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Dec. 29th, 2016 01:28 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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small_giftsTitle: The Infinite Loop and Other Travails
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
littlepistols (aka cackling_madly)
Recipient:laroseminuit
Rating: PG
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *gratuitous “borrowing” of Cornish customs, some swearing, terrible grasp of history*
Word count: ~5,700
Summary: Remus and Sirius travel back in time for a mission for the Order of the Phoenix. If only Remus and Sirius knew what, or who, they were looking for...
Notes: Written for the prompt “time travel”, with a bit of the wild card thrown in (depending on how unexpected this character's presence is, I suppose). Thanks to the mods for their patience, understanding, and running this fest again and again! And a huge thank you to by betabrighty18, whose insight was invaluable. That said, any mistakes or wonkiness left are mine. The idea of Montol is a real Cornish custom, just moved it to Rowling's fictional town. I hope you enjoy this laroseminuit!!
Remus looked at Sirius skeptically. The uneasy feeling that began in the pit of his stomach the moment Sirius uttered six little words -- “we’re to go back in time” -- grew along with the manic look of joy in Sirius’ eyes.
“Excuse me?” was all he could think to say.
For his part, Sirius looked utterly convinced that they would, in fact, be going back in time.
“What part didn’t you get, Moony?” he asked, seeming earnestly concerned (which in turn concerned Remus, as Sirius was hardly ever earnest, and rarely concerned).
“The part where were are supposed to do the impossible,” he began. “The part where I just got back from four months… “ He didn’t dare utter “living in a werewolf colony” and instead cleared his throat and gathered his thoughts. “You just got back,” he said instead. “You and James.”
Sirius nodded once, the happy look on his face sobering. It was clear that he was just as unwilling -- unable -- to share details of his last mission with Remus either. “He said it was urgent.”
“And he can’t send someone else?” Remus asked, “someone,” he gestured between them, “who hasn’t just gotten back from a mission?”
“I asked. He said it had to be us.” Sirius in turn pointed to himself, “You,” he said, “and me.” He poked Remus in the chest and grabbed his shoulder, letting his hand linger there a moment before pulling it away.
“Why us?” He couldn’t honestly believe Dumbledore hadn’t felt the tension between them growing the past year, how what they both had to do for the Order had come between them. The last Order meeting alone, they had earned more than a few sideway glances, and Fabian Prewett, the prat, even had the nerve to ask them if they were having a “lover’s quarrel” in front of half the Order. They still technically lived together, they were still officially a couple, but they hadn’t really been what they used to be for longer than Remus cared to remember. The awkwardness between them had become painful to bear.
Sirius shrugged. Then his face began to light up once more as he reached into his shirt and pulled out an antique watch on a chain. Remus’ heart gave a little leap. Though he’d never seen one in person before, he knew at once it was a Time Turner.
The watch, clearly an antique, yet shiny gold, was etched in an intricate overlapping pattern, loops upon loops yet not quite a spiral, and Remus felt that if he began to trace along those lines with a finger, he would be pulled into an endless loop. It was a dizzying feeling and he made himself look away.
“He gave that to you?” he asked, awestruck.
Sirius grinned. He knew Remus well enough to know that he was, in fact, intrigued.
“McKinnon did”, he explained, “or,” he corrected, “she gave me a package, this was in it,” he dangled the time-turner from his hands, shaking it slightly as if ringing a bell, “ along with a letter explaining how to use it.”
Remus couldn’t fathom putting something this special, this dangerous, in a simple package, let alone giving it to Sirius Black. He wondered sometimes if Dumbledore really was mad. “Let me read the letter,” he said, quelling the urge to snatch it out of Sirius’ hands and hide it away for safekeeping.
“Can’t. It, “ Sirius made a hand gesture miming something exploding, “poofed.”
“Well, then - “
“Ah,” Sirius stopped him with a finger to his lips, the surprise he felt at the small touch yet another reminder of how far apart they’d grown. “Old Dumbles knew you’d react this way, so he sent you this.” He retrieved a letter from inside his leather jacket and held it out to Remus. Remus sighed in exasperation and took the envelope, marked “For RJ Lupin’s eyes only”, from Sirius’ finely boned fingers and tore it open.
Dear Remus,
Please forgive me for not being able to explain, in person, what is to be your most important task for the Order. I have chosen you and Mr. Black for this mission because I trust that only the two of you will be able to complete it and retrieve a vital piece of information. I will skip the basics, as I’m sure Sirius has already filled you in on those. This mission will be dangerous and tricky. You are to extract information from an individual. You will know who it is when you see them, and you will know exactly what you need when the time is right. But please, be aware of a few things. As I’m sure Mr. Black has joined you in reading this letter by now,”
Remus looked up to find that Sirius was standing next to him, reading over his shoulder, a look of deep concentration on his face. It was a look he knew well, having practically memorized his boyfriend’s every expression. Remus wondered how he hadn’t noticed Sirius’ close proximity until that moment. He was usually very adept at sensing Sirius wherever he was, and this close, he could feel the heat coming off his body, see the tiny crinkles around his eyes as he scrunched them up just so. It had been a while since they’d been this close, since the night Lily and James announced they were having a baby, and Remus felt the ache in his heart (and, if he was being honest with himself, somewhere much lower) at being this close to Sirius once more. Remus tore his eyes away from the handsome distraction that was Sirius Black and continued on.
“Firstly, it is imperative that you both keep a low profile. This is not your world, and should you find yourself in peril, it may well be mortal. Secondly, you must turn back and, keep track of, the time once you get to your destination. It is imperative that you make your way back to where you started before the time is up so that you may safely return to the present. Make sure Mr. Black handles the time turner as little as possible, keep it on your person but hidden the whole time, and guard it with your life. I suggest you both dress in robes, classic black with no modern embellishments, and please make sure Mr. Black leaves that ragged leather coat of his behind.”
Remus smiled. Dumbledore really did know Sirius all too well.
“The person you seek will give you what you need as long as you are genuine. Be yourselves but reveal who you really are to no one.”
“Hey,” Sirius exclaimed. Remus wasn’t sure if he was protesting the comment about his coat or the time-turner.
“Take great care while on this mission. Find what you need and return with it to me immediately. I will be waiting in my office. The password is Fizzing Whizbees.
Good luck,
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. An owl will arrive with a destination to a portkey once you finish reading this letter.
P.P.S. Watch your eyebrows.”
The letter began to sizzle the moment Remus read the last word and he managed to turn his face away just as it went up in flames and disappeared in a puff of acrid smoke.
“What the fuck?”
He turned to see Sirius, streaks of soot on his face, his eyebrows singed and nearly gone.
“I take it you weren’t finished?” he asked, trying to contain his laughter.
Sirius gave him his most devastating look. Remus bit his lip.
“If you laugh, so help me Merlin, Moony!”
Remus whipped out his wand and began to repair his boyfriend’s eyebrows just as an owl swooped towards them, landed deftly on Sirius’ head, dropped a smaller letter into Remus’ hands, and flew away. He tore it open immediately, Sirius’ dismal eyebrows instantly forgotten. It simply read, “Ottery St. Catchpole, Stoadstead Hill, by the lone willow tree. Single red boot.”
