The Last Enemy that shall be Destroyed [Sirius]

[moony]

It was one of those crisp, clean November days that deluded you into thinking everything was right in the world. The ground gleamed with the morning's frost, still fresh in the midday sun. Remus could hear it crickle and crackle with his every step, as he made his way down a flat-gray sidewalk, the concrete crumbling with age. The years had not been kind to Godric's Hollow. He could feel the distinct difference, comparing his walk now to the one he used to take some 18 years ago (had it already been so long?), when news of James and Lily's death had been fresh and he'd finally gathered the courage to see where it had all happened himself. Back then, the town had a rustic quality to it. It was quaint...cheerful even, despite the great tragedy that had occurred on its doorstep and he remembered thinking, with an aching sadness, that it had been the perfect place to keep a low profile...
That and to raise a family...

Today, the streets were bare. Remus gave pause, studying an ancient house to his right, its antique door boarded shut, windows blank and hollowed, like the eyes of a ghost. All the houses he'd seen had that very quality... Did anyone even live here, anymore? He wasn't sure. The main square had been desecrated after Voldemort's return. Even now, as he passed the statue that had been erected in Lily and James' honour, he avoided looking too closely. He knew what he would see... The heads had been blasted off, stark destruction etched into the stone and the place where little baby Harry had been, wrapped up in his mother's arms, was now empty, brutally torn away as if to send a message that there was no 'chosen one' to save anyone now. Remus had to duck his head, hurrying on, his jaw drawn tight. He shouldn't have come here... It had only gotten harder with the years, with Harry's...
He breathed in the cold fall breeze and walked on, a lone, shabby figure on the empty road.

Remus had never failed in his yearly visit since he'd first heard of Lily and James' death. It had become a ritual, something he no longer even thought about. November 2nd had become that day. The day where, no matter how busy, no matter how tired, regardless of whether the day before had been a full moon or not, he soldiered his way to Godric's Hollow and spent a lone, solemn hour paying his respects. The ritual had not changed, even with Voldemort's rise and his death eaters running rampant. In fact, Voldemort was the reason Remus had become more adamant than ever to keep the tradition, regardless of the risks. Voldemort had desecrated the Potter's memory, had destroyed the one, living, breathing thing in the world that had proved they had ever existed. He had spat on their graves, destroyed the meaning of their sacrifice- He had turned what had been a tragedy, sad and awful, but meaningful, into nothing but three useless deaths. Remus needed to revisit where it had happened. It was a necessity. It was the sole way he knew, of keeping them alive.

”It's here...”
He came to the end of a winding road and stopped. The house sat gaping in front of him. He reached out to touch post of a rotted, untended fence, his expression drawn into an unreadable mask of mixed emotion.

“It's good to see you again, Prongs...” Remus said, speaking to nothing but air. He gave the house a sad smile, reaching into his pocket to lay a pristine lily on the post. “I hope you're all doing well... Wherever you are.” He patted the old fence, feeling it shudder under his touch and let out a deep breath, as if a conversation to the wind was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

_{Tag: Sirius
words: 651 >> I ramble...
Other: Uh...yeah}

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[SIRIUS ORION BLACK]

There was a tap. It came somewhere from the house. Tap frgging tap. A drop of water kept dripping on the metal surface of the sink. The tapping sound annoyed the crap out of him. No one else heard it. No one else would turn it off expect he. Remus was out. The Grimmauld place was deserted. He closed his eyes. The sound didn't go away. It haunted him. Just like his memories. When ever he closed his, he would see them. Their faces, their smiles. His dreams were filled with screams and the distorted faces of Harry, Lily and James. Sometimes even Remus. It scared the living hell out of him but at the same time it twisted his guts. He couldn't sleep at all. Maybe couple hours in a time but that was it. Since the old house of the Black family was so quiet and alone, the last remaining member of the Black family would often sleep under his own bed in his animagus form. He would curl up in a small corner with the dust and listen the whole house. This time was no different. A big black dog, it's fur all mangy and dusty, curled up alone in the corner. Unable to sleep, unable to think. He simply didn't want to fall asleep. Too many things buzzing in his head. Sirius let out a sigh. The dust bunnies front of him flew away from him. It was a sad picture to watch to be honest. There was nothing great about Sirius' condition at the moment. He had let himself go. If only he could do it literally.

