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remix_reduxTitle: The Fallacy of Hirsuteness (The Howard Hughes Jr Remix)
Author:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gunderpants
Summary: Remus Lupin must resort to drastic measures when his friend's self-imposed exile takes a turn for the ludicrous.
Rating: PG for language
Fandom: Harry Potter
Warnings: With this fic, I focused less on the romance that was in the original and more on the premise of the story itself. So I apologise sincerely if this story is less shippy than the original, but you will find a few nods towards Remus/Sirius in the story. Also, this fic is extremely cracky. So be warned for that.
Spoilers: OotP, one or two events in HBP (which aren't explicitly indicated)
Title, Author and URL of original story: "The Fallacy of Loneliness", bylupinslittlesis; http://community.livejournal.com/remusxsirius/1406292.html
Remus Lupin was quite used to Molly Weasley's fabulously alarmist attitude by now. Whether it be those scruffy-looking Muggle kids next door that were 'bound to be up to no good', or a house-elf head looking at her the wrong way, Molly could always be counted upon to provide spectacular overreaction to the little things in life.
That morning was no exception. "He's been in there all morning, Remus, and he hasn't had breakfast or spoken to anyone."
True, it wasn't the first time that Sirius had put himself into voluntary exile whenever he was trying to make a valid point, or whenever he was feeling a little pissy. But Remus was sure that a few hours without food wasn't going to kill Sirius. "Did anything happen before that to set him off?"
"Nothing, I suppose. I mean, it was just a little disagreement we had--"
"Say no more." Remus braced himself with a quick sip of tea, and summoned a clean plate out of the cupboard. "I'll go up and see what's bothering him."
"I'll toast you some sandwiches," Molly said, busying herself in a cupboard as she searched for a loaf of bread. "Does he like cheese and tomato?"
"What? Er, yes, I suppose."
"And there's some chicken soup in the pot over the fire too, take some of that."
"Will do."
"And would he like pie, by any chance? Because I baked a few this morning, and he always did like key lime--"
"I'm sure that whatever you said to him wasn't bad enough to go that far, Molly."
All the same, Molly blushed a little with shame, and after bundling up Remus' food into a hamper she shooed him upstairs to Sirius' room. "Apologise to him for me, will you? I know that you can probably get through to him better than I can," she said, averting her eyes from Remus.
It was the first time Molly had actually acknowledged, in some form or another, their relationship, and despite the mawkishness Remus was a little grateful of the fact. "I'll try my hardest," he said.
Remus had a fair idea of what to expect from his previous experience with Sirius' antisocial tantrums. A few hours into the fit would be the roughest patch, given that he was still probably stewing in his rage. Remus tentatively knocked on the door to Sirius' room.
"It's just me," Remus said, upon arbitrarily deciding that Sirius' silence indicated consent to continue. "I've brought you something to eat."
There was no response - which was as much as Remus expected. "All right. I'm coming in."
Not surprisingly, the door was locked, which was a minor setback that Remus had already accounted for. "Alohomora! You've got to do better than that, Sirius," he called out, pushing the door open with his knee and peering into the room. "I... oh, for the love of--"
Remus honestly felt that Sirius was just being histrionic at this point, because a normal, sane person wouldn't feel the need to put a growing spell on his nails and hair to get sympathy. His usually neat beard hung like a growth of lichen down to his chest, and he smelled vaguely more homeless than he normally did. He was even wearing his Azkaban robes for effect. Remus thought he looked thoroughly ridiculous, and voiced his opinion with words to that effect.
"Yeah, well, what do you know? Doesn't matter, given that nobody wants to talk to me."
"I want to talk to you," Remus said, still on the threshold to Sirius' room and eagerly awaiting being let in. "See? I even brought you lunch."
"Out of guilt."
"Come now, Sirius. You need to eat. Molly even baked you a pie, see?"
"Because she felt guilty."
Remus crossed the threshold into Sirius' room, and took the liberty of setting down the hamper on an old mahogany desk. "Well, I'm going to leave these here, all right? When you want to talk to me, I'm here for you, all right?"
"Whatever," Sirius grunted, as Remus left the bedroom.
***
"I'll tell you what you've got to do: you need to pin him down and slap him with a wet towel, or something. It's funny and all, plus it gets the point across."
Remus Lupin stared at Nymphadora Tonks in horror. "Your family really is that violent and evil, isn't it?"
