Ye Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon

Remus took a long draft of the Wolfsbane Potion, shuddering at its taste. Not even a good book could distract him from the awful essence it left in his mouth. He sighed and put his book down, draining the rest of the potion. As soon as he set the smoking bottle down, he went into the little kitchen to make some tea. His one bedroom flat was small, but he'd immediately taken a liking to it; the boardinghouse had once been a private library, and he loved the warm, brown, bookish smell that seemed to pervade the building.

He lightly tapped the kettle with his wand and summoned a few teacups and some biscuits. He left the kettle to its own devices; after ten years, it knew how he liked his tea. The floor of the living room was covered with books; he knew he should clean them up, but he somehow found the cluttered quality comforting.

A rush of flame came from the fireplace behind him; Remus felt his heart rate increase; he grabbed his wand and whirled around, ready to defend himself--

Dumbledore's aged head sat in the flames, sparks harmlessly dancing in his beard. Remus let out a sigh of relief. Dumbledore gave him a small smile that did not reach his eyes. "Good evening, Remus. Were you going to attack me?"

"Something's wrong, isn't it?" said Remus quickly. Dumbledore's eyes were no longer sparkling, and he seemed much more tired than Remus had ever seen him.

"Yes, Remus. I know that you're in no shape to deal with all the information I'm about to give you, but I beg you to bear with me. It is of utmost importance that we move quickly." Dumbledore spoke swiftly and quietly, as though he was worried about someone overhearing them.

"I'll be fine, Headmaster." He drew up a chair next to the fireplace. "What happened?"

"You know about the Triwizard Tournament that took place, do you not?" said Dumbledore gravely. Remus nodded; who hadn't, what with that Skeeter woman writing garbage all over the Daily Prophet? "You also know that Harry was entered into the Tournament."

"Sirius told me about that."

"Good. Last night was the final task of the Tournament. Both Harry and a fellow Hogwarts student, Cedric Diggory, reached the Cup at the same time. The Cup was a Portkey. It took them to a graveyard, where Voldemort was waiting for them."

Remus felt a pang of fear and dread, but he said nothing, allowing Dumbledore to continue. "Cedric was killed by one of Voldemort's servants. As for Harry...Voldemort used a most ancient form of Dark Magic, including Harry's blood. He has returned, Remus, returned and more powerful than he ever was."

He knew he should've felt frightened, but all he felt was the need for action. Fear could come later. "What do you want me to do?" he said quickly. He made as if to stand up from his chair, but Dumbledore shook his head slightly.

"Cornelius is opposing us at the moment, so nothing drastic can be done. I've sent Sirius to contact some of the original Order. I want you to send letters to anyone whom Sirius may have missed."

"I can't contact Sirius, not while he's on the run," said Remus with some puzzlement. Dumbledore's face broke into the first full smile Remus had seen that evening.

"You won't have to. I told Sirius to gather up some of the old crowd, but due to the situation, he needs a...ah, less remote place to stay. I've told him to come and stay with you for the time being."

Remus froze; Dumbledore's words seemed to be having trouble penetrating his brain. He seemed to watch from a distance, floating up near the ceiling lamp as his mouth answered Dumbledore perfectly normally. He couldn't even make sense of what he was saying, just how calm and collected he sounded, when he was feeling anything but.

Then suddenly, the moment of vertigo was over, and he was back in front of the fireplace. "This place is a bit small for two people, and the full moon is tomorrow...perhaps it would be better if he stayed--" Dumbledore cut off Remus's words with a little shake of his head.

"He'll only be with you for two weeks at most. After that, he'll be staying at the Order headquarters, once we collect everyone and find a suitable place." Remus nodded numbly. "Excellent. Thank you, Remus." With that, Dumbledore's head disappeared with a small pop, leaving Remus to his mixed and painful emotions.

