StarFall, Moonset

Disclaimer: Don’t own them, if I did I wouldn’t be a
poor college student.

 

Starfall, Moonset

By:
Irish

Chapter Three: Screaming
Infidelities

 

 

 

When Sirius awoke the next morning, he found
himself oblivious of the time. It was not an all-together unfamiliar sensation,
as his years in Azkaban, as well as his time on the run, had been out side of
time. He was, on the other hand, acutely aware of the gentle caress of soft
cotton sheets over his naked skin, the sensation was second, only to the hot
bath he had soaked in last night, in luxury. He stretched slowly, his bones
creaking in protest. Oh yes he could lie here all day, it was so wonderful.



He turned over on his side, finally opening his
eyes to have a look around. The bed itself was fairly high; it seemed an
heirloom or antique. The headboard was intricately etched and each of the four
posts was perfectly carved. The walls were painted a soothing blue-grey, but
what drew Sirius’s attention the most were the pictures. They were all in black
metal frames that kept the walls from looking cluttered, with their crisp
lines. The pictures were in both blank
and white and colour, muggle and wizard, there were even some hand drawn
pictures.



Sirius crossed his arms under his head,
watching the various photos. He saw ones of Remus and himself before James and
Lillie had been killed, a happy couple, so in love. Pictures of all the
marauders, spanning all of their seven years at Hogwarts. Pictures from Lilly
and James’s wedding, Harry’s christening, Remus’s siblings and extended family,
nieces, nephew cousins, old family pets. It seemed as though almost every
person who had ever passed through Remus’s life was represented on these walls.
Dozens of the Marauders, dozens of Lilly and James, Of Remus and himself, just
as many of Harry, Ron and Hermonine. In the midst of all these moving and still
shots were photos of landscapes, sunsets and a hundred other artistic shots.
The sheer number of pictures was almost mind boggling, but the even lines of
the frames and the cool gencolocolour of the walls kept it from being
overwhelming.



From where he lay in the bed Sirius could see
the bedroom door in the middle of the wall, and a series of bookcases in one
corner. In front of the bookcases was a large circular rag rug with a very
comfortable overstuffed chair on it. This room, Sirius realized was Remus’s
sanctuary. The house itself was a haven from the horror and pain of his life
and past, but this room, this room was sacred ground, ever thing in the room
was something that made Remus feel good. Pictures of all those who meant
something to him, the soft sheets, the old quilt that Remus had had even in
their first year at Hogwarts, the smooth grained bookshelves that Sirius would
bet would be lined with his favourite books.



Sirius almost felt like a defiler in this
place. He knew that the emotion he was triggering in Remus had to be anything
but pleasant, but here he was asleep on the pew of his sanctuary, like a bum
fallen asleep waiting for mass. The luxury and security of the moment now
shattered for him, he slipped from the bed barely stifling a groan as every
muscle protested at once and he almost wound up on the floor. Steadying himself
with a firm hand on the bedpost he straightened until he was standing and
wondered if Remus would let him use his bath for a second time in less then ten
hours. He hobbled carefully over to the closet near the bed and dug through the
various robes, slacks, and shirts hanging there. It surprised him when his hand
fell on familiar cloth, and as he looked more closely realized that many of the
clothes that hung there were his, resting just beside Remus's just as they had
twelve years ago.



Throat suddenly aching, Sirius snatched down
the first robe of his own that his hands came across, as well as a belt that he
knew he would need. Pacing back over to the dresser he tore out a pair of old
faded muggle jeans that were his, as well as a equally loved T shirt. If the
man had had enough emotion left in him he would have been in a fit of fury.
Remus had kept his things. How could he have done that, the pain it must have
caused him opening the closet and dresser every day to reminders of Sirius’s
infidelity*. It was like being witness to self
inflicted masochism. Sirius jerked on the jeans, that he remembered had once
fit him snugly in all the right place, and now, they fit in a loose, relaxed
sort of way. The T-shirt was out right baggy on him, but he ignored that as he
strapped on his belt notching it as tight as it would go and sg heg he would
have to add another notch for it to keep his pants well in place. Throwing on
his black wizards robe over it all he stormed barefoot out into the living
room, intent on reading Remus the riot act for keeping his things, not because
he was upset Remus had them, but because it bothered him to think that as many
times as Remus had probably moved in those twelve years he had always
diligently packed and unpacked Sirius’s things, like Sirius was just out of
town for a couple weeks.