“Fuck!” Sirius exclaimed and Remus looked up to see white droppings sliding down his dark mane.
Remus could hardly be blamed for bursting out in laughter. Still, the thought, the stinging hex he received on his backside, was probably deserved.
---------
They stood in an empty field a few hours later, Sirius holding the smelly shoe in one hand and a slip of paper in the other, Remus’ arm locked with his. They both wore Sirius’ plain black robes, crisp and casual. Though on Remus they hit slightly above the ankle, they would have to do. All of Remus’ robes were patched and holey and not at all inconspicuous.
“Where are we, do you think?” Sirius asked, tossing the boot to the ground in disgust and handing Remus the slip of paper as he looked around. The sun was just beginning to set so the view from their spot on a hill, much like the hill they had just been on but distinctly different, was still quite clear.
Remus did the same, trying to get his bearings. The place was not altogether unfamiliar. It was the opposite, in fact. The view to the town below was much like countless towns in countless places Remus had traveled to in the name of Order business. There was nothing particularly unique about the view, or their surroundings, save for the tall grass in which they stood and the sea salt in the air. It was clear they were somewhere by the coast, somewhere west from where they’d begun, judging by the position of the setting sun, but there were no other glaring clues. At that moment, he wished that Dumbledore weren’t so chronically cryptic.
“You think he could have just said,” Sirius grumbled, walking towards a path that cut through the tall grass.
“Wait,” Remus grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “We have to set the time.”
Sirius watched as he pulled the time turner out from under his robes and looped the long chain over his neck so that they were both wearing the magical contraption. This close, Sirius’ grey eyes shone (like diamonds, he thought, internally groaning even though he knew it was apt) and Remus nearly forgot for a moment what they were about to do.
“Moony,” Sirius gently chided him and Remus realized he’d been staring. “This really isn’t the time.” He’d also been leaning in closer and closer, his eyes fixed on Sirius’ plush pink lips. He looked up to see his want mirrored on his boyfriend’s face. It had been way, way too long. It was clear Sirius thought so, too.
He tore his eyes from Sirius’ and looked down at the slip of paper in his hand. “25 and a quarter turns,” it read.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice trembling with anticipation. He was nervous yet just as intoxicated by the very idea of what they were about to do as Sirius, he was sure. He could feel the thrum of energy, anticipation and expectation between them.
“Ready,” came the soft reply.
He began to twist the time turner, counting each revolution in his head as the world began to shift and change around him...
___________
“We’ve been walking for hours!” Sirius hissed, his thick motorbike boots tromping along the path that had recently become stone.
“It’s been fifteen minutes,” Remus corrected him, wondering how he let those stupid boots get past him. This is what happens when you send a soldier into battle without any rest, he thought to himself, or, more specifically, at Dumbledore. Unlike Sirius, who had been cursing “fuckin’ Dumbles” under his breath since they set off to figure out where they were, Remus was keeping his complaints to himself.
A little while later, just as he was about to finally snap at Sirius, his exasperated boyfriend suddenly stopped and began to chuckle. “That old sod,” he exclaimed as he made a run for a wider road ahead.
Remus ran to catch up and before he could get out his question, it was answered by the appearance of a large wooden sign that read ‘Tinworth’. Of course, Remus thought immediately connecting the dots. It was one of only a handful of partly-wizarding towns and it was located near the northernmost tip of England, by the sea. Remus had visited a few times as a child, his parents searching for a cure for his lycanthropy. There were some very powerful witches and wizards in this town, or there had been when he’d been a child, hiding in plain sight among the Muggles, who were none the wiser. Remus wondered if it was of these people they were supposed to get their information from. Maybe that’s why Dumbledore chose me, he thought.
“So now we’ve got the where,” Sirius commented, breaking him out of his thoughts, “do you reckon we might figure out the when anytime soon?”
“That’s probably easy enough,” he said, pointing to the banners hung around the town’s perimeter.
“Shit,” Sirius exclaimed with glee. “It’s Montol!”
Remus wasn’t familiar with the word, though he thought it sounded Cornish.
“The Winter Solstice Festival, Moony,” Sirius explained, taking Remus’ lack of response for what it was. “I used to come here every year,” he went on, then paused, his face falling, as he added, “with my family.”
“Is this the thing you and James were going on about back in First?” Remus asked. He remembered that first year, just before Christmas hols, and the way the two of them rambled on about all the traditions and revelry they took part in every winter solstice in Tinworth, and how he and Peter, who, like Remus, came from an ordinary family, sat and listened and quietly envied their wealthy, well-traveled mates.
He lit up again slightly as he nodded. “It was probably the only time Regulus and I got along,” he added wistfully, then seemed to shake himself out of his revery. “Seems we’ve got some celebrating to do,” he said, a wicked smile coming across his face.
“Sirius -- “ he warned.
“Don’t worry, Moony,” he said as he took Remus by the hand, then thought better of it and let go. “This is exactly what old Dumbles wants us to do.” He winked, pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, and led the way, Remus following behind.
They made their way to the center of town, where Sirius assured Remus they would find a small but vibrant magical neighbourhood. It was quite easy to access, so easy in fact that Remus wondered how Muggles didn’t accidentally find their way in.
“Oh, apparently, they do,” Sirius answered him, though he hadn’t realised he’d been speaking out loud. “But there’s a Confundus Charm on the doorway, so that they end up going a bit loopy, then eventually wandering back out and never remembering a thing.”
Remus thought it particularly mean but didn’t voice that opinion. Sirius, like James, still tended not to see some magical practices as anything but necessary.
The neighbourhood was bustling, with shops crammed into a long winding lane. There were families roaming, children skipping about, and people stopping to socialize in front of tiny shop windows. There was a quaint charm to it all, along with an oddness to the strange decorations and dark masks many people wore, yet Remus found himself taken by it, so much so it took him longer than he’d ever admit to see the telltale signs that they were, in fact, in another, bygone era.
While the robes the wizards and witches wore were much the same as what he and Sirius had on, though the cloth thicker, the colours muted, the town and people were so oddly reminiscent of old sepia-toned photographs. It made the whole thing feel surreal. Remus didn’t have to guess much longer at the year when they came upon a small boy hawking the latest issue of the Tinworth Daily Press.
“Read all about it! Daring Daylight Robbery at Gringotts! Lone Suspect Gets Away!”
“1899.”
“You always were good with dates,” Sirius remarked as he snatched a paper off the neat stack by the boy’s feet, held it up to Remus then tossed it back.
Something about the date sounded familiar to Remus.
“Oi, Mister! You going to buy that?”
Sirius reached into his pocket and was about to toss the boy a coin when Remus grabbed it out of his hand. “Not today,” he told the boy, and gestured to Sirius to move on. They got lost in the crowd quickly but could hear the boy yelling out, ”Oi! Pe lemmyn!” and ”erbysyas!”
No one paid them much mind as they were swallowed up by the crowd, despite the newsboy’s taunts to pay up (and calling them misers). They managed to make it round the corner and into a less crowded laneway.
“Before you say anything, Moony, I know,” Sirius began, “I forgot, our money’s from the future.” He threw up his hands in mock defeat.