Remus slumped back into his chair and closed his eyes. He spent a few seconds pulling himself back together; now was no time to fall apart and succumb to the emotions he'd kept repressed for so long. He walked back into his bedroom, opened the closet, and pulled a very large, heavy, dusty box from the top shelf. The dust made him sneeze as he opened the box.

Inside were photographs, at least fourteen years old. Remus pushed the photos and little notes aside until he came across a scroll of parchment, sealed shut with a blob of magical wax. He tapped the scroll and whispered, "Lemon drop."

The scroll furled open, revealing the names of the original Order of the Phoenix. It was spelled to stay up-to-date, crossing out the names of those who had been lost. Remus looked down the list with a pang in his chest, noting that a full one-third of the names had a single, neat line through them. Near the bottom of the list, he saw that Peter Pettigrew's name was still unmarred, without the single slash line. If only he had checked the scroll before Sirius's sentencing...if only he had looked twice...

An uncharacteristically cold look filled Remus's eyes. He grabbed his quill and drew a line through Pettigrew's name. Peter was as good as dead to him. Again, he took a moment to compose himself; he looked down the rest of the list. Everyone who had been alive at the end of the war was still alive; that was definitely good. He walked back out into the kitchen and grabbed a stack of envelopes from the table. Looking at the list, he realized that there were at least four people whom Sirius would never be able to contact. He started writing out their names and addresses.

The clock struck ten at night. Remus paused to listen to it for a moment before going back to his writing. He hadn't gotten more than a name down on the fourth envelope before he heard a knocking on his door. He slowly put the quill and ink down and made his way over to the door, forcing himself to be calm.

As soon as the door was open, he let out an involuntary gasp. Sirius was soaking wet and obviously freezing; he managed a weak smile before collapsing into Remus's arms. Remus felt a strange twist in his heart as he supported Sirius and helped him in. After Azkaban, Sirius felt painfully thin to Remus as he dragged him over to the couch and gently helped him lie down. Sirius closed his eyes and smiled more broadly as Remus cast a spell to dry his clothes, and another to warm him up.

"Thanks a million, Remus," he whispered; his voice was harsh and ragged from disuse, more Padfoot than Sirius. Remus shook his head and shushed him; Sirius was incredibly pale, and even after the spells, he was shivering.

"I'm going to get you some potion. You're half frozen to death. Stay here." He quickly left the room and walked into the bathroom. The potion cabinet was mainly used for storing the bottles of Wolfsbane Potion, but he did have some other potions. He rummaged around until he found a bottle of Pepperup Potion. He walked back into the living room; Sirius made as if to get up, but Remus shook his head.

"Remus, I'm fine," he muttered. Remus felt a smile break across his face for the first time.

"No, you're not. You've never acknowledged it when you're not, you great prat." He tapped the Pepperup Potion with his wand to warm it and handed it to Sirius. "Drink it all. I'll run the water in the bath; you definitely need a decent bath," he said, wrinkling his nose slightly.

Sirius smiled bitterly. "It's worse as Padfoot."

"I can imagine." Remus was about to leave when he suddenly felt Sirius's claw-like hand grab his arm. He slowly turned back to Sirius, heart thumping madly. "Sirius..."

"Don't just leave me here," Sirius said quietly. "We...we need to talk about so much..."

A jolt of electricity ran up Remus's spine as he and Sirius locked eyes. He bit his lip, struggling to maintain control over himself. "We'll talk later. You're in no shape to talk right now. I'll be back in a few moments." Sirius reluctantly let go of him, and Remus headed through the single bedroom and into the bathroom, taking deep breaths and forcing himself to relax.

He turned on the hot water tap and ran the water for a minute, waiting for it to get warm. As soon as it was at a decent temperature, he put the stopper in the bath and waited for it to fill up. As an afterthought, he waved his wand around in the water, and red and gold bubbles filled the bath.

"Bubbles?" said Sirius's incredulous voice behind him. Remus started and turned around. Sirius was leaning against the doorway with a half-amused, half-exasperated look on his face. Remus stood up and took his arm; Sirius resisted for just a moment before relenting and leaning on him.

