Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The Harry Potter universe was created by JK Rowling and therefore belongs to her and her various publishers. I don't own anything remotely related to Dylan Thomas or his poem 'And Death Shall Have No Dominion' either. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note: This is the very last chapter! Thanks to everyone who went with me on this journey and read my story! The raw version of this chapter was already written shortly after the second, so I knew exactly where I was heading. The poem inspired me a lot because for me it is what love (and especially Remus' and Sirius' love) is about in a nutshell. The last sentence is the reason I wrote 'Revelation' in the first place. One day I came up with it and couldn't stop thinking that this would make a nice ending for a fanfic. And 20 chapters later, here we are! Enough talking, go on and read!

chapter twenty: revelation

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

Silence reigned in his room while outside Molly, Arthur, Kingsley and Bill were packing all the documents and reports that had been stored at number twelve Grimmauld Place. The house wasn't safe anymore. Not since Sirius had fallen.

Remus blinked. The room was as gloomy as ever, only now there wouldn't be any colour, everything was strangely monochrome. Hardly any light was falling through the thick curtains and left him in a sea of green velvet he could drown in, disappear in. From time to time Remus wondered whether going to his room would have been smarter, more logical. Unfortunately, logic faded away in times like these.

He caught himself staring at Sirius' scarce belongings. A discarded sweater, the trousers Remus had given him before he left his cottage, a bottle of Firewhiskey, a Quidditch magazine, an old sock underneath the bed.

Remus had not left Sirius' room for three days. He had put an enchantment on the door, shutting the world out. Only at night, he perforce sneaked out in order to use the toilet and drink some water. When they had told him about Sirius' crime back in 1981, he had been devastated. He had cried for Lily and James, for Wormtail, for Harry, for everything and everyone he had lost. But he could not bring himself to grieve for Sirius. Sirius, the traitor. Sirius, the murderer. He had slept with neither black-haired women nor men and a pair of grey eyes could ruin the prospect of sleep for days, but he had not grieved for Sirius.

This time was different. Now, he allowed himself to admit the loss. But he still could not weep for the friend he just lost a second time. His throat was painfully constricted and his eyes were burning from lack of sleep. Remus was caught in a stupor, seeing Sirius fall over and over again, the horror abruptly replaced by memories of a laughing Sirius, a raging Sirius, a Sirius kissing him.

Remus could not eat. He had tried the first day when he thought he could pretend a second time. He found out that living through hell once did not make it easier the second time around.

A knock at the door broke the silence.

"Remus? It's Albus."

No request for admittance, no questions, just this. And Remus got up, straightening his robes, his hair, his body, his soul. His wand felt strange in his hands, cold and alien, belonging to the outside world. He murmured the enchantment to lift the spell and the door opened. Dumbledore came in slowly, looking stern and gaunt himself. Had he always been that old?

"Remus, I won't ask whether you're feeling alright because clearly, you are not. I would not invade your privacy if it wasn't important." Dumbledore paused and his blue eyes were full of sympathy. He crossed the distance and put a hand on Remus' shoulder. This simple touch broke the stupor and Remus blinked, bewildered.

"I'm sorry, headmaster," he said hoarsely, voice like sandpaper from days of disuse.

"No need to be, no need to be. Sit down, Remus!" And the older man pushed him gently into a chair. Remus felt suddenly ashamed of himself, of what he must look like, unshaven, red-eyed, starved.

"I must inform you about Sirius' will."

"His body is hardly cold," Remus said tetchily.

"Except there is no body," said Dumbledore calmly. "Remus, I am not here to torture you with bureaucracy. He left the house to his godson, which I deem highly provident. But Sirius Black has left something in my possession, to be handed over to you in case of his demise. It's a letter."

"A letter?"

"Yes, indeed. You might want to read it," suggested Dumbledore with an encouraging smile.

"Very well," Remus answered automatically.

"I don't know what it is about but I imagine it to be of utmost importance," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling with some kind of understanding Remus wouldn't have expected there.

"I don't understand," breathed Remus. His brain was still not working properly.

"You will. Just read it."

"Yes."

Remus felt uncomfortable under Dumbledore's intense gaze.

"He also left you a certain amount of money."

"I don't want it," said Remus without thinking.

"I never thought you did," answered Dumbledore. "However, it is his will, not yours. Sirius was a generous man and you should not refuse what is willingly given to you."

Remus nodded reluctantly. The famous wizard fumbled with his robes and finally pulled out a letter. Remus reached out a shaky hand and got hold of the plain envelope.

"Thanks, professor," he said absent-mindedly, already focussed on the piece of paper.

"I'll leave you to it. We're going to leave Grimmauld Place for good tomorrow morning."

Remus bit his lip but nodded understanding.

"I am sorry for your loss, Remus."

"Thank you, professor. But it isn't just my loss, it is also Harry's."

"Good evening," he heard Dumbledore say after a while but didn't notice when he finally left the room.

Remus found himself unable to breathe, now that he... He just stared at the letter in his hands. A letter from Sirius. He slid down the chair and sat on the floor as if the ground offered safety. Then he drew out his wand and blocked the door once more.

