Til Death Do Us Part

Til Death Becomes Us


After Graduation and before Voldemort, they travelled.

They had very little money, next to no posessions and no direction. They simply travelled, together, seeing all the sights, muggle and magical alike.

At first, they slept on friends floors, sofas or in spare beds whenever they could. Then they slept under the stars in a bigger-on-the-inside tent.

When it was his time, they made sure to be as far away from human population as they could be - in the middle of the moors, at the top of a lonely mountain, on an abandoned oil rig, deep in a forgotten cave - so there was no risk of spreading the curse.

After the first year, they ran out of money and began to take on the odd job as they travelled. Teaching in this magical town, digging pools in that muggle one, picking berries in this village, shelf stacking, waiting, driving - anything they could turn their hands to. Eventually, they moved out into Europe and continued to explore, still taking on the occasional job to aide in their travels. Sending postcards and gifts to James and Peter.

It started in Greece.

They were sleeping in the tent again - not enough money for even the cheapest of hotels - enjoying good food, good wine, clean air and even better company.

After maybe more wine than they should have been drinking, Sirius leaned over and kissed him. Completely out of the blue.

Or not, really. He had been aware of a change in the atmosphere between them for a long time - almost as if they had both been waiting for the right moment.

And that night, in Greece, had apparently been it.

Sirius hadn't shaved for a few days, so the kiss had been scratchy, which only made him laugh through the drunken haze and push him away, telling him to shave properly before trying again.

After only a moments silence, they had returned to drinking and the next day, they were in Egypt.

It happened again while they were staying in a tiny, cramped, dusty and underfurnished hotel room in the cheap side of Cairo. The room was cheap and smelled it - instead of risking the musty smelling bed, they had made a nest on the floor, using their own blankets and sleeping bags.

As they lay down for the night, Sirius had brushed the hair out of his eyes and kissed him again.

This time - not drunk and Sirius had actualyl shaved - he kissed him back.

They slept very close that night, noses almost touching.

They were in India when it happened the third time. Sleeping in the tent, in a clearing in a forest.

He had lain listening to the insects and the night creatures, moving only feet from the walls of the tent, and made up his mind. He had climbed out of bed and slipped in next to Sirius before he realised what he was doing. Sirius had been awake and they held each other in the dark, kissing deeply and passionately.

The fourth time - and their first time - happened in a remote village in Japan.

They stopped overnight in a mountain village, well known for it's Onsen and took a private room for themselves.

It had been the rivulets of water and sweat, slowly tracking down Sirius' chest that spurred him into action.

He had straddled Sirius' lap, hooked his arms around his neck and proceeded to kiss him into submission, before licking the rivulets from his chest. Then, not really knowing what to do, he had gently rocked his hips, bringing their cocks into sudden contact, that ended with them gasping, panting, thrusting against each other until they came.

From then on, they explored each other as well as the world.

Until the call came for them to return home.

Voldemort.

The war began and the world changed and they changed with it. Until one night.

James was dead.

Lilly was dead.

Peter was dead.

And Sirius was locked away in Azkaban and he thought his heart might never again be whole.

The war was over, Voldemort was gone, but he had no loved ones to turn to, to celebrate with, to commiserate with.

For twelve years, he travelled again, alone and reluctant to return to the country he once called home. He revisited the places he had seen first with Sirius. He taught where he could, slept under the stars when he couldn't, in the tent that had been home to them for so many years. In his heart - broken as it was - he couldn't believe Sirius had betrayed them all.

But he couldn't see. Couldn't see an alternative.

He eventually returned to England, alone, poor and dishevelled - just in time for Albus to hire him. Just in time to see Siruis' eyes accusing him - wanted posters on every surface, in all the papers, even on the muggle news.

Accusing him of giving up, of betraying the only man he ever loved, condeming him to a life of hell.

And then Peter wasn't dead and the world changed again.

He saw, for the first time, the alternative his shattered heart had been looking for.

For two whole years, they had each other again. To hold, to carress, to kiss and to love.

He felt almost normal again, real again.

But then, war broke out again and this time. This time, Sirius was gone forever.

He was alone again.

Alone and angry and scared.

So alone.

When Nymphadora persued him, he went through the motions. Still alone, still angry, still scared.

He married her, gave her everything. He even created a child with her - and that was almost the last straw, he almost gave up right there - but inside, he yearned for release. For death. For her cold embrace.

With her, he would never again feel so alone.

Then Voldemort came - and this was his chance.

At Hogwarts, where it all began. He'd come full circle.

Death Eaters everywhere. Death everywhere.

Harry safe.

Nymphadora safe.

Teddy safe.

He made his decision and didn't duck the green light.

End.