Once in a Blue Moon (COMPLETE)

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You’re With Me Every Single Day
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The centaur camp was a veritable hive of activity on warm June morning. The early morning mist had gone and the afternoon promised to be hot and sunny.

A group of young foals were racing each other whilst the older centaurs went about their daily routines.

Remus had spent the morning helping plant young saplings to replace the trees that the older centaurs had chopped down for building materials. It was a tiring job but enjoyable because the centaurs seemed to know everything about the different type of trees and were happy to share their knowledge with him.

As interesting as it was, Remus was more than ready for the midday meal and when Firenze volunteered them to start the cooking he had leapt at the chance.

In the past Remus would have loved hanging out at the camp every day, but since the day that Sirius had walked into the clearing he couldn’t help but wish that right now he was meeting Sirius at the other side of the Forbidden Forest. Unfortunately he now had a full time childminder in the form of Torin and the chief of the centaur herd was not letting him out of his sight for so much as a moment. It was only after several weeks of being constantly watched that Remus realised that Romulus was not going to ease off with his new rules, and the trust that had once been between the two of them had gone. Remus hoped that he won it back soon, and not just so that he could see Sirius again.

“Remus?”

“Hmm?” Remus looked up from the fire he was trying to coax to life for the meal. Firenze was making every effort to appear occupied with his task of cleaning the utensils.

“Don’t look now, but you appear to have a visitor.”

Of course telling Remus not to look meant that it was the younger boy’s cue to do the exact opposite. “Sirius,” he whispered, grinning widely.

“Foolish kid,” Firenze chided as he grabbed hold of Remus’s arm to stop him waving towards where Sirius was hidden in the trees. “Do you want to get him caught? To get you both caught?”

“I knew he’d sneak out,” Remus grinned.

“Shout a bit louder, why don’t you?” Firenze muttered.

“Why not let him go play with the human?” Ebony asked as she approached the cooking fire, which was still failing to ignite. “Its not like the cub’s much use round here anyway. Can’t even light a decent fire.”

“That’s enough Ebony,” Torin ordered as he too approached the fire and examined it closely. “The wood appears to be damp; no wonder it’s not lighting. Who gave him this?”

Ebony stamped a hoof on the ground a time or two and looked everywhere but at her father.

“Go fetch him some dry wood and don’t take all day about it,” Torin snapped. Ebony looked sulky at the order but silently obeyed her father and chief.

“Have you spoken to her yet?” Firenze asked.

“Last night,” Torin confirmed as he frowned after his daughter. “She is opposed to the idea of course.”

“Naturally.”

“Perhaps in time she will come round.”

“She has set her sights on Magorian,” Firenze stated with a barely concealed sneer as he spoke the name of the other centaur.

“I am hopeful that it is merely a passing infatuation,” Torin replied. He frowned as though he didn’t truly believe this was the case. “The Ministry is beginning to encroach on our lands and the herd is restless at what they perceive to be my lack of action. They do not realise that the lowlands’ herds have already been in the same position we are in now, and that fighting did not work. We are too few in number and must form alliances with other herds.”

Firenze nodded silently and Remus listened intently. He could see Sirius still hidden at the edge of the trees and knew that his opportunity to slip away for a moment or two had come. Seizing his chance he casually walked to the edge of the forest, he knew that running would only draw attention to his actions like it had the previous week.

“I can’t talk for long,” Remus warned as he nodded towards the camp. “As soon as Ebony gets back with the wood they’ll notice I’m missing.”

Sirius nodded in understanding. “What happened?” he asked. “And why haven’t you told me why in your letters when I asked?”

“Rom’s checking all my letters and sending them himself now,” Remus explained.

“Oh.”

“He’ll probably have come round by next term,” Remus speculated quietly. “You break up for the summer soon don’t you?”

Sirius nodded as he sat down on the ground and began rummaging around in his pockets. After a nervous glance back towards the camp Remus dropped down beside him

“What you looking for?” Remus asked curiously as Sirius pulled out a variety of sweets, scraps of parchment and numerous unidentifiable items.

