Chapter Text
12th Grimmauld Place would have starred in may of Remus’s nightmares, even worse than the time he spent with Greyback’s pack back during the war - the first war he reminded himself, considering a new one was looming - but not because of its dark hallways and dusty rooms.
It was Sirius’s eyes, and the ability the place had to take away every light and every smile from them.
“Sirius?” He whispered, cursing himself for agreeing when he suggested using that house as headquarters for the Order. The side of the bed where Sirius slept was empty, the mattress getting cold. Remus rolled down it and reached the next bedroom, glad that that specific wing of the house was empty even when there were other people staying for the night.
Sirius was standing in front of what looked like a frame on the void inside of a heavily silver and green decorated room; but they both knew better. Even in the dim light from the mood, Remus could see his lover was crying. He stepped closer, making himself heard but not saying anything.
“He was supposed to be there,” Sirius whispered, not turning towards the newcomer and yet almost looking for that little relief having Remus close always provided. “I thought… Maybe… I miss him.”
Regulus, the biggest ghost in Grimmauld Place. “He was supposed to be here!”
Sirius almost screamed, and Remus saw how he was shaking. A moment later, Sirius’s right punch tore through the empty canvas and the frame fell on the ground. The Black heir followed, broken and defeated, holding onto Remus as if he were a lifeline.