tartanfics

Title: Remembering Italy
Rating: PG
Prompt: # 13 at barefootboys
Word Count: 856
Summary: “Are there some things you’ve forgotten, then?”

August 13^th, 1982

They go north. Sirius spends all his time as Padfoot, both for his safety, and, Remus suspects, so that he doesn’t have to think too hard. They travel the Muggle way, taking trains. Sometimes Remus has to talk them into letting a dog on board.

By night they are deep into Scotland, and Padfoot watches solemnly as Remus pulls a tent out of his rucksack and puts it together without magic. It is very small, but more on the scale of a small flat than a small tent. There is a bed and a tiny kitchen and a bathroom. They are camped on the edges of a forest, trusting to the wilderness to keep them safe.

Remus makes tea and pours two cups. Sirius has to emerge from his doggy appearance some time.

“I remember that. I remember you making tea.”

Sirius’ voice is harsh, he’s lost the smooth way he used to speak, the way he used to dictate the emotions he put into his words. Now everything he speaks is raw and utterly uncensored.

“Are there some things you’ve forgotten, then?”

“Yes.” He pauses and stares at his cup of tea, like he isn’t sure what to do with it. “So Dumbledore believed me, then. And he told you.”

“Drink your tea, Sirius.” Remus’ voice is soft, a little awed. He’s not sure he believes in Sirius’ existence, has spent a year trying to forget him. Certainly never thought he’d see Sirius here.

“I’m so sorry. It was my fault, all my fault.” He trails off, but Remus can almost hear him thinking it. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I should have died. Would have died, anything. Anything but that. Remus sighs, and then wishes he hadn’t. He is so tired of sighing.

“I know. We’ll find Peter, I promise. We’ll do to him what he did to James and Lily. We’ll clear your name.” He’s not sure he can make that promise, but he has to believe in it, because he has to make Sirius believe in it.

“Together?”

“Yes, I think so.”

Sirius drinks his tea. It has grown a little cold, but he can’t remember what tea tastes like warm, so it doesn’t matter. “The first time we kissed—tell me.”

Remus wishes they could put this off. He doesn’t want to stir hope. He’s been disappointed too many times. Somewhere his mind whispers, we tried twice. Third time the charm? But he wants Sirius to remember. Because if Voldemort took those memories, like he took James and Lily, Frank and Alice Longbottom, even Peter, then he’d won.

“It was the summer after fifth year. We were in a hot air balloon with the others, and James’ dad. I kissed you. I didn’t know why.” Remus says this mechanically, almost as if he were reciting facts. He wishes he had photos of that day.

“I remember the balloon,” says Sirius. “It was blue and gold. I remember other things too, but I can’t be sure any more whether they happened or whether I imagined them or dreamed them. You can imagine things, you know, even when you’re around dementors. It’s not happy, because you know it isn’t real, so they can’t take it.”

He sinks onto the bed, setting his teacup down on the cover and watching Remus. “I’m old, Remus.”

“You’re only twenty-two.” Sirius shakes his head, and goes to look at the bookshelf on the other side of the bed. He pulls down The Count of Monte Cristo, and Remus’ breath chokes him, he coughs and sinks down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “God, I used to love that book.”

Sirius almost laughs, pulls the book down and thumbs through it. “At least it wasn’t fifteen years, Remus. At least you didn’t go and marry your cousin. You didn’t, did you?”

“I haven’t any cousins.”

“How can it be that I remember the plot of this stupid book, and I don’t remember what your face looks like when you wake up after a full moon, or what you said after you kissed me? What did you say?”

“Nothing coherent.” Remus drinks his tea like he isn’t sure what else to do, because drinking tea is normal, and nothing else about this situation is. “You’ll remember, Sirius. I’ll help you remember.”

“I do remember. I just don’t remember things that actually happened. I remember us going on holiday to Italy, but I know that didn’t happen. I remember us going to Harry’s second birthday party, too, but the only birthday present I ever gave Harry was for his first. I owe him a birthday present.”

“We’ll get him birthday presents. We’ll get him a birthday present for everyone who should and can’t.” Remus moves forward, coming to Sirius, and pulls him into his arms. Sirius is smaller than Remus remembers, more angular. He used to move with such grace, but he’s lost some of it. Forgotten. “Go take a shower, Sirius. Goodness knows you need it.” Sirius laughs a little.

In the morning, they go south again. Sirius wants to remember Harry’s second birthday party.

Day Fourteen