Chapter Nine: Plans
It took Sirius a long time, after waking, to assimilate his surroundings into any kind of sense. He was warm, and comfortable, and a rather odd feeling that he didn’t recognize was seeping through his entire body. He finally managed to pry his eyes open and nearly jumped as he saw Remus lying beside him. They had shifted a little in the night; Remus was now lying quite separate from Sirius, curled up on his side. The analytic part of Sirius’ brain assumed this was because neither of them were really used to sleeping with someone else anymore.
He rolled over and put his arm around Remus’ waist, causing Remus to smile a little in his sleep and nestle closer. The odd feeling, that Sirius could only describe as ‘warm and fuzzy’, intensified. He puzzled over it for a moment, trying to come up with a word for it. Contentment, perhaps?
He didn’t recognize it.
But he liked it. Unlike the more intense emotions, this one caused him no pain. It just sort of was. Kind of a warm glow that suffused his entire being. It wasn’t a feeling, precisely, more like something that held the negative emotions at bay.
He stayed like that for a long time, listening to Remus breathe. It was comforting to have Remus next to him again. He didn’t quite understand why, but thinking about it brought back the little pang in his heart, so he decided to simply enjoy it.
Remus finally stirred about a half an hour later. Sirius realized from the angle of the sun coming in the windows that it was probably fairly late in the morning. After rubbing his face with one hand for a minute and mussing his hair, Remus opened his eyes. “Mornin’, Sirius . . .” he mumbled. “What time’s it?”
Sirius had to clear his throat a couple times before saying anything; he still wasn’t used to speaking. “I don’t know. Late morning. Maybe noon.”
“We should get up. Lots to do.” Remus sat up, pushing his hair absently out of his eyes.
Sirius took hold of Remus sleeve and tugged on it a little. “I . . . don’t want to get up yet.”
Remus blinked at him for a few minutes, then flopped down again. “Funny, it used to always be me that wanted to cuddle.”
Sirius snorted. “I do not cuddle.” Despite his words, he pulled Remus close to him, holding him tightly.
“Sure you don’t,” Remus replied, rolling his eyes.
They lay in silence for a while as Sirius ran his fingers gently through Remus’ hair.
“So what now?” he finally asked.
“Now?” Remus paused. “Now we move. Because hiding out in a dirty shack in the middle of nowhere isn’t conducive to recuperating.”
Sirius laughed a little. “But it’s conducive to not being sent back to Azkaban.”
“Trust me, I’m not going to let you get sent back to Azkaban.” Remus rolled over so he and Sirius were facing. “I was thinking small tropical island somewhere in the Caribbean . . . like a second honeymoon. Not many people . . . probably no wizards at all . . . we’ll go Muggle for a while. It’ll be an adventure.”
Sirius looked at him suspiciously.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Remus said, chuckling. “When you said ‘adventure’, it usually meant detention and a lecture from McGonagall. When James said ‘adventure’, we almost always got yelled at by Filch. When I said adventure, it usually meant an exciting night of studying.”
“Except for that one time that James and I got you drunk and you -- ”
“Shut up.” Remus put his hand over Sirius’ mouth. “Not another word from you.”
Sirius smirked.
“It’s good to see you smile again.” Remus took away his hand and kissed Sirius lightly. “I was beginning to worry that I never would.”
“Well, I don’t promise it often,” Sirius said with a sigh.
“Does it hurt?” Remus asked gently. “To think about the way things were?”
Sirius looked away. “Almost more than I can take,” he whispered, his voice cracking.
Remus didn’t reply, knowing there was nothing he could say that would help. Instead, he just leaned over and kissed Sirius on the forehead, lacing his fingers with the other man’s.
There was a long moment of silence.
“First thing to do,” Remus finally said, “when we’re done not cuddling, is to go into town and go shopping. If we’re going to disguise ourselves as Muggles, we might as well do it properly. We’ll need clothes, if nothing else.”
“Do you have money?” Sirius asked.
“I have some,” Remus said. “But I’ll need to get it exchanged . . . where’s the closest Gringotts, do you think?” He paused. “In fact, where the hell are we?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “And you say that I don’t think ahead. We’re in the Ardennes Forest.” He gave Remus’ blank look consideration. “France.”
“Oh, we’ll be all right, then,” Remus said. “There are Gringotts all over France. I’ll just pop out, get my money exchanged, get some clothes, and then we can be off.”
“How are we going to get there?” Sirius asked.
Remus thought of flying over another body of water and shuddered. “I strongly suggest we Apparate, unless you plan on hitch-hiking.”
“I was just a little worried that they may have managed to track people by Apparation,” Sirius said.
Remus frowned. “Good point. I don’t know whether or not they can do that. Muggles must have some way of traveling long distances, don’t they?”
Sirius paused. “Yes, they must.”