“You know we have to be very careful, Pads,” he chided. Even though he knew it went without saying, he felt he needed to say it. Dumbledore was counting on them and they’d almost blown it with a galleon. From the future. His head hurt just thinking about where they were and what they were in the middle of doing.
“Merlin, Moony, I said I fucking know.”
They were on the verge of an argument, and Remus knew that it was the worst possible moment. He thought briefly of how to step it back, try to defuse the situation. They tended to argue like this lately, for some small thing, but this wasn’t the time. Or time period. Remus turned to Sirius, his mouth opening to apologize when he spotted someone familiar. Ridiculously familiar.
He was so much younger, impossibly younger, most likely younger than he and Sirius were, and though no glasses sat atop his long nose, or long white beard adorned his thin face, the profile and blue eyes were unmistakable.
He was about to say something when he heard Sirius utter, “Merlin’s balls!” under his breath.
They locked eyes for only a brief moment and without a word, they began down the street in unison, following a teenaged Albus Dumbledore down the crowded street. Neither Remus nor Sirius uttered a word, making their way across the village, taking the time to pause and linger when young Albus slowed or stopped to peek into a shop window. He spoke to no one as he strolled through the streets, and it was clear this wasn’t his usual haunt.
“Didn’t he grow up in Godric’s Hollow?” Sirius asked, finally breaking the silence between them that had accompanied them since they began to trail young Albus.
“Here for the celebration?” he guessed.
“Doesn’t look dressed for it,” Sirius commented.
“Well,” Remus countered, “neither do we.”
Sirius gave him a look as if to say, “fair point,” then knocked him on the shoulder. “Look!” he hissed, “where’s he gone?”
“Shit!”
They made their way through the bustle of revellers and to the other side of the street. Remus looked around frantically, panic growing as he searched in vain for the auburn-haired headmaster. “There,” Sirius whispered, pointing discreetly to an alleyway . Remus only caught a glimpse of a dark robe and bright hair, but he trusted Sirius. They quickly followed.
The alley, tucked between two empty shops, was piled up with rubbish. It looked like it had been swept there, off the streets, and it was piled so high that he almost missed the only door.
“See it?” Sirius asked, evidently thinking the same as Remus.
Remus nodded and they squeezed in between the brick walls of the buildings, trying not to topple over the teetering piles of rubbish as they made their way to the door.
“Well, this is interesting,” Sirius commented when they stood in front of the old wooden door. There was no handle or doorknob. No sign or even a hint of hinges. It was evident this was not a door just anyone could walk through. Remus wondered what was on the other side.
“There’s got to be a way in,” Sirius said as he skimmed his hand over the door’s edges. When he found nothing, he pulled out his wand.
“Wait.” Remus grabbed his wrist. He could feel the time-turner, which he’d tucked into his robes, thrumming softly against his chest, and the rapid beat of Sirius’ pulse doing the same against his palm. “What if,” he began, then stopped. He was out of his depth.
“Remus,” Sirius looked at him, his face sober, “this is why we’re here.”
Remus sighed. Sirius was right. It had to be Dumbledore they were meant to get the information from. It was no coincidence that young Albus was in this village on this day at this time. He just couldn’t understand what Dumbledore had forgotten -- or been made to forget, perhaps -- that was so important only he and Sirius could retrieve it.
He gave a tiny nod. Sirius tapped his wand against the door. Nothing happened.
“Maybe I should try,” he said and did the same, trying the usual Revelio to see any spells or charms over the door. There was nothing but a soft glow around the bottom of the door, as if light were spilling from the inside. Soft purple light.
“This is fucking ridiculous!” Sirius gave the door a kick and Remus tried to stop him as he tried again. “Sirius, don’t!” he hissed. What happened next, Remus couldn’t really say, except that as soon as the toe of Sirius’ boot hit the door, it fell away and they stumbled into a tiny alcove, the floor immediately dropped and stopped abruptly just before it hit the ground. Sirius and Remus, tangled together in a heap on the floor, picked themselves up and stumbled into a dimly lit room.
Music played softly from a gramophone in the corner and tables and chairs were scattered around the room, which looked larger and more dimly lit the farther Remus looked. It took him a moment to realize they were standing in what could be considered a pub, though the few men by the bar were sat alone, either drinking or smoking a pipe. Further into the darkness there was a faint thrum of voices. They looked at each other and decided to plough on. Or, rather, Sirius decided for them when he gave Remus a nudge and whispered, ”come on, then.” It was not the place Remus could have ever imagined Albus Dumbledore in, but this Albus seemed comfortable seated at the long plank of a bar atop a rough wooden stool.
They took a seat at the bar, a few stools away from Albus, and Sirius ordered. “Two of Odgen’s Finest,” he drawled aristocratically. That firewhiskey had been around for centuries, and the dusty bottle on the shelf looked to be about as old. The bartender, a hefty man with a mean scowl, looked them both up and down. Perhaps, he thought, he should have been the one to order. Wherever they went, Sirius usually turned heads but in this time and place, Sirius, without a hood to hide his face in shadow, stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Never seen the likes o’ you,” the man said gruffly, looking Sirius dead in the eye.
Remus caught Albus smirking over his drink. Evidently, this wasn’t the sort of place you just strolled, or rather stumbled, into.
“I’m sure you haven’t,” Sirius answered, and Remus wanted to throttle him. This wasn’t the time or place for his purebred attitude. “He means,” Remus interrupted, “we’re just visiting for Montol. Thought we’d have a drink.”
The barman fixed his eyes on Remus and seemed to consider him carefully. “It’s fine, Arthek, they’re with me.” The barman turned to look at young Albus, who had scooted closer. He gave a scowl but retrieved two grimy glasses from under the bar and poured them each a shot of firewhiskey. This time, Sirius knew better than to try and pay, as did Remus, who didn't have a knut on him, anyway. Arthek, the barman, looked at them expectantly. They stared back, not quite sure what to do.
“I’ve got it,” Albus told the barman as he lay a few knuts on the bar. Arthek took the money and ambled away to the other end, scowl in place the whole time.
“Thanks, mate,” Sirius said, holding his glass up to Albus.
Remus gave him a smile, praying their manner of speech wasn’t too out of place. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Albus Dumbledore was speaking to them. He was, to Remus, impossibly young. Sirius on the other hand, seemed to be coping just fine.
“It’s the least I could do,” Albus answered, taking a quick sip of his drink, “considering you’ve been following me for the last hour.”
Remus laughed nervously, while Sirius began to stammer. How in Merlin they had survived all assignments before this, Remus was starting to question.
Albus quieted them both with a raise of a hand. That was when Remus noticed the other was just below the bar pointing his wand in their direction. “I’ll save you the trouble,” he said calmly. Without turning, he called “Arthek, give us a round of the good stuff, will you. We’ll be at a table. In the back.”
“Come then, gentlemen,” young Albus went on, getting up and pointing towards the back, his wand discreetly hidden, yet the point still visible.
Remus knew they were outmatched. With Sirius ’ wand tucked into his boot and his own, quite literally, up his sleeve, there was no way they could defend themselves in time. Worst yet, they couldn’t, shouldn’t. Hurting young Dumbledore was one of those things they were forbidden to do, lest it change the future in any way. No, they were to talk, observe, extract information , nothing more.