"What?" She scraped her plate clean with her fork, and sucked the remainder of the key lime pie off the prongs. "I'm just saying that knowing my family, the only way to get through to them when they're in a funk is to resort to violence, or childish name-calling. Either is good, but used together? Extremely effective."
"Whatever happened to compassion, or sympathy, or understanding?"
"Don't waste any of them on a member of the Black family. You're better off slamming your fingers in car doors."
Remus sighed. It was the day after Sirius had locked himself in seclusion, and the sole bit of comfort for Remus was the knowledge that Sirius had at least eaten the food in the hamper, so he obviously wasn't rotting away in a corner, at least. "I can't blame him for how he feels, Tonks. He feels... I don't know, isolated, and left out, and sometimes he really hates Dumbledore for not letting him contribute more to the Order."
"It's 'new boyfriend' syndrome. You don't want to rock the boat and ruin the warm and fuzzy feelings," said Tonks. Remus blushed slightly, and she snorted with laughter. "Yes, you're actually in a relationship with someone. Don't worry, you're not the last person to notice."
"I thought you said you were going to help me. You're just being mean, now."
"Don't get me wrong, Remus," said Tonks, pushing her now-empty plate across the table, "I do feel sorry for him. Honestly, I'd go spare myself if I were in his position. But you need to understand that it's just going to make things worse if you go up there with open arms. He'll act even more sullen because he'll think you're talking down to him. Trust me: if it's one thing we Blacks need, it's bluntness and honesty."
"What, because you're masochists?"
"No, because we're not idiots, and we can tell when people are bullshitting us, and it's going to make us angry and frustrated when we get rubbish excuses from people trying to hurt us."
Remus duly noted this piece of information, though not as well as he probably should have.
***
Remus got the feeling that Sirius was hinting about being hungry, on account of the hamper being left pointedly outside his bedroom. In truth, Remus felt a little resentful that Sirius was still being moody and rude, but he assumed he'd soon get over it. Besides, it'd been almost forty-eight hours by now - surely he had to get over his tantrum at some point.
Remus knocked on Sirius' door with his right hand - his left being preoccupied with the carrying of the hamper. This time, the hamper was laden with a container of shortbread, some ham sandwiches, half a dozen apples, and a couple of bottles of ginger beer to wash it all down - likely because of Remus' preoccupation with Enid Blyton novels. (This was repressed behaviour, due to the fact that in his childhood, nobody had wanted to go on nature rambles or island explorations with him, and as an adult he was damn well going to have his bloody ginger beer to wash it all down, childhood naivety or not.)
This time, Remus was shocked to find that Sirius actually opened the door himself. From his bed, granted, with Alohomora, but still better than a kick in the pants. "You seem happier today," said Remus, extremely relieved to see that Sirius had at least bathed and cleaned his (by now) disgustingly long fingernails. He'd still not trimmed his beard, and Remus was sure he could almost see Doxys crawling around in it.
"I suppose," Sirius sighed. "You have washed your hands before coming in here, haven't you?"
"Er... I haven't been rolling around in piles of manure. Did I need to have washed my hands?"
"The germs, Remus. This old house is covered in filth. Disgusting, no-good filth that's going to kill me..."
Remus wondered if Sirius had died and was currently being possessed by the lingering spirit of his dead mother. It would have accounted for the sullenness, at any rate. "Er... we cleaned this house, remember? It took us three weeks to do it. Look, I brought you some of Dedalus' shortbread."
"But the germs, Remus--"
"Er... yes. They're dead."
Sirius seemed to take this answer well, and eagerly summoned his hamper over to his lap. "Next time you come in here, you might want to perform a bubble-head charm on yourself."
"Don't worry about me," said Remus, almost glad to see Sirius eating again, "I don't think I'll get sick from you."
"It's not you I'm worried about," Sirius snapped.
Remus thought this would be a most appropriate time to leave. On his way out, he saw a line of jars against the back wall of the bedroom, and Remus almost found himself asking why Sirius needed to keep so much apple juice in his room before he realised with a great deal of horror what the jars actually held.
***
"It's getting really weird, Dumbledore," Remus whispered to the most powerful living wizard at his right. "He's taken to sticking his head in a pensieve and watching that old aerial broomstick battle from the Grindelward war. He's gone mad, I say."
Albus Dumbledore frowned deeply. "I trust that you've been trying to spend time with him."