“Harry mentioned something called an airplane this year,” Remus said brightly. “I’ll ask about it while I’m in town.”
“All right.” Sirius yawned. “I suppose we should get up.”
“Most likely.” Remus sighed and finally got out of bed. “You should change, you know; I brought some robes for you. Those tattered ones can’t be comfortable.”
Sirius blinked at him, sitting up in bed. “You bought me new robes?”
Remus smiled, took them out of the suitcase, and handed them to Sirius. “You always used to buy things for me. I’m just returning a favor.”
Sirius said nothing, just staring at the robes.
“I’m going to make breakfast,” Remus said, and set about doing so. “Then I’m going to go into town.”
“Can I come?” Sirius asked.
Remus paused. “You really can’t, Sirius. I mean . . . you’ve been on the Muggle news and everything. Even if I didn’t go anywhere that there were wizards, you might be recognized.”
Sirius blinked. “Then how are we going to use Muggle transportation?”
Remus stopped. “Uhm . . . er . . . well, we’ll figure something out, won’t we?”
“You’re sure I can’t come?” Sirius asked. “I could transform.”
“I don’t think dogs are allowed in Muggle stores,” Remus said absently. Then he turned and cupped Sirius’ face in his hands. “Sirius. I’ll come back. I promise.”
Sirius looked at him for a long minute, then nodded. “I -- I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Remus hugged him. “It’s nice that you’re worried. But I said I’m not leaving you and I meant it. An afternoon of shopping is hardly something to have panic attacks over.”
“I know.” Sirius hid his face in Remus’ shoulder. “Remus, I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I just . . . didn’t know what to say.”
“It’s all right.” Remus’ arms tightened around him for a minute, then let go. “Now let’s have breakfast.”
****
“Well, that was just about the most embarrassing experience of my life.” Remus dropped several shopping bags on the floor of the shack.
Sirius looked up. “Why?”
“Because,” Remus said, “for some reason it didn’t occur to me that I don’t speak French.”
Sirius’ lips twitched.
“It’s okay, go ahead and laugh at me,” Remus said, with a long-suffering sigh. “At least the people in Gringotts spoke English and got me what I wanted, and I was able to perform a Speech charm on myself when no one was looking. I just felt extremely stupid in the first store. Because I couldn’t just not speak French, go outside for a few minutes, and suddenly be able to.”
Sirius snickered.
“However, I was able to get us some clothes,” Remus said. “And when I asked about an airplane, I got directions to the nearest airport. Which is apparently the place that the airplanes are. So we may as well be off . . .”
“Um, Remus?” Sirius suddenly said. “What are the odds we can take a hippogriff on a Muggle airplane?”
Remus stopped. “Uhh . . . whoops. Didn’t think of that.”
Sirius sighed. “Well, back to square one.”
“I suppose we really shouldn’t leave him here,” Remus said thoughtfully. “I don’t think France is really hippogriff territory.”
“They can fly quite long distances,” Sirius said.
Remus gave him a look. “If you fly across the ocean on Buckbeak, I am definitely Apparating and meeting you there.”
Sirius looked away. “Of course,” he said. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”
Remus hedged, noticing the way that Sirius wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “All right, I’ll make a deal with you,” he said. “Let’s Apparate across the ocean, to Florida, and then we can fly from there. If I hold onto Buckbeak, he’ll Apparate with me. It won’t be easy by any means, but I’m up for it. If they try to track you, they’ll just end up in America.”
Sirius nodded, looking relieved.
“We’ll have to be very careful about it, though,” Remus said thoughtfully. “Don’t want to Apparate in the middle of a busy Muggle street. Damn, I think we might need to see the coordinates book in Diagon Alley to pull this off.”
Sirius flinched. “How are we going to do that?”
“Well,” Remus said. “My suggestion is that we fly back to England on broomstick and hippogriff respectively. I’ll leave you and Buckbeak at the old house while I pop into London and find the coordinates. Pick up anything else I think we might need, too. It just makes today’s excursion unnecessary. Oh well . . . this is what happens when you and I attempt to plan.” He gave Sirius a large, cheerful grin.
Sirius smiled tentatively back.
****
Sirius sat down gingerly on the bed, which resulted in a cloud of dust coming off of it. He coughed. Remus had left him in the house, with Buckbeak tethered outside, while he’d gone to Diagon Alley. Sirius had spent the first half hour poking around, marveling at the fact that everything was exactly as he’d left it. Remus had never returned there after leaving for his last glimpse of Sirius; no one else had ever come by either. One of the walls was starting to cave in a little and the roof leaked. His clothes, all in an open suitcase on the bed, were moth-eaten and ruined.
It was good to be home.
Sirius sat for a long time on the dusty comforter that covered the bed he and Remus had once shared. The room was empty of trinkets and most other paraphernalia; Remus had taken all this with him. Well, not precisely taken it; someone else had probably brought it to him. But it was gone nonetheless.