Yet, somehow, Remus thought it was going to be even more difficult now.
“Move it, “ Dumbledore commanded discretely. He and Sirius moved towards a table in the back. Though dimly lit, the thrum of voices was louder here, as if only in the dim candlelight could the patrons freely talk. Remus found it odd until he sat down and spied two men sitting very close, foreheads nearly touching as they leaned into one another, laughing and talking.
Oh.
As Remus put things together in his mind, suddenly saw the old man he knew in a new light, Sirius sat beside him, close, too close, like he would leap in front of any curse cast Remus’ way. That, and the way he had been staring Dumbledore down since a wand came out, Sirius probably hadn't noticed the kind of place they’d followed their future headmaster into.
“So gentlemen, I suggest you tell me who sent you and why, before Arthek comes back here. He won't hesitate to act on my word.”
“Is that right -- “ Sirius began but Remus interrupted. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, “But we cannot reveal that.” He could feel Sirius’ eyes bore into the side of his face for a moment, while Albus raised a brow in disbelief.
“Have you forgotten the wand I have pointed at you, sir?”
“If he has, I haven’t mate,” came Sirius’ curt reply.
Albus seemed to consider Sirius carefully, as if seeing him for the first time. If young Albus was half as perceptive as the man they knew, they were in trouble. “Not from around here, are you?”
“No. We’re not,” Remus answered for him, having decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. “But we're here for something of the utmost importance.”
“And that would be?”
At this, Remus was at a loss for words. Fortunately, Sirius wasn’t. “Something, my friend, that could save the world.” He seemed very satisfied with himself, and seemed to relax before he remembered young Albus was still holding a wand on them and straightened up.
Albus suddenly looked ill. That look erased any doubt in Remus’ mind that young Albus Dumbledore was the person they were meant to meet.
“You think I can help you?” Dumbledore asked, serious and low.
“We know you can,” Remus answered with conviction.
“Do we? whispered Sirius. Remus gave him a kick under the table. Sirius, of course, kicked him back.
Albus watched them curiously. “How do you think I can help?”
He sounded almost resigned, which Remus found odd. He tried to think back to anything he’d read in the history books, any rumours he’d heard over the years about Dumbledore ’ life. He realised he knew very little about their former headmaster. He hoped Sirius knew something more.
At that moment, Arthek appeared beside them, slammed a drink in front of each of them and walked away. Remus felt parched and reached for the drink, his mind caught somewhere between the past he’d only read about and the past they were experiencing.
“I wouldn't do that.”
Sirius knocked the drink out of Remus’ hand and went for the wand in his boot. Remus grabbed him by the wrist and they struggled for a moment before Sirius came to his senses. He shot a filthy look at Albus, whose wand was at the ready, and seemed to deflate.
“You followed me,” Albus explained calmly, “I’m still not sure why, what did you expect me to do?”
“Not poison my -- ” Sirius began angrily, then realised what he was about to say. “-- Moony.”
That got him another raised eyebrow. “Interesting name,” he said as he glanced at Remus. Then he shook his head. “Do you really think…, “ He sighed, “It’s a bit of babbling beverage and confusing concoction, brewed up by Arthek for those patrons he’d rather never see in his establishment again.”
“Well thanks you for warning me,” Remus replied, and felt that they might actually get what they came for, though, in truth, he still wasn’t quite sure what it was. “We mean no harm,” he added, “We just want to do right by the man who sent us here.”
“The man you can tell me nothing about.”
“Yes.”
They sat in silence, young Albus watching them though he also seemed to be having some internal struggle. Sirius, meanwhile, finally caught on when the gramophone in the corner began wailing a lively beat and a few couples - all men - got up to dance. “Well fuck me,” Sirius announced.
“Padfoot,” Remus scolded.
At this, Albus looked amused. “You cannot be all that surprised, sir,” he gestured to them both, “only those alike in… predilection can gain access to this establishment.”
Suddenly, the vanishing door made sense. Remus had a thought.
“Well then, sir, “ he began, “I have a proposal for you.”
“You do?” quipped Sirius. Remus shot him a look. “Might be nice if you told me first,” he grumbled.
Remus went on. “I will tell you a truth, one true thing about me, in exchange you help us.”
“With information.”
”Yes.”
“About?”
There was that damned question again. Remus had a notion this Dumbledore knew exactly what the important information was about.
“You know.”
Young Albus swallowed hard. “I suppose I do,” he admitted.
Remus took a breath. Admitting the truth had always been difficult for him, in this time and place, even more so. He wasn't sure of the reaction he would get from this young man who was to be his headmaster. He also dreaded a negative reaction. “I’m a werewolf,” he declared.
He could feel Sirius stiffen beside him and he knew that if his boyfriend decided to go for his wand this time, there would be no stopping him.
But before Albus could react, Sirius spoke up. “I’m in love with a werewolf,” he declared and pulled Remus closer to him with an arm around his waist.
They’d never said the word “love” before and hearing it now, after all they had been through with the Order and the distance that had grown between them, Remus didn’t know quite how to feel. Except a lightness bubbled up in his chest. Sirius loved him. Sirius still loved him.
“I know I said one truth, but,” he turned towards Sirius. He needed to say it, and he figured their Dumbledore would forgive him for straying from the mission for a moment. “I’m in love with a man who’s in love with a werewolf.”
Sirius beamed at the words.
Young Albus took them both in and smiled. “Well then, the name makes perfect sense.”
He hailed the barman. “Arthek, give us your best brandy, we have something to celebrate.”
Arthek stomped away, his scowl uglier than ever.
“What are we celebrating?” Sirius asked skeptically.
“Love, gentlemen. Love.” Albus looked lighter than he had since they’d first seen him.
“What about our deal?” Remus asked. No matter how happy he felt at the moment, he hadn't forgotten the mission.
‘Yeah,” added Sirius, “ We poured our hearts out, it's your turn.”
Young Albus ’ smile faded and he suddenly looked like the old man he’d become, the weight of the world firmly atop his shoulders.
“Yes, gentlemen,” he answered. “I know why you are here, and I shall give you what you need.”
Just then, Arthek appeared, slammed the drinks harder this time, and ambled away, grumbling about strangers as he did.
Albus picked up the glass, took a long sip, and set it down gently. “I know who robbed Gringotts,” he began, “I know what he was looking for.”
Remus suddenly remembered why the date sounded familiar. He’d read about it in school, the Great Gringotts Heist. A wizard had broken in, they never found out who, but nothing was taken The misnomer had always irked him, as it wasn’t much of a heist. But what did it have to do with Voldemort?, he wondered, then recalled the rumours about who it might have been.
“And I know,” Albus went on, his voice low, “Where to find it.” He took another sip, and continued. “His name Is Gellert Grindelwald, and he is the man I once loved…”
Author/Artist:
littlepistols (aka cackling_madly)Recipient:
laroseminuitRating: PG
Contents or warnings (highlight to view): *gratuitous “borrowing” of Cornish customs, some swearing, terrible grasp of history*
Word count: ~5,700
Summary: Remus and Sirius travel back in time for a mission for the Order of the Phoenix. If only Remus and Sirius knew what, or who, they were looking for...
