Unexpected Visitor

(started June 23, 2003)

After seeing Harry off at King's Cross station, Remus Lupin Apparated back to number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody had invited him to join them over a cup of tea, but he had turned them down, saying that he had work to do at headquarters, but that he'd see them at the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix later on that night.

In truth, he just needed time to himself, to think. The events that had transpired in the Department of Mysteries had been on this mind for the week. Though he hadn't discussed it with anyone else, losing Sirius had hit him hard. After all, he had lost him for twelve years to Azkaban, the whole time feeling quite alone, the only true Marauder left. Then Sirius had come back to him, along with the knowledge of what had really happened that Halloween night in 1981, and Remus had finally known the truth. But now, Voldemort had once again taken Sirius from him, in indirectly. If just wasn't fair.

When it had happened, Remus had had to keep his head together and his emotions in check, for Harry's sake. Remus would very much have liked to follow Sirius through that veil, to spare himself the pain that he was now feeling, but he knew that Harry and the Order needed him. At platform nine and three-quarters, he was sure that no one, especially Harry, had wanted to even mention Sirius' name, the grief still being too raw, and he knew that if he had let himself ponder it, he would have lost all control.

Once back at the run-down old manor, Remus headed upstairs to his bedroom, casting a furious glance at Kreacher when he heard the ugly old house-elf laughing with the portrait of Mrs. Black, Sirius' mother, and saying, "Finally, Master had paid the price for his being a blood traitor."

Entering his room, Remus collapsed into the armchair set at the hardwood desk, reached inside a desk drawer, and removed his leatherbound journal, a quill, and a bottle of ink. Loading the quill, he began to write:

June 24, 1995

I never thought that something like this could happen again. I never thought that I would have to go through this kind of pain again. I thought he'd be around forever, always there to joke around with on that rare occasion when my sense of humor flares up, always there to listen to my troubles, always there to help me during my transformations. But now he's gone.

Padfoot is gone.

Down in the Department of Mysteries, I thought that we had the upperhand on the Death Eaters, and when Dumbledore arrived, I thought surely we had won. If only Sirius hadn't been so absorbed in that duel, if only I had immediately Stunned Bellatrix Lestrange, if only I had reached him just a moment sooner. . . .

By now, Remus' tears were falling freely, smudging the ink on the parchment. So he placed the quill in the ink bottle, folded his arms on the surface of the desk, and buried his face in them.

It's all my fault. I should have immediately made sure that Sirius knew that Dumbledore had arrived; when he dueled, he didn't pay attention to anything else around him. I should have Stunned Bellatrix, I should have done something, anything. Then maybe he'd still be alive. I shouldn't have let him go in the first place; I could have tied him up and paid for it later; anything he could have dealt to me would have been better than not having him here at all. . . .

"What's with the waterworks, Moony, old chap?"

The voice had come from behind him, but he hadn't heard his door open or the pop of someone Apparating. But even if he had, it wouldn't have prepared him for hearing that voice and the short, barklike laugh that followed.

You're in denial, Remus. It can't be. No one can come back form the dead. Go on and look, but don't be expecting any miracles.

Wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper, Remus slowly turned the armchair around on its casters, and about fell onto the floor.

Standing there before Remus in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and smirking, was Sirius Black. He threw open his arms and said, "Surprise!"

Remus just gazed at him, mouth open in shock. When he didn't respond after several moments, Sirius gradually lowered his arms and frowned at Remus. "What, not pleased to see me?"

Vigorously shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, Remus whispered into his hands, "This is just a dream. It can't be real."

"But it isn't a dream, Moony. Did you think that death could keep old Padfoot from his best mate for long? You underestimate me! Where's Harry? Has he already gone back to the Muggles?"

Still at a loss for words, Remus looked up and merely nodded. Gingerly getting to his feet, Remus walked over to Sirius and reached out, finding that the man before him was quite solid. Stumbling backwards and falling back into the armchair, Remus sputtered, "But -- how did you -- it can't be -- never come back from -- but you -- you . . . you're dead!"

Smiling, Sirius replied, "Very good," as if Remus were a little child who had just discovered that two and two equal four. "I am dead. I don't know how I came back. I guess I just have some unfinished business here. I mean, I wasn't exactly expecting my dear cousin to blast me through that veil, now was i?"

Feeling suddenly very foolish for thinking that what must have been a dream was real, Remus covered his face with his hands again and rebuked himself. "Get a hold of yourself! You're just very tired and still grieving. This isn't happening. In a few hours, you'll wake up and find that it was all a dream. . . . " Tears began to leak from his tired eyes again. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted it to be a dream. . . .

