Compensation

Remus didn't, strictly speaking, actively *expect* Sirius Black to come swaggering into the Hog's Head in where he was sheltering from the lazy, thin rain outside, but he still wasn't surprised when a piece of parchment was suddenly thrust in front of his face, obscuring the view of his book. He looked up, schooling his expression into one of only mild curiosity, though from the glimpse he'd gotten of a few of the phrases, and the seal at the bottom, he knew what that document was. "Something interesting there?"

"Interesting!" Sirius snorted in indignation, sliding into the seat opposite and reading aloud. "'As of the second of July, blah blah blah, Ministry of Magic, blah blah, reverses its decision, yadda yadda yadda, all charges dropped, compensation, et cetera et cetera." He shoved it in Remus' face again as evidence, triumphant.

It took all of Remus' self-control not to grin and yell and - Merlin forbid, he could almost imagine James' pained expression as he demanded, 'What are we, pansies?' - actually reach over to hug Sirius. Instead, he just said, "Well, that's good," and returned to his book.

"Good?!"

The Animagus sounded like - what was that Muggle saying? A broken record. "Must you repeat everything I say?"

"It's a bit more than *good*, Moony." Pause. "You're just trying to aggravate me, aren't you?"

His lips twitched, and he ducked his head for a moment so Sirius couldn't see his face behind the book before closing it and laying it down solemnly. "Why yes, I think I am. Is it working?"

"James and I were a bad influence on you," he growled. "I will beat you to death with this piece of parchment, I swear. Come on, I seem to have a bit of spare money lying around. I'm buying. I'm going to drink you under the table."

Remus raised an eyebrow, remembering the many dozens of times he'd heard Sirius or James say those words before. Neither of them had ever managed. It was difficult to keep up with a werewolf's metabolism. "I'll enjoy watching you try."

Sirius grinned, ducking over to the bar and returning a few moments later with a small collection of bottles and two empty glasses. Setting them down, he rested his elbows on the table and gazed soberly at the werewolf across from him as Remus selected a Butterbeer and opened the bottle, hearing the soft schhhhhhhhh as the seal broke. When he lifted his eyes to stare back, Sirius looked away. "It's nothing. Just-- seeing you again. And being...free." He looked as if he was tasting the word. "James should be here. I feel like I've lost twelve years of my life."

"You have," he pointed out.

"No, I know, but..." He made a vague gesture with a hand, ending it by grabbing a bottle and cracking it open. "It doesn't seem like it was twelve years. I don't mean I wasn't living my life. I mean I lost it. I can't believe he's thirteen already."

"Nearly fourteen. And I do know what you mean. It's almost as though...we had our time, and suddenly the spotlight's moved, and we're just left wondering when everything passed on."

Sirius tilted the neck of the bottle across the table at him. "Look, there's no need to get philosophical on me, Moony. I just want to get pissed in this public bar where anyone could walk in and recognise me, and talk about old times."

He smiled; it was as though the piece of paper had unlocked a door and the old Sirius, the one he remembered from school, had leapt out yelling, 'It's me! I'm back! Did you miss me?' "Old times, hmm? Like the time you set out to prove to James that there was porn in the Restricted Section of the library?"

"And the time you tried to get out of detention by making those big gooey eyes at Professor McGonagall and telling her you were out of bed because you wanted to write your Transfiguration essay and you'd dropped your book in the bathrooms!"

"It would have worked, too, if you hadn't come up behind me asking why I was back from the kitchens already."

"Yeah. Everyone loved you." He fell silent, brooding a little. "I wish we could go back."

Remus studied the last few centimetres of Butterbeer, then drained them and pushed the empty bottle aside. "We can, you know. It's just down the road."

That provoked a sound of irritated, and he smiled. "Not the school, you great prat. Well, the school, but mostly the Marauders. I wish we could have that back. Remember when Lily and James told us they were getting engaged?"

He cast his thoughts back with a frown, feeling this must be a trick question. He really ought to remember something like that, and yet...it wasn't coming to him. "No."

"Exactly. We just knew anyway. Like a hive mind. It was..nice."

