Lying Low

Blackcurrant Tea

It was Saturday morning, and a summer shower was just easing off as Remus heard knocking at the door of the flat. Mrs Robson, the nice middle-aged woman from the flat below, was there, smiling. Beside her stood a large black dog, its fur beaded with rain. It ran forward, wagging its tail. Remus didn't move.

"I found him hanging around out here in the hall - do you know him?" asked Mrs Robson.

"Yes," said Remus, reaching and patting the dog. "I got him last week, actually. I must have left the door open." He heard his voice clipped and distant and perhaps Mrs Robson did too, because she nodded, said cheerio and left. Remus shut the door behind her.

The dog shook itself, then shifted smoothly into Sirius-shape. "Remus," he said.

There was a confused sort of moment where Sirius went to hug him and Remus moved and they ended up clasping one another's forearms. Although Sirius had regained a little of his vitality during the year, there was nonetheless a strained look to his smile. "Nice place," he said.

"You don't have try to make me feel better," said Remus.

Sirius gave a sudden shiver. "Could I have a cup of tea?" he asked.

"Of course. There's blackcurrant, if that's all right with you."

Sirius nodded, and Remus went to the tiny kitchen area to put the kettle on. While the water was boiling, he turned to see Sirius roaming around restlessly, looking at the books in the cases (Remus's) and the pictures on the walls (not Remus's). Sirius paused at a particularly unpleasant green swirl and gave Remus a quizzical look.

"My landlord left them here," he explained quickly.

"And you didn't get rid of them?"

"I got used to them."

Sirius finally settled on the battered grey sofa, stretching out his legs. Had he always had that knack of appearing in any environment and immediately looking as though he belonged there? Remus couldn't remember.
With a click, the kettle switched itself off and Remus turned back to the counter to pour the tea. As he gave Sirius his mug, Sirius gave a yelp and tried to balance it on his knees, blowing frantically. Remus couldn't help but laugh.

"I see you've become thoroughly Muggle," murmured Sirius, now cupping the mug in his wool-gloved hands. Remus didn't entirely like the way he said it.

"It's easier," he said. "It doesn't feel so ... enclosed. They don't know, so it's easier to do Dumbledore's work in peace. You must know the feeling."

"I don't think Dumbledore trusts me enough for me to do much work," said Sirius, one corner of his mouth dragging up. His lips were chapped.

Remus would have preferred it if Sirius didn't speak about Dumbledore in that way, but he didn't quite feel up to admonishing him yet. He made a noncommittal noise and sipped the tea.

Sirius shivered again, more convulsively this time.

"Would you like a jumper?"

"Do you have a coat? I think a jumper'd be too small."

Remus nodded and fetched his overcoat from his room. Sirius wrapped it around himself.

"Someone walked over my grave. No, it's stupid, when I'm a dog I've got so much more hair, so when I turn back I'm freezing. I'll be all right in a bit." Sirius yawned widely. "Tell you what, while I was in hiding I developed a real thing for coffee. Could we go and have some?"

"I don't see why not."

"Thanks."

They left, Sirius still wearing Remus' coat and periodically shivering.

*

Mocha

It may just have been the chocolate powder Remus sprinkled onto his mocha, but as they sat in the coffee bar talking became easier.

"Who's the woman who brought me in?" asked Sirius as he leaned back precariously on his stool. "Do you like her?"

Remus shrugged. "She's nice," he said. "I don't really know her."

"It doesn't seem like you do much entertaining."

"I keep myself to myself."

They talked idly about jobs and the problems of Remus's illness (no one had noticed its regularity yet), and after a while they got onto Harry's achievements during the Triwizard Tournament. When Sirius talked about Harry, he glowed.

There was a pause and then came the 'do you remember' conversation, which wasn't as horrible as Remus had been expecting. To his surprise, it was possible to laugh over the time on James's birthday when Peter slept in and Sirius threw a pack of Exploding Snap cards at him. It was as though the past had happened to someone else and it was detached from him so he was able to react as he would if he read it in a book.

They didn't talk about Voldemort. For one thing, it was impossible to disguise Voldemort in Muggle terms. For another, there didn't seem to be much point discussing him. Dumbledore had told Remus and the other former members of the Order after Lily and Ja- after Voldemort's fall that he was liable to return. It had been a matter of 'when' rather than 'if', and although Remus felt the familiar fear at the back of the mind when he thought of Voldemort's return, it didn't feel entirely real.

