Part Ten: Recover
Much to Remus’ relief, the trip to the island went without incident. He didn’t know very much about the Caribbean, but the two of them flew around until they saw an island that looked like it had fewer tourists than the rest and touched down on an empty beach.
“Quick, let’s get Buckbeak out of sight,” Remus said, and the two of them hastened to a small grove of trees. “If hippogriffs can stay out of sight in England, they can manage it here. I say we just let him wander.”
Sirius nodded and looked at Buckbeak. “You mustn’t let anyone see you,” he said.
Buckbeak gave him a disdainful look.
Sirius gave the hippogriff a fond smile. The Polyjuice Potion had worn off while they were flying, so he looked like himself again. “Yes, yes, you already know that.” He turned back to Remus. “Now what?”
“Now we change into our Muggle clothes.” Remus opened his suitcase and tossed a pair of pants and shirt to Sirius, then pulled out some for himself. He studiously turned his back and changed, then stuck his robes back into his suitcase.
“The shirt is a little tight,” Sirius said.
Remus glanced up and stared. “Uhm . . .” Sirius was now dressed in loose jeans and a very tight black T-shirt. He was puzzling over the zipper of the jeans. Sirius had never been particularly fond of Muggle clothes. Remus tried to get his jaw off the ground and swallowed hard. “It looks fine,” he finally managed. “Now please, button your pants before I attempt to climb in them with you.”
Sirius laughed a little. “I just pull the little tab, is that it?”
Remus nodded.
Sirius, fortunately, managed to get his pants done without Remus’ help. “You look good too, Moony,” he said with a smirk.
Remus nearly melted to hear the old nickname, then nearly melted again when the meaning of Sirius’ words kicked in. “Thanks,” he said, blushing. “I don’t know what the logo on the shirt means, though.” Remus had dressed himself in a white T-shirt with a small logo and khaki pants.
“I doubt it matters,” Sirius said.
“Let’s go find a place to stay,” Remus said. He picked up his suitcase, bowed to Buckbeak, and set off. Sirius followed him. The two of them walked down the beach together. Sirius found himself shrinking away from the bright light, but as they walked along, the sun began to set.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, staring at it.
Remus stopped, putting his arm around Sirius’ waist. “It really is . . .”
The two of them stood there a long time, simply watching the sunset. Finally, when it had disappeared entirely, they began to walk again.
“These look promising,” he said, nodding to a small set of identical cottages. “Think any of them are free?”
“I don’t know,” Remus said. “I’m not sure when the most tourists come to these islands. But there’s only one way to find out.” He found the biggest cottage in the set and saw a sign on one of the doors that said ‘Office.’ The door was propped open.
He stuck his head in nervously. “Er, excuse me,” he said. “Are any of these cottages empty?”
The man behind the desk bustled towards them. “Of course, of course. We rent a week at a time.”
“That’s fine,” Remus said.
The landlord was very efficient; he had Sirius and Remus in a cottage in ten minutes with two weeks prepaid.
“Well, that was easy,” Remus said. “It’s getting late . . . why don’t we just make dinner and stay in tonight?”
Sirius nodded.
****
Life in paradise, Remus quickly discovered, was not paradise. Sirius acted perfectly normal, if a bit quieter than he’d once been, all up to a certain point. Beyond that point, he was impossible, and it didn’t take long for Remus to figure out where that point was.
Sirius simply refused to leave the cottage they were staying in. Remus could suggest any number of different activities, including things he was well aware Sirius had once enjoyed doing, but Sirius never wanted to do anything.
Part of this, Remus assumed, was perfectly reasonable paranoia. Stepping outside increased his chances of being seen, recognized, and sent back to Azkaban. However, Remus was fairly sure the chances of this were infinitesimal. He had already explored the entire island and found absolutely no wizards or witches of any sort, and Muggles from other countries were not very likely to have heard about an escaped prisoner from England.
