‘Could you try and contact them again, Sir?’
Professor Dumbledore stared thoughtfully at an obviously anxious Sirius over his steepled fingers then sat back and waved towards a hard-backed chair.
‘They will answer in their own time; I would imagine they have a lot to organise at the moment.' The Headmaster watched Sirius pace the floor in front of the fireplace for several seconds then said, 'Do sit down, Mr Black. Wearing a hole in my floor will do nothing to expedite matters.’
Sirius exhaled heavily, but did as he was bid, balancing on the edge of the chair and fidgeting impatiently. He and Professor Dumbledore were waiting for an answer to an earlier Floo to John Lupin, confirming that the Marauders had permission to attend Mrs Lupin’s funeral the next day and double checking the starting time. Sirius had sent his own personal request with the confirmation note, determined Remus would not be by himself.
Sirius checked his watch again. It had only been five minutes since the letter had disappeared into the green flames, but it felt like hours. What the hell was taking so long?
Remus had been gone for three days and already Sirius missed him like he’d been away for a month. He was lonely without Remus and the aching hollow inside him that he only now realised Remus had filled, grew wider and deeper with each passing hour. There had only been one brief contact when Remus had owled Sirius to let him know his mother had passed away just minutes after he’d arrived at the Muggle hospital and asking if his friends would like to attend the funeral. The brunette had slipped the note into his pocket after reading it to James and Peter, and pulled it out to re-read behind his closed curtains at night. He analysed every word of the short missive - Remus’ tightly held control palpable in each neatly written word - and he was surprised by how very much he wanted to be with his friend right now; to hold him and comfort him, even if Remus thought he didn't need him.
Sirius knew that the werewolf would try to go this alone. If there was one thing Sirius Black knew, it was Remus Lupin, and he knew exactly what the other boy would be doing right now. He’d be making sure his father ate, and keeping up with the housework, and seeing that all the relatives had clean sheets and morning tea, and checking that the flowers on the casket were the kind his mother loved the most. What he wouldn’t be doing was eating properly, or sleeping, or thinking about his mother, let alone grieving for her. Remus would be doing what he usually did - looking after everyone else, thinking of everyone else, and neglecting his own needs.
Whether he knew it or not, Remus needed someone to look after him and Sirius only hoped that his friend would let him be the one to do it.
The fireplace flared green and a rolled up cylinder of parchment was spat out onto the stone surround. Sirius, full of nervous energy, was out of his chair before it hit the floor, but Dumbledore gave him a warning look and picked up the scroll himself. He unfurled it, quickly glanced over the parchment then handed it wordlessly to Sirius.
Dear Sirius, James and Peter,
The funeral will be held tomorrow at nine o’clock. Thank you for wanting to pay your respects - mum was very fond of all of you.
Thank you, too, Professor Dumbledore, for allowing my friends to attend and for offering to arrange transport.
Truly,
Remus Lupin
Sirius frowned. The letter was efficient and polite and, even though Remus was both those things, the cool tone of note only made him more concerned about his friend's state of mind...and he had left Sirius’ question unanswered.
He looked up, meeting the Headmaster's clear blue eyes. ‘Professor, what about…?’
Dumbledore held up a smaller tube of parchment. ‘Mr Lupin has enclosed a private message that I assume is for you,' he said, holding out the scroll to Sirius, who snatched it up eagerly and opened it with trembling fingers.
