On the Other Side

Sirius was in the attic when the doorbell rang; he didn't actually hear the chiming, but the flood of curses from his mother's portrait was loud enough to reach him three floors above the front hall. He jumped up rather eagerly, having just reached the conclusion that his search for Kreacher was pointless, and relishing the prospect of having something else to do. Hell, he wouldn't even mind having to deal with Snape's endless bickering--trading insults with that slimeball was, in his mind, a far more merciful fate than boredom.

Clattering down the rickety steps, he made an irritable and half-hearted attempt to pull the curtain over the picture of Mrs Black, which only provoked her to shriek louder, before skidding to a stop in front of the door. Upon opening it, Sirius was pleasantly surprised--instead of Snape or Molly Weasley, Remus was standing there with a tired smile on his face. He smiled back, noting with some dismay that his friend's hair now appeared to be more grey than brown. "Come in, come in," he said, opening the door wide, "how are--oh, shut up, you old nutter!" he shouted over his shoulder in response to the fresh round of slurs that greeted Remus's appearance there. Turning back to his friend, he continued as if nothing had happened, "How are you? You want something to eat?"

Remus shook his head. "Ate before I came," he explained shortly, allowing Sirius to steer him inside. "I actually have some free time today, to stay here a while," he added. "Just a few more papers I picked up, then I have a good six hours until my next shift."

"And we are going to use those six hours to our advantage, mm?" Sirius grinned, backing Remus against the wall until their faces were within inches of each other. Remus just smiled back indulgently, leaning up to land a soft kiss on Sirius's lips; they wound their arms around one another, and the shrieking from the portrait reached a new level. "OH, NOT ENOUGH THAT YOU'RE MUDBLOOD-LOVING FILTH! NOW YOU HAVE TO BE A FUCKING FAIRY AS WELL! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! OUT! YOU'VE PROVEN YOURSELF TIME AND AGAIN TO BE A BLIGHT ON OUR FAM--"

"Oh shut up, you miserable old hag," Sirius muttered, pulling away reluctantly and wrenching the curtains over the painting. "Come on," he called over his shoulder, "let's get someplace a little more private."

An hour later they lay tangled up in one another on the massive four-poster that Sirius had slept in since childhood, breathing softly, each appearing to be asleep but knowing the other wasn't. He smiled slightly against Remus's chest, breathing in his scent, enjoying the slow rumble that started deep inside of it when he spoke.

"Sirius?"

"... yeah?"

"Do you love me?"

Sirius paused to consider, paused a second too long before replying, "Of course." He wriggled himself closer. "Of course I love you, Moony. Would we be here if I didn't?"

"Mmh." They lapsed into silence again; this time Sirius could feel Remus studying his hair, his forehead, the ridges of his eyes and nose in great detail. Could feel his eyes on him, comfortably creepy-crawly. "Sirius."

"What is it, Moony?"

"What would you do if I died?"

Sirius didn't take nearly as long to respond to this one. "You won't die."

"Why not? We're both members of the Order. We know what we're doing is dangerous. Either of us could easily die."

"I won't let you die," Sirius said roughly. "I won't."

Remus pulled out of his grasp and squirmed downward until they were looking each other in the eye. "Listen to me," he said softly. "You can't go out there, you understand? You can't protect me. There is nothing you can do to save me, or Har--"

"You leave Harry out of this," Sirius cut him off.

"Fine. But the point remains that you can't save me if I get into trouble, understand? Better that one of us dies than both, and that's exactly what will happen if you do something foolish like come running after me."

"Is it?" Sirius asked him, bitingly but with a note of genuine curiosity in his voice. "Is it better? Fine, you want me to tell you what would happen if you died? I'd kill myself, Remus. I would. Just for the hope that we'd see each other on the other side..."

"Stop thinking like that! Sirius, you're being selfish, the Order needs you--"

"Yeah? Then why do they keep me cooped up in this crackpot house all day, doing bullshit chores with no one but Kreacher for company? Doesn't seem like they need me very much..."

"Just because you can't go out of the house doesn't mean--and don't give me that look, you can't go out, you know it. You'd be dead within half an hour."

"You sound like a teacher," said Sirius bitterly.

"I was one, remember? A teacher, and a prefect before that--perfect little goody- two-shoes, wasn't I? And I was the one who always saved your sorry hides."

"Are you sure it isn't close to the full moon?" Sirius asked pointedly. "Because you seem to be biting my head off."

Remus glared at him, then abruptly he rolled off the bed and began searching for his clothes. "Wait, where are you going?" Sirius asked, sitting up.

"I have paperwork to do, remember?" he said irritably, pulling his shirt on and stalking out of the room before Sirius could say anything more.

He dragged himself off the bed and stood in the doorway, still fully naked, to shout after his friend's retreating back, "I'm going back to the attic! At least Kreacher--" Kreacher what? What on earth was more appealing about looking for Kreacher again than talking to Remus—even after a fight? Sirius sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his unkempt hair, before retreating back into the room to get dressed. Who knows, maybe he would find the elf today...

It seemed he had only been in the attic five minutes when Remus was sprinting up the stairs, yelling, "Padfoot! Harry's in the fire, he wants a word with you!"

"Harry?" Sirius swore and hurried downstairs. He might not be able to protect Remus, but if Harry was in trouble he was sure as hell not going to stand idly by. Down in the kitchen at last, he looked around and saw Harry's head sitting in the flames, looking rather anxious and uncomfortable. "What is it?" he asked, glad to see that Harry appeared to be in one piece. "Are you all right? Do you need help?"

Harry squirmed a bit. "No... it's nothing like that... I just wanted to talk... about my dad..."

---

Hours later, when it was time for Remus to leave, Sirius saw him to the front door, careful not to awaken his mother's portrait. "We probably won't be able to get any time together for a few months," his friend was saying, "not without the rest of the Order breathing down our necks anyway. Stay out of trouble, won't you?"

"Yeah," Sirius said absently, "yeah, I'll try..." He wanted desperately, at that moment, to grab Remus and kiss him goodbye, to tell him that he loved him, even when they fought, but just then Remus walked out and all Sirius could give him was a little wave before the door slammed shut. Maybe if he had known that the next time they would see each other would be in the Department of Mysteries, he would've risked going out and exposing himself to bid Remus goodbye. But he didn't, so he just turned around, passing his mother's portrait with a sigh of disgust, and wandered morosely back into the kitchen.