Notes: Written for the prompt “time travel”, with a bit of the wild card thrown in (depending on how unexpected this character's presence is, I suppose). Thanks to the mods for their patience, understanding, and running this fest again and again! And a huge thank you to by beta
brighty18, whose insight was invaluable. That said, any mistakes or wonkiness left are mine. The idea of Montol is a real Cornish custom, just moved it to Rowling's fictional town. I hope you enjoy this laroseminuit!!Remus looked at Sirius skeptically. The uneasy feeling that began in the pit of his stomach the moment Sirius uttered six little words -- “we’re to go back in time” -- grew along with the manic look of joy in Sirius’ eyes.
“Excuse me?” was all he could think to say.
For his part, Sirius looked utterly convinced that they would, in fact, be going back in time.
“What part didn’t you get, Moony?” he asked, seeming earnestly concerned (which in turn concerned Remus, as Sirius was hardly ever earnest, and rarely concerned).
“The part where were are supposed to do the impossible,” he began. “The part where I just got back from four months… “ He didn’t dare utter “living in a werewolf colony” and instead cleared his throat and gathered his thoughts. “You just got back,” he said instead. “You and James.”
Sirius nodded once, the happy look on his face sobering. It was clear that he was just as unwilling -- unable -- to share details of his last mission with Remus either. “He said it was urgent.”
“And he can’t send someone else?” Remus asked, “someone,” he gestured between them, “who hasn’t just gotten back from a mission?”
“I asked. He said it had to be us.” Sirius in turn pointed to himself, “You,” he said, “and me.” He poked Remus in the chest and grabbed his shoulder, letting his hand linger there a moment before pulling it away.
“Why us?” He couldn’t honestly believe Dumbledore hadn’t felt the tension between them growing the past year, how what they both had to do for the Order had come between them. The last Order meeting alone, they had earned more than a few sideway glances, and Fabian Prewett, the prat, even had the nerve to ask them if they were having a “lover’s quarrel” in front of half the Order. They still technically lived together, they were still officially a couple, but they hadn’t really been what they used to be for longer than Remus cared to remember. The awkwardness between them had become painful to bear.
Sirius shrugged. Then his face began to light up once more as he reached into his shirt and pulled out an antique watch on a chain. Remus’ heart gave a little leap. Though he’d never seen one in person before, he knew at once it was a Time Turner.
The watch, clearly an antique, yet shiny gold, was etched in an intricate overlapping pattern, loops upon loops yet not quite a spiral, and Remus felt that if he began to trace along those lines with a finger, he would be pulled into an endless loop. It was a dizzying feeling and he made himself look away.
“He gave that to you?” he asked, awestruck.
Sirius grinned. He knew Remus well enough to know that he was, in fact, intrigued.
“McKinnon did”, he explained, “or,” he corrected, “she gave me a package, this was in it,” he dangled the time-turner from his hands, shaking it slightly as if ringing a bell, “ along with a letter explaining how to use it.”
Remus couldn’t fathom putting something this special, this dangerous, in a simple package, let alone giving it to Sirius Black. He wondered sometimes if Dumbledore really was mad. “Let me read the letter,” he said, quelling the urge to snatch it out of Sirius’ hands and hide it away for safekeeping.
“Can’t. It, “ Sirius made a hand gesture miming something exploding, “poofed.”
“Well, then - “
“Ah,” Sirius stopped him with a finger to his lips, the surprise he felt at the small touch yet another reminder of how far apart they’d grown. “Old Dumbles knew you’d react this way, so he sent you this.” He retrieved a letter from inside his leather jacket and held it out to Remus. Remus sighed in exasperation and took the envelope, marked “For RJ Lupin’s eyes only”, from Sirius’ finely boned fingers and tore it open.
Dear Remus,
Please forgive me for not being able to explain, in person, what is to be your most important task for the Order. I have chosen you and Mr. Black for this mission because I trust that only the two of you will be able to complete it and retrieve a vital piece of information. I will skip the basics, as I’m sure Sirius has already filled you in on those. This mission will be dangerous and tricky. You are to extract information from an individual. You will know who it is when you see them, and you will know exactly what you need when the time is right. But please, be aware of a few things. As I’m sure Mr. Black has joined you in reading this letter by now,”
Remus looked up to find that Sirius was standing next to him, reading over his shoulder, a look of deep concentration on his face. It was a look he knew well, having practically memorized his boyfriend’s every expression. Remus wondered how he hadn’t noticed Sirius’ close proximity until that moment. He was usually very adept at sensing Sirius wherever he was, and this close, he could feel the heat coming off his body, see the tiny crinkles around his eyes as he scrunched them up just so. It had been a while since they’d been this close, since the night Lily and James announced they were having a baby, and Remus felt the ache in his heart (and, if he was being honest with himself, somewhere much lower) at being this close to Sirius once more. Remus tore his eyes away from the handsome distraction that was Sirius Black and continued on.
“Firstly, it is imperative that you both keep a low profile. This is not your world, and should you find yourself in peril, it may well be mortal. Secondly, you must turn back and, keep track of, the time once you get to your destination. It is imperative that you make your way back to where you started before the time is up so that you may safely return to the present. Make sure Mr. Black handles the time turner as little as possible, keep it on your person but hidden the whole time, and guard it with your life. I suggest you both dress in robes, classic black with no modern embellishments, and please make sure Mr. Black leaves that ragged leather coat of his behind.”
Remus smiled. Dumbledore really did know Sirius all too well.
“The person you seek will give you what you need as long as you are genuine. Be yourselves but reveal who you really are to no one.”
“Hey,” Sirius exclaimed. Remus wasn’t sure if he was protesting the comment about his coat or the time-turner.
“Take great care while on this mission. Find what you need and return with it to me immediately. I will be waiting in my office. The password is Fizzing Whizbees.
Good luck,
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. An owl will arrive with a destination to a portkey once you finish reading this letter.
P.P.S. Watch your eyebrows.”
The letter began to sizzle the moment Remus read the last word and he managed to turn his face away just as it went up in flames and disappeared in a puff of acrid smoke.
“What the fuck?”
He turned to see Sirius, streaks of soot on his face, his eyebrows singed and nearly gone.
“I take it you weren’t finished?” he asked, trying to contain his laughter.
Sirius gave him his most devastating look. Remus bit his lip.
“If you laugh, so help me Merlin, Moony!”
Remus whipped out his wand and began to repair his boyfriend’s eyebrows just as an owl swooped towards them, landed deftly on Sirius’ head, dropped a smaller letter into Remus’ hands, and flew away. He tore it open immediately, Sirius’ dismal eyebrows instantly forgotten. It simply read, “Ottery St. Catchpole, Stoadstead Hill, by the lone willow tree. Single red boot.”
“Fuck!” Sirius exclaimed and Remus looked up to see white droppings sliding down his dark mane.
Remus could hardly be blamed for bursting out in laughter. Still, the thought, the stinging hex he received on his backside, was probably deserved.
---------
They stood in an empty field a few hours later, Sirius holding the smelly shoe in one hand and a slip of paper in the other, Remus’ arm locked with his. They both wore Sirius’ plain black robes, crisp and casual. Though on Remus they hit slightly above the ankle, they would have to do. All of Remus’ robes were patched and holey and not at all inconspicuous.