"Well, I try, but honestly he's so odd these days. He acts like a caged animal, and he's starting to get paranoid. He thinks Kreacher is selling the Order's secrets." Remus shuddered in dismay. "God knows where he gets ideas like that. And whenever I try and explain to him why we haven't been involving him in as many missions of late, he starts accusing me of all kinds of things." Remus shuddered. "And he's taken to wearing tissue boxes on his feet. Don't get me started about that. All I can do is just be nice to him and agree with whatever he says."
"Something must be done," Dumbledore mused.
"You know," said a much younger, more female voice, "I gave you a really good suggestion, based on my decades of experience with the Black family, and have you taken it to heart yet? No."
"Tonks, I'm not going to sit about insulting him until he comes to his senses," said Remus, a little ticked off at Tonks having interrupted their conversation. "Besides, it's not like I'm the easiest person to get along with."
"You don't have to call his mother a whore and spit on her grave - although, having said that, I'm sure Sirius would be quite impressed if you did. But don't encourage his behaviour. Turn it back on him, and make him see how it feels."
"There may be some truth in that, Nymphadora," Dumbledore said. "You know, Remus, it may be worth putting her suggestion to the test."
"And what, drive Sirius further into the deep end by alienating him from the one person who's treating him nicely at the moment?"
"No offence," said Tonks, looking as if she fully intended to cause offence with her next words, "but you're a bit of a pussy."
Remus opened his mouth in shock, and turned to Dumbledore for support. "Albus, you're not going to--"
"She does have a point," said Hogwarts' Headmaster. "You are being a wet blanket about this. Go upstairs and give Sirius what-for."
Remus left that Order meeting half-tempted to make good on his old threat to joining the Death Eaters out of spite.
***
It took Remus until the third day to not give a crap about the food he put in Sirius' hamper. No more lashings of sandwiches or spiffing cakes: he could bloody well eat water crackers and be damn well grateful for the privilege. It would all end that afternoon: the fingernails, the insane paranoia, the guilt-trips, and especially the jars of urine.
"I've brought your food," Remus said in a loud voice on the landing as he knocked on Sirius' door.
This time, Sirius physically opened the door himself. "Remus! Old chum! I'm glad you've come up, I've got something I want to show you."
Sirius had a deranged smile on his face, and he looked as though he hadn't slept for days on end. Remus knew now that things had veered left from 'awry' and had careened into 'batshit' territory. "Sirius, I don't have time to play these games with you."
"But wait!" Sirius swung his door open wide, and Remus' mouth fell open in shock. "It's revolutionary, my friend! I'll be exonerated - nay, I'll be a hero for this!"
Sirius' bedroom had once been home to a grand old king-size bed with four posts and a rich silk tapestry hanging from the frame. Not anymore. Splinters and scraps of silk lined the carpet, and Sirius had somehow magically bound the beams of wood together to form what looked like a giant, rudimentary broomstick.
"Obviously it's only a prototype, but with proper funding and development--"
"Sirius, what have you done?"
Sirius patted his invention proudly. "I call it the 'Spruce Polyjuice', and it's going to revolutionise air travel forever! It'll be the biggest broomstick ever made. Full-size, it'll carry at least a thousand people. Isn't she beautiful?"
Something snapped inside Remus' head. Three whole days of idiocy, passive-aggressiveness, rudeness, melodrama and nonsense, and he was up to his back teeth with his oldest friend. "I think your stupid broomstick is the shittiest invention of all time, and you look like a tit with that plastic bag tied over your beard."
Remus had never seen Sirius look so crestfallen in all his life. "But... I thought you'd be supportive," he whimpered, stroking his creation as if it were a child that Remus had mortally insulted.
"Yeah, well, I'm not. You're an idiot." And with that, Remus raised his wand at Sirius, and cast an immobilising spell on him without delay. Sirius hit the carpet, his mouth wide open in shock and betrayal, as Remus flicked his wand once more and lifted Sirius into the air. "I am sick to death of how rude and irritating you've been all week. Making yourself look more derelict just to get my sympathy indeed. Well you know what? I'm not playing your games anymore."
Sirius' stiff frame almost bumped into a horrified Molly Weasley out on the second floor landing as Remus steered him towards the bathroom. "Terribly sorry, Molly, we're just-- be a dear, and open the bathroom door for me?"