"Yeah, it was." He flicked a glance at his friend, noticing again his too-thin face, long hair (which at least now was freshly cleaned) and the faraway look in his eyes. "Remember Quidditch?" he asked tentatively. It wasn't what he wanted to ask, but it would lead to it, he hoped. Thinking about school had brought back a lot of things he'd always wondered. "Remember sixth year, that match against Slytherin, you were in a sulk because you were suspended from playing? James bet he could get the Quaffle through two goals in one shot--"

"Yeah, the arrogant prick--"

"Like you're not. And you told him that if he did it you'd shag him?"

"And he got it, too," Sirius added with a grin, fondly. "Won us the match, that did. The Slytherins were in a state of shock for the rest of the game."

"I didn't even think it was possible. Angles and trajectories and things."

"Oh, yeah, it's been done before. World Cup, 1924."

Remus shook his head; that wasn't the point. "He came up to us afterwards, remember? And dragged you off to the changing rooms saying something about your side of the bargain."

"Oh yeah, and it was all over the school by the next morning. I loved messing with the rumour mill. What about it?"

"Well..." He ran a tongue over his dry lips, impulsively grabbing another Butterbeer. "I was just wondering...did you?"

"Did I what? Love messing with the rumour mill? I just said I did."

"No. Shag him."

"Oh! No!" Was it a trick of the light or was Sirius actually blushing? "Well, not-- *technically*."

Intriguing. "How do you un-technically shag someone then?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. He was glad he'd brought this up, now.

"I, uh...gavehimablowjobintheshowers," he muttered, quiet and fast so that Remus might have had trouble hearing him if it wasn't for his hearing. Another advantage of lycanthropy.

A grin slowly spread across his face at the admission. "Padfoot, you are the biggest slut I have ever met. You're joking, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not. It was just one of those silly things. We were sixteen."

And if he had been still he probably would have asked what it was like. But restraining himself from voicing that curiosity aloud was easy. That didn't mean he wasn't going to have a little fun with this new morsel of information, though. "So what other sordid little affairs have you been keeping with me? Snogging sessions with Frank Longbottom in the library? Wild orgies with Lily's friends when you should have been studying?"

"You know I only went to the library to steal your notes off you, Moony. I won't deny the orgies though." A wicked grin that faded too quickly for Remus' liking - he enjoyed seeing Sirius in a playful mood.

"Did Lily ever find out?"

"Not that I know of. I don't think either of us ever told anyone."

"Lucky James." He realised just as he said it how that must have sounded, and almost tripped over his tongue in an effort to qualify the statement. "No, I mean-- not me. I was just thinking about all those girls that used to swoon over you." Sirius was still looking at him oddly, and he tried to exlain better. "You were beautiful. Not in a attracted-to-you way. In an I wish I could be you way. Everything was easy for you. I never knew who I was around you."

"Funny you should say that." Sirius' voice seemed slightly strained, and he mentally kicked himself. ~Had to go and make things awkward, didn't you Moony?~ "Neither did I."

"You were the biggest git in Britain," he replied promptly. "Does that help?

"And the stupidest one. I can't believe I ever thought it was you."

Remus started to look away, but Sirius managed to catch his eye and their gazes locked. For a moment he couldn't think of anything to say, then he managed to choke out, "Well I thought it was you. So we're even."

"I was caught standing in a blown up street laughing at Peter Pettigrew's bloody finger. It's hardly the same thing."

"But I'm-- well, it was entirely reasonable. You didn't have any reason to suspect Peter."

"I shouldn't have had any reason to suspect *you*. It wasn't your fault you got bitten. I'd known you for over ten years, you'd think I'd know my best friend better than that." Sometime while he was talking he'd reached across the table and grabbed Remus' hand firmly; his voice was earnest and almost pleading. He wanted, needed something.

Forgiveness, Remus thought. They both needed it. "Alright," he said slowly. "You were a stupid git. And I forgive you. Just like every other time." He felt the grip on his hand relax slightly. "Happy now?"

"Not yet. But I think I will be - after a good half hour of fetch in the park."

It had been a long time since they'd done that. He smiled, feeling the sun on his skin. "It's raining, Paddy."

"Good. You know I love getting dirty."

He laughed and nodded, pulling his hand free and standing up. "Alright, then, if you insist. Heel."

"Woof woof. That's dog speak for 'yes master'." He grabbed Remus' book for him as the werewolf pulled his jacket on, then the two friends walked out of the bar into the rain.

FIN