“Where are we, do you think?” Sirius asked, tossing the boot to the ground in disgust and handing Remus the slip of paper as he looked around. The sun was just beginning to set so the view from their spot on a hill, much like the hill they had just been on but distinctly different, was still quite clear.
Remus did the same, trying to get his bearings. The place was not altogether unfamiliar. It was the opposite, in fact. The view to the town below was much like countless towns in countless places Remus had traveled to in the name of Order business. There was nothing particularly unique about the view, or their surroundings, save for the tall grass in which they stood and the sea salt in the air. It was clear they were somewhere by the coast, somewhere west from where they’d begun, judging by the position of the setting sun, but there were no other glaring clues. At that moment, he wished that Dumbledore weren’t so chronically cryptic.
“You think he could have just said,” Sirius grumbled, walking towards a path that cut through the tall grass.
“Wait,” Remus grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “We have to set the time.”
Sirius watched as he pulled the time turner out from under his robes and looped the long chain over his neck so that they were both wearing the magical contraption. This close, Sirius’ grey eyes shone (like diamonds, he thought, internally groaning even though he knew it was apt) and Remus nearly forgot for a moment what they were about to do.
“Moony,” Sirius gently chided him and Remus realized he’d been staring. “This really isn’t the time.” He’d also been leaning in closer and closer, his eyes fixed on Sirius’ plush pink lips. He looked up to see his want mirrored on his boyfriend’s face. It had been way, way too long. It was clear Sirius thought so, too.
He tore his eyes from Sirius’ and looked down at the slip of paper in his hand. “25 and a quarter turns,” it read.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice trembling with anticipation. He was nervous yet just as intoxicated by the very idea of what they were about to do as Sirius, he was sure. He could feel the thrum of energy, anticipation and expectation between them.
“Ready,” came the soft reply.
He began to twist the time turner, counting each revolution in his head as the world began to shift and change around him...
___________
“We’ve been walking for hours!” Sirius hissed, his thick motorbike boots tromping along the path that had recently become stone.
“It’s been fifteen minutes,” Remus corrected him, wondering how he let those stupid boots get past him. This is what happens when you send a soldier into battle without any rest, he thought to himself, or, more specifically, at Dumbledore. Unlike Sirius, who had been cursing “fuckin’ Dumbles” under his breath since they set off to figure out where they were, Remus was keeping his complaints to himself.
A little while later, just as he was about to finally snap at Sirius, his exasperated boyfriend suddenly stopped and began to chuckle. “That old sod,” he exclaimed as he made a run for a wider road ahead.
Remus ran to catch up and before he could get out his question, it was answered by the appearance of a large wooden sign that read ‘Tinworth’. Of course, Remus thought immediately connecting the dots. It was one of only a handful of partly-wizarding towns and it was located near the northernmost tip of England, by the sea. Remus had visited a few times as a child, his parents searching for a cure for his lycanthropy. There were some very powerful witches and wizards in this town, or there had been when he’d been a child, hiding in plain sight among the Muggles, who were none the wiser. Remus wondered if it was of these people they were supposed to get their information from. Maybe that’s why Dumbledore chose me, he thought.
“So now we’ve got the where,” Sirius commented, breaking him out of his thoughts, “do you reckon we might figure out the when anytime soon?”
“That’s probably easy enough,” he said, pointing to the banners hung around the town’s perimeter.
“Shit,” Sirius exclaimed with glee. “It’s Montol!”
Remus wasn’t familiar with the word, though he thought it sounded Cornish.
“The Winter Solstice Festival, Moony,” Sirius explained, taking Remus’ lack of response for what it was. “I used to come here every year,” he went on, then paused, his face falling, as he added, “with my family.”
“Is this the thing you and James were going on about back in First?” Remus asked. He remembered that first year, just before Christmas hols, and the way the two of them rambled on about all the traditions and revelry they took part in every winter solstice in Tinworth, and how he and Peter, who, like Remus, came from an ordinary family, sat and listened and quietly envied their wealthy, well-traveled mates.
He lit up again slightly as he nodded. “It was probably the only time Regulus and I got along,” he added wistfully, then seemed to shake himself out of his revery. “Seems we’ve got some celebrating to do,” he said, a wicked smile coming across his face.
“Sirius -- “ he warned.
“Don’t worry, Moony,” he said as he took Remus by the hand, then thought better of it and let go. “This is exactly what old Dumbles wants us to do.” He winked, pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, and led the way, Remus following behind.
They made their way to the center of town, where Sirius assured Remus they would find a small but vibrant magical neighbourhood. It was quite easy to access, so easy in fact that Remus wondered how Muggles didn’t accidentally find their way in.
“Oh, apparently, they do,” Sirius answered him, though he hadn’t realised he’d been speaking out loud. “But there’s a Confundus Charm on the doorway, so that they end up going a bit loopy, then eventually wandering back out and never remembering a thing.”
Remus thought it particularly mean but didn’t voice that opinion. Sirius, like James, still tended not to see some magical practices as anything but necessary.
The neighbourhood was bustling, with shops crammed into a long winding lane. There were families roaming, children skipping about, and people stopping to socialize in front of tiny shop windows. There was a quaint charm to it all, along with an oddness to the strange decorations and dark masks many people wore, yet Remus found himself taken by it, so much so it took him longer than he’d ever admit to see the telltale signs that they were, in fact, in another, bygone era.
While the robes the wizards and witches wore were much the same as what he and Sirius had on, though the cloth thicker, the colours muted, the town and people were so oddly reminiscent of old sepia-toned photographs. It made the whole thing feel surreal. Remus didn’t have to guess much longer at the year when they came upon a small boy hawking the latest issue of the Tinworth Daily Press.
“Read all about it! Daring Daylight Robbery at Gringotts! Lone Suspect Gets Away!”
“1899.”
“You always were good with dates,” Sirius remarked as he snatched a paper off the neat stack by the boy’s feet, held it up to Remus then tossed it back.
Something about the date sounded familiar to Remus.
“Oi, Mister! You going to buy that?”
Sirius reached into his pocket and was about to toss the boy a coin when Remus grabbed it out of his hand. “Not today,” he told the boy, and gestured to Sirius to move on. They got lost in the crowd quickly but could hear the boy yelling out, ”Oi! Pe lemmyn!” and ”erbysyas!”
No one paid them much mind as they were swallowed up by the crowd, despite the newsboy’s taunts to pay up (and calling them misers). They managed to make it round the corner and into a less crowded laneway.
“Before you say anything, Moony, I know,” Sirius began, “I forgot, our money’s from the future.” He threw up his hands in mock defeat.
“You know we have to be very careful, Pads,” he chided. Even though he knew it went without saying, he felt he needed to say it. Dumbledore was counting on them and they’d almost blown it with a galleon. From the future. His head hurt just thinking about where they were and what they were in the middle of doing.
“Merlin, Moony, I said I fucking know.”
They were on the verge of an argument, and Remus knew that it was the worst possible moment. He thought briefly of how to step it back, try to defuse the situation. They tended to argue like this lately, for some small thing, but this wasn’t the time. Or time period. Remus turned to Sirius, his mouth opening to apologize when he spotted someone familiar. Ridiculously familiar.