However, even after this was explained to him, Sirius didn’t want to go anywhere. The only activity that he apparently wanted to spend time doing was sitting, staring out the window, and brooding. Remus knew that this was hardly good for Sirius’ mental health, but he didn’t want to pressure Sirius to recover.
“Come on, we have to go somewhere today,” he wheedled on the fourth morning of their vacation. “We’re in a place most people would love to be in. You can’t just sit inside all the time.”
“I just don’t feel like it,” Sirius said.
“Sirius, if you don’t want to be outside, why do you keep sitting at the window staring at the beach?” Remus asked, exasperated.
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” Sirius repeated, louder.
“You mean you’re not ready to go anywhere,” Remus replied. “All right, so you spent thirteen years not being able to do a damn thing and that’s what you’re used to. Fine. We don’t have to do much. We’ll just sit on the beach. But you need some sunshine and some fresh air and you’re going to get both of those things if it’s the last thing I do!”
With that, he grabbed Sirius by the arm. Sirius had been cringing away from the slightest touch that he wasn’t expecting, and he immediately tried to yank his arm away. “Leave me alone,” he muttered, drawing his knees to his chest and staring out the window.
Remus gave him a hard glare. “So you’re just going to sit here and mope for eternity?”
Sirius’ voice cracked. “I’m just not ready.”
Remus sat down on the sofa next to him. “And you’re never going to be ready if you don’t try. Every day you sit in here, you just build it up more in your mind. It’s going to get harder, not easier, the longer you wait.”
Sirius said nothing, but sat looking at the floor.
“Now come on,” Remus said, taking his hand. “We’re going to go sit on the beach for a while. You can brood there just as well as you can here.”
Sirius still didn’t reply, but he allowed Remus to pull him upwards and out the front door. He squinted as they entered the bright light. Remus tugged him down the beach, to where he had planted a couple of the cheap beach chairs he had bought. “Here we are,” he said. “Now sit.”
Sirius flopped into the chair. “And how is this helping me?” he asked dryly.
“In addition to fixing the fact that you’re pale enough to be a vampire,” Remus said, “it’s making you remember there’s a world outside your little room.”
Sirius sighed and closed his eyes. “It’s so warm . . .”
“Isn’t it nice?” Remus asked.
“Yeah . . .” Sirius said slowly.
“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Remus joked gently.
“I guess not,” Sirius said. “Remus, I’m sorry . . . I know things aren’t the way you wanted them to be . . .”
“Quiet,” Remus interrupted. “You’re with me. That’s all that matters right now. That’s the way I want things to be.”
Sirius looked over shyly. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Remus smiled at him. “Really.”
They sat in silence for a while. Around noon, Remus suggested they have a picnic. He left Sirius sitting on the beach and went to get the food. He was rather pleased to see that Sirius didn’t argue against being left alone in the great outdoors, and came back a few minutes later with a blanket to sit on, a thermos of iced tea, and some sandwiches.
Sirius, already looking a little more alive, ate three sandwiches and then stretched out on the blanket. “I need sunglasses,” he murmured.
“Why don’t we walk to town tomorrow and buy you a pair?” Remus asked casually.
Sirius hesitated. “I’m not sure I want to brave town yet. Lots of people . . . no.”
“I’ll get them for you, then,” Remus said. His eyes kept darting to Sirius, then away. Sirius looked singularly good in the outfit he was wearing. Remus had gotten them some cooler clothes once they’d reached their destination. Sirius was wearing loose olive green cotton pants that had a tendency to hang rather low on his hips, and a white button-down shirt that he had only bothered to do one button of.
“Why d’you keep doing that?” Sirius asked, sounding slightly sleepy.
“Doing what?” Remus asked.
“Looking at me, then looking somewhere else.” Sirius eyed him closely. “And blushing.”
Remus immediately attempted to suppress the blush, and failed miserably. “It’s nothing, really,” he said vaguely.
