Secrets (Remus Lupin: Harry Potter series) - Updated 6/20

[Dusty15]

Secrets
by Dusty15

This fic is set during the First War against You Know Who, when the Marauders are in their early 20s. 

 

They were all gathered at a long table in Dorcas Meadowes' country home where the Order had established one of their safe houses for meetings. Albus Dumbledore sat at the head of the table listening while Marlene McKinnon gave an update on her recent mission with Edgar Bones. James, Lily, and Peter were all seated together toward the middle while Remus, ever punctual, was closer to the front.

And Sirius Black was running late. Again.

He circled his motorbike high above the fields, searching for the glimmer of the enchantments that hid the house. Finally he spotted them in the distance and sent the bike into a sharp dive, landing at such speed that he nearly sent himself toppling over the handlebars. He performed a few quick charms to hide the bike and a few more to get past the safe house's security spells. Finally, he was at the door visible to only those who had been given the location by the secret keeper. He let himself inside and rushed down the hallway to the kitchen, rounding the corner and entering with a grin on his face.

“Mr. Black, I see you've managed to join us,” Dumbledore said cooly. “We've just begun.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sirius groveled, making his way through the jumble of chairs to the only remaining open spot at the far end of the table next to Sturgis Podmore. A few seats down at a spot across the table, James gave a small wave and stuck his tongue out at his friend. Sirius returned the gesture and gave a nod to Lily and Peter.

“Where's Moony?” he mouthed at James.

James inclined his head over to where Remus was sitting further along.

Sirius craned his neck to see, silently cursing Emmeline Vance for blocking his view. Then, by either his newly gained skill of mind-control or just simple luck, she pushed back her chair a bit and Remus came into view.

He was wearing a dark green wooly cardigan over his t-shirt despite the relatively mild spring weather and his head was inclined down, apparently studying the tabletop. It'd been weeks since Sirius had seem him. Dumbledore had sent Remus off on some mission up north that Sirius wasn't privy to...at least not yet. It didn't take much prying to get Remus to give up some little details.

Look up, Sirius thought as he stared at the man, but Remus remained still. Sirius definitely didn't have the power of mind control....too bad.

“Will you update us on your work, Sturgis?” Dumbledore was saying and Sirius snapped back to reality as Sturgis began speaking beside him.

Sirius feigned interest in the report, listening with as much attention as he could muster. He was counting the knots in the wooden kitchen cabinets to stay awake when a sound caught his ear.

Hrrhhh-tsKGHHH!

It was a heavy and tired-sounding, congested sneeze. His head turned just in time to see Remus' face emerge from behind a plaid flannel handkerchief. Their eyes finally met and Remus looked away quickly, but not before Sirius got a decent look at him. Remus' eyes were heavily circled and tired, like he'd been dragged out of bed after a full moon to attend the meeting. But Sirius knew that wasn't true. The moon had been over a week ago, because Sirius spent that night staking out a suspected Death Eater hideout with James. The majority of the mission involved them sitting in a grove of trees watching a house while the full moon hung ominously above them, a constant reminder of their friend.

“Fuck Dumbledore and his sodding missions,” Sirius had said, perturbed, as he'd poked a stick into the dirt at the base of the tree where he sat next to James. “We should be with Moony.”

“Dumbledore doesn't know, about Prongs and Padfoot,” James had replied with the sort of rational thinking that he'd apparently acquired with the threat of his impending fatherhood.

“Wonder where he is."

“He never can tell us.”

“He'll tell me,” Sirius had insisted.

Now, here they were, nearly reunited. By the looks of him, wherever Remus had been wasn't a pleasant place. A small swell of rage rose in Sirius' gut as he thought about Remus being sent to do whatever ridiculous dirty work Dumbledore always seemed to be putting him up to.

“Thank you, Sturgis,” Dumbledore was saying. “And Hestia?”

Sirius kept his gaze fixed on Remus, who sat facing away with his head propped up by his hand, elbow resting on the table. For someone who usually excelled at feigning attention, Remus looked a bit like he might drop off to sleep at any second. His head began to dip and Sirius thought that he might be starting to doze, but the sharp sound that followed told otherwise.

Ngh'tXHT!

The stifled sneeze was barely audible over Hestia's Order report. Remus' shoulders rose and fell as he sniffled thickly.