Remus smiled a little and shrugged. "Gryffindor bubbles. Remember when we changed the bubbles in the Slytherins' soap to red and gold?"

"And all of them went about with our colors plastered all over their faces for a week," said Sirius with the first full smile Remus had seen from him. "How much detention did we get for that one?"

"You and James got a week of scrubbing the castle with Filch."

"Yeah, and you only got two days, because you didn't actually turn the bubbles. You just provided the spell." Suddenly, a pained look flitted across Sirius's face. Remus noticed it and immediately changed the subject, keeping his tone light and casual.

"Never mind. The water's hot, so wash up. I'll leave a set of my robes for you to change into. They might be a little short on you, but we'll have to get you some new robes anyway."

"Remus, can we just talk for--"

"Sirius, you've traveled Merlin knows how far, and you haven't had a bath or meal for goodness knows how long. We'll talk once you're in better shape," said Remus in his "teacher" voice. Sirius relented and started stripping off his robes; Remus felt a flush rise in his cheeks, and he quickly left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He could hear the splash of water as he went over to the closet.

Ironically, the longest set of robes in his closet were from when he was still at Hogwarts; his mother had accidentally sent him a set of robes that were one size too big. They would be somewhat wide on Sirius, but the length was about right. He noticed with a pang that before Azkaban, the set of robes would've fit Sirius perfectly. He left them in front of the door and headed back into the kitchen. He warmed up some soup from the night before and grabbed two bottles of butterbeer. He heard the bathroom door open, and Sirius walked out with only a bathrobe wrapped around his thin body.

Remus had to force himself not to stare. Sirius's long, dark hair hung to his back, wet and dripping water all over his carpet. The bathrobe hung half-open down Sirius's chest; he could see the ribs poking through Sirius's pale skin. And yet, despite it all, Sirius retained a hypnotic, unconscious grace in his movements; he moved like a wild animal. All of his motions were long, well-balanced, and almost elegant...in a feral sort of way.

"Is that dinner?" said Sirius, spotting the steaming bowl of soup on the table.

Remus wrenched himself back to the real world. "Yes. We can talk over dinner and some butterbeer." He flicked his wand at Sirius's dripping hair, drying it in a flash. Sirius gave him a shadow of his old, sparkling smile.

He sat down and inhaled the scent of the soup. He hungrily spooned some of it into his mouth, savoring the taste. "I haven't had soup in so long...it's excellent, Remus."

"It's actually a Muggle recipe, if you can believe it. Wild rice soup or something." Remus popped the cork off of his butterbeer and took a long drink.

"Aren't you going to have any dinner?" asked Sirius.

"I've already eaten." Remus shoved the other bottle toward Sirius. He waited until Sirius had finished the soup before saying anything more. "So what's going on? Dumbledore hardly told me anything."

Sirius's face darkened. He recounted Harry's account of what had happened in the graveyard, and how Barty Crouch had infiltrated the school. Remus was silent as he explained all the events that had happened over the past year. When he had finished, both of them sat in mutual silence for a few minutes; Remus was busy digesting and making sense of everything he had just heard.

"So what does Dumbledore want from us?" Remus asked quietly after a few minutes.

"I've already contacted Mundungus, Arabella, and Hestia, but everyone else lives too far away for me to reach. We need to contact them, then we need to just wait until more orders come from Dumbledore."

"OK. Sounds good. I've already got some envelopes, so we can contact the rest." He took another long drink of butterbeer. "Anything else?"

Sirius drained his butterbeer. "Well...I've been thinking about the Order headquarters. We were initially thinking Hogwarts, but Dumbledore knows that that's what Voldemort will expect. So right now, we don't have a place to assemble."

Remus frowned slightly as he cleared the table. "That's certainly a problem...I can't think of any places off the top of my head."

"Neither can I. But I guess we can just leave that to Dumbledore." Sirius leaned his chair back on its hind two legs and let out a small sigh of contentment. "Thanks for the dinner and the bath, Remus."

