Flames

Flames

"Harry, it's time," said a soft voice from the door of Harry's room, and Harry looked up at Lupin, who stood there, dressed in black robes. Harry choked and looked away again, and Lupin came to sit beside him, a gentle arm around his shoulders, which quickly changed into a hug as Harry began to sob quietly. Lupin didn't tell him to hush, or try to stop him, just rocked him like a little child, kissed his hair, and allowed a few of his own tears to fall.

"I brought the car. I thought it best not to anger your relatives," he said, after a while.

"I don't want to go. It's too...final," said Harry, realizing with shock that Remus still had bruises from Harry's struggle to follow Sirius, to drag him back.

"I know. Now that it is all out in the open, you need to go - if you are seen honouring Sirius' memory, that gives a stronger vote of confidence than even Dumbledore's attendance," replied Remus. "I almost didn't come either."

"But your presence..." began Harry. Remus shook his head.

"Will go unnoticed," he replied. "Come on. They won't start without us."

Harry reached out for Lupin's hand as they walked downstairs to the car. Tonks was behind the wheel, her hair black, and her eyes bloodshot.

"We'll both sit in the back," said Lupin to her. Harry silently thanked him, and Remus looked as though he knew about Harry's unspoken gratitude. Harry had never seen those eyes look so old, the lines so deep and ragged.

"Harry, are you ok?" asked Tonks. Harry shook his head.

"No. You?"

"No. Remus?"

Remus didn't answer, and Harry tugged at his arm. His fingers met grooves where there should be none, and he pulled back the black robes to see a mesh of fine cuts on Remus' arms, none deep, just enough to draw the blood to the surface.

"How..." asked Harry. Remus looked at him, strange, fey.

"I know that I am alive. Sometimes I need proof," he said in his calm, measured voice. "None is deep enough to kill. Don't worry, Harry."

"I am worried, though," said Harry, dangerously close to tears again. "I want to come and live with you. Please let me come, I've been at the Dursleys' long enough. I don't want you in pain, Professor."

"Remus, Harry," said Lupin, stroking back Harry's hair. "There is nothing you can do to ease what I feel. Sirius died the way that he wanted to."

"Sirius' death was my fault," said Harry, and Tonks choked in the front of the car.

"Don't you EVER, EVER say that!" she said.

"But it was! If I hadn't...hadn't...I don't care what anyone says, it was...I may as well have killed him myself! I killed Sirius! That's what everyone knows, and they're all too afraid to..." Lupin slapped him. Hard. Harry looked at Lupin in shock.

"Harry, stop it," he said, and for the first time, Harry saw him angry. "You did not kill Siri. You did not hold the wand, and don't you say that you may as well have, because the variables in the equation could have changed, and Siri would still be dead. If Sirius knew...how you felt...he would box your ears for being a bloody idiot."

"As if he wouldn't box yours too, Moony," said Tonks, almost inaudible. Harry was hardly breathing. This was the first time anyone had actually confronted him about his attitude towards the death. Lupin muttered a quick healing charm to take the angry red mark from Harry's face.

"Th...thank you," said Harry, determined not to cry anymore.

"If Dumbledore allows it, you may come and live with me," said Remus, softly. "And I hope to Godric that he does."

"So do I," replied Harry, reaching out for Lupin's hand again as Tonks navigated parking the car in a spot that was too small even for a motorbike.

"Harry!" yelped Hermione, hugging him tight. "I am so, so sorry."

She had clearly arrived with the Weasleys, who gathered around him, and he was smothered with good wishes and he just wanted to escape. Molly Weasley, however, hugged Remus tightly.

"Oh Remy. How are you holding up?"

"To lose him once was bad enough," replied Lupin. Molly kissed his cheek, and he bent into her, crying softly. Harry had never seen this side of Remus, a side that could feel anger and pain, and he still felt guilty about killing Sirius.

"Harry," said a soft voice, and Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder. "You look well."

"Thank you, Professor," said Harry, numb. Dumbledore's hands were shaking.

"You do not know the customs for farewelling an Auror, do you?" he asked, softy. "I will need you and Remus to come forward and light the fire. Of course we have no...remains, but we will still light the pyre."

"Um...ok," said Harry, as Molly let go of Remus, who turned to Dumbledore.

"I haven't told him," said Remus, and Dumbledore nodded.

"I am sorry, Remus," he said, shaking Remus' hand, and then pulling the werewolf into a hug. "I know that this is hard for you."

Remus laid his head on Dumbledore's shoulder, and Harry wondered at how easily the pair hugged. No-one much hugged Harry. Dumbledore was petting Remus like a child, soothing him. How much had Sirius meant to Remus?

"Remus, go and get Fawkes," said Dumbledore. "I will talk to Harry."

Remus nodded, and Harry wondered how Remus would know where the phoenix was. Dumbledore led Harry away from the clamour and the well-meaning Weasleys.

"Harry, there are some things you should know. When the time comes, you and Remus will take Fawkes to the pyre. Remus knows when. Fawkes will give you a feather - just one each, and you are to take it in your hands. Think of your best and brightest memories of Sirius, and the flames will leap high. Then you put the feathers on the pyre, and it will burn for him."

"I...I understand," said Harry, and Dumbledore nodded. "Why us?"

"You because you are the closest that Sirius ever had to a son. Remus...because they were handfasted. He and Sirius have...had been together since high school."

"Sirius was gay?" asked Harry. Dumbledore nodded. Harry smiled sadly in return.

"Yes. A lot of wizards are...that's why the population is so small," he said, as Remus returned with Fawkes. Fawkes recognized Harry, and jumped to his shoulder, combing his hair with a nimble beak. Harry smiled wanly at Fawkes, who seemed to understand. He reached out for Lupin's hand again, and to Harry's surprise, Lupin took it.