Sirius reached for his quill and a scrap of parchment from his bag.

Your flat after? I'll make tea. You look terrible.

He folded the scrap and tapped it with his wand before dropping it casually on the floor. The parchment slid silently along the ground under the long dining table before rising up and hovering just above Remus' lap.

It took a moment for Remus to notice to note but when he unfolded it, he paused to scrub a hand wearily across his eyes before reading the parchment. His head moved slightly, as if tempted to turn and look down the table, but his gaze remained downward and he scribbled a response before dropping the scrap back on the floor.

Sirius caught the paper as it returned to his lap, unfolding it to reveal Remus' familiar script.

Have to debrief w. Dumbledore after. Then I want my own bed. Won't be good company.

With a sigh, Sirius pocketed the note and tried to refocus on the meeting. Why did Remus need private debriefing with Dumbledore? Couldn't it wait? Clearly he wasn't well and sitting in an Order meeting was probably the last place he wanted to be. And Remus hadn't seen any of them in weeks...why didn't he at least want to say a brief hello?

The meeting seemed to drag on for a decade longer until finally Dumbledore clapped his hands together and thanked everyone for attending. Sirius scrambled to his feet, grabbing his bag and trying to fight the crowd to get over to Remus, but by the time he'd made it across the room, Remus and Dumbledore were gone.

“What's going on?” James asked, coming up behind Sirius. “He looked terrible.”

“I don't know,” Sirius replied, frustrated. “He said he needed to meet with Dumbledore privately for a debrief. Whatever the hell Dumbledore has him doing, I don't like it.”

“It's strange that he can never tell us,” Peter chimed in, joining the group. “Whatever it is, I don't understand why only Remus can know about it.”

“Dumbledore knows he's smart,” Lily added. “If he's trusted Remus with something secret, we should respect that.”

“Marauders don't keep secrets,” Sirius huffed, staring daggers at the closed door at the end of the room where he guessed Remus and Dumbledore had gone.

“We've got to get going,” James said, putting an arm around Lily. “Let us know if you get anything out of him.”

“I've got to run too,” Peter said. “Appointment. Catch you later, Pads?”

Sirius nodded.

When the others had gone, he thought briefly about barging in on the meeting between Dumbledore and Remus, but a better idea came to him and he went outside to his motorbike instead.

He rolled the bike over behind a large shrub and cast several disillusionment spells on it, hiding it away for later retrieval. Remus' flat wasn't close at all to the safe-house and if he wanted to get there before Remus, he'd have to Apparate.

Concentrating on the location of the Muggle neighbourhood in North London where Remus lived, he spun on his heel and disappeared, returning back to the ground in the alley beside Remus' building.

It took him several minutes gain entry, carefully removing layer after layer of protective spells. Then, it was a simple 'alohamora' and he was inside.

Remus' flat didn't have much in it to warrant that many locking spells, Sirius thought as he looked around the space. It was a bachelor flat consisting of one small room and an adjacent washroom. There was a tiny desk and chair in one corner, piled with books and parchment and an assorted array of other magical instruments and tools. The far wall had a counter with a sink, an electric kettle, a hot plate, and a fridge. Remus' bed and dresser took up the remaining wall.

Sirius inspected the cupboards, coming up with a box of teabags and he fiddled with the Muggle sink and kettle, finally figuring out how to get the damn thing to start boiling (you had to match that tail on the kettle up to the hole in the wall? A plug, was it?). With the tea prepped, he moved to Remus' bed, inspecting the chaotic pile of blankets and pillows. Nothing matched and nothing seemed to be in its proper place, with pillows on the floor and the quilts all tangled in a ball. He tossed them all off the bed and went about layering them back on the bed in neat stacks.

He was just fluffing the last pillow when he heard a sound at the door. Turning with a smile, he saw the door open quickly and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground unable to move.

“For fucksake, Sirius!” Remus' voice cried. It sounded hoarse and tired.

Sirius couldn't move his mouth to reply, so instead he gave a small groan from his spot on the floor.

Remus pointed his wand at the prone body on his floor and said “Rennervate!”

Sirius sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head where it'd smacked the hardwood.

“Hello to you too, Moony.”

“I put locking spells on my door for a reason, Sirius.”