The night seemed to be endless. Sirius eyed the door of his room. Deep inside of him, he was waiting someone to come in. Someone who could save him from all these thoughts. All these memories. He hated being alone. He missed James. He missed Remus. And then there was Harry. There were no one here to make him feel better. The feeling of annoyance suddenly swept over the man. His head rose. He smelled the air. It smelled damp and old wood. Sirius slowly but surely made his way away from under the bed. Mostly because he was sick of the scenario that he had to stare. Clearly, there was no one else coming in from that door. It was clear, that Sirius was alone. And there was no force in the world that could change that fact. So, instead letting himself dwell in that pit of self loath, the man(or the dog at the moment) got up under the bed. He had one thing in his mind and that was alcohol. Even though his cupboards didn't have any, Sirius knew the most best place where he could whiskey. Codric's Hollow.
Yes, he was fully capable to go there, but he wasn't exactly allowed to leave. Anywhere for that matter. But did our reckless hero care about the warnings of getting killed? Nope. He didn't even think twice when he opened the door with his huge paws and stepped out to the bitter air.

Eyes of a man examined the surroundings. He wasn't a free man nor he would just walk these streets without someone acknowledging who he was. So, even though he had transformed quickly back to his human form, Sirius Black had to make sure there were no one who could've seen his arrival. The streets were empty. They were deserted just like Grimmauld place. So, knowing there would be no one at the local pub knowing the dangers if someone recognized his face. Even the pub was empty. It looked as if there had been some sort of a duel. The man grabbed one untouched bottle and gave a curious look at it. It called to Sirius. Drink me it said. And we all know that Mr Black simply couldn't resist. He decided to drink it later when he found a quiet place, when there was no threat nor people to bother him. Again, he changed his form and placed the bottle into his mouth sideways. When he came back to the streets, they were still empty. Perfect.

Suddenly though, his heart suddenly twisted. He was in the town where his best friend lived and got killed. He swallowed a big lump and quickly turned into his dog shape. The thin yet big dog strutted day and into the daylight. It had been so long since Sirius had actually seen daylight. He looked up. The day was nearly perfect. But what surprised Sirius the most was the emptiness of this place. Houses were screaming their emptiness. It was a ghost town. Only the ghosts of the past howling somewhere inside these houses, hoping that some one would set them free. Sirius, jogged with his four legs a bit further in. Knot in his guts told him to go further and further. Even more closer to that painful memory.
He knew exactly what day it was. The man didn't admit it himself, but he was simply too scared to face his past. He was too scared to face the old house of the Potter's. But something, maybe it was his gut, told him to go and see the house. No matter how painful it was. Sirius slowly made his way closer.
And boy, was he surprised to see a person standing there. The dog froze. His mind roared a list of known curse words and maybe couple of his own. His eyes quickly searched for a hiding place. Those four legs of his sprinted behind the corner right before the person could see him. He had taken a risk by coming here, so why not go back? No, no and no. He'd rather take the risk and go back to jail and not be here today.
Slowly, his head peeked around the corner. Instead of panicking some more Sirius found himself sigh from relief. It was just Remus. Mr Black didn't think anymore and swapped from his animagus back to human. Sirius walked away from the corner, opening the whiskey bottle and eyeing Remus as he took a gulp.
" You look terrible, Moony. " Sirius stated out loud and grinned. He wasn't too far away from Remus, but he wasn't too close either. Sirius made sure he didn't come close to the house or see it. Not yet.

