Chapter Twenty seven: Nightmares

16 November, 1982

A loud shatter echoed through the nursing room and startled the two puppies who were being welcomed to their new home. All eyes wheeled to look at Remus who flushed in embarrassment and bent down to pick up the shards of the bottle that has fallen from his hands.

A piece of cloth was passed to him, which he used to wipe away the medicine which had spilled out of the bottle and was seeping through the thick carpet. As he used a mop to clean up the powders of glass, he suddenly had the strange desire of being able to perform magic and clean up any mess with a simple flick of his wand. Reparo, he remembered Sirius saying it once. He said the word a few times in his mind, as though seriously expecting it to work.

Once he had cleaned up the floor, Adam came over to him with a look of concern on his face. Remus avoided his eyes and kept his face downcast, as he looked through the medicine cabinet for a second bottle. When he found it, he took it to the dog that lay unconscious on the table, having been injected with an anaesthetic.

Jem was the vet of the shelter, but the other workers knew bits and pieces of dog anatomy and how to treat certain diseases too. Remus in no way was a professional, but he had learnt plenty in his four years at the shelter, and therefore usually treated a few dogs whose conditions weren't too serious. As he took some of the medicine into a dropper to be fed to the dog, Adam came beside him and cleared his throat.

"You've been rather sullen lately, Remus," said he, and pursing his lips, Remus turned to look at him.

"I've been having a bad day. No big deal."

"Hm," Adam said, but it was clear from his expression that he would be questioning him more about the matter. He mentally prepared himself for it. "I haven't seen Santa Paws in a while. Why don't you bring him to the shelter?"

"He's - uh - busy."

Adam took it as a joke, for he laughed. "Bring him tomorrow, okay? He can't remain holed up in the house all day."

He nodded his head, rather absently, and went back to treating the ill dog.

The company of the dogs has always been therapeutic for him, and no matter what his mood was, he always felt better whenever he was around them. Lately though, this method didn't seem to be working, leaving Remus in a permanently desolated state from which he couldn't pull himself out. Thoughts of Sirius clouded his mind majority of his time, and frequently he has begun find himself worrying about his condition.

It was quite obvious to Remus that the state of the wizarding world has worsened significantly in just a matter of a few days. Sirius left the house every now and then in response to his pendant heating up, and returned each time with scars and dirt all over his body. But the physical injuries paled in comparison to what was going on inside his mind. He was scarily quiet most of the time, and his health was deteriorating exponentially. Remus had witnessed him talking in his sleep as a result of a nightmare several times, and he was left unsure of what to do - stuck between letting him sleep and face his fears, and waking him up and letting him know that his privacy has been invaded. Given his massive pride, Remus wasn't sure he would take it too well.

It was when Remus opened up one of the cages of the shelter to take a dog out for a walk, that he realised how much he was missing Santa Paws. Sure, he wasn't really a dog and there was a big chance he never cared for him, but he wished to have him once again. His company made him less lonely, and he wished that he had adopted some other dog or none at all. He wondered what his life would have been like in that case.

Sometime during the evening, he returned home to find Sirius passed out on the sofa, the room reeking of cigarette smoke. He hid his annoyance and walked over to him, before pushing him to wake him up. Sirius blinked up at him.

"These can kill you," said Remus flatly, gesturing toward the stubs of cigarettes lying on the floor.

"What do you care?" Sirius groaned and rolled over to turn away from Remus. But he decided not to have any of that, and grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to his feet.

"Dress up. We're going out."

This didn't seem to catch his attention in the very least and he dropped down on the sofa once again, burying his face into the cushion. "I don't want to go anywhere."

"You'll feel better," said Remus, now softly. "Come on. Stop being a lazy arse."

He finally managed to convince Sirius that going out for fresh air would be a good idea, and the latter disinterestedly left the room after letting out an exaggeratedly long sigh. Remus cleaned up the cigarette stubs and ashes from the floor, all the while cursing Sirius internally for being such a useless wizard.

About ten minutes later, they were ready to leave, and Sirius asked, rather reluctantly, "Where are we going?"

"We're going to eat out. I don't feel like cooking."

❇

Sirius wasn't sure what made him agree to drag himself out of the house, but he discovered much to his surprise, that the outside did indeed, make him feel better, although he would never admit it in a million years. For once in months, he was able to breathe in the freedom that came with being able to do do anything to his heart's content without having to worry about dying any given moment. He would have loved to leave his Phoenix pendant behind as well, just to keep himself away from his duties, but regrettably, that wasn't possible.