He stopped cold hand raised mid-gesticulation,
mouth half open. Remus was fast asleep, sprawled on the couch like a child too
stubborn to go to bed but to tired to stay awake. One bare foot was propped up
on the arm of the couch, the other crossed underneath. One hand dangled,
fingers grazing the floor, his mouth hung widen aen and there was a slight
trail of drool at the corner of his mouth. His tawny hair was mused and stuck
up at odd angles around his face, sunlight filtering in through the window
caught the light sprinkling of hair on his chest… he was gorgeous… and
incredibly dorky, all at the same time. Sirius sighed, his thunder stolen.
These last twelve years hadn’t only been hard on him. Remus had suffered in his
own way.



With a self-disgusted shake of his head Sirius
padded over to the kitchen looking over the variety of muggle appliances that
filled the area. He poked and prodded various mechanical objects muttering
under his breath.



“How the hell does a guy get a cup of coffee in
this place?” Sirius grumbled, laying
eyes on some contraption labelled ‘Mr. Coffee’ in little black letters. He
frowned and poked at it. “Coffee.” He commanded it. When nothing happened he
leaned in more closely and pulled out the glass pot. Holding it at arms length
he tried again. “Coffee, please.” Still nothing. He sighed and tried to recall
what he knew about muggle devices from when Lilly Potter had still been alive.
Finding the black cord he followed it to where it to the little plate in the
wall where it plugged in. Nodding to himself Sirius then looked for a switch
labled ‘on/off’. It took twenty minutes of fumbling, but soon the odd little
muggle appliance was sputtering out coffee into the glass pot.



“You should have started with the toaster.”



Sirius whirled around reaching for a wand that
wasn’t there, and hadn’t been there in twelve years.



“Relax Siri, it’s just me.” Remus offered a
weary half smile.

 

“Yeah well, you shouldn’t sneak up on a bloke
like that, if I had had my wand…”



“If you had your wand I probably wouldn’t
have.” Remus shrugged tucking his own wand in his back pocket. “Did you sleep
well?"



“You should have woke me, I didn’t need you to
be my nanny.”



“Your back hurt?” Remus queried raising his
eyebrows as he sauntered over the fridge.



“What? Why?”



“Because that is an awful big chip you’ve got
on your shoulder. Listen, I know you’ve got problems and this whole ‘us’ thing
is really an issue for you, but must you really be an arse in basic every day
conversation? We have been friends since we were old enough to spell the word,
I would think you could manage to afford me a little civility for Lilly and
James if for no other reason.” Remus had been rummaging through the icebox as
he spoke, as he finished his diatribe he hopped up onto the counter so his feet
dangled as he pulled the lid off a yoghurt cup.



Sirius stared at his long time friend a moment,
for one, the man was, to Sirius, unworldly attractive. For second he had
remembered Remus as a rather timid lad, even after they had graduated from
Hogwarts, Remus rarely spoke his mind, and when he did it was never as blunt of
flippant as that.



“Since when do you talk like that?"



“Talk like what?” The tawny haired man was
toying absently with his yoghurt.



“Like a cynical bastard who doesn’t have any
friends because he is too busy being a cynical bastard to care.” Sirius scowled
as he poured the freshly made coffee into a mug and adding a good bit more
sugar to it then could have possibly been healthy, then set the coffee to
stirring itself as be paced.



“I am a cynical bastard who doesn’t have any
friends.” Remus replied with a shrug, licking the yoghurt off the foil lid
me
mean as you can see its not like I have owls beating down my door with
invitations to tea.”

