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Sirius tilted his chair back on two legs and stared at the ceiling for several seconds before letting the chair come down again with a thud.
“For God’s sake, Sirius!” Molly was glaring at him, again. “Can’t you find something useful to do?”
“I’m sick of cleaning,” he growled. “And that’s the only useful thing Dumbledore will let me do.”
She seemed to understand his misery, because she sighed and came over, sitting down at the table opposite him, the knife she’d been about to set chopping vegetables still in her hand.
“I know,” she said. “Sorry I shouted at you. I’m just worried.”
“Yeah.” He stared at the table, then mumbled, “I just wish...”
“I know,” she said again. “Me too.”
He was sure they didn’t mean the same thing, but he appreciated her saying it all the same. Molly was a good sort when they weren’t talking about the kids. They both remained silent for a couple of minutes, until Molly exhaled wearily and got up.
“Better get on. The Order's meeting here tonight and they're always ravenous.”
“Mm,” he said. He ought to offer to help, but he hated cooking and wasn’t in the mood for doing anything he didn’t like.
“Did Albus tell you that Remus would be back this afternoon?” added Molly, pointing her wand at the knife, which started chopping a heap of onions. Sirius looked up.
“No! Really?” he said in his most casual voice. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the clock. “Er – did he say when? It’s three o’clock already.”
“Soon, I expect. Dumbledore wanted to talk to him before the meeting.”
“Great!” Sirius jumped up and Molly turned back to her chopping with a smile.
He peered up the staircase to the hallway, but there was nobody there. Obviously. He’d have heard if the door had opened. Sirius hoisted himself onto the end of the table, where he could watch the stairs. Remus had been out on an Order job for over a fortnight now. Sirius kept imagining what he might be doing. Surveillance, probably. Stealthiness, sneaking, maybe even a bit of fighting. Well, no, Remus was too level-headed for that. There’d have been a skirmish or two if Sirius had been with him, though. He grinned at the thought.
The best part was that since Remus’d been on such a long job, Dumbledore would probably let him have a few days of rest now. Remus was the only person who made this sodding place worthwhile. He ought to think of something to make it really fun this time, apart from the obvious, of course. Sirius considered it his duty to make Remus laugh as often as possible. Poor bloke was much too serious.
He pondered for several minutes, the only sounds the fire crackling at the other end of the room and Molly’s knives steadily chopping away at enough vegetables to feed the entire Order. All right, just something amusing for tonight – oh! Hah, he’d got it. He was brilliant! This’d be hilarious. As he detected the creaking of the front door, Sirius slid from the table and stationed himself at the bottom of the staircase, wand at the ready.
Quiet footsteps crossed the hall – he didn’t think Remus had ever wakened his Mum, not when he was alone. A moment later, scuffed shoes appeared, picking their way down the narrow, dingy stairs. Remus was still half a dozen steps from the bottom when Sirius cast a silent trip jinx. He seemed to catch his foot in something, shrieked, attempted to right himself, missed all the remaining steps, and crashed heavily into Sirius’s arms, mouth on mouth.
All he could think for the next few moments was that this hurt a lot more than he’d expected. Pain was all very well in its place, but this, with his head spinning from having hit the stone floor and blood running into his mouth and Remus’s elbow apparently sunk six inches into his rib cage, was not his idea of a good time. Eventually, Remus slid off him and Sirius struggled into a sitting position and spat out some of the blood.
“Welcome home,” he croaked, wiping his mouth with his sleeves.
“Fanksh.” Remus sounded muffled, and when Sirius turned to look at him, he realised that it was because Remus’s lip was badly cut and blood was streaming down his chin. He cast about for his wand, but Molly was already there. A wave of her wand, and the cut on Remus’s lip had closed up. She handed him a tea towel.
“Thanks, Molly,” said Remus, rather more clearly, once the tea towel was scarlet-streaked and his face barely bloody at all.
“Not to worry, dear,” she said, and turned to Sirius. “Are you hurt?”
“Nah, all the blood’s his,” he said. Even his head was barely spinning at all now. “He might have broken a rib or two, though.”
Molly rolled her eyes, but Remus looked horrified.
“Oh shit, Sirius, I’m sorry. I don’t know how I came to trip like that. Are you really hurt?”
“It’s all right,” he said, in his most magnanimous voice. “I don’t think they’re actually broken. Maybe a bit bruised.”
