Holmes

The first night you spend away from home is one of the scariest moments of your life. Remus Lupin knew this to be a cruel fact as he huddled in his four-poster with the blankets tented around him, cuddling his favourite teddy bear. The thing was old, ratty and missing an eye, but the eleven-year-old loved him nonetheless. Remus clutched the bear close to his chest and sniffled; it smelled like Home: fresh baked biscuits, musty cigar smoke, and the leathery aroma of well-worn tack.

He sighed and snuggled closer still to the bear; he missed his mum and dad already. Remus let his thoughts wander and counted off the time as a clock chimed down in the Gryffindor common room. The silence of the first year dorm was broken only by James Potter and Peter Pettigrew's soft intermittent snores, and Remus started when a new sound joined the symphony of the night.

He tensed as footsteps approached his bed and waited anxiously as the blankets were carefully lifted. Remus glared at the invader and hugged his bear.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" Sirius Black said. "Mind if I join you?"

Remus didn't say anything, but scooted over to make room for his new house mate. Sirius climbed under the sheets and muttered a quick "Lumos." Remus squinted in the sudden light, and after his eyes had adjusted, he dared a quick glance at Sirius. The boy's hair was as black as his name and his deep, enchanting eyes were the colour of molten lead. Remus' eyes dropped to Sirius' wrists, where old yellow-brown bruises were slowly starting to heal.

Sirius noticed his consternating gaze and pulled his almost outgrown sleeves down to cover them.

"So who's this fellow?" Sirius asked, pointing to Remus' bear.

"Holmes," Remus said, grinning shyly.

"Holmes? As in 'Sherlock?'" Sirius asked jovially.

Remus shook his head, mussing his hair in the process. "Oliver Wendell."

Sirius stared at him. "Who?"

"American chap," Remus said. "Influential Supreme Court Justice from.... You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Un-huh," Sirius said. "How do you know that?"

Remus smiled coyly and blushed. "I read about it in one of my dad's history books."

"Okay," Sirius said, drawing the word out.

An awkward silence fell over them for a moment, and Remus wondered if he'd said something wrong. Sirius shifted closer and his suddenly intoxicating scent was all Remus could think about--figs, cinnamon, and toothpaste. Sirius' voice brought him back to his senses.

"Can I see him?"

Remus stared guiltily at Sirius for a second and hesitated before handing Holmes over. The black haired boy gingerly took the bear and looked him over. The bear's honey-coloured fur was soft and falling out in places, the spot where his eye had been was carefully stitched up, and an ear had also been tenderly sewn back on.

"What happened to him?" Sirius asked. "Did your dog chew it up or something?"

Remus paled. "No, my cousin thought it would be funny if he reenacted the Inquisition. When my aunt found out, she grounded him for a month."

"That sounds nice. How old were you?" Sirius's voice was cold.

Remus blushed. "Six."

Sirius stared at the abused bear and ran his thumb over the sewn up eye. "Your mum fix him?"

"Yeah," Remus said, pulling his knees to his chest, "she did."

Sirius handed the bear back and Remus held it tightly, his chin resting on top of the bear's plush head. "What's she like?"

"My mum?"

Sirius nodded and wrapped his arms around himself.

Remus smiled. "She's brilliant. She bakes wedding cakes and decorates them all by herself, but sometimes she lets me help, and she makes the best Christmas pudding ever. She also speaks Welsh and sings like an angel."

Sirius smiled wanly. "What's she look like?"

"Well, she's tall, has eyes like me, and she says her hips are too big but Dad tells her not to be so hard on herself."

"She a witch?"

"Muggleborn."

Sirius nodded again and scooted closer to Remus. "Your mum sounds nice."

Remus smiled brightly. "She is." He paused. "What's yours like?"

Sirius didn't answer for a long time, but when he did his voice was bitter. "She's not like yours."

"Oh." Remus didn't know what to say.

They sat in a companionable silence under the makeshift tent, their thighs gently touching. After a while, Sirius yawned.

"Mind if I sleep here tonight?" His voice sounded small and diminished.

"Sure," Remus said, shocked, and allowed Sirius to pull him down and wrap a protective arm around him. Holmes, his one eye glinting in the waxing moonlight, was tucked between them, and suddenly Remus wasn't so afraid of being away from home anymore.

14 March 2007