Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

December 1985  

Sirius checks the Marseille street sign and frowns. He silently questions again whether he is doing the right thing coming to see Remus.

He sighs a little under his breath. If he and Remus are to fully mend their relationship they need to have a conversation about Harry, but Sirius doesn’t know if he’s ready to trust Remus with the truth.

He’s been debating with himself ever since the previous year when Remus’ invitation for Sirius to stay with him for Christmas in Marseilles, in lieu of Remus visiting his parents, had prompted the dilemma. Remus had thought his father had told him to stay away given his mother’s dementia, hence Remus reaching out to Sirius. In the end, it had turned out to be a misunderstanding, and Remus’ following letter had apologetically retracted the invitation. Sirius feels a touch ashamed about how relieved he had been because it had deferred the necessary conversation he’d needed to have with Remus for another time.

And now, Sirius muses unhappily, that nebulous ‘another time’ has arrived.

When Remus had sent another invitation for Sirius to visit, for them to reconnect in person for Halloween and the awful anniversary of losing James and Lily, Sirius had put him off again with a vague excuse. But then his grandfather had decided to gift Sirius’ cousin Andi with the beach villa in Marseilles for Christmas, and his grandmother had asked Sirius to visit and oversee the deed transfer in France. It had felt like the universe was telling him to man up and visit his friend; to decide once and for all whether to trust Remus and fully mend their relationship or to let it slowly fade.

Sirius half-suspects that it isn’t the universe deciding it is time, but rather his grandmother.

His grandfather has been ill, Sirius remonstrates with himself briskly. Arcturus Black had suffered a rare strain of dragon influenza back in November after visiting Grimmauld Place in the wake of Walburga’s death. Sirius had been gifted with a flash of vision about it and his grandmother had gotten her husband to Saint Mungo’s in time for the treatment to counter the more dangerous side effects. It worries Sirius how close they’d come to losing the old coot, not least because he has no desire to step up into his grandfather’s shoes and assume the mantle of Lord Black. Walburga had died from an attack of the ‘flu, but Sirius cannot bring himself to mourn his mother. He just feels a profound sense of relief that she’s gone.    

Sirius walks up the narrow street and finds Remus’ apartment building. He stops looking up at the three-storey rickety building, almost glowing with magical protections. He takes another deep breath, nerves stampeding through him again.

He wishes he was at home in the quiet bungalow he shares with Harry.

Sirius hates being away from his godson, his son. Harry might call him Padfoot instead of Daddy, but there is no doubt in Sirius’ mind that he is Harry’s father nor that he considers Harry as his own child.

It is only the second time that he has been away from Harry since he’d found him as a toddler left with Lily’s sister, Petunia. The first time had been a year before, and he’d barely made it through the two days he’d been gone to check on a Black property in the States after his grandfather had thought he’d felt a ward alarm but couldn’t get away from the Wizengamot to check. Sirius has been more prepared this time for the crippling worry that grips him at odd times when he realises Harry isn’t with him. Sirius knows his separation anxiety is rooted back in the awful time between when he’d handed Harry to Hagrid believing that Dumbledore would see Harry to Alice, his godmother, and finding Harry eventually weeks later where Dumbledore had actually left him.

Sirius’ reluctance to talk with Remus is also rooted in those awful days. Remus had abandoned their friendship after the funeral, despite Sirius writing to him occasionally. The distrust which had grown between them during the war had all but destroyed their former bond. Since reconciling, they’ve come to realise that some of that distrust was sown by Dumbledore knowingly in keeping secrets; some in Dumbledore’s dislike of Sirius because he is a Black. They’ve talked about it in their letters.

But Remus’ acknowledgement of Dumbledore’s part hasn’t been enough to convince Sirius that Remus won’t run straight to the old wizard when he realises that Sirius is raising Harry. As far as Sirius knows Remus is still Dumbledore’s man. He knows from Minerva that Dumbledore has told her openly that he asked Remus about Sirius after hearing that Sirius had visited his grandfather in hospital.

He has to definitively determine whether he can tell Remus about Harry, Sirius tells himself again. If he can’t, then he knows that it would be best to let their friendship go. It is bad enough that he hasn’t tackled the conversation in the two years they’ve been writing to each other. He has no doubt that Remus will be angry that Sirius has kept Harry a secret from him when he learns the truth. 

If, Sirius corrects in his head, if he tells Remus the truth.

He takes a deep breath and steps up to the apartment door. He presses the buzzer for Remus’ apartment and is not surprised when the door swings open granting him entry. He is expected.

