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Logistics


At Dora and Charlus’s insistence after hearing the harrowing tale of what had happened in Cairo, Newt Scamander’s briefcase was kept on the coffee table at the Potter’s house - they were to stay while Newt was still healing from the werewolf attacks.

Remus woke up in the laboratory, on his bed in the room with the Charkorais birds, and lay staring at the ceiling, shivering. He had a funny feeling… like something had woken him up. He looked around the dark, but even the two Charkorais birds were silent. Then his eyes landed on the mirror - on the reflection of Sirius... He was laying face down on the pillows, his hands gripping his head… and, though he was trying at being very, very quiet, he was obviously crying; Remus could hear it, could see his shoulders shaking, could feel it in his heart. This was what had woken him up, he’d sensed Sirius needed him.

Quickly, he rolled out of bed - Burt beginning to peep-peep-peep at the sight of movement. “Shh,” Remus whispered in the general direction of the peeping in the cage, “You’ll wake everyone!” He slipped out of the room and closed the door, tip-toeing across the lab. The Niffler was asleep in her basket, curled up about the shiny gold pocket watch that Professor Veigler had given her for her heroics in the moonstone room. She curled her claws around it and snuffled against it. Remus was very, very careful not to make a sound as he passed by her, climbing up the ladder, and pushing open the briefcase.

The Potter house was silent, pitch dark. Remus drew his wand. “Lumos,” he whispered and he walked very carefully through the living room, down the hallway to the stairs. He took them very slow, not knowing which ones would creak and which ones wouldn’t. He’d only been upstairs in the Potter’s house once and it’d been quite some time ago, but he slipped along the hall, past James’s bedroom door (he could hear what he assumed was Bubo fluffing her wings in there), and stood, biting his lip, staring at the door that he thought was probably Sirius’s.

Very, very gently, he knocked.

It was silent.

Remus backed up, away from the door, suddenly quite nervous that perhaps this was Dora and Charlus’s room… then the door opened and framed in moonlight from the open window was Sirius. Seeing it was Remus in the hall, he held the door opened, stepping out of the way for Remus to come inside. Remus looked around the room as he entered - it had been outfitted in Gryffindor from head to foot, and bore an unmistakable mark of Sirius Black in that his things were strewn everywhere. The impossibly long Gryffindor scarf hung over his bed post, the leather jacket flung over the back of a desk chair… the contents of the trunk, which Dumbledore had rescued from Number 12, were all over the floor, all that remained in the bottom of the trunk was bits of balled up parchment and broken quills.

Remus turned to look at Sirius. His messy, reckless, crazy Sirius. They both just stood there staring at one another for a moment before Sirius walked over and climbed into the bed, patting the mattress beside him for Remus to follow, and he did. It was a small bed, narrower, even, than the ones at Hogwarts so that they didn’t even fit shoulder-to-shoulder but had to lay on their sides, facing one another in order to fit. There was light coming in the open window, a breeze that fluttered the curtains… the smell of magnolias on the air…

Sirius’s eyes were bloodshot and a bit puffy from crying and Remus hated that. Remus leaned closer and kissed Sirius softly. “You were crying,” whispered Remus.

Sirius nodded.

“I heard you in the mirror,” Remus said.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” Sirius murmured.

“I wasn’t really sleeping too well anyway, knowing you were right up here and we weren’t together was agony…” Remus said, studying him a moment, then he asked, “Why’re you crying, Padfoot?”

“I’m afraid,” Sirius admitted, a bit shakily.

Remus pressed his palm to Sirius’s chest. “What of?”

“The election,” Sirius said quietly. He brought his hand up to cover Remus’s, holding it there to his chest, relishing the touch. He stroked Remus’s wrist silently. “I’m afraid of what’ll happen if the wizarding world choses wrong… if Voldemort takes over, if we can’t defeat him… I’m afraid, Moony.”

Remus pressed their foreheads together. “He will be defeated.”

“But if he isn’t?”

“He will.”

Sirius was quiet a long moment. “That night… at Grimmauld Place… Remus, there was… there was a prophecy.”

“A prophecy?”

Sirius nodded. He felt very, very ill, stomach turning very sour. He hadn’t told a soul about what hed heard in the library with Peter, Frank, and Ali. Everytime he’d started to open his mouth to say something to James about it -- the words had caught in his throat.

“A prophecy by who?”

“Mopsus,” said Sirius.

“The divination teacher?” Remus asked, confused. Then, “Sirius, he’s dead.”

“I know. This was… like a spirit… or an apparition. James and Lily saw one, too, James said. In the Divination classroom at Hogwarts. I haven’t told him about the one I saw. But Frank and Alice and Peter all saw it too. Well, part of it…”

“Part of it?”

