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Let Love In	By : Kimmimaru Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Remus/Sirius Views: 3124 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters or settings by JK Rowling. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
Authors Note: Ah, and so we move on! :D I actually enjoy torturing Sirius and Remus far too much...am I a sadist? Why yes, yes I am! Do I care? Nope, not in the slightest! MWAHAHAH! Please enjoy and keep reviewing! I stayed up all night writing it! lol

Chapter Nineteen: In Hell

When he slept he dreamed. When he woke he screamed. When he recovered he lay against the cold stone wall and gazed into the past with dark eyes. When the Dementors came he was dragged into the icy darkness, kicking and screaming. When feeding time came he stole what he could, taking it into a corner and eating fast before it could be taken away from him. He had no idea why he was trying to survive, but every time he considered giving up he would see Remus' face, that soft smile, that beautiful hair and he would hear that laughter...and he simply couldn't allow himself to curl into a corner and join the other quiet ones...because deep down he still had that tiny flame driving him onwards...he was innocent. He had never betrayed his friends...

Edger watched Black, he was a fascinating young man. He had the face and body of an Adonis, and yet the eyes of a world weary old man...an odd combination. He knew that if the boy was to smile, one of genuine joy, he would probably be beautiful, even with his lank, greasy hair and filthy face. He could do little more than teach him, he wanted this boy, this poor, broken child of war, to survive because he had sins of his own to carry and he had to at least try and help at least one person before Azkaban sucked the last of his life out.

Sirius sat in a dark corner, his eyes unfocussed and his breath coming in short gasps as they vaporized in the air. He was scratching something into the wall with a sharp stone he had found. Edger watched him with a raised eyebrow as he realised he was drawing a picture, a picture of three people...three children. One appeared to have glasses, another held a book in his hands and the third had long hair. Then he saw Sirius pause, a frown darkening his face as he looked up at the three boys...they had eyes, noses and hands...but no mouths. Slowly Sirius looked down at the stone in his hands. "Why won't you smile for me...?" He whispered in a harsh voice. "I-I...I don't know what to do...if you don't smile...I-I can't..." He looked up at the picture. "All I ever wanted was to see you smile." He lifted his hand, pressing it over the face of the boy in the centre, the one with glasses. "When can I ask for your forgiveness..." he said with a shudder wracking his frame.

"Who are they?" Edger asked, coming to sit beside his cell mate. Sirius glanced at him, his eyes glittering oddly.

"They won't smile." He said in that same, dead monotone. "I-I've...forgotten...what they looked like...I can't see him smile!" he shoved fingers into his hair and bowed his head, shaking it quickly. "He won't smile! H-He'll...n-never smile! It's all my fault! Everything is my fault!"

Edger reached out, putting his hand on the boys shoulder. "We all forget eventually." He said slowly.

Sometime later, he had no idea how long, Edger found Sirius gazing up at the drawing, eyes wide and his breathing fast, he had the stone in his shaking fingers, fingers that had once been long and elegant but were now little more than bones. He watched in morbid fascination as Sirius scribbled words all over the picture, he leaned closer and heard him humming in a cracked voice. He read the words slowly, realising they were a lullaby, a muggle lullaby...

**Lullaby and good night

In the sky stars are bright

May the moons silvery beams

Bring you sweet dreams

Close your eyes now and rest

May these hours be blessed

Til the sky's bright with dawn

When you wake with a yawn

Lullaby and good night

You are mothers delight

Ill protect you from harm

And you'll wake in my arms

When he was finished he dropped the stone and gazed up at it, blinking slowly as tears slid down his face. And still, those faces remained...covered in scratches, random snatches of lyrics, furious scribbles of phrases and the names...names repeated over and over until they blurred into nonsense;

...

And one word stood alone...it was written in huge, three foot letters and had become a curiosity to the other inmates. That single word seemed to thrum with a bright energy, surrounded by the dark despair of the prison...the word was powerful...and Edger was fascinated.

LOVE

It was simple, simple and impossibly random. No one understood what it was doing there, they whispered behind hands when they saw Sirius, on his knees before it, gazing up at it like he was praying to some kind of God.