“And I am remarkably good at removing them."

“I'll have to get stronger ones, then,” Remus replied dryly. “Thank you for the housewarming, but I just want to—teh....”

Remus paused mid-sentence and furrowed his brows, mouth dropping open and nostrils flaring threateningly. He dug in the pocket of his trousers for his handkerchief and barely got it to his face in time to smother two violent sneezes.

Hurhh'TSGHHTT! Nhh..gh'TSGHTT!

“Bless you,” Sirius said. “Sit. I made tea. I figured out your strange kettle with the tail.”

“Sirius....” Remus said from behind the cloth shield as he wiped his nose and gave a short, wet blow. “Please, I'll owl you later. I just want to go to bed.”

“Then go to bed. I'll stay.”

“I don't want you skulking around my flat while I'm sleeping,” Remus said, his voice starting to sound frustrated.

“You're gone for weeks without so much as a peep and then you turn back up looking and sounding like hell and wanting absolutely nothing to do with your best friends,” Sirius replied, exasperated. “What exactly do you have to hide, Moony, because you're not doing yourself any favours with this act.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Remus snapped back. “I don't want to argue with you. Please, Sirius. You should just --”

He was about to say “go” but his words caught in his throat and he began to cough. Sinking down to sit on the edge of his bed, Remus tucked his face into the crook of his arm, body shaking with each pained hack.

“Moony...” Sirius began, approaching the coughing man.

“Just go,” Remus choked out between spasms. His pale face was turning pink and sweaty with exertion.

“Let me get you some water first,” Sirius insisted, hurrying to the kitchen and pouring a glass. He returned to Remus' bedside and sat down, offering the cup over with one hand and placing the other on the man's back. Remus kept coughing, his back rising and falling under Sirius' touch. He took a sip of the water, then another, until the coughs slowly died away and Remus was left breathing shallowly as his strained lungs rested.

“There,” Sirius said, taking the empty water glass from Remus' grip and setting it down on the nightstand. “Now, tell me what drawer you keep your pyjamas in and I'll fetch them.”

“You don't have t—teh...heh'tsgHTT!”

Remus' sneeze was blocked by his wrist but when he pulled his hand away, his nose was shiny around the edges with moisture.

“I'm going to fetch your pyjamas for you whether you like it or not, Remus Lupin,” Sirius insisted. “Tell me where they are or I'll go digging through your drawers and make fun of all your pants.”

“Bottom drawer,” Remus said, defeated. He stood and plodded over to the washroom, shutting the door behind him. As Sirius picked out a pair of pyjama bottoms and a soft t-shirt, he could hear the muffled sounds of Remus trying to blow his nose over and over.

Sirius knocked on the bathroom door.

“I've got your clothes. I'll toss them in.”

He opened the door and threw the pyjamas inside before shutting it again. A few moments later, Remus emerged red-nosed and sniffling, now wearing the change of clothes. He walked past Sirius and straight to his bed, pushing back the stack of quilts and sliding under.

“You can go now,” he said, pulling one of the layers up and over his head.

“Or course,” Sirius replied. “Sleep well, Moony.”

But Sirius wasn't planning on going too far. Just down to the corner store for some medicine and food. It was painfully obviously that Remus had little of either thing in his flat.

Though Remus' neighbourhood was almost entirely Muggle, there was a small Wizarding shoppe located about a ten minute walk from the flat. Sirius found it relatively easily and stocked up a bag with instant self-warming soup, some more tea, and a variety of balms and tonics that claimed to ease colds. He bypassed the Pepper Up and other potions. Remus' werewolf physiology was generally hearty against the more common bugs cured by Pepper Up, so anything that managed to get him this sick tended to remain impervious to readily-available potion remedies.

Bag of supplies in hand, he went back to Remus flat and crept back inside.

Remus was asleep, snoring with the quiet wheezing sound of someone with a heavy cold. He'd thrown off some of the blankets and was splayed out, arms tangled in his sheets.

Sirius set the parcel of food and medicines down on the table and crossed to get a good look at his sleeping friend. Remus' face had a thin sheen of sweat across it and his normally pale cheeks were flushed an unnatural pink. Sirius pressed a tentative hand to the man's brow to confirm what he already worried was true; Remus definitely had a fever.