“These,” Sirius announced with a grin as he pulled out two mirrors and passed one to Remus. “A present for you.”

“I know you said Narcissa was vain but I didn’t think you were.”

“It’s not that sort of mirror,” Sirius grinned. “At least not just that sort of mirror.”

“What does it do?” Remus asked with a grin of his own at the idea of owning something magical of his own. There were plenty of magical objects in his house but they all belonged to Romulus and Remus didn’t even have a wand of his own.

“They’re two-way mirrors,” Sirius announced. “Ordered the set from Diagon Alley with the last of my pocket money.”

“How do they work?”

“Just say my name into it and see.”

“Sirius,” Remus dutifully said and he watched in astonishment as Sirius’s face appeared in the mirror in his hand. Sirius held out his own mirror and Remus could see his own face staring back at him from the looking glass. “Wow!” he breathed.

“Sound carries through them too,” Sirius explained. “We can use these to talk to each other instead of sending owls all the time.”

“You don’t like sending owls?” Remus asked. He loved receiving letters himself and Sirius was his only correspondent.

“I just hate waiting for replies. This way if we have something to say to each other we can just pull out the mirror and speak to each other that way.”

“Rom might get suspicious if we stop writing,” Remus pointed out.

“Then we’ll write as well.” Sirius shrugged. “I thought you’d like the mirror. I know it’s not the same as being together or anything, but it’s pretty close. I thought you’d like it.”

“I do,” Remus exclaimed as he pulled his friend into a tight hug. “It’s the best present ever.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.” Remus laughed.

Sirius grinned back at him, showed him how to turn off the mirror, and tucked his own back into his robes. “Just try not to call out to me when I’m in class,” he warned.

“I won’t,” Remus promised. “How are things back at school?”

“The same,” replied Sirius, his grin falling from his face immediately and a dark scowl appearing. “Potter’s still the same. After a few weeks of looking over his shoulder in case you appeared he just started hexing me again. He told the whole school that it wasn’t me pulling those pranks as well. He asked everyone in Gryffindor whether they thought I should have been in Slytherin or Hufflepuff. They all hate me.”

“You’d have had more fun in Hufflepuff,” Remus commiserated. “But you’re getting the hang of the spells now?”

“Some of them. I’m going to practice all summer. Mother won’t care if I’m doing magic outside of school and Father’s at work all the time anyway.”

“What’s your dad do?” Remus asked when he realised that although Sirius frequently spoke of his mother, he rarely mentioned his father.

“He works for the Ministry of Magic. He’s also a member of the Wizengamot and has to sit on cases all the time.”

“He sits on trials?” Remus squeaked and cleared his throat, hoping his next question sounded less panicky. “What sort of trials?” he asked as he tried to quell the alarm that had risen at the new direction their conversation had gone in.

“All sorts.” Sirius shrugged with disinterest. “Any criminal case that requires the full Wizengamot; not all of them do, just the big and important ones.”

Remus felt his stomach turn at the idea that one day in the – hopefully distant – future, his best friend’s father might one day hold the fate of himself and his brother in his hands. “Is your dad fair when he makes a decision?” he asked, even though he suspected the answer would not be the one that he so desperately wanted to hear.

Sirius frowned for a moment before answering. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I guess so. I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Is he as strict as your mum?”

“Only when he’s in a temper because someone got freed who he didn’t like,” Sirius snorted. “I’ll just stay in my room out of their way.”

“Sounds like your summer’s going to be as rubbish as mine,” Remus replied.

“You could always come and visit,” Sirius suggested hopefully.

Remus snorted, knowing that Romulus was highly unlikely to agree to such an idea. He wondered if Romulus knew what Sirius’s father did for a living. He knew that he’d heard of the Black family long before Remus had received his first letter from Sirius. But did he know that Sirius’s father worked for the Ministry? “Um, Sirius?”

