The shack in Costa Rica was home, Remus Lupin decided. It was the home he never knew he had longed for all of his life until he was there, but it had become very quickly the most sacred space he knew. He pressed his palms to the walls every morning and whispered incantations of protection and joy into them, energizing the house with safety and warmth that filled it to the very rafters. Maybe it was the constant scent of the backyard in the warm sun that gave the place a certain heady comfort, or maybe it was the invigoration of the ocean just outside, the waves crashing on the shore and the sunshine that came through the windows without the overcast of London that charged the house - who knew? But Remus was certain it wasn't any of those thing - he was certain it was the presence of Sirius Black.

Sirius's presence was, as always, bigger than the house itself, it seemed. He wondered how the hell the roof contained him at times. He woke up singing most days, old songs, the songs he'd heard countless times on the record player in their youth. They drank orange juice every morning because Sirius insisted it was the gold of Costa Rica and Remus laughed when the shaggy Snuffles would go bounding through the trees, chasing after Buckbeak. Sirius's clothes would be hanging over the porch rail after a swim in the ocean, the latest version of the Please Return to Remus Lupin t-shirt fluttering in the breeze like a flag declaring their staked claim to the land.

Indeed, in Costa Rica with Sirius, it was quite easy to forget about the past, the things that had haunted Remus Lupin for the past decade and a half... Halloween 1981 seemed a great deal farther away from his thoughts lately than it had ever been, and he felt liberated and strangely disconnected from the headlines of the days-old copies of the Daily Prophet that they were discreetly purchasing from an old wizarding shop in town seemed far-off and unimportant. The closest to breaking that barrier was short notes of updates from Tonks, who popped the notes by the floo network - a much more effective way to send long distance letters than owls, who took ages to fly international mailings. However, these updates from Tonks were often so cryptic that they weren't positive they understood what she was really trying to tell them about.

Sirius had groaned more than once in frustration, "Does she always have to be so bleeding dramatic for? It isn't necessary!"

"Really?" Remus asked. "You're saying someone being dramatic isn't necessary? You?"

"I'm only dramatic when it is necessary, that's the difference!"

Remus hadn't been able to form words to respond and he'd let it go, shaking his head.

But the things she did say were strange.

Things about whispers of people selling off dark treasures in Knockturn Alley and certain Ministry officials suddenly getting edgy and alert. Albus Dumbledore requesting Alastor Moody come to Hogwarts on the pretense of being the next DADA teacher to take position following Remus's departure. There were updates, too, on her quiet private search for Peter Pettigrew, which she was doing as a favor for Remus and Sirius. No signs of him anywhere, she'd written, as though he'd disappeared.

"Probably hiding out in a sewer somewhere with all of the other shit," Sirius had grumbled.

He had, however, thought it hilarious some of the things that people were speculating about where he, himself, Sirius, had disappeared to, now that he was back on the run and a hot topic of wizarding news. Apparently Xenophilius Lovegood had single handedly taken it upon himself to run a new and equally idiotic theory on Sirius's presence in each issue of his ridiculous little magazine and Remus Lupin shook his head at some of the theories that Tonks shared with them. The latest they'd seen was that Sirius had gone and met with a small clan of giants Ireland and become their gurg. 

Sitting high and mighty on the gold of the giants, the shortest gurg in history, Sirius Black is in a prime position to dispatch his followers against his enemies at any time. Ministry Officials work around the clock to convince the giants to hand over Black, but they refuse to betray their gurg - loyal to the end, giants are, and they don't take kindly to wizards who wish to take Black into custody.

"Well it sounds like I'm having a jolly time!" Sirius said, guffawing at the issue of the Quibbler, which had a drawing of a tiny Sirius on a pile of giant gold coins as big around as his fist, lounging inside the ring of a crown, arms hanging decadently over the spikes of it, feet up on the opposite site, grinning at a circle of kneeling giants. "I mean, just look at me, what a fabulous gurg I make!"

"They got your features all wrong, whoever's drawn this," Remus complained, "Look at that hideous nose compared to your actual one!"

And so, pushing away the strange rumors that Tonks and the Daily Prophet were ever threatening to crash in with, they rebuilt their life together.

The book shelves filled quickly and Sirius built another and another until the room was lined with them like a library, just waiting to be completely filled and Remus treasured every book they got in their trips to town. He'd sit on the beach, feet tucked into warm sand, wearing Sirius's leather jacket and reading while Sirius splashed about in the water and shouted like a child who wanted their parents to watch them do tricks. Buckbeak would even jump about in the waves or let Sirius ride on his back over the trees and ocean. Remus, meanwhile, devoured novels and biographies, mysteries and memoirs, poetry, history, science, and whatever else he could get his hands on that sounded interesting - or that he found cheap at a used bookstore they'd found that smelled like ink and dusty book pages.

And at night, they lay together and Remus was certain the bed was possibly his favorite part of the entire thing. He knew of course all along how much he missed Sirius beside him, but it was more poignant when he held Sirius in his arms again and had to pause to breathe in his scent to reassure himself that he wasn't dreaming, that the weight of Sirius in his arms wasn't a rolled up blanket or a pillow like it had been for twelve years - but actually the weight of the real Sirius Black. 