Sirius walked over beside Remus, knelt, and placed an arm around his friend's shoulders. "It's all right, Moony. You mustn't blame yourself for what happened. It was all so fast, there was nothing you could have done differently, and if you hadn't kept your head, Harry would be gone as well. And as you know, that would have doomed the Wizarding world to suffer the terror of Voldemort. There's still that very good chance that Harry will defeat him! That will be the greatest honor that could be given to my memory, when Harry, my own godson, defeats Voldemort." He paused and spoke more quietly. "I don't have long. Tell Harry something for me?"

Remus nodded, still not able to look up.

"Tell Harry," Sirius continued, "not to blame himself, either. I know he does, just like with Cedric Diggory. I know it must be tearing him apart, first losing his parents, now me. But make sure that he knows that we are always with him, always looking out for him. Tell him that I loved him like my own son, loved him like a best friend, a brother even. Tell him that James and Lily say that they are so very proud of him. Just make sure he knows that, will you, Moony?" A tear made Sirius' voice crack.

Finally lifting his head, Remus looked over and smiled. "I will, Padfoot. Anything."

Sirius stood and walked back to the middle of the room, where he had appeared. "Oh, and two more things. I found my dear old mum here and forced her to tell me how to remove that dreadful portrait in the hall downstairs. All you need to do is hit if with a good Silencing Charm and a Reductor Curse at the same time. That ought to blast it right off. It should be interesting to see how clean the wall will be underneath it. And the second thing, you'll find a small package wrapped in brown paper and two letters in the middle drawer of the desk in my bedroom. Take the package and the letters next time you see Harry. He will be able to explain the package. One letter is for him, and the other is for you. Open them together." Tearing shining in his eyes, Sirius smiled. "I'll see you, Moony, when you get here."

"Take care of yourself, Padfoot," said Remus, watching as Sirius faded from sight.

A smile upon his face, Remus lifted his head, opened his eyes, and peered around the dark room; he had cried himself to sleep at his desk. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Remus stood and stretched. He checked his wristwatch and found that he had slept for about three hours. The meeting of the Order of the Phoenix would begin in thirty minutes.

Though the whole episode had just been a dream, Remus felt very comforted for some reason. He felt as if Sirius really had come to him, if only in spirit. Then something that Sirius had said in the dream came back to him.

" . . . you'll find a small package wrapped in brown paper and two letters in the middle drawer of the desk in my bedroom."

Maybe, just maybe . . .

Remus exited his bedroom and went down the hallway, stopping at the door at the end: Sirius' room. Checking to make sure that Kreacher wasn't around, Remus removed the ward that he had placed on the room to keep out the house-elf and let himself into the room.

Remus had made sure that the room stayed just as Sirius had left it: dirty robes lay in a pile in the corner; the bedsheets were pulled back and unmade; a stack of old issues of the Daily Prophet, journals, scrolls, and quills littered the desk. Remus could trace Sirius' path from his desk to his bedside table to the door, the last path Sirius had made in this room, after Remus had told him about what was happening in the Department of Mysteries.

"Sirius, they're in the Department of Mysteries . . . and Harry's fighting them."

Sirius looked up from the journal he had been writing in, and as he listened to the news, his dark eyes filled with horror. Without saying a word, he stood quickly, knocking the journal, quill, and ink bottle to the floor. He rushed to his bedside table to grab his wand and made for the door. But Remus blocked his way.

"No, Sirius. Other members of the Order are already on their way, and Dumbledore will be making his way here shortly. You're to stay here and fill him in. Snape suggested and I quite agree -- "

"Move out of my way." Sirius' voice was low and level, and the look in his eye left no room for argument. A weaker man would have jumped aside, but Remus stood his ground.

"No. I'll not have you go and get yourself killed and leave Harry with no one. He needs you -- "

"I'm not going to die." He raised his wand. "Don't make me use this against you, Remus. Move."

Remus could see that there was no reasoning with Sirius, so he allowed the latter through. "I suppose Kreacher can fill in Dumbledore then."

Now, as Remus surveyed the broken ink bottle, the large black stain on the floor and the journal, and the three inky footsteps that led to the bedside table, he no longer felt the urge to hurl a book across the room. He stepped into the room, careful to avoid mussing up anything, and made his way to the desk. After carefully pulling open the middle desk drawer, Remus was only faintly surprised to find the promised package and letters. He lifted them almost reverently from the depths of the drawer and closed it. He stared at them, half expecting them to disappear in a puff of smoke from his hands. Only when the call came up the stairs from downstairs did he break from his reverie.

"Remus!" Molly Weasley's voice held a note of sadness that she was no doubt trying very hard to hold in. "Come, dear, the meeting's starting."

Turning his head, but keeping his eyes on what lay in his hands, Remus called back, "I'm coming, Molly."

He dropped off the package and letters in his room before heading downstairs for the meeting. As he descended the stairs, the slightest hint of a smile crossed his face.