Remus lives on the top floor in the attic of the old building. The stairs are steep and narrow. Sirius takes his time, procrastinating further, but it isn’t long before he’s standing on the top landing, the door of Remus’ apartment in front of him.

Sirius takes another deep breath. This is it. He raps on the door.

There’s the sound of footsteps beyond the wooded barrier before it opens.

For a long moment, Sirius simply looks at Remus.

His friend looks older. Remus’ curly brown hair is turning grey at the temples despite them both barely being in their late twenties. There are new thin silvery scars at the edge of his face and down his freckled neck. His hazel eyes are warm though, lacking the remonstration and hardness that Sirius remembers from the funeral they’d attended four years before when they had last seen each other.

Sirius wonders what Remus sees as he notes the quick gaze that looks him over. Does he see how Sirius has matured? He resists the urge to stroke at the trim beard he’s grown; to check his hair is gathered neatly back in the low bun he usually wears.

They’re both wearing muggle clothing, Sirius realises.

Remus’ button-up shirt is a terrible olive green and slightly out of fashion with its long collar tips. It’s clean and in good shape though, Sirius notes, as are the brown tweed trousers. It’s not a colour combination that Sirius would ever wear but somehow it suits Remus.

Earthy and grounded, Sirius thinks. He feels a little underdressed in his casual gear of jeans, an old long-sleeved Henley under a Live Aid t-shirt, and his favourite peacoat jacket.

“Padfoot,” Remus greets him quietly, but there is a wealth of affection in his tone that makes Sirius remember the best of their friendship.

“Moony,” Sirius manages to choke out.

And suddenly Remus is hugging him.

Sirius tentatively leans into the embrace and brings his own arms up to hug Remus back.

They part after a few minutes.

Sirius isn’t surprised that they’re both a little damp around the eyes. He surreptitiously and wandlessly dries his as Remus ushers him through the door and into the small flat. He uses the moment when he’s shrugging off his jacket and handing it to Moony to take a look around.

It is hardly more than a glorified attic room, but Remus has made it cosy. The kitchenette is off to the left side with a single counter, most of which is taken up by the small stove and oven, and a sink. The debris of cooking is strewn across the workspace and a pot is bubbling on a burner with something meaty stewing.

There is a tiny table on the left wall with two uncomfortable looking wooden chairs. Sirius can see that it has been set ready for a meal for two.

On the far wall there is a sofa which Sirius guesses pulls-out into the bed. There is a low coffee table in front of it on top of a truly horrendous mustardy yellow rug. To the far right there is a door. Sirius guesses that it leads to a bathroom.

“Come in and sit,” Remus says, urging him towards the sofa. “I have rabbit stew. It’s almost done.”

Sirius sits. “You didn’t have to cook.”

“Well, I figured if you’d already eaten, it wouldn’t be wasted as I’ll eat it for the rest of the week, but if you hadn’t,” Remus shrugs, “it would be nice to share a meal with you.” He freezes a touch. “Uh, have you eaten?”

“No,” confirms Sirius.

The stew does smell delicious, but…

“Perhaps we should talk first,” Sirius continues, clasping his hands together.

Remus nods. “Wine?”

Sirius answers with a nod of his own. He watches as Remus bustles back across the room and picks up an open bottle of red wine sitting breathing to the side. He pours it into two glasses and carries them back, handing one to Sirius.

The wine smells of blackberry with a hint of citrus.

Sirius sips and hums. Like most French wines, it is fruity and deep. He takes a bigger sip, enjoying the taste of it. “This is good.”

“You needn’t sound so surprised,” Remus says teasingly.

Sirius simply arches an eyebrow and looks at him because it had been a running joke in the Marauders that Remus had the poorest taste in alcohol.

“Fine,” Remus drags a chair over and sits close but not too close to the sofa. “Professor Gaston recommended it.”

“You seem happy at the University,” Sirius comments. “Your last letter said you’re providing research support to most of the department now?”

“Yes,” Remus takes a gulp of his own wine, “I enjoy it.” He tilts his head. “What about you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t exactly said what you do for work these days.”

Sirius hums, seeing the opening. “Well, that depends, Moony,” he says calmly, even though his heart is pounding. “Are you going to tell Dumbledore if I tell you?”

Remus stills, unnaturally so, before his breath leaves his body in a whoosh as he almost collapses forward, hunching over briefly. He rallies and straightens. He meets Sirius’ silver gaze with a direct look.

“I can understand why you might think that, Sirius,” Remus replies softly. “I haven’t given you much reason to think otherwise, have I?”

“I know you refused to tell him anything when he asked you about my visit to my grandfather in Saint Mungo’s,” Sirius replies.