Costa Rica Sirius smelled of salt and sea air and dog in the best way.

Remus Lupin would have happily lived the rest of his life in Costa Rica, holding Sirius and devouring books.

But then the owl came.

Sirius lay on the blanket, stretched like a cat in the sun, his head in Remus's lap as Remus read a book called Martin the Warrior that appeared, by it's cover, to be about a mouse with a sword. The ocean roared and crashed against the stone jetty, a comforting lullaby. Sirius had his eyes closed as Remus ran his fingers absently over his husband's scalp, Sirius's hair tangled about his fingers, only pausing now and then just long enough to turn the page in his book, riveted to the story.

Sirius smiled.

There was a soft thump in the sand beside them and Sirius said, "Ah Beaky - decided to join us, did you, you crazy feathered bastard?"

"It isn't Beaky," Remus said, and Sirius felt him shift, putting down the book on the blanket and Sirius rolled over to see. A large white owl had landed beside them and now stood on the edge of their blanket, kicking sand from her talons, looking quite exhausted, feathers ruffled with indignation, eyes flashing across the sunny beach. A scroll hung from her leg. "That isn't --" Remus was incredulous.

"Hedwig?!" Sirius gasped. He sat up and scooped the white owl up. She hooted appreciatively as he dusted beach sand from her feathers from her harsh landing. "What the bloody hell're you doing here?!"

"She's half a planet away from Hogwarts!" Remus exclaimed in shock, "You didn't fly all of this way - surely...?"

But Hedwig fluttered her tired wings and Sirius said, "We need to get her some water and food."

They hurried, Remus gathering up his book and their blanket, shaking it out with a flick of his wand so that the sand fell away as they rushed toward the shack. Inside, Sirius deposited Hedwig gently on the back of a chair where her talons sank into the wood and watched as Sirius got fresh water into a dish and searched the cupboards for some crackers for the bird. Hedwig hooted appreciatively as Sirius set the food and drink before her and when she'd taken several large beakfuls of water, she stood upright and thrust her leg out for Sirius to take the letter tied to her leg.

Sirius opened it and his eyes scanned the messy scrawl that ran across the parchment.

When he'd finished reading the letter, he looked up, worry lining his face. He looked around the room for Remus, spotting him through the wide-open front door. Remus was folding the blanket out on the porch, his book under one arm. Sirius bit his lips and looked about at the books and the chairs, the record player and their flip flops by the door, the cozy little space they'd made, the life they were starting to build. He swallowed back a lump rising up in his throat.

Remus stepped inside, ducking through the door with the frame a bit lower than his head, and  he looked at Sirius.

Their eyes met and they stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Remus could see the worry in Sirius's eyes, could feel the heaviness that had come over the room and he thought of the grey clouds of London for the first time in a while and he walked over to where Sirius stood, clutching the letter that Hedwig had carried.

"What is it? What does it say?" Remus asked him. He hesitated. "Is Harry alright?"

Sirius paused, then looked down at the parchment, and held it out to Remus. He paused, watching as Remus looked it over, eyes darting across the page until he'd reached the end and he looked back up. Remus stared at Sirius. After a long pause, his mouth opened... and then shut again.

Sirius asked, "So. What do you know about curse scars, Remcyclopedia?"

It had been years since he'd been called that.

Remus shuddered into the nearest chair, palms sweaty, and he dropped the parchment onto the table, right next to where Hedwig was gobbling up the crackers Sirius had given her. Remus stared at the white owl's bobbing head for several moments, gathering up his thoughts and pushing away his emotions.

"It is odd if the scar hasn't hurt him besides when - when You Know Who was there," Remus murmured, biting his lower lip and studying the parchment as he spoke. "There must be some power still residual in the scar itself that can sense his presence." He paused, then looked up. "I wonder if it's similar to how the biter has control on a turned werewolf? The venom that makes the change resides in the werewolf's blood stream and has some strong magical tie to the biter. But that doesn't really hurt the scar --" Remus shook his head and his face screwed up with concentration. "Honestly, when it comes to Harry's scar, it's unique - there haven't been any others in history that have lived through the killing curse to have a scar from it."

Sirius nodded, also staring at the parchment. "He's so much like his father."

"Yes, he is," Remus said. "I agree. But what made you say that now?"

"I don't reckon he could be anywhere near me now, can he?" Sirius read from the parchment. He looked up at Remus, then chuckled in a nervous kind of way. "I mean, he's - he's dead so --"

"We both know that He Who Must Not Be Named claimed to have conquered death, Sirius, and three years ago he was actually at Hogwarts again."

"Excuse me?" Sirius looked at Remus, eyes narrowed.

"He tried to get the Philosopher's Stone," Remus explained, "By possessing Quirinus Quirrell - he was a Dark Arts professor that year." Remus was glaring down at the table now, brows cinched. "You know, I never quite got a proper answer from Albus about how that happened - how a dead wizard, dead for a decade, manages to possess a man." He looked up at Sirius, "But I should think that when Quirrell was killed that the spirit of Vol -- He Who Must Not Be Named -- must have died with him... But then again, we all thought he died when he --" Remus stopped mid sentence.