We were so happy here, Sirius thought absently, his hands tracing patterns in the dust. Everything there was dusty, covered in a thick layer of it.
Dust was a lot easier to clean off furniture, Sirius reflected, than from people. And it was even harder to get it out from the cracks of relationships.
He couldn’t believe Remus would ever care for him again the way he once had.
Yet Remus said he did, and he trusted Remus. Not that he realized he trusted him, not that he technically still understood what trust was. But Remus had said things were a certain way, and he believed Remus without knowing why. That, he assumed, was trust.
He lay down on the bed, resting his head on the dust covered pillow. When he’d still been in school, he had taken Muggle Studies, and they had done a brief unit on Muggle law enforcement. The prisons they had sounded crude, but Sirius would have given his right arm to have been in one of those for the past twelve years rather than Azkaban.
The funny thing was, the teacher then had mentioned that most Muggles only ended up in prison for brief amounts of time, then they got out on something called ‘parole,’ which was their way of keeping an eye on them. Many parolees apparently ended up in prison again. Someone in the class had asked why that was.
The teacher, who obviously had a definite fascination with all psychology and Muggle psychology in particular, had said that some people were simply lawbreakers to the core, but others had more complicated reasons. He had mentioned that some parolees said they couldn’t stand being out of prison. The freedom frightened them.
Sirius had found the notion absolutely ridiculous. How could someone be afraid of freedom?
And now, here he was, curled up on a bed that hadn’t been slept in for thirteen years. Afraid to be free, afraid to love, afraid to be loved.
He looked up sharply as there was a thud from the main room. The sound of the door opening and closing. Sirius automatically transformed; it was far too early for Remus to be back yet. He padded out softly to the main room and saw Allister looking around with a wrinkled nose. “God, this place is a mess,” he muttered to no one, then turned to a bag he had brought.
Sirius stood in the doorway, frozen in indecision. If he retreated back into the bedroom, Allister would most likely hear him. So he simply stood there, hoping that Allister would think him to be a stray dog that had wandered in.
Allister glanced around the room, saw him, and blinked. “Oh, hello, Sirius,” he said offhandedly. “Care to transform? I haven’t seen you in quite a bit, you know.”
Sirius just stared at him.
Allister stared back. “Oh, for the love of -- Remus didn’t find you? He told me everything, you know, and he’ll probably be pretty put out that you’re hiding here and didn’t let him know. I mean, honestly, Sirius -- ”
Sirius had heard all he really needed to. He transformed back to human and flung his arms around his brother.
“Why didn’t you let him know?” Allister asked, taking this in stride and hugging him tightly.
“Oh, he’s here -- he found me -- ” Sirius tried to speak around the huge lump in his throat. “He must have just forgotten to mention that he’d told you what really happened.”
“So he found you all right?” Allister asked. “Good. Where is he?”
“Diagon Alley,” Sirius said, still hugging Allister. “He had to pick up some things before we left the country.”
Allister finally let Sirius go and walked over to the armchair. After wiping a serious quantity of dust off of it, he flopped down onto it. “You’re leaving, then?”
Sirius nodded. “Remus says I need a vacation.”
“Yeah, you look awful,” Allister said.
Sirius managed a smile. “Thanks, Allister.”
“Why didn’t you write him, Sirius?”
“Because . . . I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what he would say.” Sirius waved his hands vaguely. “I thought he hated me. And even if he could forgive me . . . I know things will never be the same.”
“No,” Allister said quietly. “Things won’t ever be the same. But that doesn’t mean they can’t be better than they are now. That doesn’t mean that you can never be happy again.”
“I don’t see how,” Sirius said, staring at the floor. “How could anyone ever love a wreck like me?”
Allister took a minute before replying. “Sirius, the last twelve years have been hell on both of you. Yes, you’re a wreck. But it honestly isn’t like Remus was doing much better. Part of the reason he got the job at Hogwarts was because Dumbledore was worried he was going to manage to starve himself to death. He never left his apartment. If I hadn’t visited, he wouldn’t have had any company at all. He had totally closed himself off from the world.”
“Why?” Sirius whispered.
“Because he was afraid of it, Sirius. The way you’re afraid of it now. He was afraid of being hurt more than he already was, and though I doubt he’ll ever admit this to anybody, he was afraid of being happy. Because in his mind, that would have meant he was betraying you.”
Sirius said nothing.
“See?” Allister asked quietly. “In a way, he knows what you’re going through right now. And he can help you get through it, because he started to. He was so much better once he was teaching . . . with other people again. And I think it helped that Harry was there.”
Sirius flinched. “He’s . . . so much like James,” he whispered.
Allister nodded, but said nothing.
“I don’t know what to do,” Sirius admitted. “I want to be with Remus again. I want it more than anything. But . . . I don’t know what to do.”
