Survivor's Guilt: Moony's Tale

Cold, stiff and sore, Remus -- man-shaped and weak once more -- swam reluctantly towards consciousness. This was always the worst time, when it was all he could do to find his bed and sleep until the afternoon. His head ached and he knew that as soon as he tried to move there would be pain.

Last night had been worse than any full moon had been in a long time. Does the potion make it easier or does dependence on it make not having it harder? he thought fuzzily. He wondered how long he could get away with not opening his eyes.

He could tell from the feel of the air and the ground beneath him that he was outdoors. Even though it was early June there was a chill in the air and the birds were singing loudly enough to hurt his tender head so it could not be long past dawn.

The sound of a twig snapping nearby. His eyes popped open, unfocussed. The sight that greeted him made him think for one absurd moment that he was seventeen again. Why else would be be lying cold and naked in the Forbidden Forest with a large, black dog approaching him?

"Padfoot," he croaked, his tongue feeling sticky in his dry mouth.

The dog stopped and stood perfectly still, watching him.

Gingerly, he pushed himself upright. He had been right; it did hurt but he managed to maneuver himself into a wobbling crouch. He extended his hand in a loose fist, palm down, as he had been taught to do when meeting a strange dog for the first time.

The black dog slowly resumed its approach until it was close enough to sniff Remus's outstretched fingers. After a moment it gave the man's knuckles a tentative lick.

A dry sob that Remus had not known he was suppressing welled up in his throat as he fell forward, arms tight around the dog's shaggy neck. Burying his face in the thick, black fur, he breathed in the doggy scent, feeling his tears dampen it into spikes and clumps as he sobbed painfully against the the beast that had stalked his dreams for so many years, only to disappear upon waking.

"I'm sorry, Padfoot -- Sirius --" he gulped when he had breath enough. "-- so sorry ...."

He drew back, tears blurring his vision as he stroked the familiar long-muzzled face. He was so close he could see white hairs sprinkled among the black, marking the passage of time. A warm tongue flicked out to taste the salt tears on his cheek.

Remus made a choked sound that was somewhere between a laugh and another sob. He fell backwards from his crouch, his back and head resting against the tree he had awoken under. Padfoot playfully licked his face. "Aren't you going to say something?" he laughed.

The dog backed up and transformed into a stark naked Sirius, grinning sheepishly. Remus blinked. It was the nature of the Animagus spell that, when a person transformed, he kept the clothes he had been wearing. If he had been wearing any.

"I went for a dip in the lake while I was waiting for you," Sirius explained, grinning wider. "Buried my clothes. Once I had them off, they really didn't seem worth putting back on again."

"And here I thought it was the wolf going back to sleep that made you smell better," Remus said with an answering smile.

"Well, I didn't get much of a wash," Sirius shrugged. "I mostly had to do it as Padfoot, since it was starting to get light out and I feel the cold water less that way, so I guess I just rinsed away the worst of it. I was hoping --" He stopped and blushed.

"What?" asked Remus. I'll give you anything, if only you'll ask it, he wanted to say, but it was too soon and he was too shy.

"I went back to the Shack while you were sleeping. I thought maybe you might still keep a spare set of robes there. I brought them for you." Sirius inclined his head in the direction from which he had come, and Remus could see a rumpled pile of clothes. "I found your wand in the grass while I was there. Brought that too," he mumbled.

Remus narrowed his eyes. The wand would have been much closer to the castle than the Whomping Willow. Sirius had taken a risk by venturing out in the open like that. But all Remus said was, "thank you."

Sirius blushed again. "So I was hoping that, maybe, if you knew a charm ... It's just been so long since I've been clean that I've forgotten what it feels like."

Remus laughed outright at this. "Alright," he said. "But you'll have to bring the wand to me, Sirius. I haven't the strength to make it all the way over there just yet."

Sirius jumped up and eagerly scampered away on all fours -- as if he had not quite let go of Padfoot yet -- over to where he had left the wand and robes. He was a comical sight; naked, bony, with his pale arse stuck up in the air, but Remus only smiled.

