Remembering to Breathe

5.32

Sirius Black lay very still, one arm curled protectively around Remus. My werewolf, he thought. A contented smile spread across his face and a warm knot of pleasure tightened in his belly.

It had been a close thing. He lowered his head and rested it gently on Remus', closing his eyes briefly. Remus murmured softly in his sleep and shifted, reaching towards Sirius. He looked more peaceful than Sirius could remember in a long time.

Since - No. No point in dwelling on that.

They had talked, really talked, for the first time since Sirius had returned - cautiously at first, and then more urgently, as if a river had suddenly become undammed. Until, eventually, Sirius had sensed Remus' fatigue and had persuaded him to rest. Remus had made as if to lie down in his customary position, body half-curled and turned away from Sirius, but Sirius had prevented him, holding him and looking at him until Remus relaxed and curled up in Sirius' arms, breathing out in a long, surprised sigh and closing his eyes. He had fallen asleep almost immediately.

Sirius remembered other nights since his arrival, before and after the full moon, when the long delicate fingers would curve into claws and tear at the fragile skin. He had held Remus then, gathered him in and whispered to him, until he stilled and slept. If Remus remembered in the mornings, he did not mention it, and Sirius had felt unable to ask.

He knew that Remus would not have answered if he had.

Lie low at Lupin's, Dumbledore had said. Not for the first time, Sirius wondered just how deeply his old Headmaster saw. He had known himself that he needed to be with Remus - had known it for twelve long years. It had taken Sirius a while to realise that, although he had broken free of his own prison, Remus was still trapped; caught behind the barriers he had erected while Sirius was away. Sirius had tried to break through those barriers and had watched in increasing desperation as each new attempt ended in defeat. Sometimes, after yet another failure, he had felt Remus' eyes upon him and had looked up to see a gentle puzzlement and regret looking back at him, as if from a stranger's eyes.

A close thing.

He half-opened his eyes and gazed sleepily at the tangled brown hair, shot through prematurely with grey. Unexpected tears pricked at his eyes. You went grey without me, he thought. Oh, Moony. Your first grey hair, and I missed it. So many memories we'll never have.

We'll make new memories. It was a promise.

But there were old memories, too, and not all of them were unkind. They flitted now through his head like friendly ghosts. The time he had realised, shockingly, that what he felt for Remus was not friendship: as the blood drained out of his face and he felt as if someone was gripping his heart so tightly it hurt... Watching Remus idly from behind, until the other man turned round and his eyes met Sirius' questioningly for a moment, making the breath catch in Sirius' throat so that he had to remind himself to breathe... Remus glancing at him, his mouth curving upwards in a lazy half-smile which Sirius knew was meant for him alone, and which turned his bones to water.

He loved this man so much it felt like a physical pain. What did I do? he thought. What did I ever do to deserve this? How had he, Sirius Black, ended up with this clever, gentle man?

He had no idea. He only knew that somehow, miraculously, they had found each other; that, more miraculously still, the spark had not died, but had remained undimmed down all the long years of their separation.

Sirius took a deep breath. It wasn't over yet. There was a lot of talking to do, a lot each needed to hear from the other. It would take a long time before the wounds were healed. Maybe some never would.

We'll get there. He knew they could never go back, could never re-establish the easy, untroubled relationship they had had before Wormtail's casual betrayal had brought catastrophe crashing down around them.

We grew up, he thought. We're not the same people any more.

They couldn't go back. But maybe they could go forward.

Behind the heavy curtains, the night was changing into day. Grey light spilled through the gaps and crawled across the bed like fingers, pale and relentless with the promise of dawn.

We'll get there. Sirius looked down at Remus again.

He thought they would manage.

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We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time

T.S. Eliot: 'Little Gidding'