The Hidden Painting

The Hidden Painting

A few more steps and they stood right in front of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. They didn't ring the doorbell; Remus just took a key out of his pocket and opened the door, stepping aside to let Harry pass.

An icy shiver ran down Harry's spine when the deadly silence welcomed him home.

Home. That's what he'd liked to call this house if he had ever been able to move in with his Godfather. Now it was just an empty house, which gave him memories he wished he could forget.

Remus left him alone with his thoughts. He stood at his side and waited patiently for him to go on. Harry did not know if he had the strength for it, though.

With a small sigh he walked further into the house, his feet leading the way into the kitchen without him realizing it. He sat down at the table, finding himself staring at the now dark fireplace.

Here he had talked for the last time to Sirius. The thought about his father being just as arrogant as Snape had ever told him was the reason for it. His Godfather's words had calmed him slightly without convincing him totally.

Harry's throat and eyes burned but he didn't want to cry. Not now when Remus was around. He would have understood but still.

The sound of Lupin clearing his throat startled him and he looked up.

"We have to be at the Burrow in three hours. Molly and Arthur are awaiting us. Maybe, we should start?"

He waited for Harry's answer before he left the kitchen again.

Stopping briefly in the almost dark hall, he looked at Harry. Remus could see the sadness and pain in his eyes, caused simply by the fact that they had to come back.

Remus smiled only half-hearted. He wouldn't tell Harry that he felt exactly the same way, being in this house.

They 'd come for Sirius' personal remains.

"Should we go up to his room first?"

Harry was still unable to say anything, fearing his voice would crack and his well-kept control was lost. So he nodded instead.

The dim Oil lamp could hardly lighten up the whole room. Remus turned it up a little until they were able to see more. But there was nothing to see at all.

It seemed that there was nothing personal except for a few clothes thrown carelessly in two of the drawers.

Harry found one of Hermione's S.P.E.W. batches on the table by the bed. She must have given it to Sirius at Christmas. He remembered them deeply in conversation at one time. He couldn't even smile about it.

"There is nothing here. I go and check the library and the drawing room. Maybe, I can find something."

Remus sent another worried look over at Harry but since he didn't answer or move, he walked out of the room leaving him alone.

For an endless time as it seemed, Harry stood deeply lost in his thoughts before he slowly walked out of the room. Unsure which way to go, he stopped and listened into the silence. Some lonely creaking noises from the old wooden floor reached his ears but that was the only sound he could hear. He wished he would hear the shrill, angry voice of Mrs. Black yelling at the top of her lounges at Sirius but nothing.

Sirius would never disturb the painting of his mother again, giving her a reason to scream. Harry wasn't even sure if the picture was still at the wall. He vaguely remembered Remus telling him about finding a way to reverse the permanent sticking charm.

Harry wandered along the dark hallway when he reached an even darker stair, leading up what must be the way to the attic. The black hole in the wall with its steep steps seemed to call him and carefully, he took each step up into nowhere. His outstretched hands knocked hard against a wooden door, forcing him finally to take out his wand.

"Lumos!"

The head of a House-elf sat instead of a normal doorknob and stared at Harry with hollow eyes. He turned the knob and the door opened without the expected squeak.

The air smelled dusty and spider-webs covered the ceiling and were spread all over the windows. A rocking horse with a broken nose stood beside a worn leather armchair, too dirty to even be touched. Old tattered robes hung from the ceiling like forgotten signs of another time.

Small footprints were all over the dirty floor and Harry suspected them to be Kreacher's. Sirius had told him that he came up hear from time to time to look for more treasures of his beloved Mistress.

An old cupboard stood nearby, its doors wide open and Harry looked inside. Nothing.

The same with an enormous trunk, wearing the emblem of the Black family. A few more or less small boxes bore some broken cups and plates. One was filled with pictures of the noble Black family that had been thrown away by Sirius, Harry remembered. Kreacher had probably taken them out of the bin, hiding them up here.

Harry looked around. There was nothing else up here and he was almost ready to leave when his eyes fell on something in the darkest corner, reflecting dimly the light coming from his wand. He moved closer, his heart beating rapidly. It was a mirror, covered completely by dust and spider-webs.