“Yeah, right,” Sirius said, then heaved a sigh. “Fine, don’t tell me.”
Remus glared at him. Then immediately looked away. “It’s a bit embarrassing, if you don’t mind.”
“Really?” Sirius sat up and looked at him quizzically. “Then I definitely want to hear it.”
Remus blushed furiously. “I’ve been celibate for thirteen years, all right? Now you show up again and in that outfit . . .” He looked steadfastly at the ocean. “It’s rather hard to look at you without being reminded of the other, many things that I would like to be doing with you right now.”
Sirius blinked at him, then smiled shyly. “Really? Right now?”
Remus looked at him nervously. “Yes. But . . . I know you aren’t ready for that. You’ve been flinching every time I touch you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Sirius said. “It’s just . . . I’m surprised you could still want me when I’m . . . like this. All bony and thin and . . . ugly.”
Yes, Remus’ mind piped up. You could probably feel every one of his ribs if you could just get your hands on him. Remus turned crimson. “You’re not ugly,” he managed, trying to keep his voice in the proper octave. “You’re not at your best, but after thirteen years that makes very little difference to my hormones.”
“I guess,” Sirius said. “It’s just hard to take in . . . after believing you hated me for so many years.”
Remus tried to think up some answer for that, but nothing came to him.
“No,” Sirius said hastily. “Never mind. I don’t think I really want to talk about that right now anyway. I’m just sorry . . . it’s one more thing I can’t do for you.”
“Sirius, the only thing you need to do for me is let me help you,” Remus said. “You’ll get better with time. I promise.”
****
Sirius adapted to freedom slowly. For a few days, he simply took walks on the beach during the day. Then Remus brought him into town for a very brief amount of time. He hated being near large amounts of people, and expressed an immediate desire to never go there again.
On the whole, however, he was doing much better by the time Polaris arrived late one night.
“Oh, look, letters!” Sirius took the envelope off from where it was secured to Polaris’ leg. “Clever Polaris, thinking to get these for us,” he said, stroking the bird’s feathers.
“What are they?” Remus asked, looking up from where he was washing the dishes with jets of soapy water from his wand.
“One’s from Allister . . . just a brief note . . . oh, and he sent us money. Remind me to yell at him later for that. At least he got it exchanged to Muggle currency first.”
“And the other?” Remus asked, putting down his wand and walking over.
There was a long pause.
“What?” Remus asked.
“It’s from Harry,” Sirius said.
“Well, read it!” Remus said, trying to peer over his shoulder and look at it.
Sirius cleared his throat. “Dear Sirius. Thanks so much for your letter; you should have seen the look on Uncle Vernon’s face when I told him I had a godfather. Then I told him that you were a convicted murderer and he looked terrified, so he ought to be taking it a lot easier on me this summer than last summer!”
Remus laughed at that, and flopped into a chair.
“The end of the school year was pretty uneventful after everything else that had happened,” Sirius continued. “I got good marks on all my exams, though I think I only passed Potions because Dumbledore wouldn’t let Snape fail me on purpose.” Sirius’ lip curled at the mention of Snape. “Everything else is going well. Ron is really grateful for the new owl. I might get to go to his house to see the World Cup this summer!”
“Is that in England this year?” Remus asked. “It’s too bad we can’t go.”
Sirius shrugged, obviously not relishing the idea of being near thousands of people. “I’m home now. Aunt Petunia has finally realized that you can’t see Dudley’s neck through all his chins, so now we’re all on a diet, even me. I had half a tomato for lunch. It’s still fun to terrify Dudley by pretending I’ll do magic on him though.
“By the way, since you seemed to be friends, I thought you should probably know that Professor Lupin had to retire because Snape was a sore loser and told everyone he was a werewolf. I don’t even want to think about what Potions will be like next year with him in such a bad mood. We’re all miserable about him having to resign as he was the best Dark Arts teacher we’ve had. So if you see him before I do, please tell him that we’ll all miss him very much.” Sirius looked up and smirked. “Isn’t that sweet, Remus?”
