Shimmering beautiful (and when I break it's in a million pieces)

Spineless in my tomb of silence

Potter Manor. Saturday, July 16th, 1976, 4:27 pm

Remus went down to the Potter's living room after two excruciating hours of waiting while nothing changed, hearing James' pleas and whispers as he begged Sirius to wake up, his parents exchanging worried looks the more it went on. Healer Martha had left about an hour ago, explaining that she had to go back to St. Mungos to check some patient case files that were similar to Sirius'.

He sat down on the Potter's couch, irritation scratching at his skin, a horrible pit of emotions residing against his heart. He locked it away, not interested in unpacking it. He was so tired of feeling that sickening mix of anger, sadness, guilt, betrayal and frustration, he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin at any moment.

His eyes fell on a portrait of one of James' ancestors, a man with signature unruly hair sitting in a beautiful garden. The portraits learned early enough that Remus wasn't in the mood to talk and they let him be, occasionally whispering amongst each other, pointing at him.

Something in that portrait stuck out in his eyes, a small barn mouse scurrying around, sniffing at a rose that hung so close to the ground it brushed against the neatly trimmed grass.

Fuck. Between all the events and trying to keep his emotions under control, he had completely forgotten about the fourth member of their group. Peter still didn't know about Sirius and it's been three days. Guilt reared its ugly head from the pit in his chest and he hurried up the stairs to ask permission from the Potters to floo to the Pettigrews' home.

Mr and Mrs Potter looked at each other, having a silent conversation before they turned to Remus, sceptical.

"Is it really necessary, Remus? The more people know about him being here the more dangerous it is," Mrs Potter said.

"Of course it's necessary, he's as much Sirius' friend as James and I are! We trust him with our lives," he countered. James looked up at the commotion, his eyes shining with tears and guilt.

"Yeah, mum, we should've actually told him sooner, it's been three days already and what's he going to do? We don't have to tell his parents the whole story, just that he's needed here," James said, his voice wobbling.

Euphemia smiled sadly at her son, all scepticism replaced by sorrow. With one last look at her husband, they both nodded at Remus and he thanked them, running back down the stairs and taking a bit of floo powder, muttering Peter's address and stepping into the green flames.

He closed his eyes, tucking his elbows close to him and reached the fireplace, finding it blocked. He was spit out on the Potter's carpet again, clamping a hand over his mouth and fighting against nausea. Blocked fireplaces were one of the most unpleasant things one could experience while travelling per floo and this was just the second time that he's ever experienced it.

When he no longer felt like he was going to empty the contents of his stomach at any moment, he heaved himself up, dusting away the floo powder remains on his clothes, coughing out the bit of powder that entered his lungs.

His brain belatedly provided the information that Peter had mentioned in his letters he was leaving on Friday to visit some family all the way in Germany, complaining about how he couldn't understand their German and how they refused to speak English with him despite their vast knowledge of it. He said that they would be back three weeks before school started.

Remus wanted to bash his head against the wall to get it to work again, it was as if he was in a waking coma of his own, switching between numb and overwhelming emotions faster than he could catch up and the toll it was taking on him was bigger than he expected.