'The mirror of Erised' Harry thought for a short moment. His hand shot forward and wiped the dirt of the blinded glass, sending waves of dust into the air. He coughed hard before he had a look into the mirror.

Hope left as fast as it had come. His face was the only staring back at him, looking disappointed and at the verge of tears.

Harry kicked out for the useless piece of furniture, his view clouded with now freely streaming tears brought up by his anger. How stupid he was to hope and find a sign of Sirius.

Breathing harshly and almost choking on the water running from his eyes, he watched the mirror fall to the side, loosing its balance and hitting the floor hard before the glass shattered into a thousand pieces, sending up more clouds of dust.

Harry cried for some long minutes, his eyes never leaving the slightly shining remains of the broken mirror. Still upset, he wiped his eyes with anger shaken hands, clearing the blur away caused from all of his tears.

A silent 'Oh' escaped his mouth when he saw something leaning against the wall, hidden before by the large mirror. It had almost the same height as Harry; square in shape and very thin. It looked like a large picture or frame to Harry. Rough blankets were tied with ropes around it, hiding its heart from curious views.

He opened the knots with a lot of difficulties but finally they fell. His fingers hurt from the effort but he didn't care. Pushing the blankets aside, he revealed a slightly faded painting as he could see by the color of it.

First, he saw only a pair of long legs in tight, black trousers. A hand was pushed at his side, fingers hooked in the once shiny leather belt. The other arm was lifted and the young man leaned with his hand against the wall of a room, lit up by some torches besides his head. His hair fell in large black, waves down his shoulders. The almost black eyes looked straight ahead, gleaming with a fire of their own. A mocking smile was spread over his handsome face, showing a lot of confidence.

Harry saw the young man and shadows caused by even more tears clouded his view. He couldn't stop the sobs escaping his chest when he recognized him for who he was.

He thought his eyes had played him a trick when the man's eyes moved and grew large, wiping with it the mockery out of his smile. Now, he looked sad and Harry ought to see a single tear dwelling in the man's right eye.

Blinded by the silvery drops pouring from his own eyes, he reached out with one hand coming slowly closer to the parchment. The hand hooked inside the belt moved and when Harry put his shaking hand flat against the painting, the young man had done the same from inside of it, their palms meeting at the same place.

A tickling ran across Harry's hand and his skin felt pleasantly warm.

"Hello Harry!"

His sobbing increased and he couldn't stop his tears from falling even harder.

"Si-Sirius?"

He knew that it was Padfoot. He looked exactly the same he had in Snape's memories but he simply couldn't believe his eyes.

"Yes."

The smile looked very sad now and the tear rolled slowly down his cheek, leaving a silvery path on his skin.

"Don't cry. There's no need for it."

An angry laughter escaped Harry, so filled with pain it made Sirius' skin crawl by the sound.

"No, isn't it? What do you know, huh? You are dead and it's all my fault."

Sirius didn't answer. Just his thumb moved a bit like he would try and caress his hand to calm him down.

"Don't be silly, Lad, it wasn't your fault."

Harry pulled his hand back quickly, sending a hurt look on Sirius face. Guilt rushed through his veins but no word of excuse came from his mouth.

Sirius folded his arms briskly in front of his chest, leaning with his shoulder against the wall, watching Harry with big eyes.

"You know, I didn't choose to go, I did not want to. But, you didn't shoot me remember?"

He pushed his hair back behind his ears with a quick move.

"I know, that I didn't treat you the way you deserved it. I always saw James in you whenever I looked at you."

He paused for a moment. Harry just stared at his stricken face with water-filled eyes.

"But you are not James although I tried hard to bring him back. Through you. I was scared that I would forget him. And Lily. But I wanted to remember."

He looked deep in Harry's eyes.

"You are so much more than I admitted. You are brave like your Dad but you are full of cleverness like your Mum was."

Harry's chest heaved from his heart wrenching sobs.

"I... I am not..."

Sirius smiled again, his eyes full of pride.

"Yes you are. You ..."