They spent the rest of the day in the coffee shop, Remus making his mocha last luxuriously long, Sirius devouring carrot cake and iced tea. On the way back to the flat, they went to the off-licence. There was a kerfuffle when Sirius tried to pay for the two bottles of wine and Remus tried to refuse to let him. In the end, Sirius won. They walked a little way in silence before Sirius turned to him.

"What's up?" he asked.

"I don't," began Remus, stopped, then said stiffly, "I don't want your charity."

"Oh, Remus." Sirius's voice was quiet and resigned. "It isn't charity. When will you get that into your head?"

Remus gave him a look.

"For Christ's sake, Remus, you're letting me stay at your house. I'm eating your food. It isn't charity, it's - it's fair."

Remus withdrew and told Sirius that if he thought he would be getting steak every day he had another think coming. Sirius laughed and things were normal again.

Normal, of course, was a relative term.

*

Cabernet Merlot

Remus cooked spaghetti bolognaise for them, the non-wizarding way, while Sirius lounged on the sofa and called comments about how he was bored and couldn't he just throw an Incendio at the damn pasta?

"Finally," he grumbled as Remus brought the two plates, tucking in with relish. For Remus it was a luxury having someone to talk to while eating, and he had to slow himself down.

They made it almost to the end of the first bottle by the time the meal was over. Sirius looked warily at the locked door. "I s'pose you've got spells protecting the place, right?" he said with his mouth full.

"Of course," said Remus. "Who do you think I am?"

Sirius shrugged and swallowed the last mouthful of his dinner. "I don't know," he said.

Remus stared at him for a second. "Of course you know who I am," he said lightly.

Sirius swung his legs onto the sofa, prodding Remus's side with his feet. "Scratch."

Remus absently scratched the bottom of Sirius's foot, smiling at the look of ecstasy that spread across his face. Sirius looked sleepy.

"But I don't," he said.

"Don't what?"

"Know."

"I'm just the same old Remus."

"Mmm. Kind of. Not really."

Remus reached out to ruffle Sirius's hair, changed his mind and let his hand fall. "We're like," he said, "like new models."

"Of broomstick? Yeah, sounds good. Carry on scratching."

There was a comfortable silence. Then Sirius shifted, hanging his head backwards over the arm of the sofa. At that angle, he looked headless.

"'ve you heard from Dumbledore about what's happening?" he murmured.

Remus stopped scratching. "Not a lot," he said. "I think we're going to be posted somewhere in London."

"Together?"

"I think so."

"That'd be nice." Despite his awkward position, Sirius's voice was trailing off. "Today's been good."

"I'm glad."

"Yeah. Looks like this year'll ... be fun..." Sirius dragged his head up and gave Remus a look. "Did I say you could stop scratching?"

"Fine, fine," said Remus, smiling and switching to the other foot.

Sirius stretched, making a satisfied sort of noise. "Can't remember the last time I had somewhere this comfy," he said.

Remus nodded sympathetically.

"'s better because it's with you, too."

Mid-nod, Remus looked up. Sirius was fixing him with an earnest look, and after a second he dragged himself upright, leaning his head against Remus's chest. Remus patted his hair uncertainly; he hadn't minded Sirius coming and sitting on him or lying across him when he wouldn't get up in the mornings, but he had never felt comfortable when Sirius was in this kind of mood.

"Mmmnice," growled Sirius. Remus laughed quietly, despite himself.

There was a moment where they were both laughing; then, though Remus wasn't entirely sure how it happened, they were hugging. Before Remus could think about it properly, Sirius was grabbing his shoulders and kissing him, pressing his lips so hard that it felt as though they would bruise tomorrow.

Remus pulled back and said, "What the hell-"

Sirius looked utterly wretched. He pushed his hand against the side of Remus's face in a mockery of tenderness. "Sorry," he said mechanically, "sorry, sorry."

"No-"

"It's been so long and Voldemort's back and oh God Remus he saw them in the wand and they're gone and we're the only-"

Remus gathered Sirius into a hug, but Sirius carried on shivering until Remus carefully, worried that Sirius would break if he wasn't cautious enough, leaned down and kissed his cheek. Sirius made a murmuring noise and lifted his face to look at Remus again. "You don't want," he began, his voice hoarse.

"I do," said Remus fiercely, throwing caution to the winds. There was a moment where they stared at one another, then Sirius lunged, pinning Remus to the back of the sofa and kissing him again. It lasted longer this time, and Remus had more time to think about it, and how it was actually quite nice, make that very nice, and Sirius's lips were nicer to touch than he had expected, and, and, and-

He gently pushed Sirius away. "Come on," he murmured. "My bed's more comfortable than it looks."