Remus blinks at him before pointing a long finger at him. “Minerva.”

“He went complaining to her,” Sirius says simply. It had been one of the other reasons why he’d concluded that it was probably time for him to talk with Remus.

Remus snorts. “Of course he did!” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Padfoot. I know I put too much trust in Dumbledore during the war and afterwards.”

Sirius weighs what he says next. He sighs. “I know I hurt our relationship when I told Snape how to get past the Willow.”

Remus grimaces, but he doesn’t argue with Sirius.

“It was a foolish, reckless thing to do,” Sirius admits around the lump in his throat, “even if I thought Snape would never do it.”

“You apologised, Padfoot,” Remus says quickly. “I forgave you.”

“Did you?” asks Sirius grimly. “Because I think it played its part in how willing you were to listen to Dumbledore’s view of me as untrustworthy.”

“You believed I might have been the spy too, Pads,” Remus says softly.

“I thought it was too dangerous to trust you when you were cosying up to the packs,” Sirius agrees bluntly. “You were convincing in your ruse, Remus. I thought we were going to lose you to them, to the other side.” He held Remus’ gaze. “James still trusted you. If you’d been in England, he would have made you the Secret Keeper no matter our doubts.”

For a second, Sirius sees Moony behind Remus’ eyes; the wolf acknowledging that his Alpha had trusted him.

“I know now that Albus never told you the truth that it was all an act,” Remus states. “I realise that led to distrust rather than just distaste for my being a werewolf like I thought. I realise that his comments about you helped to make me suspect you of being the spy before…before James and Lily died.”

Sirius takes another deep breath. “You’ve always looked up to Dumbledore, Remus. I want to trust that if I tell you my secrets you won’t say anything to him, but…it’s not just me I have to think about these days.”

Remus regards him with a considering look. He slowly nods. “I felt like I owed him for my education at Hogwarts.” He holds up a hand when Sirius shifts to begin the counterargument. “I know that’s a false debt. He’s a Headmaster. He has a duty to educate wizarding children. I know that.” He took a gulp of wine. “I also know that I’m the only werewolf child he’s invited to Hogwarts. Maybe he’d argue that the experiment of me failed, but…” he shrugs. “I suspect that he invited me with the purpose of having a pawn to use on the chessboard he has in his head.”

Sirius is surprised at Remus’ dry recitation. His old friend sounds measured and sober in his analysis.

“I’ve had some time to think about it these past couple of years,” Remus says as though he’s seen Sirius’ surprise.

He probably has, Sirius muses.

“It’s helped that every time he’s asked me to visit, or when he’s written in the past few years, it’s only to ask me about you,” Remus notes dryly. “It’s rather hard to ignore being a pawn when you’re so deliberately being used to block in the knight.”

“Knight?!” Sirius blurts out.

“Well, you’re hardly a bishop, Pads,” Remus points out. “You’re lucky I was the one finding you in broom closets most of the time.”

Sirius huffs. He’d done a lot of experimenting at school. And absolutely nothing since taking on the guardianship of Harry, he thinks with regretful amusement.

He pulls his mind back to the task at hand. He can’t deny that Remus sounds sincere. He takes a sip of the very nice wine and sets it down.

“I’ve been keeping a lot from you, Remus,” he admits.

Remus nods. “I know.”

They both look at each other for a long moment, recognising the truth that their relationship is mended, but the glue is still settling into the cracks.

“I abandoned you after James and Lily died,” Remus says softly. “I felt justified at the time, and my wolf was in agreement. We felt like you’d betrayed me in choosing Peter to act as the Secret Keeper, and so unfairly blamed you for their deaths of our friends.”

Sirius takes that blow with a wince.

“I can see now that you had reasons for suspecting me,” Remus adds, “and I know you’re not at fault for James and Lily dying, Padfoot. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is the one at fault for their deaths, Peter is at fault. Not you.”

Sirius shifts position on the sofa, unwilling to hear the words of benediction. He still blames himself for recommending Peter be the Secret Keeper. He should have taken the task on himself instead of suggesting a bluff in the first place. He doubts that he’ll ever forgive himself.

“I can understand you keeping confidences,” Remus continues. “I’m just hoping some day you’ll be able to find it in you to trust me with them again.”

Sirius takes a breath and plunges ahead. “Would you take an Unbreakable Vow with me never to share something I have deemed a secret with Albus Dumbledore or knowingly with his allies in an attempt to circumvent the Vow?”  

Remus’ eyes widen a touch. “If that’s what it will take.”

