Shelter • wolfstar au

25 ; obliviate

Chapter Twenty five: Obliviate

Remus stood outside Sirius's room, while his friend, Marlene, tended to him. Several minutes later she came out of the door and asked, "Where's the kitchen?" He showed her the direction and she left.

After a moment's hesitation, Remus pushed the door open and entered. Immediately, a pungent smell hit his nostrils and he recoiled, pressing his hand over his nose. Sirius lay on the bed with his head rested on the headboard, and several small bottles with brightly coloured liquids stood on the bedside table. He was drinking from one of them.

Remus went over and pulled a chair near the bed, before sitting down. There was a large cut on the side of Sirius's arm, and a frown appeared on his face. He didn't remember Santa Paws cutting his arm. He had only collapsed back on the ground after a spell had hit him. But then Remus was no wizard - what did he know about spells?

"You're wounded," he said quietly, his eyebrows curling into a frown, and Sirius looked over at him, face impassive.

"Wow, why didn't I notice that?"

Remus bit back any retort and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. As much as he was mad at Sirius, he couldn't find himself holding his anger now. He looked at Sirius, but instead of seeing the man who had intruded in his life, he saw someone who was in the midst of a war, who has lost people. Was it his family? Friends? Was roaming the streets as a dog the only way he could think of to cope with his loss?

"Sirius -" he began, but was cut off when the door opened and Marlene entered, holding a pitcher of lemon juice in her hands. She poured some of it on a glass and turned to Remus.

"I'm going to stay here today," she said with bitter iciness edged in her tone, "because of your warm and amazing hospitality towards my friend. We're in the middle of a war and I really appreciate what you did for him."

Remus didn't protest but allowed the shame to wash over him. It was true, wasn't it? He had been rude, no, he had been cruel to Sirius. He had never experienced any war, but he knew how life changing they were. Surely he could have shown a bit gratefulness toward him. He had, after all, agreed to stay with him to protect him from the death eaters. He had no reason to do that, least of all, for a muggle.

His gaze drifted over to Sirius, hoping, slightly, that he would defend him. But of course he didn't. Why would he? His eyes were closed and Remus thought he was asleep. That is, until he spoke up, his voice sounding tired and low.

"You don't have to stay, Marls. I'll be fine."

She ignored his statement as she sat down beside him, handing over the glass of juice to him. "Drink this," she said, and he accepted.

Remus left the room and walked into the kitchen. He sat down at the table and dropped his head down on his hands, which were rested over the tabletop. As a small sigh escaped his lips, he thought of how his life had spiralled into something different in just a matter of a few days.