"No problem. Merlin knows you needed it." Remus idly pulled out his wand and waved it at the butterbeer bottles and Sirius's now-empty bowl of soup. The bottles and bowl flew into the chipped sink with the rest of the dirty dishes. He flicked his wand at the dishes, which immediately started doing themselves.

Sirius watched him with a slightly wistful look. "It's been so long since I've had a wand..." he said softly. Remus turned to look at him, but Sirius's gaze was elsewhere, looking over his shoulder and into the past. "I wish I could have my old wand back...I keep reaching for it, and it's never there..."

"Twelve and a half inches, ebony, dragon heartstring," said Remus quietly. Sirius started out of his mental reverie and stared at him. He smiled slightly at the dumbfounded expression on the other man's face. "Yes...I still remember." Then what Sirius had just said hit him, and he suddenly frowned in disapproval and concern.

"What's wrong?" Remus gave him an exasperated glance.

"What's wrong? You went running all over Scotland without a wand? With Voldemort back, Death Eaters on the loose, and the Ministry after you? Didn't Dumbledore at least offer you a spare wand?"

Had Sirius been a dog, the hair on his back would've lifted. As it was, he simply narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in annoyance. "Well, I didn't exactly have time to stroll into Ollivanders, Remus. And Dumbledore couldn't exactly just hand me any old person's wand, now could he?"

"Why not?" asked Remus in surprise; he hadn't expected such a strong reaction out of Sirius. "I bet he keeps something useful up in that office of his. Why couldn't you just--"

Sirius stood up suddenly and began pacing next to the little table. He didn't look at Remus as he walked back and forth. After a while, he simply said, "Harry was in danger, and I needed to contact the Order. So I didn't exactly think ahead. So what?" He stopped pacing and looked defiantly at Remus.

Remus stood up as well, now more angry than surprised. "So what? So what? Didn't you learn anything when we were in the Order before?"

The other man froze and stared at him. Neither of them moved. "Yes," Sirius said in a low growl. "Especially when people fell."

The comment was meant to hurt, to twist, and Remus knew it. He didn't take the bait. Instead, he sat back down, forcing himself to be calm. Sirius was the only person who ever made him lose control of himself, and he knew that. After a few deep breaths, he said, "The very first thing Dumbledore told us was to never be caught without wands. Never. Don't you realize the danger you put yourself in?"

Sirius snorted. "You mean the danger you were never willing to put yourself in? There are some things that are worth that kind of danger."

To his disgust, Remus felt his eyes filling with furious tears. He forced them back and slowly stood up. He walked past Sirius without a word and leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, taking a few moments to compose himself. Had he truly expected Sirius to still be the laughing, beautiful boy he had once been? Had he really thought that Sirius would understand his feelings that he had kept secret for so long? Remus felt a pang of self-disgust at his weakness and naiveté. Once relaxed, he turned back to face Sirius.

Sirius opened his mouth, but Remus violently cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Don't talk to me about what is or isn't dangerous, Black," he said coldly. "I'm a werewolf. I should know after thirty years of being a monster." He took a few steps into the room, calling over his shoulder, "I'll pull the sofa out foryou after I've washed up."

The warm water felt good on his face, but his insides were writing with an awful mix of anger, guilt, and burning disappointment. He knew that he shouldn't have been short with Sirius; he knew that calling Sirius by his surname would wound him deeply. He had only used the other man's surname once...after the Whomping Willow incident back in fifth year. Remus dried his face on the slightly threadbare towel, brushed his teeth, and walked back into the bedroom.

Sirius was sitting on his bed. In one swift movement, he stood up and caught Remus's shoulder as he unsuccessfully tried to maneuver around him. Remus kept his face quite expressionless as Sirius opened his mouth to speak.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm tired, and I haven't talked to anyone properly for weeks on end." He paused for a few moments, apparently searching for the right words to say. "And I know you were just worried, Remus, but we're not at Hogwarts anymore, and I'm not stupid and sixteen anymore. I know what I'm doing, so just don't worry about me."