“What?”

“Don’t put anything in your letters about your dad’s job,” Remus asked quietly.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t. Promise you won’t let Rom know where he works.”

Sirius frowned slightly and a small crease appeared between his eyes. “Is it the Ministry that’s looking for you?” he asked in a whisper.

Remus felt the colour drain from his face as his friend spoke the words that revealed that he’d guessed the truth.

“It is, isn’t it?” Sirius whispered again.

Remus finally nodded his reply, his throat too dry to form words.

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Did you do some underage magic or something? They aren’t that harsh you know. You’d just get a warning. Or did Rom do something?”

“It’s both of us they’re looking for,” Remus whispered. “And they can’t ever find us.”

“But you can’t spend all your life hiding!”

“We don’t have a choice.”

“But-” Whatever Sirius had been about to say was cut short by the dark shadow that preceded the arrival of Firenze.

“You’d better get back to the school,” Firenze warned with a subtle nod behind him. Sirius sighed in resignation but stood up. Remus clambered to his own feet, and casually pocketed his mirror. He could tell that Firenze had caught his movement by the wink he gave him. Thankfully the teenager centaur was as prone to mischief and trouble as Remus himself and he knew that he wouldn’t tell anyone what he had seen.

“I’ll…er…” Sirius cut himself off, and Remus guessed he had been about to say that he’d talk to him later.

“I’ll be in touch later,” Remus promised, knowing his own words could be interpreted in a variety of ways and only Sirius would know he meant the mirror.

“I should be getting back to the lions’ den anyway,” Sirius sighed.

“Try not to worry about them,” Remus advised. “Next term you’ll have mastered all those spells and Potter will have forgotten everything he learned all year.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“You do,” Remus told him. “It’s just a bit buried. You got put in Gryffindor so you must be brave.”

“It’s hard to be brave when you’re getting hexed every other day by the rest of the dorm.”

“Rom says that being brave is doing the right thing even when it scares you.”

“I don’t feel brave.”

Firenze stamped a hoof impatiently. “Remus, we really need to get back.”

Remus nodded and turned back towards the camp once more. “It’ll all work out,” he told Sirius one last time before waving him goodbye.

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“Remus? You there?”

Remus moaned sleepily and rolled over.

“Remus?”

Remus blinked a time or two and reached for the mirror. “Sirius? Wasup?” he mumbled as he tried to focus on the face in the mirror.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“It’s six o’clock in the morning. What do you think?”

“Sorry,” Sirius repeated. “I wanted to talk to you before the others woke up. It’s the last day of term today and we’ll be heading in to Hogsmeade to go home later on. I thought…”

“Rom won’t let me,” Remus complained in anticipation of the question. “He won’t let me out of his sight today at all. He took the day off work to watch me.”

“Oh. I just thought perhaps he’d let us say goodbye in person.”

“No chance,” Remus muttered. “We’ll have to make do with the mirrors. They’re nearly as good as being together for real.”

“I’ll write loads over the summer,” Sirius promised.

“You better,” Remus warned. “If you don’t Rom might figure out we’ve found another way to keep in touch and put a stop to it.”

“Maybe next year he’ll let me visit again,” Sirius suggested hopefully.

“Maybe,” Remus replied, though he was no longer as hopeful that that would be the case.

“Have a nice summer.”

“You too.”

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Sirius saw that his mother had come to collect him from the train and could sense the now familiar feeling of disappointment cast in his direction. When he’d returned home for Christmas he had hoped that her dismay at the result of the Sorting Ceremony was only temporary. Now he could see that it wasn’t. Walburga had had nearly a year to get used to the idea of one of her sons being in the house of Gryffindor and Sirius now suspected that she was never going to like it.

“Come along Sirius, hurry up,” Walburga ordered as she stalked towards the barrier that separated platform nine and three quarters from the rest of King’s Cross Station. Sirius hurried to keep up with her and wondered when might be a good time to suggest getting him some new robes for the following term. He was already outgrowing the ones that he had and he really wanted to dress in the Gryffindor colours in his second year.

