"So," he said, "Sirius, prince of the Fire Kingdom who grows plants..." A smile tugged at his lips. "What brings you into the forest?"
Sirius hurried after him.
As they walked, thick roots protruding from the forest floor quietly sank back into the earth beneath his feet, smoothing the uneven trail without him even noticing. Low branches bent aside to let him pass, and shafts of morning light filtered through the canopy as though the trees themselves were making room.
"I'm looking for people like me," Sirius answered.
Remus' expression grew thoughtful.
"But..." he said slowly, "all the Children of the Gods are born of fire."
He glanced toward Sirius' sleeve.
Sirius nodded, though there was little comfort in the word.
"That's what the demon told me."
"You spoke with a demon?"
Remus let out a short laugh of disbelief.
"They delight in telling half-truths." Remus folded his arms. "The dangerous part is figuring out which half is true."
"It seemed... harmless enough."
"It sort of climbed on me before I had much say in the matter."
Remus pinched the bridge of his nose.
Sirius looked around at the trees.
"No," Remus said. "Not where you can see it."
"You really don't like demons."
"They're ancient," Remus replied. "Patient. Curious. They collect stories, secrets... sometimes people."
Sirius considered that for a moment.
"I am not afraid of the demon."
Remus looked at him, surprised.
"My apologies," he said, inclining his head slightly. "I did not mean to imply you were."
Sirius waved the apology away.
"You implied I was foolish."
Remus couldn't help smiling.
"But I don't think the demon meant me any harm."
"No," Remus agreed quietly. "Probably not."
He looked ahead, his smile fading just enough to betray a hint of concern.
"That's... oddly reassuring."
“Where are you headed?” Sirius asked.
They had been walking for hours, following a narrow trail that twisted deeper into the forest. The trees grew taller the farther they went, their branches weaving together overhead like a living roof. Sirius found himself watching Remus more than the path itself. The other boy never hesitated. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, stepping around roots and stones with the ease of someone who had spent much of his life outdoors.
“I am headed to Guérison,” Remus answered.
When they reached a deep ditch carved into the earth by rainwater, Remus stepped across easily. He turned back and held out his hand to Sirius without a second thought.
Sirius looked at it briefly before taking it.
Remus’ grip was steady as he helped him across, pulling him safely onto the other side.
“The city of healing?” Sirius asked.
“That’s right,” Remus replied.
Sirius glanced at him curiously. “Are you ill?”
The question was simple enough— innocent.
His expression tightened, and his eyes dropped to their joined hands before he quickly let go. He tucked his hand back against his side as if suddenly aware of the contact.
“I am not contagious,” he said quietly.
Remus looked away, clearing his throat. “I only meant… you need not worry.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Sirius said.
That made Remus glance back at him.
“No.” Sirius shrugged. “I thought perhaps you were injured.”
For a moment, Remus said nothing.
Then something in his face softened.
Most people, Sirius realized, probably did not ask questions like that. They probably heard the word healing and assumed the worst. They probably saw something different and immediately thought dangerous.
Sirius understood that more than anyone.
“Not everything that needs healing is something to fear,” Sirius added quietly.
Remus looked at him for a long moment.
Then he gave a small, almost disbelieving smile.
“You really are strange, Sirius Black.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
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