’ office, watching the empty grounds below.
“Remember how he is,” James reminded him cryptically.
Remus nodded and continued watching out the window as the clock continued to keep time in the background. Tick, tick, tick.
Bong! Remus’ attention moved from the falling snow to the large grandfather clock. Bong! Bong! The clock struck midnight for the second time that night.
Remus turned back to the window in time to see a single black dog run from the woods and toward the Whomping Willow. Before the clock finished chiming the hour, he ran away from the room and toward the Shrieking Shack with his broken heart filled with hope.
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