wolfstar one shots

if sirius got the trial he deserved

"Sirius Orion Black, you are hereby cleared of all charges."

The words sounded throughout the court room. They ricocheted against the walls and rang through his head. His brain felt like it might bleed out from the pressure.

Sirius looked to the stands. His eyes caught Remus' watery hazel ones and he soon found that his own grey ones were pricked with tears too.

He managed to tear his gaze away, scanning the stands once more. To his sheer delight, Snape, who no doubt had turned up in hopes that Sirius was sent to Azkaban, had never looked more constipated. He allowed himself a grin.

His mother wasn't there, but then again she never was. He was glad she wasn't, to be perfectly honest. She wouldn't have been much support and would've preferred if he'd have gone to Azkaban like his dear cousin Bellatrix.

But he's not going. He's a free man.

It's all a blur under the yellow light, the buzz of chatter filling his ears to burst. He needs to get out, clear his head. He just needs to get out.

He stood up from the chair he was sat in and opened the large doors. He carried on down the corridor, not turning to look back. Eventually he came to the exit, which he left swiftly. Once in the blinding November sunshine, he lit a cigarette, the pale smoke providing some clarity.

His other hand was growing colder by the second but he didn't care. He concentrated on the wisps of silver smoke around him, circling in manic dances. It rose into the air and off forever: free. Like him. He was free.

In time a soft, warm hand came to find his own. He didn't even need to look to know who's it was. They reminded silent for a while before Sirius spoke.

"I'm going to ask Dumbledore about Harry."

"I thought you would. He's not going to let us have him, you know. He's bent on this whole fucking 'not being famous'  thing." Remus had done such an amazing impression that Sirius let a smirk cross his cheeks. It was fleeting, for there were more important matters at hand.

"I know, but I'd still like to see him. I owe it to Prongs." It was a quiet, barely audible whisper but Remus still heard. He squeezed his hand tightly, in that moment not wanting to let go.

They remained quiet, watching the bustling of the muggle street canvased by an invisible repellent. A woman in a shocking pink suit and permed blonde hair was flirting rather unsuccessfully with a man at least twenty years her junior. Tourists were pointing at landmarks they could see, big maps held in their hands for navigation.

"What if I just go around Dumbledore?" He asked.

"He'd know."

"I don't give a fuck." The defiance in his voice had found its way back.

"How would you go around him anyway? Talk to Petunia?" Remus questioned, moving closer.

"Yes..." He pondered it for a second. "Come with me. He's as much your godson as he is my own."

Remus coughed, slightly leaning into Sirius' black sleeve. His eyes glanced down at his hands as if racking his brain for a response.

"Of course I'll come." He replied. "I'll go with you in anything"

In any normal conversation that phrase would've gone unnoticed. But this wasn't a normal conversation and that meant so much more. Sirius knew what it meant- I'll always be by your side.

And Remus had. Once Sirius had explained it was Peter, Remus hadn't left him. He was with him every step of the way.

"Thank you. For everything."