“Just trust him, Sirius,” Allister said. “It’ll come back to you. You’ll remember.”
Silence sat between them for a long minute.
“Allister?” Sirius asked softly. “Did you ever think I might be innocent?”
Allister sighed. “When I first heard the news, I thought there had to be some sort of misunderstanding. But . . . once everything had been explained to me . . . no. It never occurred to me. Because it was all piled against you, li’l bro. It looked like there was no way you could be innocent. And trust me, I know that, because Remus must have explored every damn loophole and gap in events that existed. No one wanted you to be innocent more than he did. But it didn’t work.”
“I know,” Sirius said with a heavy sigh. “I was just curious.”
More silence.
“Why are you here, anyway?” Sirius finally asked.
Allister shrugged. “I told Remus I’d come by, fix things up a bit. Hopefully, you two will be able to live here again in the not so distant future. Wouldn’t do you much good if all the furniture had been gnawed by mice and the roof was leaking and there was mildew everywhere.”
“True.” Sirius smiled a little. “But let me help. Remus won’t be back for a couple hours at least.”
“All right, but it won’t be fun,” Allister said with a smile.
“I know,” Sirius said. “But after twelve years in Azkaban and a year living in the Shrieking Shack, it’ll be nice to do something.”
****
Remus arrived home to find dinner waiting. “You just missed Allister,” Sirius informed him. “He had to go. Did you get everything you needed?”
“Yeah,” Remus said. “I saw Allister outside, actually. Let’s eat, then go.” He looked around the house. “You two did a pretty good job cleaning this up.”
Sirius smiled a little. “Allister said he’ll come back for the dusting and things like that once he knows when we’ll actually be back in the country.”
“So you two had a chance to talk?” Remus asked, sitting down. “I’m glad.”
“I’m glad too,” Sirius said. “I . . . missed him. Almost as much as I missed you.”
Remus said nothing to that, merely reached out and gently touched Sirius’ cheek.
The two of them ate hastily and gathered their things.
“Oh, before I forget,” Remus said, and dug into his robes. “I bought this for you in Diagon Alley.” He pulled out a wand and handed it over.
Sirius accepted it and looked at it uncertainly.
“It’s ash wood and dragon heartstring, just like your last one,” Remus said. “Of course, it won’t be a perfect fit, since it’s the wand that chooses the wizard. And it won’t be a great wand, because I had to go to a secondhand store.” He chuckled. “Imagine me walking into Ollivander’s and asking for an ash and dragon wand.”
Sirius shuddered. “He always gave me the creeps.”
“Yes, but he remembers every wand he’s ever sold. And if I’d asked him for that, he would have known it was for you. Bad idea, in general. Most people are nowhere near that intelligent. Thirteen inches, by the way.”
Sirius gave it a swish, sending sparks out the other end. “At least I still have my magic.”
“It’s probably sort of rusty,” Remus said. “Are you sure you’re up to Apparating such a long distance? You could splinch yourself, and for you, that would be very, very bad.”
“Hmm . . . do you know how to reverse a splinching?” Sirius asked.
“I’ve never done it, but I know how to,” Remus replied.
“Then I’ll go first, and if I splinch myself, you can just fix me up and we’ll pick a different method of travel.”
“All right,” Remus agreed. “Let’s go outside and get Buckbeak.”
“And you’re sure you can Apparate with a hippogriff?” Sirius asked skeptically.
“Well, really it’s no different than Apparating while holding a suitcase,” Remus said. Catching Sirius’ look, he added lamely, “A very, very large suitcase.”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “If you say it can be done, I believe you.”
“Oh, one last thing,” Remus said, and pulled a flask from his pocket. He added something into the top, and it fizzed and turned black. “Drink this.”
“What is it?” Sirius asked, eyeing it suspiciously.
“Polyjuice Potion,” Remus said. “I bought it premade in London. Allister was kind enough to give me one of his hairs when I ran into him outside.”
“Ah. Okay.” Sirius took a swig of the potion and promptly changed into Allister. Remus reflected absently that twelve years ago, there wouldn’t have been that much change. Sirius would have grown a few inches, got a somewhat narrower face and smaller eyes, and that would have been it. Now his cheeks filled out and his entire frame widened a little, allowing for Allister’s extra girth. Allister was by no means overweight, but he was a solidly built person, as Sirius had been before Azkaban. Fortunately, the robes Sirius was wearing were rather loose.
“That’s better,” Remus said with a nod. “Since it’s just Muggles we have to fool, and we probably won’t even see any of those, that’ll do. And once we’re at the island, I doubt it’ll matter. Polaris will meet us there, right?”
“Of course,” Sirius said with a small smile. Then he blinked. “I have Allister’s voice.”
“Naturally,” Remus said. “Now, outside. Let’s be off.”
****
Part Ten
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