Wordlessly, she opened the door, and hurriedly moved out of the way as Remus pushed Sirius towards the bath. "I don't care if you go on another hunger strike, or decide to kamikaze-crash your stupid broomstick into my bedroom window, but you can grow up and tell people about what's bothering you from now on. Finite!"
And with that, Sirius's body crashed into a bath filled with hot, soapy water. Remus rolled up his robes sleeves, and leaned in to unbutton Sirius' shirt and trousers, and to remove that stupid plastic bag from Sirius' beard. He hadn't really taken into account the fact that wet clothes would be so heavy, but even so he was able to undress Sirius with a minimum of fuss - especially considering that Sirius was being most uncooperative due to his currently immobilised state. He could see Sirius' eyes darting fearfully around the bathroom, hunting for anything, or anyone, that could help him, but Remus grabbed a pair of scissors and an old cut-throat razor from the sink, and shot a dollop of shaving soap out into his hand. Remus briefly lathered Sirius' beard, and without ceremony lopped off the long straggly hair at Sirius' chin. "I'll lift the spell on you on the condition you don't make a fuss or run away," Remus said. "Blink twice if you want me to release you."
Sirius blinked twice, and Remus waved his wand wordlessly. "You know, you're the last person to complain about someone being passive-aggressive," said Sirius, spitting out a bit of shaving soap that had strayed into his mouth.
"But that's not even it, Sirius! I tried to talk to you, but you just ignored me. If you want to be treated like an adult then you ought act like one. Lift up your chin."
Sirius gruffly complied. "You're pulling too hard," he groaned, as Remus tugged at tufts of stray hairs on his chin.
"Stop being such a baby."
"I can shave myself."
"You won't. If you had your way, you'd be in your room being weird again."
"You're just jealous that I came up with the idea of the 'Spruce Polyjuice'."
"What kind of stupid name is that, anyway?" Remus tilted Sirius' chin, and raised the old razor to his cheek. "Besides, how are you going to get that much wood into the air?"
"I don't know, haven't figured it out yet. But it's a solid plan. Ouch! Go against the grain, Remus, not with it!"
"No, you go with the grain because it doesn't irritate your skin as much," said Remus, who had leaned back to examine a now bare patch of Sirius' face. "Looks much better now. More respectable, I feel."
"Was I really being a bit of a berk?" Sirius looked a little remorseful as he turned his head so that Remus could trim his hair.
"Yes. We've all been concerned about you, but frankly I think everyone's been too scared to come up and see if you're all right."
"What," snapped Sirius, "think I'll go mental on them again?"
"Er... you did cover your hands and feet with plastic bags. Not to mention the urine jars." Remus leaned back to examine his handiwork. "A little crooked, but it does look much neater."
"Oh. That. I guess so."
"Your hands, please."
Sirius held out his fingers. "Wow, I really let those babies go, didn't I," he mused as he looked at his disgracefully long fingernails.
"Not for much longer," said Remus, as he drew Sirius' hand closer to his face before snipping off the nail on his index finger. "Did you really think that people would be more sympathetic of you if you looked like an escaped convict?"
"I am an escaped convict."
"Touché. See? All done. You can use your fingers again."
"Thanks," said Sirius, as he ran his hands through his hair. "You missed a spot."
"Your cousin said you might need your arse kicked a little," Remus said gently, as he reached around to snip the stray lock that had been missed the first time. "I dare say that she was right."
"Sorry I was rude to you like that," said Sirius.
Remus knew Sirius was being genuinely contrite. "Apology accepted. And I do know what you're going through."
"I know," said Sirius. "Thanks."
It'd been over fifteen years since Remus and Sirius had fallen out over a personality clash and the fact that neither was particularly good with sharing their feelings: Sirius because he shared too much, and Remus because he shared too little. But it was the first time that day that Remus realised how alike he and Sirius actually were, and suddenly the stupid little things that'd happened over the past few days that'd seemed even funny at first now looked sad and depressing.
Remus Lupin was not a man comfortable with any form of physical expression of affection, even with those closest to him, but to the man in the bath - naked, wet, and still emaciated from his years in prison - Remus found it easy to wrap his arms around, not even caring if his own clothes got wet. "Do you want to talk about it some more?"
Sirius nodded. "How stupid have I been over the past few days?"
"You're not stupid at all," Remus said quietly, as he enjoyed the brief moment of contact, and pressed a firm kiss onto Sirius' cheek. "Dry off, and come into my room, and we can talk about it."
"Can you bring me up some more of that pie?"