Sirius found a clean dishcloth in the kitchen and soaked it in cool water, wringing it out so it was damp but not dripping. Returning to the bedside, he pressed it against Remus' forehead.

The man shifted in his sleep, making a small moaning sound that near broke Sirius' heart.

“Oh, Moony,” he said softly. “What the hell did Dumbledore have you doing?”

Remus slept on, breathing noisily.

Just as Sirius was turning to busy himself with unpacking some his purchased supplies, there was the sound of someone Apparating outside in the hallway. Sirius grabbed his wand, gripping it tightly as he crept towards the door.

There was a knock. Behind him, Remus stirred and began to cough.

“Remus? It's me, Madam Pomfrey,” the person on the other side of the door called.

Sirius swung open the door, wand still at the ready, to indeed find the Hogwarts matron waiting in the hallway with her medical bag in hand.

“Mr. Black,” she said, sounding surprised. “Professor Dumbledore has asked that I come look in on Mr. Lupin.”

Sirius stepped aside a little to allow the matron to enter the flat. Across the room, Remus struggled to sit up in bed, still sputtering with coughs.

“Madam Pomfrey,” he choked.

“Don't sit up for my sake, lad,” she said, crossing to the bed and gently easing Remus back down into his nest of pillows. “I didn't realize your friends were already looking in on you, but I better take a look just to put the Headmaster's mind at ease.”

“Sirius was just leaving,” Remus said. The coughs had died away and he was lying with his eyes closed, looking utterly spent by the short fit.

Madam Pomfrey looked at Sirius who shrugged and shook his head.

“I'll leave you to it then,” he said.

Grabbing his bag, he went out into the hall but didn't leave. Instead, he stood against the closed door, ears straining to hear.

“How long have you been ill, dear?” Sirius heard the matron ask. Remus' response was muffled, but it sounded like he'd said “a while now.”

“And the others in the pack,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Were any of them ill with the same? Did they use any remedies?”

“Some,” Remus croaked but the rest of his response was lost to coughing. Sirius stumbled, reeling from this revelation. Others in the pack? What pack?

Had Remus been out with other werewolves?

He tried to picture it...their gentle, dry-humoured Moony out in the moors with a pack of feral werewolves who practiced only raw, primal magic and had no love for the Wizarding world. No wonder Remus was acting cagey.

He'd barely wrapped his mind around the idea of it when the flat door opened and Madam Pomfrey emerged.

“Oh, you're still here,” she said. “I was just saying to Remus that it would be ideal to have someone looking in on him, at least for the next day or two so he doesn't have to fix his own meals or potions. Will you be staying, Mr. Black?”

“Yes,” Sirius replied firmly over the sound of Remus' own quiet voice hissing “no” from the bed.

“Good. I've left the potion instructions on the table. Do owl me if you have any questions,” she said before looking back into the flat towards her most frequent patient. “Get some rest, Remus. I'll come by to check in on Tuesday."

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” Sirius said, putting on his most charming grin. “I'll make sure he gets plenty.”

The matron smiled back and patted his shoulder before turning on her heel and apparating away.

“I guess you're stuck with me now, eh Moony?” Sirius said as he stepped back into the flat.

“I'm capable of taking care of myself,” Remus croaked. The flat now smelled strongly of some sort of mentholated balm and Remus was re-tucked back under the covers with a fresh enchanted cooling cloth on his brow.

“Might want to blow your nose then,” Sirius said, picking up a handkerchief from Remus' nightstand and handing it over. “You're leaking.”

Remus grabbed the cloth and pressed it to his nose with a scowl. The action seemed to irritate his red, inflamed nose and he soon was pinching the handkerchief over his nostrils, stifling a painful-sounding sneeze.

Ehh-GHXT!

“Bless,” Sirius said, taking a seat crosslegged at the end of Remus' bed. “Don't hold them in like that or you'll make your head explode.”

“You're going to make my head explode if you don't let me be,” Remus retorted.

“You know, you're normally a much more cheerful invalid than this,” Sirius said, a hint of joking in his voice.

Remus didn't respond but instead rolled over to his side, his face hidden in the pillows.

“Hey...” Sirius said after a moment, touching Remus' leg through the stacks of blankets. “I heard what Pomfrey said. About the pack? Do you want to talk about it?”