Sirius returned with the clothing over his arm and the wand in his hand at a sedate walk, obviously realising how foolish he must have looked. He handed the wand to Remus.

When Remus had performed the cleaning charm, Sirius asked shyly, "do you need help getting dressed?"

"No," Remus replied. "Well, yes. But I'm not ready to get dressed just yet."

Sirius flopped down beside him, leaning up against the broad trunk of the tree. "Merlin, it feels good to be clean!" he declared, stretching luxuriantly.

Remus enjoyed this performance out of the corner of his eye, but Sirius caught him looking. Remus tried to smile but he felt suddenly awkward and he could see that Sirius did as well.

"I'm sorry," said Sirius softly, looking down at himself. "I guess I'm not much to look at anymore."

You're always beautiful to me, Remus wanted to say, but he felt too shy. Instead, he reached out to lay his hand over Sirius's, squeezing gently. Sirius looked up to meet his eyes again and Remus held his gaze trying to say with his eyes what he could not with words just yet, and Sirius seemed to understand. The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips and he squeezed back.

"Tell me --" Remus cleared his throat. "Tell me what happened last night. After I --"

Sirius told him about Peter's disappearance and the Dementors and Harry's Patronus, which he had not seen for himself.

"It's a stag," Remus interrupted. "Harry's Patronus."

Sirius was still. "Prongs?" he said at last, the single word catching in his throat.

Remus nodded, squeezing his hand again. "Go on," he encouraged.

Sirius continued his tale of the events of the previous night. The long, confession-filled talk with Dumbledore, the argument between the Headmaster, Snape and the Minister for Magic over what should be done about him, and finally the daring double rescue perpetrated by Harry and Hermione.

Remus smiled. "They managed to save you and the Hippogriff as well? If those two didn't get along so well, I would swear they were Lily and James reincarnated."

Sirius nodded. "Clever, brave and reckless. Gryffindor through and through." He sounded proud.

"So where's the Hippogriff now?" asked Remus curiously.

"Oh, I chained him up back near Hagrid's hut. Seems he doesn't like the smell of werewolf very much," he added apologetically.

"He may just have to get over that," Remus replied. "So, er ... what happens now? I assume you're not going to make me a cup of tea?" They both grinned.

"You and your Muggle tea," said Sirius, shaking his head.

"Remember how I used to get up in the morning while you were still asleep and make the tea?" Remus asked dreamily. "And then I would bring it back to you with the Daily Prophet crossword puzzle and we would drink it in bed." He smiled at Sirius. "I wish I could do that now. Earl Grey was your favourite, I remember. I got you addicted to Muggle tea as well. With just a touch of honey."

"You must be getting old, Moony," Sirius teased. "You forget that, on the morning after the full moon, it's my job to make the tea. God, I could kill for a spot of Earl Grey just now!"

The mutual remembering felt good to Remus. They could not just pick up where they had left off, but they were not starting with nothing either.

"So what does happen now?" Remus asked again gently.

Sirius looked uncomfortable. "I suppose I'm on the run. Without Peter, I haven't got anything but the word of a werewolf and three teenagers that he's still alive even if Dumbledore does believe me." He shook his head. "I guess I'll have to go into hiding."

Unconsciously, Remus clutched at Sirius's hand, holding it tightly. No, he thought. It's too soon. I can't lose you again!

Sirius seemed to read his thought and looked up into his panicked brown eyes. "It's alright, Moony. It's not forever." He patted Remus's hand with his free one. "Peter's out there, and now that I'm not the only one who knows it, he can be found again. For now, I can be content with knowing that my name is cleared as far as you and Harry are concerned."

Harry. It was easier to talk about Harry than about each other. "He's a clever boy," Remus said. "Lily and James would have been proud."

"Tell me about him?" Sirius asked. "What's he like? And his friends. Are they -- close?"

Remus knew what Sirius was asking. Both men had known hard lives and loneliness, and the thing that had saved them both from themselves had been the miraculous bond of the Marauder friendship. That Sirius would want such a thing for Harry was understandable.