He passed James Potter in the red and gold robes he’d received for Christmas and glared at the boy as he hugged his mother – who was weeping again – and excitedly told her all his latest news.

As Sirius queued at the barrier with his mother the sounds of the Potters’ conversation drifted over to him.

They talked of their plans for the summer, the holiday they would be taking, and whether James would like to invite any friends over to stay.

“Peter would love to come over,” James replied to the last question. “He’s invited me to stay with him too. Can I?”

“Of course, dear. And what of your other friends? There must be more than just the two of you in Gryffindor. Don’t you want to invite anyone else to visit?”

“There’s only one other boy in our year in Gryffindor,” James snorted. “And I’m not inviting him!”

From the corner of his eye he saw James nod in his direction and he resolutely looked away.

“A Black in Gryffindor?” Mrs Potter exclaimed and Sirius felt his face begin to flush under her assessing gaze.

“It’s got to be a mistake,” James replied. “He’s got Slytherin written all over him.”

“The Sorting Hat doesn’t make mistakes,” Mrs Potter said quietly and Sirius risked another quick glance over towards her.

“He’s pure Slytherin scum,” James stated.

“Not if he was sorted into Gryffindor,” Mrs Potter pointed out. “Haven’t you tried to get to know him better? To find out what he’s really like?”

“What for?” James sounded positively aghast at the very idea.

“Oh James.” Mrs Potter sighed with barely concealed exasperation. “How would you have felt if you had been sorted into a different house to the one that not only you, but your whole family, expected you to be in?”

Sirius watched as James shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other under his mother’s assessing gaze.

“Well?” Mrs Potter asked again.

“I don’t know,” James finally replied. “Lonely I guess.”

“I think you would guess right,” Mrs Potter said quietly. “From what I can see, the young Black heir is the only student on this platform who isn’t saying goodbye to his friends this evening.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have any,” Peter chimed in as he approached the Potters.

“Then perhaps you could…”

Sirius never heard what it was that Mrs Potter suggested Peter could do. He and his mother had reached the front of the queue to the barrier and stepped through, leaving the Potters to wait their turn on the other side.

He wondered if his mother had heard any of the Potters’ conversation but there was no way he could ask her, at least not without enduring another speech about how the Sorting Ceremony was outdated and needed to be discontinued for the good of wizard-kind.

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Grimmauld Place hadn’t changed much in the months since Sirius had last been home. The parlour had been re-wallpapered but the pattern on the paper was the same as before, the same as it had been for as long as Sirius could remember.

Sirius’s room looked as though he had stepped out of it barely moments ago. The room was spotless and Kreacher was polishing the brasses around the fireplace. Sirius dragged his trunk over to the end of the bed, scratching the floorboards in the process. Kreacher moaned at him under his breath as he glared at the marks on the floor.

“Embarrassment to the noble house of Black,” Kreacher muttered. Sirius drew in a sharp breath at the words. He’d never been particularly fond of Kreacher; the house elf was devoted to his mother, and frequently told tales on both himself and his brother. But he’d never heard the creature actually insult him in such a manner.

It was a few moments before he realised that the insult was something that wasn’t necessarily Kreacher’s own belief, merely something that he’d picked up from the rest of his family whilst he’d been away at school. Rather like a parrot might learn often heard phrases and repeat them back, house elves were known to parrot the beliefs of their owners.

“Get out of here!” Sirius snapped as he flung open the door and pointed out into the hallway.

Kreacher gave a mocking bow and backed out the door. “Very good, master,” he murmured as Sirius slammed the door in his face.

In no time at all Sirius had unpacked his trunk. He threw his clothes into the wardrobe without even the pretence of order and piled his books up on his desk in a haphazard manner. He found what he was looking for at the bottom of the trunk, buried there since the last Quidditch match of the year.