Remus smiled. "What the hell. I'll go get you some more pie."
Author:
gunderpantsSummary: Remus Lupin must resort to drastic measures when his friend's self-imposed exile takes a turn for the ludicrous.
Rating: PG for language
Fandom: Harry Potter
Warnings: With this fic, I focused less on the romance that was in the original and more on the premise of the story itself. So I apologise sincerely if this story is less shippy than the original, but you will find a few nods towards Remus/Sirius in the story. Also, this fic is extremely cracky. So be warned for that.
Spoilers: OotP, one or two events in HBP (which aren't explicitly indicated)
Title, Author and URL of original story: "The Fallacy of Loneliness", by
lupinslittlesis; http://community.livejournal.com/remusxsirius/1406292.htmlRemus Lupin was quite used to Molly Weasley's fabulously alarmist attitude by now. Whether it be those scruffy-looking Muggle kids next door that were 'bound to be up to no good', or a house-elf head looking at her the wrong way, Molly could always be counted upon to provide spectacular overreaction to the little things in life.
That morning was no exception. "He's been in there all morning, Remus, and he hasn't had breakfast or spoken to anyone."
True, it wasn't the first time that Sirius had put himself into voluntary exile whenever he was trying to make a valid point, or whenever he was feeling a little pissy. But Remus was sure that a few hours without food wasn't going to kill Sirius. "Did anything happen before that to set him off?"
"Nothing, I suppose. I mean, it was just a little disagreement we had--"
"Say no more." Remus braced himself with a quick sip of tea, and summoned a clean plate out of the cupboard. "I'll go up and see what's bothering him."
"I'll toast you some sandwiches," Molly said, busying herself in a cupboard as she searched for a loaf of bread. "Does he like cheese and tomato?"
"What? Er, yes, I suppose."
"And there's some chicken soup in the pot over the fire too, take some of that."
"Will do."
"And would he like pie, by any chance? Because I baked a few this morning, and he always did like key lime--"
"I'm sure that whatever you said to him wasn't bad enough to go that far, Molly."
All the same, Molly blushed a little with shame, and after bundling up Remus' food into a hamper she shooed him upstairs to Sirius' room. "Apologise to him for me, will you? I know that you can probably get through to him better than I can," she said, averting her eyes from Remus.
It was the first time Molly had actually acknowledged, in some form or another, their relationship, and despite the mawkishness Remus was a little grateful of the fact. "I'll try my hardest," he said.
Remus had a fair idea of what to expect from his previous experience with Sirius' antisocial tantrums. A few hours into the fit would be the roughest patch, given that he was still probably stewing in his rage. Remus tentatively knocked on the door to Sirius' room.
"It's just me," Remus said, upon arbitrarily deciding that Sirius' silence indicated consent to continue. "I've brought you something to eat."
There was no response - which was as much as Remus expected. "All right. I'm coming in."
Not surprisingly, the door was locked, which was a minor setback that Remus had already accounted for. "Alohomora! You've got to do better than that, Sirius," he called out, pushing the door open with his knee and peering into the room. "I... oh, for the love of--"
Remus honestly felt that Sirius was just being histrionic at this point, because a normal, sane person wouldn't feel the need to put a growing spell on his nails and hair to get sympathy. His usually neat beard hung like a growth of lichen down to his chest, and he smelled vaguely more homeless than he normally did. He was even wearing his Azkaban robes for effect. Remus thought he looked thoroughly ridiculous, and voiced his opinion with words to that effect.
"Yeah, well, what do you know? Doesn't matter, given that nobody wants to talk to me."
"I want to talk to you," Remus said, still on the threshold to Sirius' room and eagerly awaiting being let in. "See? I even brought you lunch."
"Out of guilt."
"Come now, Sirius. You need to eat. Molly even baked you a pie, see?"
"Because she felt guilty."
Remus crossed the threshold into Sirius' room, and took the liberty of setting down the hamper on an old mahogany desk. "Well, I'm going to leave these here, all right? When you want to talk to me, I'm here for you, all right?"
"Whatever," Sirius grunted, as Remus left the bedroom.
***
"I'll tell you what you've got to do: you need to pin him down and slap him with a wet towel, or something. It's funny and all, plus it gets the point across."
Remus Lupin stared at Nymphadora Tonks in horror. "Your family really is that violent and evil, isn't it?"