Under the quilts, Sirius could see Remus' shoulders rise and fall with a shuddering sigh.

“Moony?” Sirius asked again, scooting further down the bed. His hand found the curve of Remus' back and he settled his palm there, rubbing a small circle. From the nest of pillows came the quiet sound of a muffled sob.

“Talk to me,” Sirius urged gently. Remus head moved with a small shake.

“I can't,” Remus' voice said, tiny and hoarse.

“You can,” Sirius replied. “You always can. I won't tell Dumbledore that I know where he's been sending you. Frankly, I don't know why it's been such a secret all this time.”

Hurh'TSMPHHH!

Remus' body jerked with a sneeze and a moment later, his voice asked “can you pass me a handkerchief?”

Sirius found a clean one on the nightstand and passed it over. Remus emerged from his shield of pillows with the cloth over his face, eyes teary and cheeks flushed. He blew his nose with a very wet gurgle and then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

Sirius looked at him solemnly. He could barely count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Remus cry. When they'd found out about him, of course. And when his mother had died.

And the prank.

And now. What had life been like with these werewolves that had him so upset?

“I'm tired,” Remus said when he'd finally given up trying to clear his nose.

“I know,” Sirius said. “Why don't you rest some more and we'll talk once you've had some rest?”

“You don't have to stay,” Remus murmured, rolling back over.

“You're not getting rid of me now,” Sirius said. “Not now that I have Pomfrey's orders.”

Remus gave a small sound of agreement.

“Can Padfoot stay?” Sirius asked. Sometimes, after particularly painful transformations, the warmth and bulk of the large black dog against Remus' tired body seemed to help. More than once, Sirius had snuck into the hospital wing and curled up under the standard-issue white sheets and scratchy wool blankets to help Remus' recovery.

“Okay,” Remus agreed.

A second later, the shaggy black dog leapt up onto the bed and circled twice before settling down against Remus' hip. The young man heaved a weary sigh and curled a hand through Padfoot's thick fur before he was back to sleep.

 

To be continued...

[Kaze Wo Hiku]

Oh god oh god, my heart it's in my throat. This is soooooo Lupin. I mean everything. I feel for Sirius since he cares and wants to help but also is getting the cold shoulder (heh pun) from his friend.

Ugh Lupin be nice....please.

I love love LOVE sick!Lupin so hard. UNF. Can't wait to see where this goes.

[Spoo]

As always, your Harry Potter writing gives me life. It is FLAWLESS. Everyone is so brilliantly in character, and I'm really loving where the story seems to be going. I know that you just ~adore~ giving Remus a hard time (which, giiiiiirl, is fine with me ) but man, I really feel for the guy here. I'm digging how concerned/fussing Sirius is. Also, this bit? 

40 minutes ago, Dusty15 said:

A few seats down at a spot across the table, James gave a small wave and stuck his tongue out at his friend. Sirius returned the gesture and gave a nod to Lily and Peter.

Stop that. That's cute.  Can't wait to read more!

[Dusty15]

7 minutes ago, Spoo said:

I know that you just ~adore~ giving Remus a hard time (which, giiiiiirl, is fine with me ) but man, I really feel for the guy here.

Yes, yes, I know. I'm terrible when it comes to making poor Remus Lupin suffer. I can't help it! But I promise he'll get some comfort soon. <3 I can imagine this would be SUCH a shitty period of his life (among the many shitty periods....). Out of school without a job, a war on, having to face other werewolves....major suck. 

[RiversD]

Owwww, my heart. Don't stop.

This is everything I could ever ask for in a Remus fic, and that makes me feel absurdly guilty. Poor boy. At least he has Sirius.

They're both being so stubborn and owtheregoesmyheartagain.

Remus' sneezing and general exhaustion are adorable and I just want to wrap him up in a bundle of blankets and snuggle him.

I really like how much thought you've put into the general atmosphere of the First Wizarding War, as well. It's just that shade darker, as it should be. And of course Remus would curse an intruder on sight because if your house is broken into in wartime that's what you do. Sirius, you total plum.

Addendum- that whole bit with Remus crying and not able to talk? How very dare you. My heart may never recover. *re-reads forever*

[queenie]

This makes my heart hurt. All the mistrust and vulnerability-- Remus's obviously, since he's so ill and upset, but Sirius's too, since he's trying so hard to bond. 