“Wel“Well fine. But you do care. Not that I care if
you care, but I can see that you do. And you never used to by cynical…. And the
bastard part was just for good measure.” Sirius picked up his mug and was
promptly conked on the nose by the handle of the spoon as it continued to whirl
away. “Oy! Stop that!” spo spoon stopped and Sirius removed it before taking a
sip of the coffee flavoured sugar.



“I hadn’t taken it to heart. I’m well aware I’m
not a bastard, with or without your reassurance. And you are right I never was
cynical, but that was twelve years ago. Its not like I've just been hanging
around in stasis waiting for you to come back. Further more, I strong dislike
the painful formality and defensiveness of this conversation as a whole. I feel
like I’m duelling, not eating breakfast. I suppose this is why divorce rarely
ends well.” Remus mused.



‘We cant be divorced, we were never married.”



“Oh yes, excuse me, we only lived together,
bought furniture together, picked out curtains together, snogged each other
senseless, and were in love.”



“Were.” Sirius gave Remus a hard look that he
did not feel. Damn it, he would not fall back into this mans arms. He would
not. Remus should have stood by him, no matter what the evidence said. Real
friends, lovers, trusted each other! Sirius wasn’t even aware of himself
turning a blind eye to the doubts that he had reciprocated in his partner.



Remus set down his yoghurt with deceptive calm,
positioning it carefully on the counter and making sure his spoon was at just
the right angle before looking over to Sirius. “You have made it abundantly
clear we are through. I told you last night, I still love you, and I always
will love you, I’m sorry if that doesn’t fit into the plan right now, but
that’s how I feel. I’m keeping up my end of the bargain and not trying to touch
you, or do anything to imply we are anything other then civil acquaintances,
will you at least please stop rubbing my face in the fact that I have lost you,
again.”



Padfoot was silent a
long moment looking down at his bare feet on the hardwood floor, his
translucent skin in stark contrast to the finished hardwood. “You’re right. I’m
sorry Remus.”



Remus could only nod as he picked up his
breakfast and commenced stirring it, his heart blocking his ability to swallow
or breath correctly, his vision fast becoming veiled with tears. If Remus had
still believed in a loving and involved deity he would have been screaming at
it until his throat bled, but he had long ago learned that he could rage and
rage all he liked, but that he would cause less change then the sea against the
shore, and almost as quickly. He closed his eyes as he slid from the counter,
tossing his spoon into the sink, and his remaining yoghurt into the trash
before brushing past his once-mate, and walking out the front door.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~



 



“Moony….” Remus stood
in his own front garden, shoulders hunched, fists balled at his sides as he
tried to swallow his pain. Why had stupid, stubborn Sirius insisted in
following him?



“You know for a guy
who professes not to care, you seem to be real interested in how I’m feeling
and what I’m doing.” Remus snapped, wrapping his arms around himself as he
stared at the white lilies growing in his garden.


“No matter how much I don’t care, I wouldn’t leave anyone to just wallow in
their own personal misery like this.” Sirius replied keeping his anceance. He
had been ready to apologize, but Remus’s sharp reply had him wanting a good
fight.



‘I’m wallowing? What
the hell Sirius! Just because you are completely devoid of emotion doesn’t mean
the rest of us are. Forgive me for having the nerve to be hurt over all this.
You know who is wallowing Sirius! Its you! You are wallowing. Poor Sirius, had
to live with the dementors, wah wah wah. Yeah it sucked so why do you insist in
perpetuating your imprisonment and acting like a total emotional eunuch!”



“Hey fuck you! What do you know about it anyway you
self-absorbed bastard! You haven’t been there. You don’t know what its like! No
you don’t get to be hurt! This is about me!’’ Sirius shouted back, crushing
grass beneath a heel as he stamped.