Remus smiled mirthlessly. "Wandering about without a wand? I didn't think even you were stupid enough to do that."

"I apologized, didn't I? And I know it was stupid of me, don't I? C'mon, Remus...don't be mad just for something stupid I said," pleaded Sirius. Remus sighed heavily and nodded, brushing Sirius's hands off his shoulder.

"OK. And I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to snap at you...just lack of sleep and all." A very awkward silence persisted for a few moments before Remus broke it like a physical object. He fought down the turbulent emotions that struggled to overwhelm his tired mind. "I'll just pull the sofa out...then we can both get some sleep."

He did not look back at Sirius as he flicked his wand at the sofa. Sirius didn't say anything as he lay down. He simply tucked the blankets around himself and turned away. Remus watched him for a moment with a twisting feeling of regret and guilt in his chest. He probably should've tried to console Sirius...he put it from his mind as he changed into his pajamas and went to bed.

The usual insomnia that came before the full moon was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of tiredness. Remus sleepily curled up into a warm ball and knew no more.

"It wasn't me! I didn't--I didn't--James--Lily--I'm innocent, INNOCENT! No--please don't, please don't! Help me! Anyone...help!" Remus woke with a jolt as terrified, heartbreaking screaming filled his ears. For a moment, he thought he'd been having a nightmare. Then he recognized the voice doing the screaming. He dashed out of the bedroom and into the living room, heart pounding.

Sirius had thrashed the covers off until only a few sheets were twisted around his neck. His thin frame was contorted with nightmarish pain and agony. Remus ripped the sheets away and held Sirius in his arms, willing him to feel his warm flesh and steady heartbeat. Sirius struggled desperately, still screaming. "No--I'm innocent--innocent--it wasn't me, Remus! I didn't do it! Please, Remus, PLEASE believe me!"

A lump rose in this throat at the sound of his own name. Remus bit back something between a choke and a sob. He ran his hands through Sirius's long, untamed hair. "It's ok. I'm here. I believe you, Padfoot. You're innocent," he whispered. Sirius's eyes flew open; they were full of tears and a nightmare induced terror. Remus took him in his arms and gently rocked him back and forth. "It's ok, Padfoot. It's ok. I believe you. I always have."

Maybe it was the sound of his old nickname, or maybe it was Remus's mere presence, but Sirius quieted; he was still shaking, but he no longer screamed. Remus leaned over and lit a few candles. They shed a shivering light on Sirius's thin face. His cheeks were still streaked with tears. Remus held him tighter, stroking his hair. When Sirius had stopped shaking, Remus made as if to let go, but Sirius convulsively clutched at his arm. He gently helped the other man into a sitting position, letting Sirius lean back against his chest.

"Remus?" whispered Sirius shakily after a few minutes.

"I'm here. It's ok. Just a bad dream."

"It's a nightmare I've had over and over in Azkaban," said Sirius weakly. His grip on Remus's arm was so tight as to be nearly painful. Remus gently loosened his fingers and grasped his hand. Sirius clutched at his fingers with his own, barely aware of what he was doing. "I...Peter was standing on the ruins of Lily and James' house...laughing...and he raised his arms...and summoned the dementors." Sirius's harsh, halting voice broke as he struggled to collect himself. "They got Harry first...everyone from the Order, from Hogwarts, was there...just watching. They didn't try to stop it...and Peter shouted for all of them to hear that I betrayed Lily and James..."

Remus said nothing. Sirius leaned his head back to look into his eyes; Remus saw the shadows and shutters in his eyes and longed more than anything else to push them away. "And you...Remus...you were there...and you just watched as they came for me...you just watched...standing next to Wormtail...just watched with--tears in your eyes when they--they--"

Sirius dropped his head into his free hand. After a few seconds, he lifted his head. "S-sorry...I didn't mean to fall apart all over you like that."

