"You're being an absolute idiot," Remus Lupin told himself.
It had been a bit better than a week since Regulus Black had died, and things were beginning to slowly return to normal.
It was the first day that Sirius had gone back to working at Gomer's Degnoming, going in to do a special Saturday morning shift with Bilius for a standing contract at a persnickity old woman's estate, and she'd offered Gomer twice the pay if he'd send his workers out immediately, as she was having a garden party next day and awakened to a sudden infestation of gnomes who had taken over rather suddenly. Bilius had flooed up and was positively raving - begging Sirius to please take the job - "We got first pick for the team to go up and if we take it we make double salary on it and it's an all day thing, Sirius, I really need this money, please!"
Remus was glad to see Sirius get dressed and go in to work - it gave him hope that maybe things were just settling down still and they'd get better and Sirius wouldn't fall into the depths of depression that Remus was so worried might overtake his husband.
Thing was, it was a Saturday, so Remus didn't have anything much to do. Peter was working, too, and James and Lily were on their way to Hogsmeade for the weekend to see Oliver Kent's match, so Remus was left to his own devices and he couldn't really recall the last time he'd had a day completely his own to do whatever he wanted with.
He took the city bus because he rather liked sitting and looking out the window and seeing the city pass by, all the colors and shapes and people. Plus his knees were aching quite terribly - the full moon was only a couple days away and he was feeling terribly sore all over. He was determined not to let it stop him having a good day, though, and so he sat on the bus, pressed to the window. A muggle woman with a baby sat next to him at one point and he'd turned to smile at the baby and he talked a bit with the woman while the baby giggled as Remus played peek-a-boo.
He rode with no particular destination and finally he got off and wandered about the streets, ducking down Cecil Court and popping into a couple bookshops before finding himself a cafe that had outdoor seats that were available but empty since the weather was rather dreary and cool, and he ordered himself a cup of hot chocolate and sat looking about.
Remus sipped his chocolate, feeling rather happy actually for the first time in quite some time.
It was from his table at this little cafe that he spotted the small arts supplies shop across the road.
It was there, outside the arts supplies shop, that Remus Lupin had stood and called himself an idiot. Why? Because he had just come out of the shop having spent far too much money on a brand new pad of tan-tone drawing parchment, a package of five graphite pencils of varying point size, a ball of kneaded rubber, a smudge stick, and a pencil sharpener.
He stared into the paper bag the shop assistant had given him in exchange for what amount to nearly an entire galleon, which was more than he and Sirius ought to have been spending at the moment for frivolous items like that, especially since the money was really all Sirius's since Remus had been going to uni rather than working... He walked back to the bus stop feeling guilty.
By the time he'd gotten back to the flat and settled himself into a seat at the table in the kitchen, he'd worked himself into a right state. What if Sirius got upset? He couldn't really imagine Sirius being upset, but then again Sirius got upset at weird things sometimes that Remus wouldn't expect - for example they'd once had a terrific row over the direction the paper tube was turned in the holder in the loo ("the sheets ought to come from over the top not under the roll, we're not animals!"). Remus pulled the contraband out of the bag and spread it out on the table, looking it over. He lifted the plastic case that held the pencils, opened the lid and took a deep breath, smelling the painted wood and graphite inside.
How long had it been since he'd done any drawing? He reckoned it had been quite awhile, he didn't even have any good pencils at the moment and the ones he did have were stubs he could barely wrap his fingers around when the moon settled into his bones.
He lifted up one of the pencils from the case and wrapped his fingers 'round it. He didn't have the flexibility in his fingers that he would have liked, but it was much better than trying to work with the stubs that lay in an old box under the bed. He opened the pad of parchment and leaned over...
"Blimey what a long day, huh?" Bilius groaned as he and Sirius stepped out of Gomer's after their shift, having returned their equipment for the night. "But that'll make for a nice pay. Thanks for coming out, I really didn't want to work with anyone else for such a long shift, the other guys on the team are -- well, they aren't very Sirius-ish."
"Nobody could ever be as Sirius-ish as I can," Sirius answered, grinning. They passed by Fortescue's and Sirius waved to Jasper Odair who was holding open the doorway for a brood of kids heading into the shop. Jasper tipped his paper hat in response. "It felt rather good to be out of the flat anyways," Sirius added, "I haven't been out in a bit so it was good."
"Everything alright? Gomer said you weren't feeling well and that's why you were out."
Sirius nodded, "Yeah, just had a bit of something, but I s'pose I'll be alright."
"Well you know what takes the bit of something's edge right off is a pint or two at the Grindyswallow. What'dya say?"
"I say what're we hanging about here for?" Sirius laughed and the pair of them disapparated to their favorite pub.