“Ah, shut up,” Remus said, but he was blushing.
“Anyway, I sent along a little gift since I figured you don’t have many things, just having gotten out of Azkaban and all. I have a bunch of these thanks to Hagrid, and I thought you might like some. Please write again soon, Harry.”
Frowning, Sirius picked up the last envelope and opened it. He reached in and pulled something out.
“What is it?” Remus asked eagerly.
“They’re . . . photos.” Sirius held the pile gingerly, his eyes starting to sting. “There are four of them.”
Remus moved over and sat on the sofa next to him so he could see.
The first one was a picture of James and Lily, with their arms around each other, obviously posing for the camera. Sirius stared at it for a long minute before rubbing his eyes and turning to the next. It was actually very similar, most likely taken on the same day, but James was holding an infant Harry in his arms and pointing to the camera, waving frantically in the picture, as if he were trying to get Harry to look.
“Oh, that one is so cute . . .” Remus said softly.
Sirius swallowed hard and turned to the third. This one was just James, taken in what looked like their last year of school. His hair was flying everywhere, the way Harry’s had a tendency to do, and he was leaping for the camera in an attempt to get whoever was taking the picture to not take it. As they watched, he gave them a sulky glare and stalked out of the photograph entirely.
“I think I took this one,” Sirius mused, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Mm, I think so,” Remus agreed.
Sirius flipped to the last one and stopped dead. “Oh my God . . . it’s us.”
The picture was indeed of Sirius, Remus, and James, in their last year of school. Sirius had his arm around Remus in what would appear, to the casual eye, to be in brotherly fashion. They were both leaning down a little, allowing James to peer over both of their heads. Both James and Sirius were grinning like loons, and Remus had a thoughtful little smile on his face. All three of them were waving cheerfully.
“There’s a note with this one,” Sirius said, his voice shaking. “Sirius -- Until this summer I never realized who the two people with Dad in this photo were. I suppose I should have realized upon meeting Professor Lupin, but he’s changed a lot since then. But I think Dad would have wanted you to have this one.”
Sirius put the note aside and stared at the picture.
“We look so happy,” he said, barely able to manage to get the words past the lump in his throat.
“Yeah.” Remus took the photographs out of Sirius’ trembling hands and set them on a side table.
“When I found them . . . dead . . . their house burning . . .” Sirius pressed both his hands against his face. “I couldn’t forgive myself. They made Peter their Secret-Keeper because of me. And he killed them. I may as well have killed them.”
“Sirius, no,” Remus said gently. “You didn’t know Peter was a traitor.”
“Who else could it have been?” Sirius asked. “I knew it had to be someone close to them, I knew it wasn’t either of us. Why didn’t I ever see it?”
“Because it was Peter!” Remus burst out. “Pathetic, talentless, idiotic Peter! No one knew, Sirius! No one ever even suspected!”
“But we should have . . . they didn’t have to die, Remus, they didn’t . . . have to . . . then when I found Peter . . . and he killed all those people right in front of me and there was nothing I could do . . . but I just went with the people from the Ministry because I didn’t know what else to do . . . it never occurred to me that they would just lock me up in Azkaban without even listening to what I had to say . . .”
Sirius was crying in full force now; Remus saw nothing else he could do except pull Sirius into his arms and hold him until the worst was over. Words were simply falling out of Sirius’ mouth, tripping over each other in their rush to be heard after he’d hidden from them for so long.
“Remus, you don’t know what it’s like in there, it’s awful, it’s so cold and dark and lonely, and you can’t think about anything good or happy, you can only think about the things that hurt. And you go over and over and over them, again and again and every time they hurt more, every time you think you go a little bit more crazy. God, Remus, I don’t know how I stayed sane in there . . . but I don’t think I did, really, because look at me now, I’m this pathetic crying wreck of someone who used to be a person . . . look at me in that photo, Remus, I was always so cheerful and happy and I remember being that way but I don’t know how to be that person anymore.”