Remus made a face.
“I’m really sorry, I’m not normally that clumsy. Here.” He scrambled to his feet and held out a hand to Sirius. Sirius grasped it firmly and pulled, causing Remus to collapse on top of him again. Their mouths came together, this time without bloodshed, and Sirius gripped the back of Remus’s head, and closed his eyes, and this was what he’d been aiming for all along.
After a minute, Remus pulled away and got to his feet again. Sirius held up a hand with a beseeching smile on his face, but Remus ignored it.
“Sorry, Molly,” he said. “You can stop pretending not to have noticed us.”
“Just giving you some space,” she returned, plunging a large bunch of herbs into the enormous pot that stood on the stove. Having put the lid on and guided the pot into the oven with her wand, she came over and picked up a chair which had also been a casualty of the fall.
“Sorry,” said Remus yet again. Sirius giggled to himself. His little trick might not have gone quite to plan, but seeing Remus apologise over and over again for his carelessness was extremely funny. Molly raised her eyebrows.
“Stop apologising, Remus,” she said firmly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Tripping over my own feet…”
“I think you’ll find that Sirius –” she began.
“Hey, Remus!” said Sirius loudly. “You dropped a bit of parchment when you fell, look!” He gestured at the parchment which lay under the chair Molly had just picked up. The distraction was more effective than he’d anticipated: Remus dived for the parchment and then, when he realised Molly had already picked it up, went for his wand. But it was too late. Molly was already studying it and looking rather interested. Remus dropped his wand on the table, sank into a chair, and buried his face in his hands.
Sirius, startled and amused, looked from one to the other. Remus was whimpering slightly and, if Sirius knew the signs, would probably make a run for it any minute. Molly, on the other hand, had sat down at the table to study the parchment more closely and was nodding every now and again. Sirius patted Remus on the shoulder.
“What is it?” he said, peering over curiously, but unable to make out any detail. Molly looked up and smiled.
“These all look very interesting,” she said. Remus let out a little wail. “I particularly like the idea of Variant C of the fourth idea. Although on the third I wouldn’t recommend Variant A. We’ve tried something very similar and Arthur’s hip hasn’t been the same since.”
“But what is it?” Sirius lunged across the table and snatched the parchment.
“Well, you enjoy that,” said Molly briskly. “I’m going to go and check Kreacher hasn’t clogged all the toilets again before everybody gets here. See you later.”
And she departed, leaving a ringing silence behind her. Sirius was staring at the parchment and his ears felt hot. Remus had fallen silent. The sounds of Molly’s footsteps died away above them. Sirius cleared his throat, then cleared it again.
“This is very…” he began, and cleared his throat once more. “Very imaginative.”
“Oh, give it here!” Remus grabbed it and leapt up. “I’ll burn it –”
Sirius also jumped up, blocking his way to the fireplace at the other end of the room.
“No!” he said, a little too loudly. “I mean no, why don’t we… you know, keep it? For a bit. At least until I’ve got it memorised. Although Molly’s right about Variant A, apparently it really hurts.”
“Oh well,” mumbled Remus, his face bright red. “I was only throwing a few ideas out there. Using my imagination. Making some sketches. Thought it might be fun. Surveillance is really boring, you know.”
Sirius started to laugh.
“It’s not funny!” said Remus indignantly. “That was really embarassing, with Molly!”
He shuddered at the memory, then punched Sirius in the arm as he laughed even harder.
“Stop it, Sirius!”
“Oh, Remus, don’t get your knickers in a twist. She didn’t care.” He stopped laughing, though, and planted a quick kiss on the side of Remus’s face instead. “Come on, it doesn’t matter. Everyone knows we’re shagging anyway.” He grabbed Remus’s hand and pulled him towards the door. “I liked the look of the first idea. Variant B. Let’s try it.”
“I’m not sure I’m really in the mood after that,” said Remus, though he looked slightly mollified.
“Ahh, come on,” Sirius wheedled. He towed Remus up the stairs to the hallway. “I’ll make you a sandwich after.”
“Steak?”
“With mustard mayonnaise and onions.”
“Hmm,” said Remus, pausing outside the bedroom. “Well, if you make it really rare with a hint of garlic…”
“Oh, stop it,” said Sirius, opening the door. “It’ll be perfect. Much like you.”
“Well, thanks,” said Remus. The door closed behind them.