"Yes," Remus replied confidently. "Those three go everywhere together. I fear the Muggles Harry grew up with -- Lily's family, you know -- were the really awful sort. But now he's here, and he's safe, and he can build his own family. As we did." By now all four of their hands were laced together.

"And the girl?" Sirius asked. "You said she's like Lily. You think she and Harry will --"

"No," Remus grinned wolfishly. "Hermione's all for Ron. The pheromones the two of them give off around one another! It's a wonder they can't smell them!"

Sirius laughed. "You and your werewolf senses. You should set up a dating service. Or at least a 'knocking people on the head and pointing out the obvious to them' service. It's a wonder you never guessed about me, back when ...."

Remus was still grinning. "It's a wonder I never did. Well, what did I know back then? Who isn't hopeless about such things at that age?"

"Who indeed?" Sirius smiled up into the branches of the tree overhead. "Well, they're young yet. Plenty of time for them to figure it out."

Remus frowned then, looking at their intertwined hands. "I wonder if Harry will hate me now that he knows what I am?"

"You forget, werewolf," Sirius scootched a little closer so that their shoulders were pressed together. "Harry was raised in the Muggle world. He doesn't have werewolf prejudice. No, he's more likely to hate us for what we are."

"Do you think he will?" Remus asked nervously.

"You know, I don't think so." Sirius said thoughtfully. "It might take him a while to get his head around the idea of his professor and his godfather being, well --" He shrugged. "But you said yourself, he's a clever boy. And that Hermione's sharp as a tack; you think she'll let her boys get away with having stupid prejudices if she can talk them out of it?"

Remus sighed. "I hope you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Sirius teased. "I'm always right, aren't I? And if the two of us can convince Harry in an hour's space that I'm not actually a mass-murdering psychopath to the point that he'll agree to come live with me, well, I don't think we have anything to worry about. Werewolf, poof, whatever. He'll love you. What's not to love?"

"Sirius, I --" Remus faltered.

"What's wrong, Moony?"

It was no good holding back, so he let it all out in a rush. "Sirius, what if it's been too long? What if we've left it too late? I mean, so much has happened. We're both different people than we were back then. I wouldn't want to assume --"

"Moony," Sirius said, quieting him. He turned so that he was kneeling beside Remus, looking him squarely in the eye. "Do you remember the words we said that day?"

Remus knew the day he meant. It had been the same day as Harry's christening. He nodded.

"'As long as the moon waxes and wanes,'" Sirius began. "'As long as the stars shine from the heavens' ...."

"'As long as I bear this mark on my body,'" Remus whispered and reached out a tentative hand to trace the scripted "R", stark black against the pale skin of Sirius's breast, "'I am yours.'"

"I had a little window in my cell," Sirius said softly, "and I used to sit at night in the moonglow and remember those words. We are still bound, you and I. I know you're scared. I am too. But we still have to try, don't we?"

Remus's throat felt dry and he had to blink away moisture from his eyes, but he nodded wordlessly.

"And there's no rush," Sirius said, sitting down beside him again. "After all, we have the rest of our lives."

"No rush," whispered Remus, moving to lean against the other man's bare shoulder.

Sirius put an arm around him and pulled him against his thin chest. Remus closed his eyes and listened to the slow beat of his heart, at once both familiar and strange.

"You're right, Moony; I'm a changed man. For one thing, I've finally learned patience."

Remus could feel the laugh in his chest that did not quite escape his throat. The old Sirius had never known patience. He wanted what he wanted now, and if he could not have it, he was moody and petulant until he got it.

"For twelve years, I had nothing to do but think," he continued. "And most of the time, I thought about you. James and Lily were dead and that was terrible. Peter was a traitor and I wanted to kill him for it. But that was not the worst of it. The worst of it was knowing that you were out here thinking I had done this terrible thing -- that you hated me -- when I never for a moment stopped loving you."

Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius's waist. "I never hated you, Padfoot. I always thought I should, and I felt guilty when I didn't. I could never make it make any sense, though. My heart was broken and my soul was torn out of me and I never understood why. The pieces didn't add up. It was never hatred or anger I felt; it was confusion -- confusion that you could have done such a thing -- confusion that I -- I could never stop loving you."