Harry interrupted him, almost yelling into his face.

"I AM NOT. If I would have been as clever as you said, Voldemort had never fooled me. I'd never come to the Ministry and made you come after me. I... I would have not allowed for you to... Being killed!"

His soft little cries stopped his raging words.

"Oh, Harry, older and wiser Wizards have been fooled by the Dark Lord."

Sirius let out a small sigh.

"James would have done something reckless like always."

Harry looked at him with a startled look on his red face.

"Oh, I don't believe he'd put us in danger on purpose. But sometimes he tended to act first and think afterwards. That's another gift of you Mum, given to you.

You were clever enough to find a way all by yourself to London. You had the guts to face Voldemort and his Death-Eater, always caring for your friends when you were in danger, not loosing your head. That is very brave! And clever."

Sirius put his hand flat against the inside of the painting again, smiling at him full of love.

"You know, what you are, Harry? You are your Mum and Dad's heart. The better of them both. They would be really proud of you, Harry. Like I am proud of you."

Harry sobbed even harder. All the pain he had kept inside since the day Sirius went through the veil seemed to fall off of him. All the tears he couldn't cry before flowed freely now.

"I love you. I couldn't love you more if you were my own son, Harry. Always remember that."

Harry couldn't stand up anymore. He fell on the dirty floor, pulling his knees high up to his chest, embracing them with his arms in which he hid his wet face. After a little while he looked at the painting again only to find Sirius on the floor, too, leaning with his back against the stonewall. His hand still reached out for Harry.

Wiping his wet face, he reached slowly for the painting and Sirius' hand. Their palms seemed to meet once more, the same warm sensation spreading through Harry's skin.

They looked at each other, eyes never leaving the other person. Neither of them smiled.

Harry could read in his Godfather's face almost like in a book.

He saw the worried expression on it. Like so many times before, always concerned about his feelings.

He saw something like guilt on it. Because he had left him all by himself behind sooner that he'd planned? He'd probably never tell.

But mostly he saw love. He saw the same love on Sirius face he felt deep inside his heart for the man that was his Uncle and Godfather and Father, all in one person.

He didn't say anything, couldn't think of the right words.

There was no need for it. They understood each other.

Even when they couldn't be together anymore, they would never be apart.

A smile found its way through Harry's tears and when he looked at Sirius face in the painting, he found it returned.

They sat the same way when Remus came into the attic, looking for Harry.

* * *

Chapter 2

Remus POV

In the Shadows

Harry and Remus Lupin came back to Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

They didn't really talk to each other.

They should have because they shared the same sadness, the same pain caused by the same reason.

They simply couldn't.

It seemed they would loose their well-kept control over the grief they both felt for the friend and father figure who went through the veil.

But control was something they never really had.

Just grief.

It wasn't easy at all for Harry to find out that crying was a way of walking through the shadows. That tears could wash away and ease the pain. At least a little.

Now, it was Remus turn.

The stonewalls of the empty room sent icy shivers over his skin. He heard the creaking from the wooden floor. It sounded like the shadows would talk to him. Whispers from the dead, agonizing and painful.

Remus was in the drawing room where Sirius had spent most of his time when he was alone and everybody else was gone.

A few rare times Remus had managed to join his friend. Share some value hours with him, talking and remembering. For thirteen years they haven't seen each other. It was almost naturally that they tried to make up for the lost time.

The thought of Sirius gone forever brought tears to his eyes.

He wiped them away with his hand, angry about his friends' recklessness.

The last words he'd said were still in Remus ears.

"Come on, you can do better than that!"

His inner eye still saw the face of his friend.

The laughter seemed to be frozen in his features but Sirius eyes were wide from the shock when he was hit square in the chest.

A heavy sigh escaped Remus when he sat down on the chair in front of the desk. He put his hands flat on the wooden surface, trying to erase the shivers running through them.

He failed.

A silver tear ran down his cheek, dangling for the split of a second from his chin before it fell like a lonely raindrop onto the desk besides his long fingers.

His eyes searched the room for something familiar, something that might belong to his friend but couldn't see anything from where he sat.