[AngelEyes]

Such beautiful pain. My heart. So very Remus and Sirius. Love it!

[lilysneeze]

Tugging at my heartstrings... I always wondered just what had gone on in those few years after school that made Sirius and Remus mistrust each other. For me in this fic captured that dynamic very well, the ambiguity of being close friends once but now not knowing if they can trust each other anymore. I imagine it was Peter's info leaks to the Death Eaters that they didn't who was doing it so there was a lot of finger pointing going around, not to mention that Remus had to run with a werewolf pack so it was easy to assume that that was the source of the leak... ~sigh~ I love Remus so very much, especially in your stories Dusty15!

[Sitruuna]

KFFHTXHNXGCJCGXKBX OMG HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS SOONER

You know sick Remus cuddling dog Sirius has to be one of my fave hp sickfic things.

This is great. Awesome. 

[ID2006]

Soooo sooo sooo perfect

[Dusty15]

And, some more....

---

 

Sirius managed a little bit of sleep as Padfoot, but most of the time he lay curled up against Remus was spent awake, thinking. As Padfoot, his mind was simpler and clearer, with thoughts coming and going more as feelings and images than concrete ideas. He thought about Moony, alone and cold in an unfamiliar place, probably living somewhere that would make the Shrieking Shack look like Versailles.

 

Remus slept soundly at first, clearly exhausted and in need of the rest. But after a while, his breathing was beginning to sound noisier and he started sniffling and sputtering between snores. The sputters turned into small coughs that grew until he was coughing himself awake. He writhed under the sheets, pushing them back as he struggled to sit up. Beside him, Padfoot rose up and with a single fluid motion turned back to Sirius.

 

“Hey,” Sirius said, grabbing Remus' arm and helping to prop him up with a pillow. Remus' chest rattled audibly as he sputtered with the phlegmy coughs. He reached over to his nightstand for a handkerchief and held it to his face, trying to clear his nose but only making a squelching, honking sound instead.

 

“Fucking drowning in this post-nasal stuff,” he murmured as the coughing finally stopped. He blew his nose in one final attempt to clear the congestion and balled up the handkerchief for later laundering.

 

“Pomfrey left something that'll help,” Sirius said. “Just a second.”

 

He untangled himself from the mess of blankets and limbs, crawling over Remus and heading for the kitchen table where the matron had left supplies. He returned carrying a small pot with a lid dotted with holes.

 

“Says just to set a heating charm,” he told Remus, setting the pot down on the nightstand. He tapped it with his wand and said the spell. Almost instantly, the pot began to release a heavy steam.

 

“Humidifier,” Remus said. “Never seen a magical one.”

 

“Smells funny.”

 

“It's just more menthol,” Remus replied, leaning back into the pillows and closing his eyes. “I imagine I'll stink of it for the next week or so.”

 

“Better than stinking of other things,” Sirius quipped. “Did you get some decent rest, at least? You were out for quite a while.”

 

“I think so,” Remus replied wearily. “Still beat but I'll stay up a while and see if that thing does any good.”

 

“D'want something to eat, then?” Sirius asked. “I got some soup, or there's toast?”

 

“Soup?”

 

“Aye, when you were sleeping before, I walked down to MacMurray's. Got some instant soup and a few other things. Didn't know at the time that your personal physician would be stopping by.”

 

“She's not my-”

 

“I'm joking, Moony,” Sirius interrupted. “Relax. What do you want to eat?”

 

“I'm fine, thanks.”

 

“You have to eat, Remus.”

 

“The soup then,” Remus relented. “Just a little bit.”

 

Sirius went to the kitchen area and opened the tin, which was enchanted to be magically warmed when exposed to air. He poured the steaming broth into two bowls, careful to make sure that Remus' had the bulk of the chicken bits for protein.

 

“There,” he said, returning to the bed and handing a bowl over to Remus. “Eat up.”

 

Remus took the bowl with cupped hands and held it close to his face, quietly slurping a few spoonfuls. Sirius sat at the opposite end of the bed, eating his own portion.

 

Hehh...