"It's ok. Happens to the best of us," said Remus, struggling to keep his tone light. "You want something warm to drink, Sirius?"

"No...just...stay here for a few. I'll be alright." Remus tucked the blankets back around him before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He didn't realize until a few minutes later that Sirius's hand was still clutched in his own. Tentatively, he used his other hand to smooth Sirius's dark hair and gently stroke his arm. To his surprise, Sirius didn't flinch.

"Remus...there's something I need to tell you. We really need to talk," said Sirius after a few more quiet minutes.

"We can talk later...you need sleep--"

"We're going to talk now, while you're still here." Remus opened his mouth to speak, but Sirius cut him off. "Please just hear me out, Moony. I should've told you everything after I broke out of Azkaban. I should've confessed when you took Padfoot in for a few days. I--no, I should've told you once I knew...back in sixth year...some Gryffindor I am."

"Sirius, what are you on about? What--?" He froze as Sirius sat up and pressed a finger to his lips in one motion. Their faces were barely an inch apart. He could smell the soap on Sirius's skin; Moony could smell lingering fear, but it wasn't the fear from the dream. It was old fear...and a desperate passion.

"I didn't lie when I told you and James that I didn't fancy girls. But the truth was that I didn't fancy boys either. I loved a boy. Singular. Just one." Remus didn't know if he was still breathing as Sirius moved closer. Their noses were almost touching. The candlelight flickered in his intense, passion-heated gray eyes. "Just you, Remus. It's always been just you."

Remus didn't even try to speak this time; he knew he was beyond the ability to articulate anything like English. His heart seemed to have stopped beating...or maybe it was finally beating at last. Sirius backed away, and Remus silently cried out at the sudden distance between them. Sirius must've seen something, because his expression suddenly became soft and melancholy.

"If you don't want me, that's fine. I just want you to know that I love you, and I always have. Azkaban has taken so much from me, but it hasn't taken that. I love you. I just thought you should know." He started to turn away. Remus reached out and grabbed his hands; he couldn't process what he was doing anymore; all he could think of was Sirius.

"Remus..." began Sirius as Remus whirled him around.

"Shut up, you great prat," said Remus quietly, without malice. He closed the distance between them in one swift movement, kissing Sirius fiercely. For the longest time, he was only aware of Sirius's hands desperately clinging to him, his mouth possessively locked onto his own. When they finally had to breathe, Remus realized that Sirius was lying on top of him, breathing hard.

"You...Remus, tell me that wasn't just a pity kiss," said Sirius; his breathing was uneven, and uncertainty plagued his eyes. Remus kissed him along his neck and cheeks, tasting Sirius's scent on his lips; Sirius shuddered with desire in his arms.

"Would I ever do such a thing to you?" asked Remus between kisses. "Would I ever...oh, Sirius ...my Padfoot..." He didn't say anything else after that as Sirius's mouth passionately enveloped his own. Their kisses came hot and desperate, hands wandering over each other's bodies, longing for more.

Remus gasped as Sirius's hands slid under his shirt, electric and burning against Remus's cool skin. He clutched at Sirius's bathrobe, pushing it off his shoulders. The dim candlelight illuminated Sirius's bare shoulders and chest; try as he might, Remus could not suppress a shudder. Sirius's arms and chest covered with prison brands and scars, some of which looked horribly self-inflicted. Sirius noticed and stopped stroking, sitting up and turning away.

"Oh, Sirius, why didn't you tell me?" he whispered. Sirius said nothing; he rearranged the bathrobe and stood up, facing the window and the lit candles.

"I hardly blame you, Remus," he said quietly, bitterly. "Who wants a man scarred and raped by Azkaban?"

"That's not what I was talking about." He stood up as well and delicately wrapped his arms around Sirius's waist from behind. "I've been so worried...but...Sirius, you haven't been cutting yourself, have you?"