"Albus...may I take Harry for the rest of the holidays?" asked Remus, softly. "I think it will help. I can start to train him...I'll get Severus to help."

"Yes, Remus. I was going to suggest it myself," replied Dumbledore. "I must go. We should begin."

"Sirius Black was a brave, loyal man. He died in the line of his work, and it is only posthumously that his name has been cleared. Many of you knew Black only as a good-looking young wag in school, then as a blurry figure in the newspapers, although those who loved him knew a different man. They knew a man who would fight for what he believed in, this time to the point of no return. As in school, he was a loyal friend, unaware that his loyalty and love would see him in prison for a large proportion of his too-short life," Dumbledore paused, and beside Harry, Remus tried to disguise a sob. Harry put his arms around Remus, suddenly feeling very old, very grown up.

"You ok?" he whispered. Remus nodded, as Dumbledore continued.

"Evading all of the odds, and using his formidable intelligence, Sirius Black was able to escape Azkaban, and was instrumental in the fight against he-who-shall-not-be-named. It was in this fight that Sirius met his death. Before his death, Sirius was of great comfort to his godson, Harry Potter, and was bound to the man he termed his mate, Remus Lupin. Please rise as these beloved friends light the pyre."

Harry felt like he was outside his body, looking in at himself framed by a backdrop of grieving friends - Tonks had an arm around Ginny, Ron and Hermione were hugged close, Hermione's face wreaked by tears. He and Lupin knelt by the wood, and Fawkes lit on Harry's hand.

"He will give you a feather. Think of Siri, and then cast it into the pyre," whispered Remus, and Harry nodded as he felt a slight warmth in his hands. Fawkes skipped to Lupin, and Harry held the feather tight, thinking of Sirius. No, not Sirius dying. Sirius gambolling in the fields, Sirius hiding in the cave and coming out for Harry, Sirius' dry sense of humour in his letters. Sirius hugging him tight, Sirius telling him that he wanted Harry to live with him. The feather twisted in his hands. The beautiful Sirius in the penesieve, the Sirius who thought that Harry was James but that was ok because he was Sirius, Sirius, Sirius. The feather began to glow, and the glow spread out, warming him through. Sirius as Padfoot, with a doggy grin on his face, putting his paws on Harry's shoulder to lick Harry's reluctantly ginning face, doggy breath fogging up his glasses. For an instant Harry was there again, but his glasses were misted with tears, not Padfoot's breath. The brightly coloured birds who had arrived, the knot of excitement when he saw Sirius' head in the fire. The glow shot out around him, and the warmth spread to every part of his body. He knew it was time.

Harry put the feather to the wood as there was an explosion of flame beside him. Lupin was wreathed in the phoenix fire, but he still didn't put the feather down as the flames climbed higher and higher.

"Remus!" cried out Harry, panicked. Remus had his eyes closed, and the flames roared, but he still didn't put the feather in the fire. Harry reached out and put his hand over Remus', and the memories rushed into him like the flames that had spread to surround them both...Sirius begging for forgiveness, Sirius laughing in class, tossing his beautiful mane and poking Remus' ribs, Sirius under a full moon, playing with Moony, Sirius bringing breakfast in bed, Sirius in his Auror's robes, tired yet still beautiful. Harry couldn't breathe. Arms around Sirius' waist, his hair blustering into Remus' face as they rode the flying motorcycle, Sirius smelling like shampoo and something else, Sirius returning after being gone so, so very long, Sirius flying, flying...Remus was starting to shake. He looked at Harry, and Harry understood, both men pushing the feather into the flames. It was hard work, and Harry began to wonder if they could ever let it go. Finally they pushed it to the already-consuming flames, then clung to one another as the pyre burned high.

"Goodbye love," murmured Remus into Harry's hair. The warmth was still within Harry - he felt like he was glowing from head to toe, and the ache within his heart was quieter, somehow easier to bear. He didn't hear Dumbledore get back up and announce that people may pay their respects. He didn't know anything except for the fact that he and Remus had shared Sirius, had shared everything for one golden instant in the fire.

Afterword

Tonks tucked a blanket over the two bodies on the couch, and picked up The Prophet. Harry and Remus slept the sleep of exhaustion, both still glowing from the inside, Moony running alongside Padfoot, and Harry having a one on one Quidditch match with Sirius, bounded only by the confines of their imagination, and their love. She pressed a kiss to both of their temples, aware that Remus would take on Harry, not as a student now, but as a son. She stood, letting her neck muscles crack, and looked over at the front page of the paper distastefully.

"Shock! Werewolf rumoured to be involved with Boy-Who-Lived!"

Across the other side of the country, Albus Dumbledore scowled at the front page of The Daily Prophet. There was a photograph of the funeral, although little about Sirius. There was a sizeable amount of information about the fact that Remus had "hardly kept his hands off Potter (15)". Dumbledore considered paying a visit to the editor, then shook his head, and decided that a confined combustion spell sent to every edition would do the trick nicely. Harry had never known a father, mused Dumbledore, as he set his wand to the page and chuckled with satisfaction as he felt every copy of the paper shrivel and burn.

He picked up The Quibbler, and read the headline. "Heroes' farewell".

"The practice of burning phoenix feathers has declined over the years with the dwindling numbers of phoenixes in the modern wizarding world. Sirius Black's farewell, truly fitting for a wizard of his stature and heroism, was a reminder of the power of this practice. It is known that the burning of phoenix feathers brings comfort to the bereaved, and it is the strongest wish of The Quibbler that it has done so for Remus Lupin and Harry Potter."