“I saw James first. A… a figure like James, rather, like a boggart only… only not. It was James, laying dead on the floor. There… there was blood coming out of his mouth, his glasses were broken…” Sirius’s voice shook. He’d seen the image every night since the battle at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, like a haunting.

Remus listened, leaning back so he could look squarely into Sirius’s eyes, his palm pressing harder to Sirius’s heart as he spoke the words, as though trying to protect it from breaking…

“Then Mopsus was there… and this is the part the others saw… I thought he’d taken James’s body for the body was gone, it went up in smoke... and I… I yelled at Mopsus to give it back and then he said the prophecy had been sealed or something like that and James would die at the hand of the Dark Lord.”

Remus didn’t know what to say.

“If Minchum doesn’t win, Rey, I’m scared that prophecy might come true.” Sirius’s voice broke. “He’s my best friend.”

Remus ran his hand over Sirius’s chest gently, Sirius’s hand still on his. “I know he is.”

“I’m just so… fucking… afraid…” Sirius started to cry again - more openly this time. “Of everything, Rey… I’m afraid of what happens if Hogwarts doesn’t open back up next month and I’m afraid if it does, too, without Dumbledore… I’m afraid if I don’t get to go back, if I really am expelled. What happens to the rest of my life if I’m expelled? Do I have to go get a muggle job? What’ll happen to you and I? And… I’m afraid for James’s dad… Rey, he’s dying, you know, but he hasn’t told anyone else. He keeps having firelung attacks and going to St. Mungo’s… He’s got the dragon pox bad, terribly bad, and he won’t tell anyone except bloody Snuffles and I’m the only one that knows. I dunno what to do… I can’t very well tell anyone. And I’m scared for you and for all the bloody gits that wanna hurt you… I’m even scared for my brother and my Mother, as horrible as they’ve been for me… What’re they gonna do without my Father? I mean they’re good financially, I know that, but… but what’ll Voldemort do to them? And Lily, I’m worried about Lily.” Sirius’s tears were great big fat salty things that rolled over his nose and fell onto the bed. “Evans is having a rough go of it with her bloody sister and she’s asked my advice, like I know how to handle shoddy sibling situations! Here I am crying ‘bout my brother and every other ruddy thing in the world and she’s asking me for advice. The nutter!”

“Blimey,” whispered Remus, “No wonder you’re crying. That’s an awful lot to be upset over at once, mate.”

Sirius’s choked, “I know. I can’t stop thinking, I can’t shut my bloody brains off. I wanna feel better, Rey. Make me feel better!”

Remus pushed himself up and leaned over Sirius, staring into his eyes, “It’s going to be alright,” he whispered, his voice thick with love and soothing gentleness. He ran his hands through Sirius’s hair, pushing it away from his face as Sirius rolled onto his back beneath Remus, staring up at into his eyes as the weight of him pressed against his chest, the tears still flowing over his tear-stained cheeks. Remus’s fingers moved through Sirius’s thick mane.

Sirius shivered. It was baffling to him still - a little over eight months since him and Remus had officially gotten together, and still he couldn’t always help from shivering when his fingers brushed his skin… couldn’t help marveling at the idea that someone could put hands on him in a loving manner… He was so used to fierceness and to being misunderstood… to an undeserved brutality… Remus’s gentleness, his hesitation, his soft brushes… they took Sirius’s breath away because he’d never, in all his life, been hugged and kissed and touched in any positive manner… He couldn’t get enough.

He wanted more.

Sirius’s hands slid up Remus’s back, and he scratched gently across the skin as he dragged them back down, making Rey squirm with the sensation of it, and Sirius pulled at him until their bodies pressed together…

Remus had missed this, this feeling of their bodies melting and getting a bit blurry about where the Moony ended and the Padfoot began and vice versa. They’d been like this in the dorm, in the Shrieking Shack, but it seemed like years ago rather than just months. He loved the tangling of their limbs and the way Sirius breathed and seemed vulnerable to the touch. It was a side of him that nobody else ever, ever got to see. Rey treasured it, the way Sirius’s eyelashes looked when his eyes were mostly closed, the sound he made when Remus bit on his lower lip and tugged it gently with his teeth… somewhere between a grunt and a moan… There wasn’t a sound in the world that had the same effect on Remus as that one did. It made him feel wild and powerful in a way that he didn’t usually feel and he kissed Sirius’s neck and felt the muscles moving in his jaw…

Sirius pushed away Remus’s shirt, ran his hands over his scars… their noses brushing...

Remus had never felt so forgiven for being a werewolf as he did when Sirius inspected those scars. It was as though every time he’d ever clawed, bitten, scratched, or gnawed himself raw was healed a little more by each fingerprint Sirius left on the skin. Sirius’s touch burned through his skin, causing every sensation that made him feel like a man, rather than a wolf…

“Rey…” whispered Sirius quietly, breathless, pulling Remus closer… “Why is it no matter what I do, you’re never quite as close as I’d like you to be?” he asked.