The years passed like a dark blur, Remus wandered the country, sometimes living in hostels, sometimes being able to afford renting a room somewhere. He went from place to place, village to village, town to town, always moving, never staying anywhere long enough to be contacted by anyone. He was lost in swirling darkness, the change wreaked havoc on his body, it had never been so painful as the wolf clawed at his skin, tearing at his body and his screams became lost in the night with his heart. And yet, when he woke in the morning, before he opened his eyes he could almost feel warm arms around him, he could hear the soft whispers of those he loved...

Remus, you'll be alright.

We'll never leave you...

It doesn't matter to us, you're our friend...

Remus, don't forget...

And when he opened his eyes, they were blurred with tears. When he opened his eyes and gazed out at the lonely place he had chosen to change he knew that he would never be able to forget...he would never be able to forget.

Everything Sirius had told him, everything they had shared were lies. Deceitful, evil, fake...Sirius Black...the name made him want to scream in frustration. It made him want to cry. It made him want to turn back time, undo everything...he wanted to take back his heart, his innocence...everything he had ever given to the man, he wanted it back...but he was probably dying in a cold, filthy cell somewhere off the coast of Scotland. He took a savage pleasure in knowing that he was probably being tortured by the draining effects of the Dementors and the memories of James' face.

Sirius lay on his side, his head covered by his arms. He shook violently and closed his eyes so tightly it almost hurt. He dared not open them...because when he opened his eyes he would see him sitting there...sitting in that dark corner opposite him with great big, staring dead eyes. He moaned and curled in on himself, silently begging the vision to go away...he didn't want to see it. He couldn't look into those accusing hazel eyes, the ones with the golden rings, and see the hatred there. He had failed him. He had failed James...he had convinced them...he was as responsible for their deaths as much as Peter was. He shuddered and cracked an eye open, there he was, sitting in the corner, one leg drawn into his chest and an arm resting across it casually. His messy hair stuck up at the back and his glasses were lopsided, he was wearing the same jeans, the same crimson jumper he had died in.

"Do you feel guilty?"

His lips didn't move, but Sirius heard the words as if they had been whispered into his ear. "Y-Yes...Yes...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...please...f-forgive me..."

"You told us to use him, Sirius...You told us to put our trust and hope into a coward."

Sirius flinched and shuffled further into his corner. "I'm sorry." He blinked and when his eyes opened again he sighed in relief as James was gone, but then he felt breath on his cheek and he turned his head so he was gazing into the face of his best friend. James's hands were planted firmly on either side of Sirius' head and he looked sad, impossibly sad.

"You destroyed me."

Sirius felt tears slide down his face as he reached up to his friends face, finger tips hovering just over his cheek. "James..." he croaked. "You're my sun...I revolve around you...remember?"

"Nothing can make me forget."

James leaned down, pressing his forehead against Sirius's so their eyes were close. Sirius couldn't feel it, but he imagined he could...he thought he could feel the brush of that hair against his face...and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Thirteen years old, Sirius Black climbed onto the train with a wince as the bruises from the previous nights beating twinged as he lugged his trunk down the corridor, searching for a free compartment. He found one and threw his trunk on the rack, awaiting his friends. Slowly he lifted his t-shirt to reveal a bruise the size of a Quaffle across his ribs, he hissed air through his teeth and closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the seat.

"Siri-...woah..."

Sirius's eyes snapped open to see James standing there with wide eyes on the bruise. Sirius covered it quickly and tried to assume his usual 'devil may care' attitude...but that look in James' eyes hurt worse than the bruises. He turned away. "It's nothing mate, honestly. I...I-er...fell down the stairs."

James said nothing as he put his trunk in the rack next to Sirius' and sat at his side. He took Sirius' hand and sat there in silence, Sirius felt the warmth of that simple touch and smiled weakly. "Whatever it is, whoever is doing this to you...you can tell me." James said after a long moment. "We're brothers, remember?" He turned his head and looked directly into Sirius' eyes.

