Marauders - Always - Part One

CLXXXIII: Nipping the Ankles of Dragons

Remus had been sitting in a chair he'd conjured by the fireplace, one knee crossed over the other, reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. Spencer had fallen asleep and Storm sat on a bed, also conjured by Remus, sharpening the blade on his pocket knife carefully. Suddenly Remus had looked up from the Prophet and looked around the room, his nose twitching.

"Alpha?" Storm's voice was low and he sat up right, high alert, one leg lowering off the side of the bed, ready to spring into action. "What is it?"

"I thought I smelled..." Remus paused, letting his voice trail off, his brow furrowed with concern.

Storm sniffed at the air, but he couldn't identify anything unusual that Remus might be picking up on, only typical scents that one might come across at an inn in a village like the one they were in - which Storm found perfectly fascinating, by the by. The whole concept of a wizarding town had really excited him and he'd been asking Remus near to constant questions before Spencer had fallen asleep, at which point they'd gone quiet so as not to disturb him.

Remus shook his head and leaned back in his chair, his mind racing over thoughts. It made sense in some ways that Sirius would be here in Hogsmeade, but to be so bold as to take out a room at the inn? Surely not. It wasn't as though a dog would be able to let out a room, after all, and what other explanation would there by for Sirius - in his dog form or not - to be at the inn in Hogsmeade? Harry was at Hogwarts, sure, but if Sirius was anywhere near by, he'd be staying in the woods or the caves overlooking the village, surely.

Though Remus had brought them by the Shrieking Shack on the way to the inn. Just in case. Just for a quick glance to calm his over-thinking, over-hopeful mind... and there'd been no sign of him there, no light, no sound.

Remus turned back to his paper and, seeing Remus return to relaxation, Strom relaxed, too, and the quiet fffing, fffffing, fffffing of the whetting stone sliding over the sharp edge of the knife shivered through the room.

Until Remus caught the scent again.

He folded the paper this time, got up, and threw the Prophet onto the seat, walking hurriedly to the door. It was stronger now... and he started undoing the locks.

"Where are you going?" Storm asked, and he got to his feet too, pocketing the whetting stone, but keeping the knife out. "What do you smell?"

Remus didn't reply, he just opened the door and stuck his head out, taking a deep breath and smelling --

"Sirius?" Remus could barely breathe the name, could scarcely believe his eyes. And then his husband - in full human form - came lunging down the corridor, his arms wide, and threw himself at Remus Lupin. Or tried to. He was mid-way when Storm caught him by the back of the shirt and lifted him clear off the ground near to a foot from the floor, Sirius's legs and arms flailing wildly as he spun rather comically, dangling there from Storm's fist.

Remus's jaw dropped in surprise.

Sirius was kicking and cursing and Storm raised his pocket knife, and Remus snapped to himself with the flash of the silver blade. "Hey, hey, hey! Enough! Put him down." Storm hesitated and Remus glared, "Now."

Storm lowered his fist and Sirius's feet touched the carpet, though Storm didn't fully let go of the back of his shirt, and Sirius tore out of his fist roughly, glaring. "Unhand me!" He'd had enough manhandling in his time, and the forceful grip reminded him rather unceremoniously of the night he'd been arrested... "Who the fuck are you?" He looked to Remus, "Who the fuck is this?"

"Storm," they both answered at once. Sirius motioned with his hands to indicate this was not explanation enough and Remus glanced around the corridor nervously, "Come in our room and I'll explain."