"What?" She scraped her plate clean with her fork, and sucked the remainder of the key lime pie off the prongs. "I'm just saying that knowing my family, the only way to get through to them when they're in a funk is to resort to violence, or childish name-calling. Either is good, but used together? Extremely effective."
"Whatever happened to compassion, or sympathy, or understanding?"
"Don't waste any of them on a member of the Black family. You're better off slamming your fingers in car doors."
Remus sighed. It was the day after Sirius had locked himself in seclusion, and the sole bit of comfort for Remus was the knowledge that Sirius had at least eaten the food in the hamper, so he obviously wasn't rotting away in a corner, at least. "I can't blame him for how he feels, Tonks. He feels... I don't know, isolated, and left out, and sometimes he really hates Dumbledore for not letting him contribute more to the Order."
"It's 'new boyfriend' syndrome. You don't want to rock the boat and ruin the warm and fuzzy feelings," said Tonks. Remus blushed slightly, and she snorted with laughter. "Yes, you're actually in a relationship with someone. Don't worry, you're not the last person to notice."
"I thought you said you were going to help me. You're just being mean, now."
"Don't get me wrong, Remus," said Tonks, pushing her now-empty plate across the table, "I do feel sorry for him. Honestly, I'd go spare myself if I were in his position. But you need to understand that it's just going to make things worse if you go up there with open arms. He'll act even more sullen because he'll think you're talking down to him. Trust me: if it's one thing we Blacks need, it's bluntness and honesty."
"What, because you're masochists?"
"No, because we're not idiots, and we can tell when people are bullshitting us, and it's going to make us angry and frustrated when we get rubbish excuses from people trying to hurt us."
Remus duly noted this piece of information, though not as well as he probably should have.
***
Remus got the feeling that Sirius was hinting about being hungry, on account of the hamper being left pointedly outside his bedroom. In truth, Remus felt a little resentful that Sirius was still being moody and rude, but he assumed he'd soon get over it. Besides, it'd been almost forty-eight hours by now - surely he had to get over his tantrum at some point.
Remus knocked on Sirius' door with his right hand - his left being preoccupied with the carrying of the hamper. This time, the hamper was laden with a container of shortbread, some ham sandwiches, half a dozen apples, and a couple of bottles of ginger beer to wash it all down - likely because of Remus' preoccupation with Enid Blyton novels. (This was repressed behaviour, due to the fact that in his childhood, nobody had wanted to go on nature rambles or island explorations with him, and as an adult he was damn well going to have his bloody ginger beer to wash it all down, childhood naivety or not.)
This time, Remus was shocked to find that Sirius actually opened the door himself. From his bed, granted, with Alohomora, but still better than a kick in the pants. "You seem happier today," said Remus, extremely relieved to see that Sirius had at least bathed and cleaned his (by now) disgustingly long fingernails. He'd still not trimmed his beard, and Remus was sure he could almost see Doxys crawling around in it.
"I suppose," Sirius sighed. "You have washed your hands before coming in here, haven't you?"
"Er... I haven't been rolling around in piles of manure. Did I need to have washed my hands?"
"The germs, Remus. This old house is covered in filth. Disgusting, no-good filth that's going to kill me..."
Remus wondered if Sirius had died and was currently being possessed by the lingering spirit of his dead mother. It would have accounted for the sullenness, at any rate. "Er... we cleaned this house, remember? It took us three weeks to do it. Look, I brought you some of Dedalus' shortbread."
"But the germs, Remus--"
"Er... yes. They're dead."
Sirius seemed to take this answer well, and eagerly summoned his hamper over to his lap. "Next time you come in here, you might want to perform a bubble-head charm on yourself."
"Don't worry about me," said Remus, almost glad to see Sirius eating again, "I don't think I'll get sick from you."
"It's not you I'm worried about," Sirius snapped.
Remus thought this would be a most appropriate time to leave. On his way out, he saw a line of jars against the back wall of the bedroom, and Remus almost found himself asking why Sirius needed to keep so much apple juice in his room before he realised with a great deal of horror what the jars actually held.
***
"It's getting really weird, Dumbledore," Remus whispered to the most powerful living wizard at his right. "He's taken to sticking his head in a pensieve and watching that old aerial broomstick battle from the Grindelward war. He's gone mad, I say."
Albus Dumbledore frowned deeply. "I trust that you've been trying to spend time with him."