The Grindyswallow was busy but they found a table with some of the guys they recognized more by anecdotal experience at the pub than by name - Sirius wasn't sure he could name one of them right if pressed. Sirius took couple quick shots of Firewhiskey before nursing his third one as they stood about laughing and telling rubbish jokes and limericks, which had the whole table shouting uproariously. The music was loud and soon Bilius was competing with it, singing Henry The Eighth as he elbowed Sirius, who harmonized along a bit, and the night got fuzzy about the edges and Sirius felt like himself for the first time in awhile by the time he was leaving the pub, still half-singing some of the drinking songs the blokes had been singing.
He disapparated into the park across from the flat and shook his cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting one up, and laying down on a bench to sober up a bit before he went inside, knowing Remus wouldn't approve of the drinking. But Sirius was fairly certain he was on the mend, so Remus ought to be happy for him, really. He braced his head up with his arm and stared into the sky. It was too overcast to see much of the stars, but he looked in the direction of Regulus anyway and smoked great billowing clouds into the cold air.
"Well Little Brother, I suppose you were right and it didn't much matter if you smoked after all, huh?" Sirius muttered, and he looked at the cigarette in his fingers, then took another long drag.
There was a sound in the dark and Sirius sat up, looking about, slipping his wand out of his hair.
Onied Shafiq - or what was it she'd called herself? Oni Lamm? - walked up, holding two mugs that were steaming in the cold air.
He stared at her as he put out his cigarette.
Oni stepped closer. "I saw you - from the shop. I've been home all week and - I didn't much want to go back to school, after the fight, I felt awful, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about Regulus and wondering how he's doing, with his arm and all, I know it was pretty bad and Peter hasn't been talking to me. I tried to come up to ask but I was scared because of how angry you were and I'm sorry that he told me. I am sorry. I didn't know he hadn't told you. And it's not that we were very close since he left school, he hadn't contacted me again after I made him tell me. I made him, you know, at wand point, and --"
"What's that?" Sirius asked, gesturing to the cups in her hand.
"Sahlab, with orange, cinnamon, and pistachios," she said.
"I don't know the first one but I like all that other stuff..." he said.
Oni walked over and held out the cup to him. "It's hot."
Sirius slipped his wand back into his hair, and reached out to take the cup. He sniffed it, then cheersed her, and took a sip. The stuff inside was incredibly good - creamy and floral and salty from the pistachio crumbled on top - so he pushed over and she sat down nervously next to him. Sirius stared into the cup. "What the hell is this again?" he asked, looking up.
"Sahlab," she answered. "It's an Egyptian recipe."
"It's good."
"Thanks... I made it myself," she answered. "My uncle makes it a bit thinner but I like it more like this... he sells his at the shop."
Sirius nodded slowly. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he'd probably be dragging Remus down to try this, maybe.
"How is he?" Oni asked. Sirius kept his eyes very carefully away from hers, even as she tried to meet his eyes, her brows pinching in concern. "Sirius?"
"He's dead," Sirius said flatly. "Voldemort killed him."
Oni froze completely. Her eyes were wide, and shone with the flood of tears that had come into them so suddenly at his words. The only word to describe her expression was devastation. Her voice was cracked, and her breath shook. "No."
Sirius could feel the emotion in her and he felt bad then for the way he'd delivered the news. He turned to her, "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at - at being -- gentle. You know how the family is."
Oni was crying.
Sirius wish he'd drank a great deal more of the Firewhiskey while he had the chance, he was so not drunk enough to be telling her that Regulus had died, he was barely drunk enough to think about it himself for that matter. He felt his knee start jumping with nervous energy and he quickly took another mouthful of the Sahlab, wishing he was pretty much anywhere else in the world. He wondered absently, too, what the Sahlab would taste like with a warm shot of firewhiskey in it, now that he thought about it, with the cinnamon it might be pretty good.
Oni was still crying.
Sirius took a deep breath, then did the right thing.
He put his arm around her and pulled her into him. She cried all the harder, but she melted against him, and he found himself fleetingly thinking about what might've been. She didn't fit very well against him and he thought that was a rather perfect illustration of what they were: not the right fit, whatever their parents had agreed upon all those years ago.
When Sirius walked into the flat, it was rather late. Peter still wasn't home, but the kitchen light was on so he walked out there, "I'm sorry I was late, I was in the park across the way having a smoke before I came back - those gnomes really knackered us out - and I've just run into --"
Remus was asleep at the table, head down and arm curved around a pad of drawing parchment. Graphite had smeared up his wrist from drawing and there was a bit on his nose, where he must have rubbed his face. The curls at his forehead hung over and his mouth was open just a bit as he breathed, a ball of rubber eraser in his other hand.
Sirius carefully slid the pad out from under Remus's head and turned it to look at the picture.
It was Regulus. It was Regulus looking more like him than any photograph ever could. He was smiling, for one (Regulus always made a very solemn face in the few pictures Sirius had of him), and there was that light in his eyes - bloody hell, how did Moony capture that? Sirius could barely breathe as he stared into his little brother's eyes.