Sirius was silent at that but no verbal acknowledgment was required. Instead, Remus felt a hand against the back of his head, stroking his hair.

"Maybe it's wrong that I can hate Peter and want him dead for what he did," Remus murmured, "but I was never able to hate you."

"I guess that's one less thing to hold Peter accountable for," Sirius said at last. "We seem to have found something he didn't manage to destroy. Though not for lack of trying. He stole a piece of our lives, but he can't take our future."

Remus nodded, eyes closed. "It was bloody irresponsible of me to go off like that last night," he said. "Without taking Snape's blasted potion. But damn it, Sirius," he raised his head to look into gray eyes. "I had to see you -- had to know the truth of it from your own lips."

"I wanted to leave you a letter," Sirius confessed. "I wanted to find some way to tell you, without the risk that you might turn me in. I'm sorry," he added, "but I wasn't sure you wouldn't."

"That's all right, Padfoot," Remus reassured him, once again laying his head against Sirius's chest. "I didn't know what I would do either. Why didn't you write the letter, though?"

"I could never find the time to get all of it down," Sirius replied. "I tried, but I'd spent so much time as a dog that as a man my hands were weak and not accustomed to writing. They cramped up. And it was so hard to find the words in any case. I guess my brain was getting doggy, too," he confessed sheepishly. "I didn't seem to be any good at thinking in complete sentences or forming detailed explanations."

"But surely you could have found a way --"

"I tried," Sirius said. "At Christmas, when I gave Harry the broom, I left you that lock of hair. I wanted to prove I trusted you and that you could trust me. We'd lost so much trust, even in the months before -- I just wanted to show you that the trust could be there again."

"I kept trying to come up with explanations," Remus confessed. "I couldn't make any of it make sense. I was worried that you were trying to appeal to me because I was the only one gullible enough to believe in you, but that didn't seem to fit either."

"I had hoped --" Sirius began tentatively. "I thought maybe, with the hair, you could do some sort of spell. You know; to show whether the person it came from was trustworthy."

"I'm sorry," Remus whispered again. "I should have thought of that. And I should never have doubted you. And I bloody well should have gone to see you after --" he found he could not say "Azkaban". "-- after you went away. I should have at least heard your side of things. But I was such a coward. Dumbledore wanted me to go to you. He thought you might confess something to me."

Sirius was silent for a moment. "The only times I ever considered confessing," he began slowly, "were when they asked me about you. Because if I could say I had done it and it was all my fault, then I could say it wasn't yours -- that you had had no part in it."

"Ever-faithful Padfoot. How could I have doubted you?"

"It's not your fault, Moony." Sirius's hand traced down his spine, making him shiver pleasantly. "Peter's not stupid. He planned it well, and he broke us both. I used to hope, after a while, that you'd been able to get on with your life. I tried to get word, whenever someone visited -- that place. But either they wouldn't talk to me, or they just gave me a blank look. With no news of you for twelve years, I didn't even know if you were alive."

Remus shrugged. "I didn't know if I was alive. I was numb for so long."

"I kept hoping to find some sign of you or hear word of you after I broke out, but there was nothing," Sirius continued. "I had to get to Hogwarts and protect Harry, so I wasn't able to spend a lot of time looking. On the way up, I kept promising myself that as soon as I took care of Peter, I'd come and find you."

He wriggled down into a more comfortable position, pulling Remus close beside him until their hips and knees touched and their feet tangled together. "But as soon as I came into the castle that first time, I could smell you. I thought at first it was a ghost scent -- my wishful thinking and you having been there so long ago -- but it was too strong, and I knew you were there somewhere, and I had to see you."

Remus remembered waking in his room on Halloween morning, black dog hairs clinging to the bedspread, and how it had affected him. "I'm glad you came that night," he whispered. "and Christmas as well. I've been so lonely, Padfoot --" his voice broke and a hot tear slid down his cheek.

