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gjnnypotter · 3 years

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Godfather Ch3

CW: Sex references, alcohol consumption, bad language.

He liked living with Remus. It wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement; Sirius was on the old sofa in the sparse little living room that the previous tenants had left behind. It was collapsed in the middle and the stained fabric had cigarette burns in, though Remus had valiantly tried to cover it with blankets. It also wasn’t the luxurious cornucopia of fresh food and excellent cocktails that he had grown accustomed to on the island; Remus’s stipend from the Werewolf Registration Committee, on which he had to live until he found himself another job, was shockingly little and he had to collect it in person every Monday morning. From that, he would immediately go to buy himself food for the week, but so small was his budget that he was forced into stupid financial decisions, like buying only a small bottle of milk that would not last him the week, because he could not afford the bigger.

Despite this, it felt good to be around a friendly face. It had been so long since he had had a friend. He sometimes wondered if he annoyed him, trailing after him, chatting all the time, asking questions, teasing, and sometimes, yes, Remus did seem exasperated or annoyed, but at the same time he seemed to enjoy the company too. There was a rhythm to the way they spoke through the day. Mornings usually started with the delivery of the newspaper, and as Sirius usually rose later than Remus, he read it second and asked him questions over breakfast, trying his best to make sense of everything that had changed over the years.

They usually then delved into reminiscing, aided along by the photographs in Remus’s house, or by wild tangents because after so long of thinking of nothing else, Sirius found it hard to concentrate on anything that wasn’t his school days any more. These started as positive, seemed to follow the sun as it danced through the sky, and when things started to feel gloomy, when the pain of the joyful memories became too much, he tried to change the topic to Remus, to things he might have missed.

‘Any women on the go?’ he asked once.

Remus raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you think? Of course not.’

‘Why not?’

Remus waved his hand vaguely around him, the living room with the broken sofa and peeling wallpaper, the potted plants he’d used to brighten the place up, though they looked out of place on the worn carpet.

‘So?’

‘So charming, so romantic.’

‘My hut on the island only had one room, and it was covered in sand.’

‘Yes, well, I’m not you.’

‘Meaning?’ said Sirius, but he was grinning wickedly. Remus did not seem to want to dignify him with an answer.

Indeed, it seemed hard to get Remus to say anything about what he had been doing the last decade. Every now and then, he would mention a time when he was in a job, and when Sirius would press further - because some of them sounded interesting, or odd, or staggeringly dull - he was shut down quickly.

‘An eel farm?’ he said with surprise. ‘What on earth did you do there?’

‘Held my nose, mostly. I wasn’t there long.’

In the evenings, when they drank, they returned to reminiscing, but no longer had the good sense to keep away from difficult topics. Sirius gave Remus the money for firewhiskey, and they would sit there in the grotty living room having conversations that they should really have sober, but were too afraid to face without the golden brown liquid.

'Why did you laugh?' Remus asked him one evening. 'They said you laughed.'

'When?'

'When you were arrested. I've thought about it for years. Hardly thought about anything else. All those people. And Lily and James just the night before… Why did you laugh?'

Sirius stared at him without really seeing him, his throat burning even though he had not sipped from his glass, his eyes blurring. He could smell the smoke and the melted tarmac of the road. 'James told me a joke,' he said eventually.

Remus stared back, for a long time. Every year showed in his face. 'What?' he muttered, so quietly it might have been a sigh.

'I see him all the time,' Sirius admitted, and he gently moved his hand, half gesturing to the kitchen, where earlier he thought he had seen him out the corner of his eye, standing at the back door for a smoke. 'Don't you?'

Remus shook his head. 'No.' His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper. 'No, I'd give anything to see him again.'

'I must be mad then,' said Sirius, and he tried to smile, but his mouth merely twitched.

'Do you talk?' Remus asked him gently.

'Not so much now,' said Sirius. He swallowed. 'And these days I try not to look if I do spot him.'

'Why?'

'Got to keep your sanity, haven't you?'

Remus nodded slowly, and then drank from his firewhiskey.

***

The next day, Sirius ate his breakfast while reading about the Triwizard Tournament returning to Hogwarts. 'Bloody shame this wasn't happening when we were at school,' he told Remus as he entered the kitchen. 'We'd have blown all competition out of the water.'

'I can only imagine,' Remus said. 'It’ll be good fun for the kids, I can think of a few excellent candidates for Hogwarts champion.’

‘None of them a patch on the Marauders, of course.’

‘Of course,’ said Remus, smiling, and he stirred his tea, tapped the spoon against the mug, and joined Sirius at the table.

'You look smart,' said Sirius, noting the tired suit Remus was wearing.

'Another job interview,' sighed Remus. 'Admin in the office for Floo Powder Manufacturers Limited.'

