Shelter • wolfstar au

23 ; avada kedavra

Chapter Twenty Three: Avada Kedavra

7 November, 1982

If Remus had found Sirius good looking, the hilarity of the situation was wiped away the moment he stepped inside his house that evening. Sirius, or rather Santa Paws, lay stretched out at the bottom of the stairs. His anger returned immediately as he thought of how he was being used. He had liked the dog, but it turned out that he was only staying there to escape from the war.

He didn't get any greeting from the dog unlike other days and wondered how much of the happy barking was actually genuine.

He walked past Santa Paws - Sirius - and entered the kitchen, where he pulled out some food from the fridge and prepared them for dinner. He felt exhausted, not only because of his work, but because of everything that was going on with him at the moment.

Several minutes after he began eating, the dog entered the kitchen, yawning widely. He walked over to his bowl but upon seeing that it was empty, he recoiled. Out of the corner of his eyes, Remus saw him staring at him, and in the next moment, he had turned into Sirius.

"I thought staying as a dog would be better for you as you don't have to see my face," he spoke nonchalantly. "But it's not my fault if you can't resist my handsome looks."

Remus ignored him while he fiddled with the food and the cutlery. He couldn't see him but from the sound, it was obvious that Sirius was struggling. Ten minutes later, he sat down across Remus with a plate filled with the food that had remained in excess after Remus had cooked it. He frowned.

"It took you ten minutes to put the food from the pan to the plate?"

Sirius shrugged as he began to cut the beef into small cubes. "I'm not a cooking person."

The dinner passed silently. It always was silent, since Santa Paws wasn't capable of speech, but now the silence seemed to press on the eardrums, as though urging them to speak. Remus had a scowl on his face as he ate, and noticed how Sirius had positioned himself. His elbows were off the table, his back was rigid and he made little to no noise. He had a permanently haughty look on his face, creased slightly by a scowl. It was clear that he was raised in an aristocratic family, though why someone from such a family would roam around the streets as a dog and eat from dustbins, Remus could not figure out.

After a short hesitation, he took a small amount of his food and gave it to Sirius, since he had only a short amount in his plate. He didn't thank him, instead paused for a moment before returning to his food.

Sirius went back to his dog form as soon as he was done eating and settled down on the sofa to sleep. Remus let out a sigh and began to wash the dishes.

Remus awoke the next morning with snowflakes drifting through the air. He smiled involuntarily and pushed open the window to stare outside, reaching his hand out to let the chilly wind brush his fingertips. His mood lifted drastically, and he almost forgot that there was a person at home who had rudely intruded inhis peaceful life.