"Well, I try, but honestly he's so odd these days. He acts like a caged animal, and he's starting to get paranoid. He thinks Kreacher is selling the Order's secrets." Remus shuddered in dismay. "God knows where he gets ideas like that. And whenever I try and explain to him why we haven't been involving him in as many missions of late, he starts accusing me of all kinds of things." Remus shuddered. "And he's taken to wearing tissue boxes on his feet. Don't get me started about that. All I can do is just be nice to him and agree with whatever he says."
"Something must be done," Dumbledore mused.
"You know," said a much younger, more female voice, "I gave you a really good suggestion, based on my decades of experience with the Black family, and have you taken it to heart yet? No."
"Tonks, I'm not going to sit about insulting him until he comes to his senses," said Remus, a little ticked off at Tonks having interrupted their conversation. "Besides, it's not like I'm the easiest person to get along with."
"You don't have to call his mother a whore and spit on her grave - although, having said that, I'm sure Sirius would be quite impressed if you did. But don't encourage his behaviour. Turn it back on him, and make him see how it feels."
"There may be some truth in that, Nymphadora," Dumbledore said. "You know, Remus, it may be worth putting her suggestion to the test."
"And what, drive Sirius further into the deep end by alienating him from the one person who's treating him nicely at the moment?"
"No offence," said Tonks, looking as if she fully intended to cause offence with her next words, "but you're a bit of a pussy."
Remus opened his mouth in shock, and turned to Dumbledore for support. "Albus, you're not going to--"
"She does have a point," said Hogwarts' Headmaster. "You are being a wet blanket about this. Go upstairs and give Sirius what-for."
Remus left that Order meeting half-tempted to make good on his old threat to joining the Death Eaters out of spite.
***
It took Remus until the third day to not give a crap about the food he put in Sirius' hamper. No more lashings of sandwiches or spiffing cakes: he could bloody well eat water crackers and be damn well grateful for the privilege. It would all end that afternoon: the fingernails, the insane paranoia, the guilt-trips, and especially the jars of urine.
"I've brought your food," Remus said in a loud voice on the landing as he knocked on Sirius' door.
This time, Sirius physically opened the door himself. "Remus! Old chum! I'm glad you've come up, I've got something I want to show you."
Sirius had a deranged smile on his face, and he looked as though he hadn't slept for days on end. Remus knew now that things had veered left from 'awry' and had careened into 'batshit' territory. "Sirius, I don't have time to play these games with you."
"But wait!" Sirius swung his door open wide, and Remus' mouth fell open in shock. "It's revolutionary, my friend! I'll be exonerated - nay, I'll be a hero for this!"
Sirius' bedroom had once been home to a grand old king-size bed with four posts and a rich silk tapestry hanging from the frame. Not anymore. Splinters and scraps of silk lined the carpet, and Sirius had somehow magically bound the beams of wood together to form what looked like a giant, rudimentary broomstick.
"Obviously it's only a prototype, but with proper funding and development--"
"Sirius, what have you done?"
Sirius patted his invention proudly. "I call it the 'Spruce Polyjuice', and it's going to revolutionise air travel forever! It'll be the biggest broomstick ever made. Full-size, it'll carry at least a thousand people. Isn't she beautiful?"
Something snapped inside Remus' head. Three whole days of idiocy, passive-aggressiveness, rudeness, melodrama and nonsense, and he was up to his back teeth with his oldest friend. "I think your stupid broomstick is the shittiest invention of all time, and you look like a tit with that plastic bag tied over your beard."
Remus had never seen Sirius look so crestfallen in all his life. "But... I thought you'd be supportive," he whimpered, stroking his creation as if it were a child that Remus had mortally insulted.
"Yeah, well, I'm not. You're an idiot." And with that, Remus raised his wand at Sirius, and cast an immobilising spell on him without delay. Sirius hit the carpet, his mouth wide open in shock and betrayal, as Remus flicked his wand once more and lifted Sirius into the air. "I am sick to death of how rude and irritating you've been all week. Making yourself look more derelict just to get my sympathy indeed. Well you know what? I'm not playing your games anymore."
Sirius' stiff frame almost bumped into a horrified Molly Weasley out on the second floor landing as Remus steered him towards the bathroom. "Terribly sorry, Molly, we're just-- be a dear, and open the bathroom door for me?"
Wordlessly, she opened the door, and hurriedly moved out of the way as Remus pushed Sirius towards the bath. "I don't care if you go on another hunger strike, or decide to kamikaze-crash your stupid broomstick into my bedroom window, but you can grow up and tell people about what's bothering you from now on. Finite!"