'Well, that sounds like every little boy's dream,' said Sirius.

'Doesn't it?' said Remus dryly, wrenching the lid off the marmalade. 'Can't wait to answer the question "so, why do you want to work here?" I'll wait to see if I actually get it before complaining, I suppose.'

'What're your chances, d'you reckon?'

'Slim to none.' He began applying marmalade to his solitary slice of toast so viciously that it began to tear under his knife. 'Thanks to that complete and utter-'

Remus then proceeded to unleash such a long line of expletives that Sirius wondered if he was in fact someone in disguise, rather than his usually irritatingly mild-mannered and polite friend.

'-of a woman,' he finished.

'What the hell has happened to you while I've been in prison?' he asked, rather amused. 'Who are you?'

'Sorry,' muttered Remus. 'It's just this politician - Dolores Umbridge - she cottoned onto all the anger when I had to leave the teaching job and used it to boost her profile with some new legislation.'

'Legislation for what?'

Remus took a bite of his toast and chewed miserably for a moment before answering. 'Amongst other things… I'm now bound by law to warn employers about my condition before the interview begins. If I fail to do so and allow myself to be hired without their knowledge that I could pose a risk, I can lose my job with no notice. Repeated failure to do so can land me in prison. Obviously no one outright says they're not hiring me because of that, but...'

'That's disgusting,' said Sirius quietly. 'That's... how can that have passed?'

Remus shrugged. 'Who's going to argue against laws designed to protect children?'

'How does it protect children?' he said furiously. ‘Are there kids running around the floo powder factory?’

'I'd be having this problem anyway,' said Remus heavily. 'My name was all over the papers, I'm surprised I got this interview at all. It's other werewolves I feel guilty for, I've caused them to-'

'You've not caused anything!'

'I never should have taken that job,' Remus muttered, almost to himself. 'I knew it was too close to children, I knew if it got out people would be horrified... So selfish of me...'

'Why did you take it then?'

'Thought you were going to come and kill me, you mass-murderer. Dumbledore said the school would be safer.'

'Yeah, fair, I probably wouldn't have killed you in front of children.'

'Course you would have, you were eager enough to kill Peter in front of Harry.'

Sirius considered. 'Yeah, all right, I would have done.'

'Plus, free wolfsbane potion, which reminds me - I need to get more on my way back from the interview.' He pulled a money bag out of his pocket, and poured the contents onto the table; change clattered onto the surface. He started grouping together the knuts and sickles, his lips moving silently as he counted.

'Is it not free on St Mungos?'

'No,' said Remus grimly.

'Take some money,' said Sirius, reaching for his own.

'No-'

'Consider it rent,' said Sirius firmly, sliding several galleons across the table. 'And it comes with the condition that you get some milk and some decent food in. Maybe some more booze.'

'All right,' said Remus, picking up the coins. 'I'll confess to having missed the charity of friends all these years.'

'Call it bribery that you won't eat us, if it makes you feel better.'

'It doesn't, but thank you.' He rose, took a last swig from his tea, and said, 'right, I'd better go. Don't leave the house, don't stand near windows or anything, don't let yourself get caught.'

‘Don’t have fun, got it,’ said Sirius, flicking through the paper.

‘Oh,’ said Remus, suddenly disconcerted. ‘Is that-?’

Sirius looked up, and followed his baffled expression, to see large yellow eyes peering at him through the kitchen window. ‘Hedwig!’ he said, his chair scraping as he got up. ‘Harry’s owl-’

‘How did she find you?’ said Remus sharply. ‘We need to be more-’

‘She’s very smart,’ said Sirius dismissively. ‘Relax.’ He let her in, and gave her a brief scratch on top of her head, to which she closed her eyes and hooted softly, and took the letter.

Dear Sirius,

I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, I was half-asleep when I wrote to you last time. There’s no point coming back, everything’s fine here. Don’t worry about me, my head feels completely normal.

Harry

Sirius gave a bark of laughter and, grinning, handed the letter to Remus, who scanned it quickly. He smiled too, but sighed in a resigned sort of way. ‘Good attempt.'

'Isn't it?' said Sirius proudly.

'He’s worried about you being back, putting yourself in danger of getting caught - as am I.’

‘I can tell,’ said Sirius fondly, taking the letter back. ‘I’ll reply - reassure him.’

‘Do,’ urged Remus. ‘He seems worried.’

Sirius had not had anyone worry about him for many years. He looked down at the letter, the rushed, panicked, obvious lie, teetering between childishness and maturity, and he hoped that Harry knew that he worried about him just as much.

'I'd really better go,' said Remus. 'Don't put your location in writing.'

'I won't - good luck.'

Remus left, and Sirius sat back down to begin his response. From the living room, James dictated, and reminded him to be grown up.

#please go and read this series rn #i am LIVING for this #!!!

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