“I’m right here,” Remus replied, equally breathless.

“Yeah… exactly. You’re right there…” he shook his head, “Sometimes, I wish that my chest could be opened up like Mr. Scamander’s briefcase… and I wish that I could… could just… keep you in my heart, inside of me… all of the time… then maybe you’d be close enough… I wish we could just.....” his words trailed off without ending the sentence.

Sirius didn’t know how to ask what he wanted to ask. Please, Remus, he thought. Please… understand what I’m saying. Don’t make me find the words for what I want from you.

“Moony,” Sirius whispered, pleading.

Their eyes locked and Remus felt his neck get hot as Sirius’s meaning started to dawn upon him...

Remus sat up, and so did Sirius. Both boys facing one another on the bed, moonlight playing over them - the waning glow bright, but not the sort of bright that made Remus’s skin bubble. The bubbling he felt now had nothing to do with the moon. He licked his lips.

“I dunno how… how it works,” he admitted shakily.

“How what works?” Sirius asked.

“This. Us. That.” Remus said. “There’s… there’s logistics to it. There’s roles to play. There’s… there’s, you know, anatomy to figure out.”

Sirius laughed. “Remus, you’re such a nerd.”

“What?”

“You. You’re a nerd. Here we are, snogging and getting heated, and you go all studenty on me…”

Remus said, blushing, “Well there’s quite a lot to it, isn’t there? It’s complicated. More so for - for us than it would be - you know… regularly. I know where everything goes then… but… you and me… Sirius… stop laughing, it isn’t funny.”

“Your face, though, Moony,” Sirius said, chuckling quietly under his breath, “You’re so… so serious about it… Logistics! You’re trying to make a science out of shagging.”

“Sirius...” Remus’s cheeks burned. Certainly, he’d never, ever turned as red before in his life as he did at that.

“Remus… What I mean to say is that… I love you, and… and can’t we just bloody do it and figure it out as we go along?” Sirius asked.

Remus’s felt his heart race against the insides of his ribs and a panic rose up in him, the sort of panic one might feel as they approach a roller coaster and they’re not positive how fast it’s going to go…

One thing was for sure, though.

Sirius had ripped out the brakes - laying there all shiny-faced and glistening eyed - he was being completely, utterly reckless, as per usual.


And for once, Remus was okay with that.




Miles and miles away… far off in London… at the Ministry for Magic… Harold Minchum sat behind his desk in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Tomorrow, there was the possibility that his desk would be upstairs, in the Minister’s office, sure, but for tonight -- well tonight, he had a glass of firewhiskey before him, half empty, and a file opened on the desk.

Alastor Moody sat across the desk from him, leaning forward, on the very edge of his seat, clutching his own glass of firewhiskey. Moody tapped the image that lay face-up on the file with his thick index finger, “Dunno why more wasn’t done about this… The Egyptian Magical Law office went lax on the chase, I reckon… Allowed it to slip through the cracks… but I investigated his disappearance at Hogwarts myself. Albus investigated it. You can’t bloody convince me them kids were lying ‘bout what they saw, whatever the official records say.”

Harold Minchum stared at the photograph of Adom Tutman.

“But imperiused? And you were told this by First Year students?”

“If it was any other students claiming it, I’d think they were mad, too, but these boys…” Moody shook his head. “These boys are different. They’ve a knack at this sort of business, as they’ve proven the last few years… Fightin’ werewolves and standing against Voldemort himself… They’re not your average kids… They’re creative buggers, they are, but they’re brave as anythin’ -- and I’m willing to put a good amount of gold on their word.”

Minchum returned to the file. “What purpose would Voldemort have had to imperius a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts?”

“Dumbledore reckons Voldemort’s upset he didn’t get the job years ago when he applied, back when Albus first became headmaster. The job’s been cursed; there hasn’t been a teacher last more’n a year in the position since Tom Riddle was turned down. As for what the strategic purpose was… We don’t know. Tutman’s always been a bit of a waffler… I reckon he was probably easy to control… and yet he’s still a powerful wizard. He knows his spell work, and he’s slowly worked his way up through the African Magical Union offices, gone from the bottom up… They had him make mirrors, two way mirrors… to communicate without using the Floo Network after Tutman was commanded to shut it down... Tutman probably had a bigger purpose at the school, but he was caught by the four boys - they call themselves the Marauders, these boys - and since then - since the night they exposed Tutman, Voldemort’s been after them.”

Minchum rubbed his chin. “And do you suppose the imperius is still active on Tutman?”

“Possibly. Probably.”

“Something needs to be done,” Minchum murmured.

Moody growled, “But what?”

Minchum thought for a moment, and then he leaned forward, “Ah, Mr. Moody… the answer is right in front of us!” He reached for his wand, flipping closed the file, and lifting it up. “We need to go and see Barty Crouch right away.”