Moony's Garden

Moony's Garden

The morning of that fateful day in June, Remus Lupin was in the hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place, dragging his cloak on before he left to meet Arthur Weasley for an update on Ministry activity, when Sirius appeared behind him, a huge beaming smile on his face.

"Moony! Caught you!"

Remus gave Sirius a wary look. Whether it was the confinement in Grimmauld Place or just a general dislike of early mornings, Sirius was seldom bright and breezy before eleven at the earliest.

"Why so merry so early, Pads?" he asked. The grin widened.

"Got a surprise for you," Sirius said.

"Sirius, if you're planning to spring one of your pranks this morning, I will feel quite justified in hexing you 'till - "

"Ah, Moony, don't you trust me? Nah, it's not a joke." He reached over and tucked a folded bit of parchment into Remus's pocket.

"What's that?"

"Part one. Ah-ah, not now! Read it later, after you're done with your Order business."

"Sirius..." Remus felt a smile starting, despite himself.

"Okay, I'm going loony. Humour me. Have a good day."

"You too, Sirius."

Sirius's face softened, and he caught Remus in a bear hug, dropping a kiss on his cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too, Pads."

Remus stepped out onto the street, shaking his head. Same old Sirius, unpredictable as always.

Remus was still tied up with Order business at half-past nine, when an exhausted owl collapsed at his feet, bearing an urgent message from Dumbledore. A second from Moody arrived within two minutes. The Ministry of Magic was crawling with Death Eaters. Harry was there and in deadly danger. Rally with all available Order members immediately in the Department of Mysteries.

Two hours later, Sirius was dead.

Remus wandered into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, utterly bone-weary but feeling nothing beyond a grey numbness. His mind kept replaying the moment he'd heard Sirius shout, seen him fall, seen him vanish beyond the veil, and it wouldn't stop. Kreacher was nowhere to be seen, and Remus was grateful for that small mercy: he didn't entirely trust himself not to throttle the little bastard. Merlin alone knew he richly deserved it.

He sank into a seat at the table - and heard something crackling in his pocket. He frowned, and pulled it out. Sirius's note: 'To Moony of the marvellous eyes'. He unfolded it.

Hey Moony,

Take a look at our old spot outside.

Big wet licks!

Pads.

Remus knew the spot, of course. In the old days, when Sirius was still living with his parents ('enduring their company' was how he'd phrased it) James, Peter and Remus had met up in London during the long summer holidays. The Black family house was Unplottable, of course, but Sirius had told them how to find it, and a little careful research had found that a rough piece of wall in the Grimmauld Place garden, conveniently near an old wrought iron bench, backed onto a quiet alleyway. At an arranged time, Sirius would slope off from the bosom of his family, use the bench to help him shin up the ivy-clad wall and join his three friends on the other side, ready for an evening of Marauding. London, Muggle and magical parts alike, offered plenty of possibilities for a quartet of teenage boys, particularly a quartet backed with Black money. And Potter money, too. On one memorable occasion Peter had ended up in the river, James ended up completely plastered and Sirius ended up tattooed.

It was on that spot, as Remus helped Sirius down from the wall after a truly excellent excursion, that Sirius asked Remus the Question.

"What?" Remus had said, wondering if he was hearing things.

"You heard." Sirius turned to Remus, his face for once absolutely serious. "I can't stick it here much longer, and now James's parents have offered to let me stay with them, so I'm getting out. S'not like I'll miss this old heap much. But when I've got a few Galleons together, a place of my own...I just want you to think about it, okay?"

"Come and live with you? Really?"

"Yeah, really! I know your parents aren't arses like mine, but when you've left Hogwarts, if you ever wanted somewhere away from home... you're always welcome anywhere I am, you know that."

Remus looked away, eyes suddenly brimming. "What about the - the werewolf thing?" he whispered.

"We'd manage. We manage now, don't we?" He caught Remus's eye and smiled. "All right, I admit it: it's just a ruse to have your gorgeous body near me night and day."

Remus laughed. "Is it, you crafty sod? Oh, to hell with it - yes!"

Sirius grinned, his eyes sparkling with pure joy.

Remus walked in a daze through the garden of Grimmauld Place. It was around the corner here, past the overhanging yews and past the statue of Phineas Nigellus - the vain git - and

there...

Remus gasped.

The old bench stood beside the crumbling wall exactly as it had all those years ago. A little rustier, perhaps. And all around it, climbing amongst the ivy, peeping around the bench's legs, filling the flowerbeds, were roses. Fat velvety red roses, untidy trailing dog roses, white roses bobbing like little ghosts in the twilight.

" There we are, I got 'em. Roses to say 'I love you'," James said, examining the armful of flowers he'd bought for Lily and grinning over them at his friends.

"Do they?" Sirius said, half-interested, half bemused.

"Yep."

"Learn something every day."

"Not in the same class as you, Pads."

"Reckon she'll like them?" James asked anxiously.

"Sure she will. You paid enough for them."

Later that day, Remus discovered that one red rose - perhaps one of Lily's dozen, he'd never found out - had found its way to a toothmug at his bedside. It didn't take a genius to work out how it got there.

But that wasn't all.

Standing among the rose bushes, tall elegant spikes waving gently in the breeze, were some other flowers that Remus recognised at once.

Lupins. Row on row of them in every colour imaginable.

For several minutes Remus just stared at the enormous living bouquet in front of him. Sirius did all this, for me? He suddenly saw Sirius, in the endless days of his confinement, bent over and grubby, sweat stinging his eyes, planting the dozens of bushes and bulbs, his thoughts fixed only on Remus's expression when he saw what Sirius had made for him.

There was a tiny roll of parchment tied to the back of the bench. Remus retrieved it, hands shaking so hard they could barely untie the string and unroll it.

Hi Remus,

Like it?

See you soon, all my love,

Sirius xxx

Tears were rolling down Remus's face, and he didn't even bother to wipe them away. He sank to his knees, chest torn apart by huge wrenching sobs, his forehead resting on the cool iron of the bench, the fragrance of Sirius's garden washing over him and no comfort, no comfort at all.

That was how Hestia Jones found him, when she arrived at the Order Headquarters to see what she could do in the aftermath of the battle at the Department of Mysteries. She saw the hunched figure in the garden and hurried to see who was there.

"Who are - Remus!"

Remus. Convulsed with sobs, shiny tracks of tears on a face contorted with pain and grief, a piece of parchment crushed in his hand.

"Oh Remus, I just heard... Remus, I'm so sorry..."

She tried to help him to his feet - no easy task, as he was crying so hard he could hardly stand on his own - supporting him with an arm around the waist. He weighed almost nothing: Sirius had always worried about how thin he was, the poor soul. She stared past Remus, bewildered, trying to see what had so distressed him.

Just a flowerbed and an old iron bench, nothing more.