Remus opened the drawer, once locked and inhabited by the Boggart. Now it was almost empty except for a worn book clad in leather. Golden letters were glued neatly on top of it forming two words. The color faded already and a few of them peeled off slowly.

Tears spilled from his eyes and clouded his view. Again, he wiped them away.

'The Marauders.'

He took the book out and laid it down between his hands. For a moment he hesitated to open it but then he simply did. He couldn't consider not doing it.

The first side. Four names were written on it in four different handwritings.

Moony, Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail.

Gone. All of them like dust in the wind. He almost hated himself for being the only one left.

On the other hand he needed to be here, to be alive. He had to watch out for Harry, take Sirius part at his side if he wanted to or not. For James and Lily and Sirius' sake.

He looked at the next pages. His friends were looking back at him, winking an eye or waving madly.

The pictures were taken at Hogwarts. In the Common room, their dormitories, in class or even in the forbidden Forrest. They never cared that they were not allowed to go there.

But most of the pictures were made in Hogsmeade. The village was their playground.

He couldn't recall how many countless times they had sneaked out of the castle, walking through the tunnels right into Honeydukes or the Shrieking Shack.

The hunted Castle. Didn't they take a picture of it?

Quickly, Remus turned the pages to find the picture. He wasn't even sure if Sirius had put it in here but he was lucky.

For a moment he could just stare at it. A big lump formed in his throat and he felt unable to breathe.

The sun had fallen slowly over the broken towers of the castle. The last dying rays of sunlight had bathed the gray walls in brilliant highlights, spreading their wings like loving arms of a mother over the two young man standing in front of it.

A soft breeze had caught a few strands of Sirius long black hair and they were blowing in his own, much younger face, mingling with his short, blond hair.

Remus saw how terribly he had looked. He remembered how tired he'd felt and that he could barely stand on his own two feet.

Sirius arm was wrapped around his shoulders and he could still feel, how he was pulled tight against his friend so he wouldn't fall down.

Smiles spread over both of their faces. His own tired and grateful for the support. Sirius smile was broad and charming as always.

Even in the picture it looked like Sirius meant it to.

'I will take care of you, no matter what!'

It was a morning after full Moon. Another night as a Werewolf.

He remembered how scared he was the first few times when the silver orb rose in the evening.

His blood was boiling with an unknown desire. His skin was itching and burning and all he wanted to do was run. Run and hide from his friends, not really knowing why.

So he ran, through the secret tunnels leading from Hogwarts into the Shrieking Shack.

There, alone in the darkening rooms, the full moon shining silver and bright into the windows, his transformation began.

Oh, how it had hurt.

He wanted to scratch and bite himself, a low growl rising in his slender chest until he was fully changed into the wolf he became every four weeks.

He wasn't scared anymore when he finally howled at the Moon.

He was a dangerous beast ready to kill, no matter if it was an animal or not.

Just a tiny part, a leftover from his human side told him not to harm humans. This part of his soul told him to stay where he was, away from the village.

With every passing minute in this cursed night, with every inch the moon was wandering around the velvet sky, it became harder for Remus to simply do nothing.

He needed to still his hunger. He wanted to pierce his teeth through delicate skin and taste fresh blood.

A low snarl filled the air constantly, speaking of the danger behind these walls, bidding every living creature to stay away.

It was the only sound in the quiet night until something else joined the warning.

Footsteps.

Far away at first, slowly growing louder with every step the person came closer and closer to the hidden beast.

The tall, lonely figure of a young man came into the Werewolf's view, seen even in the dim rays of moonlight cutting like knifes through the black night. The long hair swayed like a curtain around his broad shoulders and his eyes shone like black stars in his face.

The animal hissed at him full of anger, ready to jump and sink his teeth into the skin around his neck.

The small part in his soul that was still human told him not to.

The dark eyes watching the animal were wide and full of fear. But there was something else in them. Something that was familiar to the beast. Something that he had seen before, a long time ago as it seemed, when he was still human.

The intention to take care of his friend.

"I am not going away."

A loud howl was the response.

"I will not leave you alone."