 

Between slurps, Remus' breath hitched and his eyes widened in panic. With the quick reflexes, Sirius flicked his wand and took hold of Remus' bowl with a spell, just in time to allow the man to turn his head and shield his nose with his shoulder.

 

Hhehh-TSGHTT! Nhhh...hehh'tsh-GSHGXT! Tshh'GHGHTT!

 

Dazed and blinking in the aftermath of the fit, Remus raised his head back up with a thick sniffle and wrinkled his nose.

 

“Thanks,” he said, taking hold of the bowl of soup once more. “That could have been a disaster.”

 

“This is precisely the reason Pomfrey recommended that someone stay,” Sirius teased, releasing the bowl from the levitation spell and returning to his own meal.

 

“Doubt it,” Remus replied, focusing on his soup as if he could see the future in the noodles like tea leaves.

 

“Hey,” Sirius said, grabbing Remus' leg lightly through the piled blankets. “Did Dumbledore send you on a mission to lose your sense of humour or something?”

 

Remus scowled at him over the soup bowl.

 

“Moony,” Sirius urged, setting his empty bowl down on the ground. “Talk to me. You said you would.”

 

With a sigh, Remus put his own bowl down on the nightstand and huffed a few coughs into the crook of his elbow. Lying half propped-up against the stack of pillows, he looked possibly worse than he had a few hours before. His cheeks were still flushed with fever and his nose was red and raw.

 

“There's not much to tell,” he said.

 

“You met other werewolves?” Sirius asked.

 

“I did,” Remus confirmed. “At Dumbledore's request. Not everyone in the Order knows about me, so we've kept it quiet.”

 

“But why from us?” Sirius asked.

 

“I suppose it made it easier,” Remus confessed. “Less explanation.”

 

“We're you're friends, Moony. What I can't understand is why you went alone without telling any of us. And why when you turned back up looking like hell, you wanted nothing to do with us.”

 

“You can't possibly understand this, Pads,” replied Remus earnestly. “And I didn't want to try to explain it.”

 

“Try me,” Sirius challenged. “What about it can't I understand? Tell me what it was like. Were they nice or were they terrible?”

 

Remus looked down at his hands.

 

“Some were nice,” he said softly. “And some weren't. Mostly it made me angry. Angry and sad.”

 

“Sad?”

 

“It took me ages to find them,” Remus began, crossing his arms across his chest and hugging himself tight. “The one pack I was trying to find this time, I mean. They live way out in rural Wales, farther from any town than you can walk in a day. They have what I suppose you could call a camp, but that implies there's some shelter and supplies. They don't have much of either. It's a few lean-tos and fires, and a couple of stolen cots and such.”

 

“What do they do for food?” Sirius asked, his stomach sinking with each new detail.

 

“Hunt for what they can find, at least during the new moons. Mostly rabbits and sometimes they'll get lucky and trap something larger. During the full, they'll take down any prey they're able. They got a few deer while I ran with them, but no men, thankfully.”

 

“How many of them?”

 

“Fifteen in this pack. Ten men, five women.”

 

“And they let you stay with them?” Sirius asked.

 

“After some convincing, yes,” Remus replied. “They weren't very trusting of someone they tracked for twelve kilometres before he noticed them. A wolf that was freshly shaven and smelling of candle-smoke and parchment. At least I didn't have my wand. I locked it in a safety deposit box at a bank in Cardiff.”

 

“You didn't have your wand?” Sirius exclaimed.

 

“I couldn't,” Remus said. “Not if I wanted to earn their trust. It was the first time since I got it at Ollivander's that I've been without it. I don't think I've ever been so scared walking away from somewhere than I was leaving that bank.”

 

“Rightfully so,” Sirius scoffed. “Wandless magic talents aside, I would never!”

 

“I didn't have a choice,” Remus replied, his voice pained. With every word, he was getting hoarser. “They hate wizards, Sirius. And after I spoke to them, I can say that I understand why.”

 

“You can understand why they hate wizards?” Sirius said incredulously. “You're a bloody wizard, Remus!”

 

“I was turned long before I learned magic,” Remus said. “I am only a wizard because of a ridiculous streak of dumb luck granted by the sheer idiotic kindness of Dumbledore. If not for him, I would be them. I would hate us too.”

 

“Were some of them wizards...before?” Sirius asked.