Sirius hums. He knows he has to make a decision. He closes his eyes briefly. He remembers how James had spoken up for Remus the last time they’d spoken. James had never stopped believing in Remus. He would have entrusted Harry’s safety in their werewolf friend.

Sirius opens his eyes and meets Remus’ cautious gaze. “I won’t ask you to take a Vow, Remus, but if you…if you betray me to Dumbledore, you’ll pay in ways you cannot imagine.”

Remus nods slowly.

Sirius summons the communication mirror from the inside pocket of his jacket. It sails easily across the room.

Remus’ expression melts with delight and astonishment. “You still have our mirrors?”

“This is a new set,” Sirius explains gruffly. He waved at Remus to join him on the sofa.

Remus moved across and sat next to him cautiously.

Sirius lifts the mirror so they can both clearly see the glass. “Andromeda Tonks.”

The glassy surface of the mirror swirls into fog before it disappears leaving the beautiful visage of his cousin.

“Andi,” Sirius says warmly. “Remus agreed to the Vow.”

He doesn’t need to be watching to know that Remus darts a speculative look in his direction since they both know Remus has agreed but they haven’t actually made any kind of promise.

Andi’s gaze slides to Sirius’ left where Remus is sitting. “Hello, Remus.”

“Andromeda,” Remus clears his throat. “It’s good to see you again.”

Andi nods regally, reminding Sirius sharply of his grandmother. She looks back at Sirius. “Are you sure?”

Sirius nods. “I assume he’s still up?”

“You’re an hour ahead,” Andi points out bluntly. “He’s just finished tea. Give me a moment.” She disappears from view.

Remus shifts subtly. “Uh, Sirius, what is…”

Harry dives into frame. “Padfoot!”

Remus freezes at the sight of him.

Sirius wonders how much of James and Lily Remus sees in their son. Harry has his father’s hair, his mother’s eyes, and an irrepressible kindness of spirit which is all his own.

“Prongslet!” Sirius responds brightly, focusing on his son. “How was school?”

Harry grins. “I got a gold star on my spelling test!”

“That’s my boy!” Sirius crows.

Harry’s gaze darts to the side of Sirius as he notices Remus.

Sirius smiles. “This is my friend, Remus, Harry. Remus, this is my son, Harry.”

Harry gives a small wave of hello.

Remus makes a choked sound, but he manages a tremulous smile. “It’s very good to see you again, Harry.”

“Moony last saw you when you were a baby,” Sirius confides in a loud whisper, waggling his eyebrows at Harry.

Harry’s green eyes blink and he stares at Remus. “He’s Moony?!”

Sirius nods. He’s told Harry stories about the Marauders, usually omitting or keeping Peter’s role small in the retelling. Harry’s always been curious about Moony.

“You used to call him Moo-moo,” Sirius remembers fondly.

Remus clears his throat. “You look very well, Harry, and congratulations on your gold star!”

Harry beams at him. “Duds also got gold which was awesome because Auntie Petunia gave us both a slice of cake as a reward! She said Lilli’s too young yet to have cake.”

Sirius smiles at the mention of Harry’s latest cousin. Lillian Rose Dursley is an apple-cheeked adorable poppet. Sirius had been incredibly touched when he’d been asked to be her godfather, and Andi is thrilled to be Lillian’s godmother.  

Harry leans so far forward his face fills the whole mirror. “Did you really turn Padfoot’s hair green, Uncle Moony?”

“Once or twice,” Remus’ voice is rich with nostalgia.

Harry leans forward again, nose almost pressed up against the glass. “Could you show me how to do it?”

“Hey, hey,” Sirius says lightly, “no ganging up on me!”

Harry giggles and lurches back from the mirror. He looks at Sirius. “I’m glad you found Moony, Padfoot.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Sirius says solemnly.

Andi slides back into view. “Time for a bath and then bed, Harry. Say goodnight to Padfoot.”

Harry smile dims a bit. “I miss you, Padfoot.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow,” Sirius promises, missing Harry all the more for the sweet sentiment of knowing he’s missed in turn. “Be good for Auntie Andi.”

Harry nods. He waves both his hands. “’Night, Padfoot! ‘Night, Uncle Moony!” He darts away from their view.

Andis gaze clearly follows Harry for a moment before she looks back into the mirror. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Sirius. Nice to see you again, Remus.” She reaches forward and…the mirror swirls settling back into its usual polished glass.

Sirius sets the mirror down on the coffee table and picks up his wine. He takes a large gulp.

Remus picks up his own wine and downs it. He points shakily at Sirius. “You…you’re raising Harry? I thought Albus placed him with Petunia?”