Sirius abruptly pulled away, pulling out of Remus's arms. "What would you have done in my position? I don't do it anymore."

"You were cutting yourself in Azkaban," whispered Remus in horror. "Padfoot, why didn't you tell me?"

"What the hell would you've done?!" shouted Sirius, whirling around to face him, his thin face twisted with pain. "What the hell could I do? What was there left for me to live for in there?! You...you've never felt what it's like to be trapped in your own head...left with nothing but the worst of your life...DAMN YOU, DON'T TOUCH ME!" He forcefully shoved Remus's hands away; Remus backed away, feeling tears prickle at his eyes, but he made no effort to stop them.

"Fine." Remus swallowed hard, his Adam's apple riding painfully in his throat. "Sirius..." He sighed heavily, feeling a single tear trickle down his cheek. "I just wanted to help you."

"You thought I was a murderer, along with the rest of the wizarding world," said Sirius harshly, but he stopped shouting. "Just leave me be."

"No," said Remus quietly. The tears were flowing freely down his face, and he turned away so Sirius could not seen him crying.

"No?" said Sirius in a soft, deadly voice. "Remus, if you ever loved me in any form, you'd understand that I need to be alone." Remus felt his breath catch in his throat; he angrily wiped the tears away, turned around, and gripped Sirius's shoulders hard.

"Look, I know you're better than this, Sirius, and you know you're better. But thirteen years in Azkaban and nearly a year on the run have totally destabilized and demoralized you emotionally. Whether you want to admit it or not, you're still a danger to yourself. I am not about to let you destroy yourself, and I am going to help you if it kills us both." He saw a flash of anger in Sirius's eyes, but he plunged on. "I'm not saying you're a mental case, and I'm not accusing you of being suicidal. I'm saying that it's been a while since you've been anything like emotionally stable, and after all you've been through, it's a marvel that you haven't cracked. I refuse to let you crack when I can finally do something to help you. Do you understand me, Sirius Black?" Sirius dropped his gaze, but Remus cupped his chin and forced it back up. "Look at me, Sirius."

"Alright," said Sirius in barely a whisper, like a young child. Remus felt his heart split down its seam, but he collected himself and helped Sirius back onto the sofa bed. "You're right, Remus...I'm...sorry for shouting at you."

"It's alright...I can hardly blame you." He gently tucked the covers around Sirius's emaciated form and placed a light, chaste kiss on his forehead. He simply sat there, smoothing Sirius's hair and waiting for him to fall asleep. As he waited, he hummed softly, holding Sirius's hands in his own.

"What're you singing?" said Sirius after a few minutes.

"Sleep, Sirius." When Sirius did not close his eyes, Remus said, "It's called Ye Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon...it's a Scottish folk-song that I while I was teaching." Sirius lay back, closing his eyes. "I'll sing it for you if you like." Sirius murmured assent, and Remus began to sing; his singing voice was far from opera quality, but it was soft, low, and soothing.

"Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom so fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I so weary, full o' care?

Ye'll break my heart, ye warbling birds,
That wanton through the flow'ry thorn,
Ye 'minds me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return.

Oft have I rov'd by bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its love,
And fondly so did I o' mine.

With lightsome heart I pulled a rose,

Full sweet upon it's thorny tree
And my false lover stole my rose,
But ah! he left the thorn with me."

By the end of the song, Sirius's breathing was soft, deep, and peaceful, and Remus knew he was asleep. He gently kissed Sirius's fingers and blew out the flickering candles, lying down next to Sirius, still holding his hand. He watched Sirius sleep for several long minutes; Remus felt as though he'd woken up in one world and was falling asleep to wake up in another...one where he and Sirius finally had a sliver of a chance. As he closed his eyes, he knew that he and Sirius had the power to destroy each other; he could only hope that this time, fate would be kinder than before.

"This will not be easy, Padfoot," he whispered to the sleeping Sirius. "But it will be worth it...it will be worth it to see you happy again."