 

“No,” Remus replied. “I've heard about wizards who get turned. They don't usually last very long. If you don't grow up with this, it isn't an adjustment that you can easily make. There are some who can do magic, but it's primitive. Mostly wandless spells for fire and tracking. A few know some healing spells.”

 

“You must've impressed them, then,” Sirius said. “I remember McGonagall saying that your wandless magic was the best she'd ever seen.”

 

“There's a reason for that,” Remus said darkly. “A natural talent, one might say.”

 

“If they hate wizards, why would they align with You-Know-Who?” asked Sirius. “He has all the worst sorts of wizards who especially hate werewolves. If they knew how many of his followers actively campaign for stronger restrictions...”

 

“He's offering free blood,” Remus interrupted. “The chance to hunt openly and ruthlessly. There are those of them who want that. And for the others, he's making empty promises about power and glory. I'm trying to convince them that none of it is true.”

 

He pulled his legs up and hugged his knees to his chest, suddenly looking much younger than his twenty years. Sirius reached out and touched Remus' arm, giving it a gently squeeze.

 

“I'm sure you did convince some of them,” Sirius said. “Who wouldn't trust you?”

 

Remus gave a barking laugh that turned into coughing. When he managed to get it under control, he wiped his mouth and looked at Sirius with a dark expression.

 

“I don't know,” he said. “I don't know who trusts me and who doesn't.”

 

“You're delirious,” Sirius replied.

 

“M'not,” Remus said, stifling a yawn. His voice was barely above a whisper from all the talking.

 

“Do you want to sleep again?” Sirius asked. “You need it.”

 

Remus shook his head.

 

“I don't know if I could. And my head is so congested, I think laying down will make it explode.”

 

Sirius scooted up the bed until he was sitting beside Remus, leaning back against the headboard.

 

“C'mere,” he beckoned, patting the spot in front of him.

 

“What?” Remus asked.

 

“Just trust me, Moony,” Sirius said. “It'll help.”

 

He stretched his legs out and guided Remus to sit between them, leaning back against Sirius' chest. Guiding Remus' head back to loll against his shoulder, Sirius reached up and slid his fingers gently along Remus' sinuses, tracing paths beneath his eyes and across his forehead in long, soothing strokes. Remus' whimpered a little at first with the pressure but was soon relaxing against Sirius' body, letting himself go limp.

 

“Sirius,” he muttered after a few moments, his voice sleepy and hoarse.

 

“Shh,” Sirius urged. “Just relax.”

 

“No, Sirius,” Remus replied, more insistent. His chest began to tremble with rapid shivers of breath and Sirius felt the man's eyebrows furrow beneath his touch.

 

“Oh,” Sirius said, realizing what was about to happen. He released his grip on Remus in time for the man to pitch forward, sneezing openly.

 

Hurh'tsSGHHHH!

 

Remus moaned and covered his nose with his arm, gasping for air as another sneeze built....

 

Hehh....hehh-TSGHTTT!

 

He waited with his nose tucked behind the shield of his arm for several seconds before falling back into Sirius' waiting arms.

 

“Do you need a handkerchief?” Sirius asked.

 

Remus shook his head and sniffled with a thick snort.

 

“Nothing's moving,” he moaned, shutting his eyes and letting Sirius go back to work massaging his swollen sinuses.

 

“Maybe some hot compresses would help,” Sirius suggested.

 

Remus shrugged.

 

“I don't know. What you're doing is helping a bit,” he said. Sirius continued his work, gradually working back to massage Remus' scalp and temples. Before long, Remus was asleep, snoring loudly as he lay reclined against Sirius' chest.

 

Sirius pushed back Remus' fringe and felt his brow, relieved to discover it relatively cool. Whatever potions Madame Pomfrey had given him seemed to be at work.

 

“C'mon then,” he said, gently lifting Remus' head and guiding him down into a stack of pillows, keeping him propped up enough to breathe. Remus stirred a little but didn't wake.

 

Sirius lay down alongside his friend, watching Remus intently as he slept. Suddenly, spending hours in a ditch staking out Death Eater haunts didn't seem so terrible compared to a week in rural Wales with a pack of werewolves. They'd have to compare notes on that later.

 

[lilysneeze]

I love Moony and Padfoot! This was so sweet!