Sirius opened his mouth but his throat closed over, as it did every time he tried to tell James what his parents did to him. Instead he smiled, covering the hurt and anguish with a mask. "I'm alright mate." He said and ignored James' worried gaze.

That Christmas Sirius woke, screaming, from a nightmare...he lay in his sweat soaked bed, eyes gazing blankly up at the ceiling before he suddenly sat up, running for the bathroom. James heard the door slam and the distinctive sounds of Sirius throwing up, yet again. He sighed, pulling open his bed curtains and waited. When the sound of flushing came and the noise of running water he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep...the sound of soft feet padding across the floor, the dip in the mattress as weight was put on it...cold air as the blanket was moved back and then a trembling body was pressed into his side, hot breath on his neck. He rolled over, wrapping an arm around Sirius' waist. "Go to sleep." He whispered softly. "You're safe."

When Sirius cried silently on those nights, they never spoke of it. When he woke, usually before James, he would move back into his own bed and pretend to sleep until Remus and Peter woke. But sometimes, he would stay for a while longer, just looking at James' sleeping face...and James would hear him whisper: 'You're my sun...without you...there'd only ever be darkness.' And he would pull Sirius closer to himself.

Of course he remembered. He could never forget it...because James had been his everything...until he had come to terms with his feelings for Remus. He didn't think that he had loved James in anything more than a purely platonic way, but those moments when they had been curled up together in the bed, the sun turning the quiet dormitory a soft rose colour...he thought that perhaps he could have fallen in love with him...just a bit.

Sirius gazed up at the image of his dead friend, the pain and despair so strong it was palatable. He wants to touch him, to pull him into an embrace, to tell him how sorry he is, to force him alive just by wanting it to be so...but the image is already rippling, it's already fading. The last he sees of James is a brief flash of a smile, a smile that says he is still his friend...a smile that sends a violent flash of hope through Sirius...because James doesn't blame him! Because James doesn't hate him! Then it disappears and he falls back into darkness...to be haunted by the other figure that sits in the dark corners of his cell, the other figure that he cannot bring himself to speak to because he knows...he knows this figure will never forgive him.

That dark figure haunts him. He sits silently and gazes at Sirius with pained eyes, he does nothing but sit in the corners, gazing at him and looking as if his world was falling apart. When Sirius met those sad brown eyes he would only remember those same eyes glazed with passion, hair stuck the pale forehead with sweat as he gasped his name, over and over in a litany of love and devotion.

The years passed in a swirl of darkness and Sirius lost himself In it, the screams and rattling bars, the noise of the sea faded into background noise as he was swamped in agonising memories of a woman with dark hair, dark eyes and a face full of fury...of a fist...a belt...pain. Pain. Pain...nonstop pain. Insults, hissed from the shadows...bloodtraitor, filth, useless, stain of dishonour...pathetic...coward...Memories of faceless men and woman, hot flesh, sweat, sticky lips, tongues, groans of desire...soft whispers...gentle fingers...screaming. Terrible screams. Scars. Pain...more pain. A face...a face that shines out of the darkness, but Sirius can no longer remember the name. He doesn't remember the name that he should have been whispering in the dark...he couldn't remember the significance of that face, or the seeming importance that he remember the name.

He comes around in brief, short bouts of full consciousness. Sirius sat up, hand to his head and suddenly the noise that surrounded him doubled in intensity, he almost winced as he gazed into the corridor beyond and heard the terribly familiar sound of Dementors, he crawled towards the bars and looked out to see several of them gliding down the corridor towards him, he watched in trepidation as they approached. He swallowed the terror, pushing aside the memories, now blurred and incomprehensible by his time in the prison. He heard a voice a normal voice that helped him cling to his tenuous sanity, a portly man with what appeared to be a lime green bowler hat in his hands followed the dementors. In his other hand he held a newspaper. Sirius waited for them to approach, trying to stop himself from recoiling like all the others, when the man's cloak passed him, he reached out, grabbing it, making the man jump and squeak.

The man looked down at the prisoner, just like the rest he was filthy, his long hair reaching past his elbows and he was so thin he could have been a skeleton but his eyes...his eyes didn't hold the insanity of most of the other inmates. The man snatched his cloak from those bony fingers, which still had surprising strength in them.