For now, however, he decided to enjoy his time while he still could. The only problem was the annoying muggle named Remus, who couldn't protect himself, leaving Sirius to take up the duty.

They came upon a restaurant after a twenty minute walk - Sirius couldn't for the life of him figure out why anyone would prefer walking over apparating - and by the time they had reached their destination, he was in a particularly foul mood, causing Remus to order their food on his own after spending five minutes trying fruitlessly to get Sirius to wipe out his scowl and talk.

He remained silent as he watched in amusement Remus's irritation growing each passing second, and how he tapped his fingers on the tabletop irritably. He finally had mercy and decided to speak.

"I came to this place once," he said. The tapping ceased and Remus looked at him in surprise, as though not having expected him to open his mouth at all. "One of my friends was a muggleborn, and she brought us here. Right after graduation. Everyone was stressing over the war and the deaths, and James was stressing over her acceptance to his proposal of marriage, and she decided that we needed to get our minds off of things, even if for a little while."

Remus opened his mouth, thought over, then closed it again. Sirius could tell what he wanted to say.

"They're both dead, yes," he said, surprising even himself at the impassiveness of his voice, though his insides whirled as the word dead repeated itself mercilessly inside him. "They had a son, and I was made the godfather. They were killed by Voldemort himself. One who used to be our friend betrayed them."

Remus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Thankfully, the waiter arrived with the food just then, allowing Remus to avoid saying anything. Sirius mutely loaded up his plate with food and dug in.

"What do they teach you at Hogwarts?" asked Remus when the uncomfortable silence between them has somewhat dispersed.

"Magic," said Sirius, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Remus narrowed his eyes. "So you don't have any subjects or anything?"

"We do," Sirius answered. "We have Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Divination and a bunch of others."

"Divination? As in, future telling? That's possible?" Remus perked up. But Sirius's answer punctured his excitement.

"It's a load of bullshit. It's not accurate. There are a few seers that exist, but their claims are very rarely plausible."

"Oh. It sounded interesting."

There was a pause.

"Where does Voldemort live?"

Sirius looked up at him a frown, suddenly imagining the Dark wizard sleeping, eating, snoring, doing anything normal. It was painful to think about.

"Uh - I don't know?" he answered uncertainly. "Why?"

"Couldn't you just go and blow up his house or something?"

Sirius suddenly burst into a fit of laughter, observing, out of the corner of his eyes, how Remus's face turned a deep scarlet as the people around them began to look their way. When he finally stopped laughing, Remus looked at him with a scowl.

"Did I say something funny?" he demanded.

"You're forgetting, darling, that they are not muggles. They protect themselves from us just like we protect ourselves from them."

"It was just an idea," he muttered quietly in reply.

On their way back home, Remus asked, rather hesitantly, "Do you have nightmares every night?"

Sirius halted and sent a sharp look in his direction. "How do you know I get nightmares?"

"I - uh - heard you mutter in your sleep."

Sirius chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip, then shrugged. "War takes it tolls on people. It's nothing surprising."

Impassive as he had sounded, the oncoming night loomed over him ominously, and despite having had those nightmares for months, he still couldn't get used to them. He never would - never could - get used to watching the dead bodies of the three people he loved the most in the world. There was just no escape.

Unless, he only just realised, unless he slept as Padfoot. The few months he had spent as a dog had been quite peaceful for him, with no nightmares and no worries about dying or watching his loved ones dying. He hit himself internally for not having realised this before, for having tortured himself every night without any reason.

"Adam wants to see you," Remus's voice tore him away from his thoughts, and he turned his head to look at him.

"Who's Adam?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "That man from the shelter. He asked me to bring you tomorrow."

Sirius didn't think twice. "Oh, alright. It won't hurt to visit, I suppose." He paused. "Unless duty calls me; I'll have to go then."

As if on cue, he felt the pendant on his chest warming up. Hastily, he pulled it out and read the words, his shoulders relaxing as he did so.

"Another battle?" Remus asked, a slight anxious tone in his voice.

"No," he answered as he tucked the necklace inside his shirt again. "Just informing me that there's gonna be a meeting tomorrow."

"So you won't be coming to the shelter?"

Sirius thought for a moment. "No. I will. All they do in the meetings is yell at each other. It will be more productive if I play with the dogs."

❇

i edited this while half asleep, sporting a massive headache, and after way past midnight, so excuse me for the lameness of this chapter.