“Yes,” Sirius watches him carefully. “He did. Petunia is his muggle guardian and very much a part of his life, but we agreed a long time ago that I would be the one to raise him in line with the wishes of James and Lily.” He waits a beat. “Dumbledore thinks he’s still with Petunia.”  

Remus gapes at him.

Sirius looks back at Remus evenly. He hopes…he hopes…

Remus stills and takes a breath. He takes another, frowning, his mouth turning down briefly. He shakes his head. “Albus has spent the last four years telling me that I can’t be a part of Harry’s life because he’s happy with Petunia; that he promised her little disturbance from wizards; that there are protections which mean my werewolf won’t be able to visit him anyway!” He throws up his arms. “It was all a lie! He has no idea at all, does he?!”

Sirius coughs. “Well, Minerva ostensibly checks on Harry for Dumbledore once a year and reports back all is well so…” he shrugs, a smirk playing about his lips.

“Minerva…” Remus croaks. His amber eyes turn thoughtful. “What exactly happened, Padfoot? What did he do?”

Sirius tells him. It’s difficult to talk about the dark days after losing James and Lily, but he describes Dumbledore’s actions succinctly enough; how he’d taken Harry to Petunia and not Alice; how he’d left Harry on the doorstep; the lack of compliance with Lily’s formal Will; how Sirius’ grandmother had encouraged him to seek out Harry and how he’d found him; how Sirius had struck an agreement with Petunia and has been living round the corner under the wards ever since.

Remus is quiet in the aftermath.

Sirius picks up his wine and hopes he’d made the right decision.

“You know I thought your big secret was you reconciling with your family,” Remus says almost conversationally.

“Well, that too,” Sirius concedes.

Remus concedes that point by raising his almost empty glass. “Dumbledore would be horrified,” he comments, his gaze stuck to the red liquid swirling in the bottom of the glass. “Harry Potter being raised by you with the full backing of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.”

“Are you horrified?” asks Sirius bluntly.

Remus’ gaze shoots up to meet his. “No!” He pauses. “Well, yes, but not about you and Harry, or even your family.” He waves a hand at him. “Harry’s clearly happy and healthy. You’re doing a good job.”

Something loosens in Sirius’ gut at Remus’ easy words of praise.

“I’m horrified at why you’re having to do it all,” Remus says bluntly. “Dumbledore had no right to ignore Lily’s Will. As you say, maybe there was enough of a concern that first night to place Harry with Petunia temporarily, but he had no right to deny Alice or you your rights as Harry’s proper legal guardians. I thought Lily had been the one to say it was Petunia! I mean, yes, weird given the state of their relationship but I thought it might be a muggle thing.” He takes another large gulp of wine. “And, who leaves a toddler on a doorstep!”

Sirius arches an eyebrow. “So, you’re not going to run off and tell him.”

Remus shoots him a disgruntled look. “If you need me to do the Vow, I’ll do the Vow.”

“No,” Sirius says slowly, warmth at Remus’ outrage at Dumbledore’s machinations settling into his gut. “No, I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”

“But I understand why you might have thought it was,” Remus says softly. “I’ve been very loyal to Dumbledore in the past.”

“So was I,” Sirius says. “Even when I thought he disliked me, I was loyal to him. James was loyal to him. We all were.”

“Perhaps to our detriment,” Remus says quietly. “In the end, Lily ended the war with Voldemort, not Dumbledore.”

“Or maybe he played chess with everyone and got the result he wanted,” Sirius counters. “Maybe he’s still playing chess. I get the sense that he has plans for Harry.” He pauses. “Voldemort isn’t completely gone, Remus. There was a…a kind of soul leech on Harry. He likely made more.”

Remus grimaces and meets his eyes again. There’s a gleam in the hazel depths that Sirius hasn’t seen for a while.  “Then, maybe it’s time we changed the board on Dumbledore.”

“And exactly, what did you have in mind, Moony?” asks Sirius taken aback a little, but warmed by Remus’ support.

“He thinks I’m on his side,” Remus says. “Maybe we use that.”

Sirius starts smiling. The wicked expression Remus wears reminds Sirius of why Remus had been the best at prank planning at Hogwarts. “Why, Moony, are you suggesting being our spy in the camp?”

“I solemnly swear…” Remus raises his glass.

“That I am up to no good,” Sirius completes, clinking his glass against Remus.’

It’s not a Vow, Sirius thinks as Remus drags him over to the table for food and they start planning, but it is a Marauder’s promise, and maybe Sirius is a fool, but he believes it more because of that. Because the Marauders may have been betrayed by Peter and lost James, but they are back together at last.

fin.

Next story: A Promise of Healing

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