Then the prisoner spoke, voice cracked and roughened from lack of use. "C-can I..." Sirius cleared his throat. "Can I have that?" he asked, nodding towards the paper.

The man looked down at the paper with a frown. Where was the harm in giving the paper to a prisoner? Even if that prisoner was Sirius Black? He shrugged. "Alright..." he handed it over, trying to avoid actually touching him.

Sirius took the news paper with a strained smile, retreating back into the shadows. He flicked the paper and gazed at the headline, he moved his eyes to the date:

29th July 1993

He blinked. That was impossible. He closed his eyes tightly and looked back at the date...no...definitely still the same. With a shake of his head he opened the paper and began reading greedily, taking full advantage of his temporary escape from insanity. He read through the articles, amazed by the speed with which things had progressed, and then he paused. He gazed at a photograph...

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank." The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.

It was not the article that held him still, like a hunting dog...it was the photograph that grabbed him. In the centre of the photograph was a tall, gangly boy and on his shoulder...on his shoulder was a rat. A large, scruffy rat. Sirius felt his heart start to hammer in his chest so violently it was almost as if it was trying to escape his chest, fury seared his blood, making it boil. His hands shook violently so the paper rustled and he took in great gasps of breath. The rat had a missing toe...

He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts.

It became his mantra, he tore the picture from the paper and gazed at it, curled in a corner silver eyes wide and overly bright.

He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts.

He had to get out. He had to get out and finally get his revenge...he hadn't failed James. He could finally...finally get his revenge!

He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts.

Getting past the guards would be difficult...he spent hours with a dark, brooding frown on his face as he tried to work out a way of escape without a wand. Then, when it came to him, his laughter echoed through the deep halls of Azkaban, making prisoners shudder in fear as they realised that somewhere was a more dangerous man then they were. But for Sirius, it was all so blindingly obvious, he had been so stupid! He stopped eating, the other prisoners assumed it was because he had given up, they assumed it was because he had stopped trying to live...how wrong they were.

He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts.

He spent hours, desperation making concentration all that much more difficult. He sat, eyes closed, trying and trying to change his form. He remembered when it had been easy, he remembered how he had loved the wonderful tingle through his body as it shifted into that of an animal, he remembered how he had loved it when he found his emotions shrinking, becoming simpler and easier to deal with...

He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts.

It came to him. One day when the sea crashed against the rocks outside, he found the centre of himself...and that wonderful tingle went up his spine as his shape shifted, it was sticky at first, he spent a few moments worrying if he would be stuck as a gelatinous blob...but then he reformed.

A dog sat in the cell, wagging it's tail happily, it's tongue lolling from its mouth. It's ribs stuck out from its sides and they heaved when it breathed but finally it climbed to its feet, moving towards the bars of the cell...the cell he no longer shared with anyone. Solitary confinement had been granted to him after the death of a fellow inmate, it had been gory and all those he had shared with had been placed in different cells. So now, the dog slid through the bars easily. He padded silently down the corridors, pausing to sniff every now and again, seeking the fresh air...

He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts.

When Dementors passed him, they only glanced back, unable to be sure what they were sensing. The dog slipped by them, unable to really feel their effects. He padded through corridor after corridor, past doors and cells...until finally, finally he found himself standing upon a cliff. He lifted his head, eyes closing as the salty wind whipped around him, tugging playfully at his fur. He felt a surge of joy, it was almost painful in its intensity and he threw his head back, howling loudly. With a last bark he leapt...

The sea swamped him, filling his eyes, ears and throat...he rose, he went under the next wave...his legs worked furiously as he swam. Desperately he struggled through the dark waves as they crashed into him, dragging him under, he ached, his breath came in wheezy gasps but he kept going...

He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts. He's at Hogwarts.

He felt his body tiring; it was too fast...he had to keep going. The sea dragged him beneath it, drowning him...yanking his body beneath its surface...

** Brahms Lullaby
- 18
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