Suddenly warm lips were there, kissing it away. Remus drew back in surprise and stared into Sirius's questioning gray eyes. I could kiss him right now, he thought. I want to. But if we start down that road -- there's no time. Reluctantly, he laid his head against Sirius's chest again and listened to the now-rapid beat.

After a moment's silence, Remus spoke, trying to find a way to answer the question he had seen in Sirius's eyes. "You said you'd hoped I had got on with my life. I didn't." He struggled to find the words. "I've been alone so long. There's been no one since you, Padfoot."

He felt rather than heard Sirius's sigh of relief.

"I thought for a while that maybe I should try to find someone," he continued. "Just someone to be with for a while, to not be alone. I thought it might help me -- get over you." The words sounded like a confession.

"But?" Sirius asked softly.

"But in the end I realised that I didn't want to get over you," he said. "I didn't want to wipe you from my memory. I wanted to be able to remember the good things and not desecrate them, I suppose, by bringing someone else to my bed. It didn't seem right. And I would only have been using them, anyway."

"I'm sorry," Sirius murmured into his hair. "I'm sorry you were alone for so long. That's another thing Peter will pay for when the time comes," he said firmly. "But I'm glad," he added. "I'm glad that, even then, you were mine. I guess I'm just selfish that way." There was a smile in his voice.

"I love you, Sirius," Remus replied simply. "Sorry, glad, selfish, absent; I'm always yours."

"And I love you, Remus," said Sirius. "Even when you're blubbing like a girl all down my front."

Remus choked back a laugh, sniffed and wiped his eyes. "That obvious, eh?" he grinned. "Well, I believe I have good cause. You're here and you're innocent. I am very much inclined to believe that all is well with the world."

"Well, I don't know about innocent," said Sirius, a wicked, teasing edge to his voice. "I prefer to think of it more as 'not guilty'."

"Just like you to go and spoil the moment with unsubtle innuendo," Remus chided.

"Give me a chance, Moony; I'm rusty. I'm sure before long I'll remember exactly what sort of things I used to say to get in your pants -- er -- when you were wearing them, that is."

"Sirius, it's not that I don't -- I mean -- I still -- " He blushed and took a deep breath before starting again. "It's too soon, Sirius."

"I know." Sirius gave him a squeeze. "You're right. You're always right about these things." He sighed. "But you would?"

"Drop it, Sirius," Remus warned with a playfully punch in the shoulder. "You're not allowing me much room for maintaining mystique."

"Well, I suppose I can survive being deprived a little longer." He sighed again, this time more dramatically.

"I wonder what time it is?" Remus said at last, reluctantly.

"Well," Sirius began, "it's June, and we're well north, and it was about sunrise when I had my swim, so now it would be ... sometime after that. Sorry, Moony, I guess I've lost all track of the time."

"Maybe --" Remus said, then stopped.

"I know," Sirius said heavily. "I should go. You need to get back to the castle before questions start getting asked and someone comes looking for you. And Buckbeak and I need to be away from here soon."

"Where will you go?" asked Remus.

"I don't know. I'll have to leave the country, I expect. Get far enough away from here that I won't be recognised. Being cleaned up a bit will help with that," he gazed thoughtfully into a spot of sunlight. "I'd like to go someplace warm, I think. Spending twelve years in a cold, damp cell on a rock in the North Sea has given me a longing for the tropics."

"I wish you didn't have to go again so soon," Remus said. "I'm not ready to lose you."

"Lose me?" Sirius sounded genuinely surprised. "Aren't you coming with me?"

"Well -- I -- that is -- I hadn't thought --"

"Not right away, of course, I suppose," Sirius mused. "That would look suspicious. But the school year is over. What were you planning to do over the summer?"

What indeed? thought Remus. Go back to my lonely, dingy little flat? He was amazed by how far removed from that life he had become in the past twelve hours. A smile blossomed on his face. "I suppose you're right. I could just fancy a holiday, and I should be getting paid for this year's teaching soon."

Sirius gave him another squeeze and kissed the top of his head. "Then that's settled," he declared. "But I won't tell you where I'm going, in case they ask you. I'm sure you'll be able to find me."

