Some Things Never Change

"Typical," Sirius muttered disgustedly, turning away from the head in the fire. "Some things never change, and I tell you, Snape is one of them."

"It was bound to happen," Remus' head replied. "At least one of the students had already figured it out, and I'm sure more were going to do so."

"Still! You would think with Dumbledore being good enough to get you a job, he'd have made sure that slimy creep didn't let the secret out." Sirius turned back around. "So what are you planning to do now?"

Remus sighed. "I don't know. For that matter, what are you planning to do now?"

"I thought I'd take a vacation. Go south, somewhere with no wizarding population, take some time off." Sirius flopped down in a theadbare armchair.

Remus grimaced. "Have you bathed yet?"

"I haven't quite had the time, no." Sirius grabbed a pillow from the floor and tucked it behind his head with a mischevious grin. "Nice place you've got here."

Remus' head disappeared from the fire, and a moment later he whooshed, whole, through the fireplace. "When I said you could stay here, that included the bathtub," he scolded lightly, pulling the pillow away.

"It doesn't have any hot water," Sirius complained. "You expect me to take my first bath in twelve years without hot water?"

"Just pretend it's that flat you used to have," Remus retorted. "Now you go get cleaned up, and I'm going to go back to Hogwarts and get the rest of my things." He turned and popped back through the fire.

A small smile spread across Sirius' face as he watched Remus leave. So far, everything between the two of them was exactly as it had been twelve years ago. They never missed a beat of each other's thoughts, movements...feelings? Sirius shook himself. It had been twelve years, twelve years that Remus had spent thinking that he was a mass murderer, a Death Eater, and the one who had betrayed one of their best friends. Surely he had moved on by now. But as he looked around the tiny flat, he could see signs of only Remus' ordered clutter--stacks of books (undoubtedly still organised into "read", "not yet read" and "reread"), folded robes stacked on a shelf rather than hanging in a closet, and of course bedding piled on the sofa rather than the bed. No, Remus was alone, he could be sure of that. But would he still be open to Sirius?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus arrived an hour later, carrying his things in from the carriage. He found not only a clean Sirius but a cooked dinner waiting for him. He smiled as he walked in and set his suitcase down. "Thank you."

"It's the least I can do," Sirius replied, leaning over the tea he was pouring. The phrase rang a bell somewhere in Remus' head, but he couldn't quite place it. Shrugging it off, he sat down to eat.

"So I'm heading south," Sirius stated. Remus looked up at him, not quite sure of what to say to this. Sirius went on. "I was thinking about Jamaica. You get down in the south part, and there's hardly any wizards at all. Plus there's wild dogs all over the place. I could blend in just fine." Sirius met Remus' gaze. "So what do you think?"

"I think it sounds fine," Remus replied steadily, trying to discern what he had really just been asked. Twelve years ago, it would have been unmistakable, but now, after so long? And after twelve years in Azkaban? He tried to scramble for words that would ask the question back. "I think it'll be very good for you," he finished lamely, and looked back down at his food. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't everything just pick up where it left off so easily?

Sirius gave him a hard look for a moment, then resumed eating himself. A minute or two passed in uneasy silence before he spoke up again. "So, then, what are your plans for the summer?"

Remus winced inwardly. "Well, I suppose it's back to finding an employer who doesn't mind a werewolf. But that'll be a bit harder now. Apparently the news travelled fast, as some new legislation passed today. For one, I'll never have a job teaching again. Or for that matter, any job at all that I'm qualified for."

Sirius regarded him for a moment before replying calmly. "Then come with me."

A flurry of thoughts ran through Remus' mind in an instant. He didn't mean--he couldn't mean--he had to get control of himself. He felt himself nodding and saying, "All right."

Sirius grinned at him, but it was subdued. He wasn't sure what to think. What sort of an invitation was this? He'd spent twelve years training his mind to avoid fantasies like this, and here they all were, come to life. Except he wasn't sure that this would turn out quite the way his daydreams did. He sat quietly for the rest of dinner, listening to Sirius expound on the tropical climate, obtaining Muggle money, and other such mundane matters. Was he avoiding the subject purposely? It was hard to tell with Sirius--or rather, it was hard for other people to tell. They had always been able to read each other instantly. Even James had missed the subtle glances between them, the messages-within-messages that Sirius was so skilled at giving him when talking in a group. He knew that he couldn't expect Sirius to come out of Azkaban unchanged, and it was true--there was an edge to him that had never been there before. But the events of the night prior had proved to them both that, when the need was there, they were still perfectly attuned. This was a different situation, though. This wasn't a case of life or death.

They finished dinner and quickly cleaned up. "So how is Harry?" Sirius asked, finally dropping the subject of their vacation. "From what I could tell, he's doing very well."

"Amazingly well," Remus replied. "Better than I think any of us, including James, could have ever hoped."

Sirius nodded. "That's good to hear. His--actions last night were amazing. He saved my life."

"And I'll be forever indebted to him for that," Remus said lightly, not looking to see the effects of his words. "Though I expect the Granger girl helped quite a bit. She's a sharp one, she is."

"Good to hear that the next generation's turning out well." Sirius lay down on the sofa and stretched out. "Though I expect Malfoy's boy is in their year?"

"Let's just say Harry's not the only one turning out like his father." They both had a chuckle at that. "But for the most part, they're a good lot. I think the only part I didn't like about this past year was having to deal so closely with Severus."

Sirius sat up at that remark, and for a moment Remus thought he saw a strange look in his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"He's been making me a potion to help deal with the change," Remus replied. "I think Harry thought he was trying to poison me with it."

"Well, that's good of him," Sirius said offhandedly, lying back down. "And Harry didn't have any reason not to think that. I take it he's heard the story?"

"Well, yes, but this was before that. I think Harry's just suspicious of Severus in general, and I don't blame him, the way he treats the boy. It looks like he just takes out all his anger at James on Harry. Not to mention, I think he's got an idea of what Snape was, years ago." Remus heard a snore, and looked over to see Sirius fast asleep. He suppressed a laugh. Sirius had always fallen asleep in the middle of one of his stories. He gently laid a blanket over the sleeping man, and then took one for himself into his bedroom. He paused to look back at Sirius. He looked worn, tired, and thin, but he was still the same Sirius. He paused for a moment, then lightly dropped a kiss on the sleeping man's forehead. Sirius didn't move, but Remus still turned quickly into his room, almost a little embarassed.

As he started to fall asleep, he remembered suddenly why the phrase Sirius had uttered earlier had seemed so familiar. "It's the least I can do." He'd said it himself nearly every night to Sirius when they had lived in the old flat, when Sirius would come in to dinner cooked and on the table. He smiled to himself. Had Sirius done it purposely, or was it just a coincidence? He didn't know. Right now, he was tired, and he didn't care.