In A Graveyard

Wandering properties of death
Arresting moons within our eyes and smiles
We did rest
Amongst the granite tombs to catch our breath

Worldly sounds of endless warring
Were for just a moment silent stars
Worldly boundaries of dying
Were for just a moment never ours
All was new
Just as the black horizons blue

Then along the bending path away
I smiled in knowing I'd be back one day

***

Dawn is fast approaching. I can feel it. I can smell it in the air. It's sweet, a mingled aroma of flowers and grass and heat and the promise of a new and long-awaited tranquility. Funnily enough, there is no stench of death or decay among these granite tombs, these unmoving stone properties of death.

My keen eyes scan the row of grave markers for any sign of movement. None. As I huff, the wintry air is clouded by a puff of white smoke from my snout. I continue prowling down the row, my ears pricked for even the slightest sound.

There is none.

And then suddenly, I pick up his unmistakable scent. It's feral, musky, and distinctly masculine, even in canine form. I remain still for a moment, long enough to be certain he isn't moving, and then pop up onto my hind legs, resting my front paws upon the tomb in front of me. Two pale eyes gaze up at me out of a pile of black fur. I could almost swear he's smiling.

A low growl issues from my throat, and Padfoot bares his fangs in response. Before I can react, he comes hurtling over the tomb and lands on top of me. I use my front limbs to push him off and gain control over him, but quickly he does the same to me, beginning what is to become a seemingly endless series of rolling and pinning, rolling and pinning. I won't harm him, though, and I know he won't harm me. This meaningless physical battle is nothing more than a way for he and I to vent our frustrations, calm our minds, and ease our pain. There is nothing here in this graveyard, our monthly battleground, to remind us of the war we are fighting, the loved ones we are losing. Those are the worries of men, and for the moment they are a million miles away from us and belong to someone else.

Happy and spent, I give up my struggle and allow Padfoot to pin me on my back. He's panting for breath, his long pink tongue dangling from his opened mouth. There's a hint of something akin to concern in his eyes, and immediately I realize why.

The sun is rising.

I wrench my eyes shut as the pain of transformation overcomes me. It's a sharp sting, a burning that runs through my entire body, beginning in my head and running to down to my feet, and then centralizing in the pit of my stomach. I can feel my limbs lengthening, my bones reforming. For a moment, it's nearly impossible to breathe, as if my lungs have tensed and closed, never to open for sweet air again. The world around me grows blurry and indistinct for a moment, and it seems that it all might fade to black at any second.

But it does not.

"Alright, Moony?"

Opening my eyes is a struggle, but it is no difficult thing to see Sirius. He's crouched beside me, now in human form, his darkly handsome face mere inches from mine. His breath comes hot against my cheek as he trails one hand down the length of my heaving chest. Quickly, I snatch the hand up with my own and bring it to my mouth.

"Just fine," I answer before pressing my lips to his fingertips. I can taste the salt of my own sweat on them.

"You want me to go get your clothes?" Sirius asks, running fingers gently through my hair.

I smile sleepily and close my eyes again. "In a minute. Just let me rest awhile."

I'm quite relieved to feel Sirius lay down beside me, to feel his strong arms enfold me, to feel his lips on my cheek. His sweater is warm and soft against my naked skin, softer than even Padfoot's black fur. I think I like him better this way, as a man, because touches and smiles and kisses can translate affection from intangibility into something concrete in a way that paws and brutish barking cannot.

"Love you, Remus," he whispers before kissing me soundly. I want to answer, but I cannot muster the strength to speak. It doesn't matter; he knows already. A thousand times in a thousand different ways, I have proven my love for Sirius. And while he's done the same for me, possibly a hundred times over, I can't help smiling with satisfaction at the sound of the words.

Blindly, my hands grope for his back pockets and then, despite his suggestive giggling, pull out the wand he has so carelessly tucked there.

"Accio clothes!" I chant, pointing the sycamore wand in the direction of the tomb where I stripped down before my transformation. At once, my gray slacks and plain black sweater come soaring toward me. I catch them with my free hand and can't hold back a laugh when Sirius jokingly asks why in never went out for Quidditch.

"I guess this means you're ready to go?" he asks as I rise from the ground and redress.

"Prongs'll be missing us, won't he?" I say, offering a hand to pull him up, which he accepts.

Now on his feet, he's smiling, and it's not the roguish grin he's famous for donning. It's tender, compassionate, filled with all the love and sincerity I know reside within his heart. Behind him, the sun has almost completely risen, turning the sky a brilliant shade of reddish-orange that leaves Sirius' dark mane glistening. One hand reaches up to caress my cheek. I sigh, and my eyelids flutter shut as Sirius pulls me into the softest, sweetest kiss imaginable. There is nothing now but blinding color and a battle of lips and tongues that is somehow both gentle and relentless.

Sirius is the first to break the kiss. He presses his forehead against mine and tangles one hand in my hair.

"C'mon," he whispers, nudging my head with his own. "We'd better get back."

He takes a step backward, smiling again, and twines his fingers around mine.

As Sirius leads me by the hand down the path out of the graveyard, I glance back at the tombs one final time. I'm ready to go, because I am no longer afraid of war and the things it might take from Sirius and me. We may lose many more loved ones. We may even lose each other.

But it doesn't matter.

Death is not the end, because love is eternal.

THE END