"No doubt I will." Remus sat up and pulled Sirius into a warm embrace.

When he drew back, there was Sirius's face very close to his own, a searching look in his eyes. Again, the thought of kissing him entered Remus's mind. Should I? he wondered. No. Not with both of us -- like this; it would just lead to -- it's too soon.

He blushed and pulled away, making a bigger production than necessary of getting to his feet to hide the fact that it was fairly obvious -- and must have been to Sirius as well -- that they shared similar thoughts.

He picked up his clothes from the ground and shook them out, handing Sirius the outer robe. "Here, you can wear this," he said, not quite meeting his eyes. He hastily pulled on the shirt and trousers as Sirius swirled the robes about his shoulders. Once they were decent he felt able to meet Sirius's eyes again.

Remus raised his eyebrows at the other man. "Shall we?"

Arm in arm they walked through the woods towards Hagrid's hut. Along the way they pointed out to one another spots of special significance where the escapades of yesteryear had taken place.

At last Remus caught sight of Buckbeak through the trees. "I'd better stop here if he doesn't like me."

Sirius nodded. "So I guess this is goodbye. For now." He looked suddenly helpless and uncertain.

"Better than last time." Remus attempted a smile. "There wasn't time for goodbye then."

Sirius looked as if he was going to say something but Remus turned back to Buckbeak. "I think I can spell him not to be seen, at least temporarily. I'll just strengthen the spell that makes it so Muggles can't see him. It should last until tonight at least. But what can I do about you?" He looked at Sirius consideringly. "I can't make you invisible, and you'll look a bit odd just flying through the air on your own." He tapped his lips. "Ah, I have it!"

He looked around until he found a straight branch of a good thickness, about five feet in length. "From far enough away, this should look like a broom. Just keep a good grip on it."

Sirius took it from him, still looking uncertain. He did not say anything as Remus augmented the spell on Buckbeak, making it so that only he and Remus could see the Hippogriff, and that only because they already knew he was there.

At last, Remus turned to him. "Here," he said, pressing his wand into Sirius's hand. "You'll need it more than I will, and I can get another one without too much trouble."

Sirius opened his mouth, but at first no sound emerged. "Thank you," he managed at last. "Remus, this --" a tear spilled down his cheek.

"Go," Remus urged him gently.

He nodded, turning towards Buckbeak. He had taken only a couple of steps before he turned back.

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" he asked.

In a heartbeat, Remus had closed the distance between them. He cupped Sirius's face in his hands and tilted his chin up. Their eyes met as they hesitated, both of them realising how long it had been since they had done this, and then Remus pressed his lips against Sirius's.

After a moment of complete stillness, Sirius's tongue flicked hesitantly against Remus's lips. His lips parted, and with that tiny motion the floodgates which had held his passions in check for a dozen years opened. He moaned against Sirius's mouth, tasting him, and Sirius responded hungrily, pressing against him. Sirius. Warm, alive, innocent, present.

At last, Remus reluctantly broke the kiss.

"Well," said Sirius breathlessly, "I guess that's one less thing we have to worry about."

"God, I wish I could keep you here," Remus growled. "Term technically lasts another week, but I suppose it will look just as dodgy for me to be nipping off to the forest all the time as it would if I left early." He sighed.

"A week," Sirius promised. "Maybe two. Then you'll find me and it will be all bright sunlight, sandy beaches and drinks with little umbrellas in. We'll get Muggle jobs. You can be a bar tender, and I'll be a sexy cabana boy." He grinned.

Remus nodded. "Soon," he promised. "I will find you." He let go of Sirius and stepped back.

Sirius smiled weakly then turned once more towards Buckbeak. He bowed to the Hippogriff who was still eyeing Remus suspiciously but returned the bow after a moment. Sirius approached and patted the beast's shoulder before swinging a leg over.

He waved to Remus. "Until we meet again, Moony!" he called, and then they were rising into the air and out of sight beyond the treetops.

Remus walked back to the castle whistling. It looked like it was shaping up to be a beautiful day.