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Remus must have told Sirius a million times not to come home to him. With Dumbledore unable to secure his position in the Wizarding World and the Ministry still looking after him, every short trip his best friend made to see him was dangerous. Not so much for Remus, who was hardly finding a job after his year as a professor, but for Sirius himself.
Of course, none of what Remus said could convince Sirius to stay away from him. In his flee, Dumbledore had sent him to warm countries such as Greece, Spain or North African countries. Near enough to be called when needed and yet far enough from the Dementors. Sirius mostly lived in muggle hotels with no stars on their signs, changing his location every one or two months. Luckily enough, he managed to get back his Gringott bank account: to this day, Remus hadn’t asked nor he wanted to know how and who did this for him.
The only thing Remus convinced Sirius to was to not come back during the nights of full moon. Those would expose him too much. Now everyone knew about his animagus form, and Remus lately was starting to feel different in the wolf form: more hungry, angrier perhaps. Maybe twelve years without his animal friends were starting to have an effect. The beast had gone softer while he had had company. Or so it seemed to Remus.
Sirius however always found the way to come to Remus the day after the full moon, when he was at his worst. He always came from the chimney, sunglasses on his eyes, shaved face and face covered or masked in any possible way. One time he was wearing theatrical make up and for a good moment Remus was sure he was going to tell him he had joined some kind of circus or company.
How he did get away with that, again, Remus never asked. If he had known it would have been dangerous, just a little bit, he would have asked Sirius to not come back again. But he had been alone for twelve long years thinking his best… why the hell did he kept telling himself that lie – thinking that the man he loved had betrayed them all. He was being selfish but he needed Sirius there. It was always the sunset – after all, Remus always slept all day on those occasions, there was no utility in coming in broad daylight.
With Harry’s involvement in the Three Wizard’s Tournament – honestly that kid was just as unlucky as James was able to put himself into danger. Lily would have been so stressed if she were alive – Sirius had moved closer. He lived in the mountains, eating scraps and having nothing but a little fire to warm him up. That’s how much he loved Harry. But he still came to Remus only once a month, suddenly afraid he might put him into trouble.
It was the 12th of July 1995 that evening. The sun had just settled below the horizon when the living room flashed green. Remus smiled, under his blanket. A cup of herbal tea on the table next to the sofa he also used as bed (there were no more than two or three rooms in his house: a small kitchen, an even smaller living room and a bathroom). “I guess the queen has arrived.” He said and could almost hear Sirius grin.
The other wizard sat on a stool opposite the sofa and puffed. “I am late. I had to wait for a family to go out of home to break in and use their chimney. I might even have stolen a couple of biscuits.”
Remus turned his head around and looked at Sirius reproachfully.
“What” he said “I didn’t touch anything else. And it was just one cookie. Do you have any idea how much it has been since I have had one?”
Remus sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the strength for a discussion like that. “You should have brought one with you.” He just said, with a tiny smile.
Sirius laughed like a bark and it filled the air. The house seemed suddenly more colorful and full of love. Love. It had been a long time since he felt it.
“Mr Lupin, your mother wouldn’t be proud of you.” Sirius joked.
“If by my mother you are referring to James, you are correct. Every mischief was consented as long as I didn’t take part in it.” How real was that. James always made sure Remus wasn’t going to put himself into trouble: he and Sirius could have everything, including the risk of being expelled, but he knew Remus and Peter couldn’t bear the thought of losing house points or detention. Peter. Who knew what happened and why he…
“You’re better not be thinking about that rat.” Said Sirius, as if he was reading into his mind. Remus licked his lips and sipped his tea. “’F course no.” he lied. And Sirius knew but he didn’t say anything.
The silence lasted for a couple of minutes but it wasn’t embarrassing or cold. They were there for each other like it hadn’t happened for a long time and they both could feel the years they had lost on their skin, on each wrinkle and in their bones.
It was Sirius who broke it. Like he always did. “I spoke with Dumbledore.”
Remus bit his lips but didn’t say anything. He was still angry at Dumbledore from last year since he acknowledged that the man had always known about Sirius innocence and had let him rot in a cell. That was the reason he decided to leave, but no one had to know. Not Harry and especially not Sirius.