“Its always all about
you Sirius! Always! You think I don’t understand isolation? You think I don’t
understand pain, rejection? Let me tell you something, Dementors aren’t the
only emotional leeches out there. Living a lie, every day, being a total
outcast because of something that is out of your control, being accused of
something you would never, ever do! Stop me when I get to some part that you
didn’t experience.” Remus growled, trying not to cry. He had done his best to
not focus on these aspects of his life, tried to pretend that his seclusion was
of his own choosing. Fallacies that add bricks to his heart just as fast as the
truth of the matter. The truth was, he was a werewolf, vile and unspeakable, he
was a poof which was near as bad, the truth was if he had tried to move into a
wizarding village after his very public humiliation at Hogwarts, he would have
been run out with sticks, pitchforks and torches, and not the kind that run on
batteries.



“And you want to know
what else, Siri, my dear?” He spat bitterly. “I had to live with your betrayal.
Your infidelity. I had no anchor to cling to, I have nothing left, nothing at
all, but a bunch of framed pictures tacked to the wall. I am not Harry’s
godfather, James and Lillie didn’t see me fit for that… just like I wasn’t seen
fit to be their secret keeper, just like the only reason I was allowed to
linger at the edges of your friendship like a whipped dog, was because I was your
whipped dog.” Remus spun away again, hands clenching and unclenching by his
sides, nails digging into his palm along the ruts of old crescent shaped scars,
his shoulders heaving, as he panted trying to keep himself in check.



“What?” Sirius
recoiled, like he had been struck, brows drawing together. ‘Allowed to
linger’? Was that how his dear Moony truly felt? That he had been only
tolerated? Where were these insecurities coming from? He had never seen his
friend, his lover like this, never seen this anger and rage, this self
depreciating loathing, and he wondered briefly, if all those scars on his
narrow body, those deep lines he scratched into himself were really because of
pain and need…. Or if it was simple self-mutilation.



“Maybe I have been
naïve…. Tell me Sirius, I was really just a stand in for James wasn’t I. You
couldn’t shag him, so you shagged me? You really don’t love me any more,
because you never did.” Remus wasn’t sure what he was even saying any more, it
was like the shackles of the pain that was the legacy of his lycanthropy, that
he had drug along behind him dutifully were suddenly strangling him. Like he
had found some part of him, that was tender and delicate, and had been kept
over the years by his friends, carefully tended and cultivated and made to
survive, had, in the last decade, rotted, and had only just been noticed now.
That brick wall around his heart had let out just a little of what it was build
to hide.



“Moony! Get a hold of
yourself!” Sirius was appalled; he grabbed Remus’s shoulders and gave him a
shake hard enough that he heard the werewolf’s teeth click together. “It was
never, ever like that. James loved you, as much as he loved me, so did Lillie,
you may have been closer to her then any of us. You know I loved you and well.
You know that Remus. I don’t know what’s broke down inside you, but you better
fix it. Because I sure as hell cant.”



Sirius’s grip on his
shoulders was painfully tight, tight enough to leave bruises but Remus didn’t
try to draw away, barely even noticed. “You’re right. I should have remained
silent. Remote Remus.” He chuckled dryly. “Don’t fret Sirius. Don’t fret. I
will make no demands of you. I will heal. Go on now, your emotion is showing.”



Sirius released his
grip slowly and took a step back, not sure what had happened, only knowing that
the spurting vein of hurt had been capped and no longer rushed out…. But that
coldness…. Sirius shivered and took another step back, he didn’t care, he
reminded himself as he turned and walked back into the small cabin, mind set on
tending Buckbeak, hoping whatever clamp Remus had used to close that vein would
hold.

 

 

 

Authors Note: Sorry on the long delay to get
this finished things have been topsy turvey lately, with any luck things will
go more smoothly now.





* in•fi•del•i•ty
Pronunciation: "in-f&-'de-l&-tE,
-(")fI-
Function: noun
Inflected Form(s): plural -ties
Date: 15th century
1 : lack of belief in a religion
2 a :
unfaithfulness to a moral obligation : disloyalty b :
marital unfaithfulness. I am
choosing the second definition listed.