The wolf stepped closer, his head pulled between strong shoulders.

"I am not scared, Remus!"

He knew, his voice was shivering and that he'd told a lie but Sirius eyes never left the eyes of his friend.

A dangerous growl escaped the broad chest. Moony stepped even closer.

Sirius leaned his head to the side. A small grin spread over his face, chasing the fear slowly out of his eyes.

"You think, we haven't noticed what was going on with you? That you left us always at full moon, telling us stupid excuses, being all weak when you came back?"

Moony showed his long, sharp teeth, hissing franticly.

"You think we would leave you alone in your pain?"

Sharp nails dug through the dirt, setting a whimpering howl free.

"I found a way to take care of you."

He smiled very happy, ignoring the fact that his friend was not nearly human at this moment.

"Watch me!"

He took his wand from his pocket and waved it around his head, uttering a spell Remus couldn't understand in his state. To his surprise, the tall figure that was Sirius Black a minute ago changed in front of his animal eyes into a huge, black dog with glowing eyes.

Immediately, the dangerous growling subsided. Moony sank graceful to his knees, lying down on the stone floor his head on his front paws, fully calm now.

Padfoot came closer, trailing a wet tongue over the wolf's ears before he laid down close beside him. He put his large head on Remus' shoulders, sighing deeply before he closed his eyes.

They stayed in this position until the morning dawned in bright orange colors and Remus body had changed back....

A weary hand wiped over tired eyes. Remus felt like he'd awaken from deep slumber.

Silent tears were all over his cheeks, leaving silver paths of grief behind.

Who would be at his side now that Sirius was gone? Who would take care of him and made sure that he would not hurt anyone as soon as the full moon stood high in the sky?

He cast a last look on the picture before he closed the book.

He didn't know how long he had sat here thinking about that special night. All he knew was that he had to go and look for Harry now.

Remus walked through the quiet house. With every room he found empty he felt lonelier. Where did he go?

"Harry? Harry where are you?"

No answer.

He climbed up the stairs to the third floor, calling out again for the boy. Only this time, he got an answer.

"Here. In the attic."

Harry's voice sounded heavy from crying. The sound let Remus hurry up to the dark room under the roof where he found Harry sitting in front of a large canvas. Tears running out of his eyes had painted fine, white lines on his dirty face.

Falling down on his knees, Remus swept Harry tight in a warm embrace. He pulled the shivering body as close as possibly. He felt the boy pushing his wet face against his shoulder, relaxing slightly in his arms.

His soft little cries finally subsided and he lifted his head. For a moment he stared into Remus face before he backed up, an embarrassed look in his eyes.

"I am fine."

He muttered through clenched teeth.

Remus shook his head in disbelieve, a sad smile on his face.

"No, your not. You can't be."

Harry pulled his knees high up to his chin.

"Why not?"

Angry, hurt and refusing any comfort his father's friend offered.

"Because I am not."

Harry saw tears start to dwell in Remus eyes.

"What..."

With big eyes he looked at his former teacher. Harry's head spun around when he heard the voice from the painting.

"He is missing me as much as you do, Harry."

For the first time since he came into the attic, Remus focused on the canvas behind Harry.

He saw that it was a painting.

He recognized the young man on it even when the color was faded and tears blurred his view. They streamed freely now over his face.

His friend looked exactly the way he had the night in the Shrieking Shack. The way, he would always remember him.

Remus nodded.

"Yes."

And his head fell down while his arms came up, shielding his face from Sirius knowing, sad brown eyes.

He wished they could spend just one more night side by side.

He wished that he could see his friend transform once more into Padfoot, the large black dog.

That he could feel for one last time the caring strength he received whenever they were walking together through the shadows of the night.

Harry got up to walk on silent feet out of the room, anxious not to disturb Remus. He was almost out of the door when he heard his Godfather speaking.

It was Sirius voice now that sounded all choked up and teary.

"I will miss you, too."

Careful he pulled the heavy wooden door shut behind him. He had the feeling that they would come to late to the Burrow. They needed to take care of a painting hidden for years first.

The End

Or?