He was so much younger, impossibly younger, most likely younger than he and Sirius were, and though no glasses sat atop his long nose, or long white beard adorned his thin face, the profile and blue eyes were unmistakable.
He was about to say something when he heard Sirius utter, “Merlin’s balls!” under his breath.
They locked eyes for only a brief moment and without a word, they began down the street in unison, following a teenaged Albus Dumbledore down the crowded street. Neither Remus nor Sirius uttered a word, making their way across the village, taking the time to pause and linger when young Albus slowed or stopped to peek into a shop window. He spoke to no one as he strolled through the streets, and it was clear this wasn’t his usual haunt.
“Didn’t he grow up in Godric’s Hollow?” Sirius asked, finally breaking the silence between them that had accompanied them since they began to trail young Albus.
“Here for the celebration?” he guessed.
“Doesn’t look dressed for it,” Sirius commented.
“Well,” Remus countered, “neither do we.”
Sirius gave him a look as if to say, “fair point,” then knocked him on the shoulder. “Look!” he hissed, “where’s he gone?”
“Shit!”
They made their way through the bustle of revellers and to the other side of the street. Remus looked around frantically, panic growing as he searched in vain for the auburn-haired headmaster. “There,” Sirius whispered, pointing discreetly to an alleyway . Remus only caught a glimpse of a dark robe and bright hair, but he trusted Sirius. They quickly followed.
The alley, tucked between two empty shops, was piled up with rubbish. It looked like it had been swept there, off the streets, and it was piled so high that he almost missed the only door.
“See it?” Sirius asked, evidently thinking the same as Remus.
Remus nodded and they squeezed in between the brick walls of the buildings, trying not to topple over the teetering piles of rubbish as they made their way to the door.
“Well, this is interesting,” Sirius commented when they stood in front of the old wooden door. There was no handle or doorknob. No sign or even a hint of hinges. It was evident this was not a door just anyone could walk through. Remus wondered what was on the other side.
“There’s got to be a way in,” Sirius said as he skimmed his hand over the door’s edges. When he found nothing, he pulled out his wand.
“Wait.” Remus grabbed his wrist. He could feel the time-turner, which he’d tucked into his robes, thrumming softly against his chest, and the rapid beat of Sirius’ pulse doing the same against his palm. “What if,” he began, then stopped. He was out of his depth.
“Remus,” Sirius looked at him, his face sober, “this is why we’re here.”
Remus sighed. Sirius was right. It had to be Dumbledore they were meant to get the information from. It was no coincidence that young Albus was in this village on this day at this time. He just couldn’t understand what Dumbledore had forgotten -- or been made to forget, perhaps -- that was so important only he and Sirius could retrieve it.
He gave a tiny nod. Sirius tapped his wand against the door. Nothing happened.
“Maybe I should try,” he said and did the same, trying the usual Revelio to see any spells or charms over the door. There was nothing but a soft glow around the bottom of the door, as if light were spilling from the inside. Soft purple light.
“This is fucking ridiculous!” Sirius gave the door a kick and Remus tried to stop him as he tried again. “Sirius, don’t!” he hissed. What happened next, Remus couldn’t really say, except that as soon as the toe of Sirius’ boot hit the door, it fell away and they stumbled into a tiny alcove, the floor immediately dropped and stopped abruptly just before it hit the ground. Sirius and Remus, tangled together in a heap on the floor, picked themselves up and stumbled into a dimly lit room.
Music played softly from a gramophone in the corner and tables and chairs were scattered around the room, which looked larger and more dimly lit the farther Remus looked. It took him a moment to realize they were standing in what could be considered a pub, though the few men by the bar were sat alone, either drinking or smoking a pipe. Further into the darkness there was a faint thrum of voices. They looked at each other and decided to plough on. Or, rather, Sirius decided for them when he gave Remus a nudge and whispered, ”come on, then.” It was not the place Remus could have ever imagined Albus Dumbledore in, but this Albus seemed comfortable seated at the long plank of a bar atop a rough wooden stool.
They took a seat at the bar, a few stools away from Albus, and Sirius ordered. “Two of Odgen’s Finest,” he drawled aristocratically. That firewhiskey had been around for centuries, and the dusty bottle on the shelf looked to be about as old. The bartender, a hefty man with a mean scowl, looked them both up and down. Perhaps, he thought, he should have been the one to order. Wherever they went, Sirius usually turned heads but in this time and place, Sirius, without a hood to hide his face in shadow, stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Never seen the likes o’ you,” the man said gruffly, looking Sirius dead in the eye.
Remus caught Albus smirking over his drink. Evidently, this wasn’t the sort of place you just strolled, or rather stumbled, into.
“I’m sure you haven’t,” Sirius answered, and Remus wanted to throttle him. This wasn’t the time or place for his purebred attitude. “He means,” Remus interrupted, “we’re just visiting for Montol. Thought we’d have a drink.”
The barman fixed his eyes on Remus and seemed to consider him carefully. “It’s fine, Arthek, they’re with me.” The barman turned to look at young Albus, who had scooted closer. He gave a scowl but retrieved two grimy glasses from under the bar and poured them each a shot of firewhiskey. This time, Sirius knew better than to try and pay, as did Remus, who didn't have a knut on him, anyway. Arthek, the barman, looked at them expectantly. They stared back, not quite sure what to do.
“I’ve got it,” Albus told the barman as he lay a few knuts on the bar. Arthek took the money and ambled away to the other end, scowl in place the whole time.
“Thanks, mate,” Sirius said, holding his glass up to Albus.
Remus gave him a smile, praying their manner of speech wasn’t too out of place. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Albus Dumbledore was speaking to them. He was, to Remus, impossibly young. Sirius on the other hand, seemed to be coping just fine.
“It’s the least I could do,” Albus answered, taking a quick sip of his drink, “considering you’ve been following me for the last hour.”
Remus laughed nervously, while Sirius began to stammer. How in Merlin they had survived all assignments before this, Remus was starting to question.
Albus quieted them both with a raise of a hand. That was when Remus noticed the other was just below the bar pointing his wand in their direction. “I’ll save you the trouble,” he said calmly. Without turning, he called “Arthek, give us a round of the good stuff, will you. We’ll be at a table. In the back.”
“Come then, gentlemen,” young Albus went on, getting up and pointing towards the back, his wand discreetly hidden, yet the point still visible.
Remus knew they were outmatched. With Sirius ’ wand tucked into his boot and his own, quite literally, up his sleeve, there was no way they could defend themselves in time. Worst yet, they couldn’t, shouldn’t. Hurting young Dumbledore was one of those things they were forbidden to do, lest it change the future in any way. No, they were to talk, observe, extract information , nothing more.
Yet, somehow, Remus thought it was going to be even more difficult now.
“Move it, “ Dumbledore commanded discretely. He and Sirius moved towards a table in the back. Though dimly lit, the thrum of voices was louder here, as if only in the dim candlelight could the patrons freely talk. Remus found it odd until he sat down and spied two men sitting very close, foreheads nearly touching as they leaned into one another, laughing and talking.
Oh.
As Remus put things together in his mind, suddenly saw the old man he knew in a new light, Sirius sat beside him, close, too close, like he would leap in front of any curse cast Remus’ way. That, and the way he had been staring Dumbledore down since a wand came out, Sirius probably hadn't noticed the kind of place they’d followed their future headmaster into.