{tags} remusss<3
{notes} sorry for the delay Dx
{words} gah, over 1000, I rambled on again T.T

[moony]

It was surprising how quickly the afternoon air just seemed to change. Without quite understanding why, Remus suddenly grew rigid by the rotted fence. Something was...different.
That was the only way to explain it. Something had changed, something was new-
There was something different.

Logic told him he had no proof. Instinct, however, was the better judge in situations like these, or so he had learned over the years. Remus kept perfectly still, resisting the urge to look around. Instead, he kept his attention focused on the dilapidated remains of the Potter house, eyes narrowed, mildly calculating. Somewhere in the distance, dry leaves rustled on black birch branches. The wind whispered. A plastic back skittered across the street. He strained his ears to listen, but still the wind blew, still the leaves shivered and the only new noise he could make out was the far away whirl of a car engine.
These were normal sounds, nothing peculiar, out of the ordinary...
These were the sounds that made up silence.

”So why do I feel like I'm being watched...?”

Remus slipped his hand off the rotted fence. He still refused to turn, shifting his weight as he strained for that invisible sound. Remus' fingers itched. He let his hand trail towards his pocket, towards his wand....
Silence.
Nothing.

The feeling wouldn't go away. He could swear there were eyes on him, but there were no sounds...no scuffle of boots, no shuffle of someone reaching for their wand... He was suddenly beginning to doubt himself, wondering how much of this was all in his head. Maybe he was just being paranoid? Remus knew it was a possibility... Alright. More than a possibility, given the sort of life he'd somehow found himself living over the course of his meager thirty-eight years: He'd spent his school years causing trouble with the the wildest and roughest boys Gryffindor had to offer. He'd graduated from his days as a 'sometimes prefect, occasional rule breaker” into a war that ended up taking the lives of his closest friends. And after all that...
Well, it turned out to all be for nothing. Here he was, living the same half-existence he thought he'd left behind after Gideon and Fabian Prewett had died and the first war took a turn for the worst, forcing them all into a state of hide, hit, run, hit some more, hide again, run, run, run.
He must be losing it... That was all. After all these years, it was just finally catching up to him. He must. Be. Losing it.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts and if it wasn't for Sirius' voice, Remus might have hexed him right there. At least he hadn't imagined it he thought wryly, though judging from the tension in his limbs, paranoia was not to be discounted. He was no less surprised, however, to see Sirius and for a minute Remus regarded his old friend without a word, as if doing some quick mental calculations:

Sirius Black was supposed to be confined to Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Only it was painfully apparent that Sirius was in fact here. With a bottle of whiskey, if he wasn't mistaken.
In broad daylight...

“Padfoot...” Remus said simply, his tone cryptic. It was difficult to tell what was going on in his head, but from the way he seemed to have locked all emotion from his pale, tired face, it was obvious that displeasure was probably first and foremost in his mind. Not that he wasn't happy to see Sirius, but really! What was he doing outside of Number 12? Remus instinctively scanned the street, on the lookout for any signs that someone had taken notice but apparently that was just his paranoia kicking in again. The street was dead. The windows were empty. With no one to witness an escaped prisoner from Azkaban having a bottle of whiskey out on the street, Remus once again turned his attention onto Sirius, only this time his expression was kinder.

“You know you're not supposed to be here...” He muttered, though he found it difficult to get himself to mean it. Sirius didn't take kindly to being confined. Remus didn't think it was good for him, not with what happened to Harry. He was only able to deal with the death of his best friend's son by doing, but what did Sirius have to do all day, but sit and grieve and think? Remus had noticed the change in Sirius. He tried not to look at the bottle, turning instead to face the rotting fence.
How could he not...

“Came to pay your respects?” Remus glanced back at him, eyes still wandering to the street. He seemed to have accepted Sirius' presence outside of Number 12... for now at least. But if Sirius was going to be reckless, then he was going to compensate by keeping care. The minute he spotted the slightest shadow, that was it for Padfoot's jaunt...

(>_O Erm...I apologize if this makes no sense. Writing posts late at night does not equal great prose...)

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