“He wants to put the Order back together. And he asked me to use Grimmauld Place as the base, with him as the Secret-Keeper.” Sirius said and waited.
Remus didn’t raise his eyes from his cup. He knew the strongest weapon they had on Voldemort this time was the Order, but things hadn’t gone exactly well last time they formed it. They had lost so many people, so much young people and now they were less than they were then, crumbled and still not prepared enough. And Dumbledore freeing Sirius only to trap him again in his childhood home… Remus remembered how much he hated that house. How much he had cried every night before any kind of holiday, and the summer holidays were the worst.
It’s not that he didn’t trust Dumbledore or the Order. In that war those were the only hopes and the only side he’ll always side up with; he was still grateful at the headmaster for taking him all those years ago, and for the job he got two years ago but… some of the schemes were morally gray. And they, the Marauders, had suffered enough.
“And you have said yes, I suppose.”
Sirius nodded. “And I thought…” he was torturing his own hands, twisting his fingers and grasping everywhere, every inch of his skin. He always did that when he was nervous. Remus wondered what the hell he needed to ask him that made him so anxious. “…I thought you could come and live with me.”
Oh. Remus put his cup back on the table and looked at Sirius in those waiting, gray eyes.
Live with him. They hadn't exactly have the time or a reason to talk about their relationship, which had been more than rocky. Before the night of Halloween, 1981, they had already broken up because of the missions Dumbledore (that name, again) sent them in and they swore to each other they would have waited one another when things were getting better. Which wasn’t exactly what was going on there, but how much should they wait still?
Remus started to feel tingly: he had never felt like that in ages. He felt his heart beating louder in his chest and he felt his blood pulsing in places it hadn’t pulsed before. “Live with you?” he repeated, trying to take his time.
Sirius nodded, his knee jumping up and down, like a restless dog about to chase down a stick, unable to stay still. “I thought… I thought… it’s time. We waited twelve years and the war is on again and I don’t want to lose you again and Harry is in danger and…” Sirius was puking words out of his mouth and Remus had to suppress a laugh.
They were lonely. They had become adults and couldn’t even say when or why, amidst a broken-up youth that left them scarred. While Sirius was still talking, Moony interrupted him. “Yes.” He spoke. He knew it was the right choice.
He wondered what would happen if he would lose Sirius in the war and not for a single second he wanted to look back and regret that second. He knew he loved him and, by Merlin, he knew he missed his touches. Sometimes that year he had even fantasized about Sirius’ large and warm hands and his body. But above all he had missed waking up next to him and, in addition to all of that, he would never send him back to that house, full of bad memories, all by himself.
Sirius smiled so much he could have lightened the whole world.
“Yes?” he asked, just to be sure.
“Yes.” Repeated Remus.
And there was nothing more to add. They spent the rest of the evening talking about future plans, how to rearrange the place and Walburga’s portrait. They talked about memories, about that time when Remus and James broke into Grimmauld Place to take Sirius – who was in detention – away with them and how they had almost been caught. The tea slowly grew cold and the night went away.
Sunrise caught them still talking and smiling, and cruelly interrupted them.
At the first lights of day Sirius shut up. Then he slapped his tights and said “Right” before getting up. Remus, who had felt incredibly better up till now, started to feel his bones ache again and even more. “Right” He repeated and slowly got up and took the few steps that separated them from the chimney.
“I’ll tell you when it will be safe to come.” Sirius said and Remus nodded. He felt someting liquid and melting somewhere between his heart and his belly. “Right.” For the first time they wouldn’t wait much before seeing each other again.
“Until then…” Sirius said, and Remus frowned slightly. What else was there? But then he knew. Sirius grabbed his wrist – as if he was afraid Remus would stop him - and kissed him. And Remus wanted to scream, to sing… but all that he did was to kiss him back.
It was short but still they had short breath when they broke the kiss.
“Keep thinking about that.” Sirius said and stepped into the chimney.
“Sirius?” Remus called.
“Yes?” the man turned around worried.
“I sleep on the left side.”
They both smiled. Then Sirius disappeared in a flash.
Things were actually and incredibly getting better.