On a Hill Crest

On a Hill Crest

by Dev-Aki Basaa

~~~~

The wind whipped over the rocks, whistling through the crevices and stirring dried, cracked leaves. In little tornadoes of twigs and brown grass, the wind picked up piles from one rock bed and deposited them in another, moving them along, across the hills above Hogsmeade.

Sirius sat, cross-legged, before the entrance of the cave he'd chosen. He'd already tethered Buckbeak inside, gathered blankets into a rather appealing pile and rigged his satchel to hang off a pointy outcropping of rock, safe from rodents and rain. He'd lived in worse places; this would be all right.

Remus stood before him, his hands shoved deep in his ratty corduroy coat. He had his head bowed and his hair rustled wildly with each low whistle of wind. It seemed as though the wind tried to gather Remus' hair along with the twigs and leaves. As brown as the blades of grass, perhaps it belonged with the wind's other piles of brown--at least, if wind could think, perhaps it'd think that.

Remus kicked a small stone. Sirius watched it clatter against the rocks and disappear over the edge. He shook his head and looked back at Remus.

"I never said you had to like it."

"I don't."

Sirius nodded. Remus didn't complain about much, nearly never in fact. Sirius had to appreciate being considered worth arguing over. However, this task was too important to simply give in because of a rare Remus pout.

"It's for Harry."

Remus sighed and, his head tilted to the side now, he looked up. "I know. Otherwise I'd likely collar Padfoot and drag you somewhere safer and...cleaner."

Sirius smiled, though he didn't think Remus meant that as a joke. Not given his flat and sincere expression.

"Ah, my Moony--a clean room is a luxury. This is necessity."

Remus glanced away, towards where Hogwarts stood. From this hill crest, the castle seemed a toy: small and delicate and harmless. Sirius frowned. Between the rumors, the vague Prophet reports, and Harry's letters, he knew better.

"I can't always come up here."

Sirius glanced back to find Remus focused on him. His hair rustled again, whipping into his eyes. He didn't flinch.

Sirius shrugged. "But you'll come when you can, I'll appreciate that. Harry and his friends will check in on me as well, Dumbledore'll send owls--"

"Sirius..."

Sirius huffed like Padfoot. He'd spent far too many hours in shaggy, black fur lately. "Moony, are you trying to talk me out of this?"

"No. I just don't like it."

Sirius grinned. "So I've heard."

Remus sagged. He shifted his stance into something less taunt and more relaxed. With one foot against a steep rock, he sighed again and, finally, grinned. "I'll be back in a few days."

Sirius rested against the cave wall, next to the narrow fissure. He could smell Buckbeak, a mix of dirt and animal stench. "I look forward to it."

Remus barked a laugh. "Good Merlin, you're as stubborn as ever."

"You say that like you're surprised."

"No, relieved, actually." Remus took two steps, putting him at Sirius' side. He looked down, his sincere expression returned. With a small smile, he gently fingered Sirius' hair. "I've missed your stubbornness."

Sirius caught his hand and brought it to his mouth. He rubbed a faded scar against his dry lips. "Don't get sentimental now, I won't let you leave."

"All right, all right." Remus leaned down and, just before he placed a sweet, soft kiss to Sirius' lips, Sirius saw the deep worry there, a waver in his gaze that gave away any light attitude he feigned.

"Be safe, please?" Remus said when he straightened.

"Aren't I always?"

Remus' lips quirked. "I'm not even going to answer that."

Sirius watched Remus hesitate, turn and then start his long climb down to Hogsmeade. The wind whipped, the whistle souring high enough to make Buckbeak cry in response. His squawk echoed in the cave. Remus' hair lashed and twisted, the wind making one last attempt to claim it.

Sirius sighed and leaned heavily against the rock. A part of him had wished Remus would have booked a stronger argument, demand that Sirius return to that shoddy flat he leased. He'd lighted there so briefly, in constant motion since his escape, so it was for the best when circumstances directed him to this cave. How else could he have ever torn himself from Remus' embrace now that he'd found it again?

With a shake of his head, Sirius turned and climbed--on hands and knees--into the small space he'd claimed. The wind would grow cold soon and, his mastery of magic still rusty, it might take him a bit to start a fire.

Yes, this would be all right. Provided he could dampen the ache he felt watching his Moony leave. He had to tell himself--there would be time for that later. Now, he had a godson to look after and a promise to fulfill for two dead, dear friends.

The End