“So gentlemen, I suggest you tell me who sent you and why, before Arthek comes back here. He won't hesitate to act on my word.”
“Is that right -- “ Sirius began but Remus interrupted. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, “But we cannot reveal that.” He could feel Sirius’ eyes bore into the side of his face for a moment, while Albus raised a brow in disbelief.
“Have you forgotten the wand I have pointed at you, sir?”
“If he has, I haven’t mate,” came Sirius’ curt reply.
Albus seemed to consider Sirius carefully, as if seeing him for the first time. If young Albus was half as perceptive as the man they knew, they were in trouble. “Not from around here, are you?”
“No. We’re not,” Remus answered for him, having decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. “But we're here for something of the utmost importance.”
“And that would be?”
At this, Remus was at a loss for words. Fortunately, Sirius wasn’t. “Something, my friend, that could save the world.” He seemed very satisfied with himself, and seemed to relax before he remembered young Albus was still holding a wand on them and straightened up.
Albus suddenly looked ill. That look erased any doubt in Remus’ mind that young Albus Dumbledore was the person they were meant to meet.
“You think I can help you?” Dumbledore asked, serious and low.
“We know you can,” Remus answered with conviction.
“Do we? whispered Sirius. Remus gave him a kick under the table. Sirius, of course, kicked him back.
Albus watched them curiously. “How do you think I can help?”
He sounded almost resigned, which Remus found odd. He tried to think back to anything he’d read in the history books, any rumours he’d heard over the years about Dumbledore ’ life. He realised he knew very little about their former headmaster. He hoped Sirius knew something more.
At that moment, Arthek appeared beside them, slammed a drink in front of each of them and walked away. Remus felt parched and reached for the drink, his mind caught somewhere between the past he’d only read about and the past they were experiencing.
“I wouldn't do that.”
Sirius knocked the drink out of Remus’ hand and went for the wand in his boot. Remus grabbed him by the wrist and they struggled for a moment before Sirius came to his senses. He shot a filthy look at Albus, whose wand was at the ready, and seemed to deflate.
“You followed me,” Albus explained calmly, “I’m still not sure why, what did you expect me to do?”
“Not poison my -- ” Sirius began angrily, then realised what he was about to say. “-- Moony.”
That got him another raised eyebrow. “Interesting name,” he said as he glanced at Remus. Then he shook his head. “Do you really think…, “ He sighed, “It’s a bit of babbling beverage and confusing concoction, brewed up by Arthek for those patrons he’d rather never see in his establishment again.”
“Well thanks you for warning me,” Remus replied, and felt that they might actually get what they came for, though, in truth, he still wasn’t quite sure what it was. “We mean no harm,” he added, “We just want to do right by the man who sent us here.”
“The man you can tell me nothing about.”
“Yes.”
They sat in silence, young Albus watching them though he also seemed to be having some internal struggle. Sirius, meanwhile, finally caught on when the gramophone in the corner began wailing a lively beat and a few couples - all men - got up to dance. “Well fuck me,” Sirius announced.
“Padfoot,” Remus scolded.
At this, Albus looked amused. “You cannot be all that surprised, sir,” he gestured to them both, “only those alike in… predilection can gain access to this establishment.”
Suddenly, the vanishing door made sense. Remus had a thought.
“Well then, sir, “ he began, “I have a proposal for you.”
“You do?” quipped Sirius. Remus shot him a look. “Might be nice if you told me first,” he grumbled.
Remus went on. “I will tell you a truth, one true thing about me, in exchange you help us.”
“With information.”
”Yes.”
“About?”
There was that damned question again. Remus had a notion this Dumbledore knew exactly what the important information was about.
“You know.”
Young Albus swallowed hard. “I suppose I do,” he admitted.
Remus took a breath. Admitting the truth had always been difficult for him, in this time and place, even more so. He wasn't sure of the reaction he would get from this young man who was to be his headmaster. He also dreaded a negative reaction. “I’m a werewolf,” he declared.
He could feel Sirius stiffen beside him and he knew that if his boyfriend decided to go for his wand this time, there would be no stopping him.
But before Albus could react, Sirius spoke up. “I’m in love with a werewolf,” he declared and pulled Remus closer to him with an arm around his waist.
They’d never said the word “love” before and hearing it now, after all they had been through with the Order and the distance that had grown between them, Remus didn’t know quite how to feel. Except a lightness bubbled up in his chest. Sirius loved him. Sirius still loved him.
“I know I said one truth, but,” he turned towards Sirius. He needed to say it, and he figured their Dumbledore would forgive him for straying from the mission for a moment. “I’m in love with a man who’s in love with a werewolf.”
Sirius beamed at the words.
Young Albus took them both in and smiled. “Well then, the name makes perfect sense.”
He hailed the barman. “Arthek, give us your best brandy, we have something to celebrate.”
Arthek stomped away, his scowl uglier than ever.
“What are we celebrating?” Sirius asked skeptically.
“Love, gentlemen. Love.” Albus looked lighter than he had since they’d first seen him.
“What about our deal?” Remus asked. No matter how happy he felt at the moment, he hadn't forgotten the mission.
‘Yeah,” added Sirius, “ We poured our hearts out, it's your turn.”
Young Albus ’ smile faded and he suddenly looked like the old man he’d become, the weight of the world firmly atop his shoulders.
“Yes, gentlemen,” he answered. “I know why you are here, and I shall give you what you need.”
Just then, Arthek appeared, slammed the drinks harder this time, and ambled away, grumbling about strangers as he did.
Albus picked up the glass, took a long sip, and set it down gently. “I know who robbed Gringotts,” he began, “I know what he was looking for.”
Remus suddenly remembered why the date sounded familiar. He’d read about it in school, the Great Gringotts Heist. A wizard had broken in, they never found out who, but nothing was taken The misnomer had always irked him, as it wasn’t much of a heist. But what did it have to do with Voldemort?, he wondered, then recalled the rumours about who it might have been.
“And I know,” Albus went on, his voice low, “Where to find it.” He took another sip, and continued. “His name Is Gellert Grindelwald, and he is the man I once loved…”
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Date: 2017-01-07 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-27 12:00 am (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I very much enjoyed writing this. Thanks for the great inspiration in your prompts :D
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Date: 2017-01-07 10:11 pm (UTC)Remus didn’t know quite how to feel. Except a lightness bubbled up in his chest. Sirius loved him. Sirius still loved him.
*melts into a gooey puddle*
Also, how I wish there could be magic doors that could read your sexuality. Would've saved me a lot of trouble if someone could've said, 'Shaggy, stop banging your head against a brick wall, take two steps to the left and try the revolving door of bisexuality and fuckwittage.' /wistful.
no subject
Date: 2017-01-12 06:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-27 12:03 am (UTC)Btw I, too, wish the door was a real thing. It would have saved me a lot of time and angst.
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Date: 2017-01-08 06:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-27 12:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-09 02:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-27 12:05 am (UTC)Thanks again!
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Date: 2017-01-12 02:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-27 12:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-12 06:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-27 12:08 am (UTC)Thanks again!