Remus held him tightly, smoothing his hair and saying nothing. It sounded like the force of the words were going to rip Sirius apart, but he couldn’t hold it inside any longer.
“All I could think about was what James looked like, dead, and that street full of dead people . . . I tried to think about you, but all I could think of was how much you had to hate me, how I would never see you again, how you would go and find someone else to love and probably forget all about me . . .”
“Sirius, I would never have -- ” Remus began, but Sirius continued to talk as if Remus hadn’t spoken.
“All I could think of was how horrible everything was . . . I knew that Voldemort had fallen but it didn’t matter, I didn’t care, all I knew was that I was locked up in Azkaban, in this awful place, for the rest of my life for something I’d never even done. But I didn’t care, because I thought I deserved it for getting James and Lily killed.”
“Sirius!” Remus exclaimed, too surprised at that to come up with a decent reply.
“I did, I know I shouldn’t have thought that but I did anyway. I was the reason they died, and I knew I could never be sorry enough for making that happen . . . even if it was an accident, it didn’t matter to me . . . but then I got out and I wasn’t near the dementors anymore, and I couldn’t think. I knew you couldn’t possibly still love me after everything I’d done, but I wanted you to know that I still loved you, which was why I left you the little carved wolf . . . because I wanted you to know. And I dreamed about you, but in my dreams you always hated me . . . and killed me . . . I knew no one could ever forgive me for what I’d done . . . but then you did, and Allister did, and H-Harry did, and I don’t know what to think anymore . . .”
Remus wanted to reply, but Sirius had started to cry so hard that he wasn’t sure anything he said would be heard. So he simply held him, and waited.
Sirius finally wore himself out and sat quietly in Remus’ arms, resting his head on Remus’ shoulder.
“It wasn’t your fault, Sirius,” Remus said quietly. “And you have to believe that. You did what you thought was best. No one is going to judge you for that.”
“No one except me,” Sirius whispered.
“You have to believe me,” Remus said. “We can’t live our lives by what-ifs and might-have-beens. I learned that over the last year. We have to let the past go.”
“It’s so hard . . .” Sirius whispered.
“I know it is,” Remus replied. “But you’ve still got me, and Allister, and you have Harry now. Soon we’ll get this all cleared up and we’ll be able to move back into the house and it’ll be all right. You have to hang in there, love. Please.”
“I’m trying,” Sirius replied. “Please, I’m trying, I really am.”
“I know you are,” Remus murmured, smoothing his hair.
“Don’t know how you put up with me,” Sirius replied, closing his eyes. “I’m whiny and weak and frightened of my own shadow . . .”
“Sirius, I love you,” Remus said. “Had you forgotten that? In the past thirteen years, there wasn’t a single day that I didn’t think of you and wish you could be back with me again. And that was when I still thought you were a murderer! I’m willing to be patient through this . . . it’s all worth it to have you with me again.”
Sirius sniffled.
“All right?” Remus asked.
“All right,” Sirius replied quietly.
“Then I think we should have some ice cream,” Remus said. “Because chocolate is always the cure for dementors, even if you were only thinking about them.”
Sirius nodded.
“You know what I think we should do tomorrow?” Remus asked a minute later, walking back into the room with a large bowl of ice cream and two spoons. “I think we should go into town and find a frame for that picture.”
Sirius managed a weak smile. “All right.”
“Now come on,” Remus said. “It’s late, and you must be exhausted after that. Let’s get some sleep.”
Sirius nodded and let Remus shepherd him over to the bed. He crawled under the covers and curled up. Remus lay down next to him and curled around him in a protective gesture.
Sirius, exhausted by crying for so long, drifted off fairly quickly. But Remus didn’t sleep for a long time.
****
Part Eleven
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