Heavy silence fell over them.

Sirius suddenly slammed his hand on the table so hard it shook and Hedwig's water splashed a bit. Remus took up the parchment from Harry before it was soaked and looked up at Sirius in surprise.

"That bleeding coward better not be anywhere near my godson," Sirius said with passion. "He better not be anywhere near him or I'll bloody tear him apart, I'll --"

"Sirius!" Remus cut him off, even as Sirius's face flushed with rage, "Calm down."

"Something's going on Remus, something -- something I don't understand, but something that I won't fucking stand for. I don't know how he's still alive, but if he is then --" Sirius was shaking, "Then forget Wormtail. I have bigger targets to kill."

Remus's eyes widened as Sirius ducked into the bedroom and the sound of him banging about in there filled Remus's blood with cold. "Wait. What are you doing?" he asked, getting up and hurrying after Sirius, still carrying the letter. Sirius was collecting clothing from the dresser, pushing it into a rucksack on the bed, and Remus felt his mouth go dry. "What are you doing?" he repeated.

Sirius turned about. "Packing."

"Packing?"

"Yes."

"Where are you going?"

"To Harry."

"Sirius, you can't just go waltzing into Hogwarts --"

"Done it all last year, didn't I?"

"And nearly was killed for it. You can't --"

"I can!"

"Sirius!"

"I won't let him kill Harry."

"He isn't --"

"Remus, if Harry's scar is hurting him and the only other time it's hurt him was when You Know Who was around him and you say that if it hurts it must be because there's some residual power sensing him, then that's enough for me. That's enough for me. I won't sit back and wait and watch while another person that I love is torn apart by Voldemort!" 

The name rang in the air between them, both stood, half waiting for the ceiling to break open, half waiting for the Dark Lord to appear. 

When several moments had passed, birds outside the window chirping merrily filling the silence between them, Sirius's ragged breathing loud from the passion of his outburst, finally Remus said, "And what are you going to do about it, Sirius?"

"Whatever I have to," he answered.

Remus watched as Sirius stripped off his beach clothes and withdrew trousers and a button down shirt and a vest. He watched as his husband dressed for the climate of Gray London, as he looked in a mirror and neatened his wild hair, flung his ruck sack about his shoulders and turned to him, grey eyes serious.

"Are you coming?"

"Sirius, we can't go back there. It's too dangerous, it's too --"

"Remus. The owl changes everything." Sirius waved a palm toward the door - toward where Hedwig was sitting, still eating and drinking, waiting for a reply letter back, just as Harry had instructed her to do.

Remus stood there, flabbergasted and unsettled. "What about Buckbeak?" he asked.

"We'll need a ride, won't we?"

"But --"

Sirius looked at Remus. He could see the fear in Remus's eyes, which had faded from chocolate to a strange hazel. Anxiousness. Worry. Not happiness. Sirius felt guilt rise up in him. 

"But what about - about -" Remus flapped his arms helplessly. "What about the Ministry? They're after me, they're after you, they're - What about --" Remus's voice shook.

"Stay here." Sirius put his hands on Remus's shoulders. "You'll be safer here. They can't hunt you down and force you into the bloody Werewolf program. I can travel as a dog, they won't recognize me as a dog. You can't do that. And you're so bloody recognizable..." Sirius ran a hand up to Remus's face, his thumb tracing one of the scars by Remus's jaw. "And I'll be back. I'll get done what I have to get done and --"

"Get done what you have to get done?" Remus spluttered, "You say it like going home to kill the Dark Lord is a one day mission and you'll be back for dinner!"

Sirius grinned, "Maybe I will."

"You don't even know where he is or what's happening - you're - you're going halfway across the planet based on a scar hurting!"

"HARRY'S scar," Sirius said pointedly.

Remus followed Sirius as he turned and carried the rucksack into the kitchen. He reached out his palm for the parchment in Remus's hand and Remus held it out. Sirius grabbed a quill and ink from a drawer and flipped the parchment over, using the back of it to quickly scrawl out a note. Remus looked over Sirius's shoulder.

Harry -- I'm flying north immediately...

Remus let out a whimper and turned around, closing his eyes as he listened to the quill scratching the parchment as Sirius finished his letter. Tears fell hot on his cheeks. "Sirius," he whispered. "Please."

"Remus, you asked me why I didn't fight for Harry before," Sirius's voice was low and he came up behind Remus, wrapping his arms around him from behind, his mouth close to Remus's ear, the husky voice accompanied by a warm breath against Remus's neck. "I regret not having done it then, and there is nothing in this world that will stop me from fighting for him now. You have to understand that."

Remus nodded.

Sirius drew away.

Remus stood, fighting himself to stay still, to not be so selfish, to put Harry first over the things that he, Remus, so desperately wanted... but he couldn't do it.

He turned around quickly, "Sirius - what about me? Why won't you fight for me?"

But the door of the shack was open.

The owl was gone.

The hippogriff was gone.

Sirius was gone.

Remus's hands covered his face as he burst into tears.