The red and gold banners had been handed out to all the students of Gryffindor so that they could wave them as they cheered on the house team. Sirius hadn’t waved his banner, although he’d taken it to the match with the rest of the students. He found it difficult to yell encouragement to the team when he knew that they, like the rest of the house, thought he should be sitting in the Slytherin stands instead. The banner had remained still in his hands and after the match, which Gryffindor had lost spectacularly to Ravenclaw, he’d put it away in his trunk, forgotten about until now.

Up until now Sirius had not put up any decorations on his walls. His mother had told him such things were vulgar, and although he’d pointed out at the time that no one but the family ever saw his room, she had not relented.

Pulling out the banner he walked to the wall and pulled a chair across so that he could reach high enough to place it where he wanted. When he thought he had judged it just right, so that the gold would glisten when the sun shone in the room, he pulled out his wand and cast a permanent sticking charm to keep it on the wall.

“Mum will do her nut when she sees that,” Regulus hissed as he ducked into the room. Sirius jumped in surprise and fell backwards off the chair.

“It’s just a banner,” he replied as he pulled himself up off the floor.

“It’s not just a banner,” Regulus pointed out. “It’s a Gryffindor banner. She’ll go mental. You’ve got to take it down before she sees it.”

“Let her see it,” Sirius snapped. “I don’t care.”

“I thought you hated being in Gryffindor?” Regulus asked as he righted the chair that Sirius had been using to stand on.

“I don’t really hate the house,” Sirius admitted. “I just don’t like the other students who are in it with me.”

“Why not?” Regulus asked. “You must be like them if you’re in the same house as them.”

“I’m nothing like them!” Sirius snapped. “They hex me and hate me and…”

“Narcissa said you were hexing them back.”

“Narcissa should shut up.”

“But were you?”

“Sometimes,” Sirius admitted, which was true. Although Remus had performed most of the spells that they had cast at Potter and Pettigrew he had been a part of it and towards the end of the year had cast a few of them himself.

Regulus smirked back at him at his admission, but the sound of Walburga screeching from downstairs forestalled any response he was about to make. “Imps in the laundry! Regulus Black get down here at once!”

“Got to the I's then?” Sirius asked with a grin.

“Yep!” replied Regulus proudly as he disappeared out of the door.

Sirius shook his head with a smile as he cleared room on his bedside table and placed the mirror in the space he’d created. “Remus?” he whispered into the mirror and a moment later the face of his friend appeared before him.

“You’re home then?” Remus asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius confirmed. “Do you want to guess what I did?”

“Hexed Potter at the station?” Remus suggested hopefully.

“Nope, guess again.”

“Pushed him off the train?”

“You’ll never guess,” Sirius said as he shook his head. “I put up a Gryffindor banner in my bedroom.”

“You didn’t?”

“Did too,” Sirius replied. “Mother hasn’t seen it yet though.”

“I’m proud of you,” Remus said solemnly, his lips twitching as a grin tried to break free.

“Why?”

“Because from what you’ve said about your mum, I wouldn’t be brave enough to do that,” Remus replied.

“So you think maybe I might be a proper Gryffindor after all?” Sirius asked.

“I never thought you weren’t,” Remus pointed out. Sirius watched as the face in the mirror darted a look away from him. “I think Rom’s coming upstairs. I’d better go.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow night then,” Sirius said. “We’ve got my grandparents visiting tomorrow so I’ll be on display downstairs all day.”

“Not tomorrow,” Remus whispered, shaking his head. “The night after.”

“Why not tomorrow?” Sirius asked with a frown, but Remus was gone, the mirror deactivated.

“What was that about?” Sirius mumbled to himself. In the last week, since he’d given Remus the second mirror, they had spoken every single night before going to sleep. Sometimes it was for just a few minutes, other times for longer. They hadn’t missed a single night and Sirius wondered what could possibly keep his friend from speaking to him for even so much as a minute.