Juke Box Dive

It'd been nearly a year since Remus had come, expecting only to stay in London for two days--granted permission to present his findings about his studies (at the time, his only passion) at a conference he'd never thought he'd be invited to attend. Before everything--before the war had come--the arrivals gate at Heathrow had been once of his favorite places; though, as both prisoner and refugee, he'd never thought his preference would be put to this sort of test. I can help you, Sirius had whispered urgently though not for the first time, but this time, as Sirius had clinged to Remus' arm, his nails making half-moon circles in the soft, pale flesh of Remus' arm as he'd leaned in close enough so that Remus could feel his warm breath against the shell of his ear, Remus nodded, whispering his story before he lost his nerve.