And with that, Sirius's body crashed into a bath filled with hot, soapy water. Remus rolled up his robes sleeves, and leaned in to unbutton Sirius' shirt and trousers, and to remove that stupid plastic bag from Sirius' beard. He hadn't really taken into account the fact that wet clothes would be so heavy, but even so he was able to undress Sirius with a minimum of fuss - especially considering that Sirius was being most uncooperative due to his currently immobilised state. He could see Sirius' eyes darting fearfully around the bathroom, hunting for anything, or anyone, that could help him, but Remus grabbed a pair of scissors and an old cut-throat razor from the sink, and shot a dollop of shaving soap out into his hand. Remus briefly lathered Sirius' beard, and without ceremony lopped off the long straggly hair at Sirius' chin. "I'll lift the spell on you on the condition you don't make a fuss or run away," Remus said. "Blink twice if you want me to release you."
Sirius blinked twice, and Remus waved his wand wordlessly. "You know, you're the last person to complain about someone being passive-aggressive," said Sirius, spitting out a bit of shaving soap that had strayed into his mouth.
"But that's not even it, Sirius! I tried to talk to you, but you just ignored me. If you want to be treated like an adult then you ought act like one. Lift up your chin."
Sirius gruffly complied. "You're pulling too hard," he groaned, as Remus tugged at tufts of stray hairs on his chin.
"Stop being such a baby."
"I can shave myself."
"You won't. If you had your way, you'd be in your room being weird again."
"You're just jealous that I came up with the idea of the 'Spruce Polyjuice'."
"What kind of stupid name is that, anyway?" Remus tilted Sirius' chin, and raised the old razor to his cheek. "Besides, how are you going to get that much wood into the air?"
"I don't know, haven't figured it out yet. But it's a solid plan. Ouch! Go against the grain, Remus, not with it!"
"No, you go with the grain because it doesn't irritate your skin as much," said Remus, who had leaned back to examine a now bare patch of Sirius' face. "Looks much better now. More respectable, I feel."
"Was I really being a bit of a berk?" Sirius looked a little remorseful as he turned his head so that Remus could trim his hair.
"Yes. We've all been concerned about you, but frankly I think everyone's been too scared to come up and see if you're all right."
"What," snapped Sirius, "think I'll go mental on them again?"
"Er... you did cover your hands and feet with plastic bags. Not to mention the urine jars." Remus leaned back to examine his handiwork. "A little crooked, but it does look much neater."
"Oh. That. I guess so."
"Your hands, please."
Sirius held out his fingers. "Wow, I really let those babies go, didn't I," he mused as he looked at his disgracefully long fingernails.
"Not for much longer," said Remus, as he drew Sirius' hand closer to his face before snipping off the nail on his index finger. "Did you really think that people would be more sympathetic of you if you looked like an escaped convict?"
"I am an escaped convict."
"Touché. See? All done. You can use your fingers again."
"Thanks," said Sirius, as he ran his hands through his hair. "You missed a spot."
"Your cousin said you might need your arse kicked a little," Remus said gently, as he reached around to snip the stray lock that had been missed the first time. "I dare say that she was right."
"Sorry I was rude to you like that," said Sirius.
Remus knew Sirius was being genuinely contrite. "Apology accepted. And I do know what you're going through."
"I know," said Sirius. "Thanks."
It'd been over fifteen years since Remus and Sirius had fallen out over a personality clash and the fact that neither was particularly good with sharing their feelings: Sirius because he shared too much, and Remus because he shared too little. But it was the first time that day that Remus realised how alike he and Sirius actually were, and suddenly the stupid little things that'd happened over the past few days that'd seemed even funny at first now looked sad and depressing.
Remus Lupin was not a man comfortable with any form of physical expression of affection, even with those closest to him, but to the man in the bath - naked, wet, and still emaciated from his years in prison - Remus found it easy to wrap his arms around, not even caring if his own clothes got wet. "Do you want to talk about it some more?"
Sirius nodded. "How stupid have I been over the past few days?"
"You're not stupid at all," Remus said quietly, as he enjoyed the brief moment of contact, and pressed a firm kiss onto Sirius' cheek. "Dry off, and come into my room, and we can talk about it."
"Can you bring me up some more of that pie?"
Remus smiled. "What the hell. I'll go get you some more pie."