Now, he could open it. Sirius' letter. Carefully, very carefully and with trembling hands he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. A note fell out.

Swallow your pride and take the damn money. I want you to have it.

In case you refuse, everything goes to Umbridge's office.

Good Gods, Sirius knew him…had known him too well. Remus suppressed a dry sob that bordered close to hysteria. He had never been able to say no to Sirius, not for long anyway. He put the note back into the envelope and unfolded the letter. He blinked at the sight of Sirius' elegant cursive handwriting. Aristocratic. Beautiful. Remus took a deep breath and started to read.

Remus,

You are not going to like this letter, since receiving it means only one thing: I am dead.

I do not know how it happened, maybe I died of boredom in the lovely house of my childhood or I died in battle. I really hope it is the latter because, Merlin, you know me, I always preferred acting to thinking and yes, I want to go with a BANG and a little bit of heroic glory. I am a vain bastard after all.

Remus smiled.

The reason for writing this letter is a lesson I learned in Azkaban. All missed chances are gone for good. Have you counted how many chances I let go, laughing or sulking? I feel sorry for many things and these regrets were haunting me in Azkaban because they lasted the longest and hurt the most. After twelve years of darkness and isolation I must say that there are three major regrets in my life.

First, that I switched with Peter and believed you to be the traitor.

Second, that I chose revenge over responsibility and condemned Harry to a life with the Dursleys.

Third, that I never told you that I love you.

Remus gasped and almost dropped the letter.

It is true, you know, you are the love of my life and I have not told you once. I could not pluck up the courage to do so. I have never said 'I love you' to anyone and I will die without saying it. I, Sirius Black, Gryffindor to the bone, am a coward. At nineteen, I was too stupid to realise what was in front of me and I ran away because it scared the shit out of me. You do remember the time I spent abroad just before James' wedding? That was because of you. I realised what you meant to me when you told me to piss off. I drank too much and shagged half of Europe in order to forget you. Never men though. I just could not.

After Azkaban, I have nothing to offer you. I am an empty shell only sustained by bitterness and the thirst for revenge. This house is driving me mad and I have seen your frown when it comes to me and Firewhiskey. Merlin, I am a mess and you deserve someone whole in every respect. Apart from that, I cannot bear to be turned down. My pride survived Azkaban unscathed. You were right the other day, you know? Back then, we never acted like a couple. We never made any plans, we never saw the future. Perhaps that is why we never had one.

I always thought that James kept the Marauders together but now I know that it has been you. It has always been you in the centre. The funny thing is that you do not even know of your gift. You try to hide in the shadows and to be nobody's responsibility while everyone is trying to please you, to get noticed by you, no matter what. I know I did, I still do. The moon might dominate your life, but you have always been my sun, my light. Gods, that sounds maudlin, does it not? But it is true, I should have bathed in your light more often. Just because I never had the guts to tell you, do not think you were not loved or persuade yourself that you are better off alone. I know you like to do that. I do not…did not have the strength to break the walls around you. Being with you always hurt. I know you never needed me as much as I need you. I owe you so much. You kept me sane and all I can do now is to help you to go on. Is it presumptuous to assume that my death will pain you? I think not.

Please, Moony, do not give up. You are the last Marauder and the strongest of us all. Take care of Harry for me and promise me to let someone in, to show someone the real you. My love was not enough, cowardly and broken as I am. You deserve so much more. You deserve the best.

I am so sorry. I love you.

Sirius

When Remus finished the letter he realised that he was crying. Crying for the love he had lost because now he realised what Sirius had been to him. He cried because his heart was broken, something he had not done for over a decade. The last time, he had cried his heart out for the same man but had not been able, had refused to name the feeling.

He let out a howl of agony and was startled by the inhuman, no, only too human sound.

Only now, after his friend had died, he could admit to himself that he loved Sirius. He had loved the reckless and wild boy of his childhood. He had loved the arrogant and cocky teenager, who had enjoyed life too much for his own good, and who had left the family that could not live up to his expectations and picked a new one. He had loved the exuberant and easy-going man, whose never-ending vitality and joy had been sucked out by Dementors, and whose fierce loyalty had brought him nothing but misery. Sirius' spontaneous acts of affection had so often surprised him and his deep untamed feelings had scared him. Remus realised that he had also loved, no, still loved the broken man, the ghost that survived the hells of Azkaban.

He sat for hours in the same position, staring at the letter in his lap, his vision blurred by tears. Remus recollected all the happy and heartbreaking memories and it took a long time to remember everything. The day he met Sirius on the Hogwarts Express. A morning in autumn when Sirius ate ten eggs in a row to win a bet. Sirius' beaming face when they won the House Cup in fourth year. The night when a black-haired boy came to comfort him at the saddest Christmas of his childhood. Sirius rolling on the floor, howling with laughter at the sight of James' stunned face when Lily Evans finally agreed to go out with him. The need in Sirius' eyes when they made love for the first time. Remus remembered Sirius' infamous sulks, his mercurial temper, his unprecedented generosity. The day Sirius betrayed his trust and sent Snape into the Shack. The night Sirius changed into Padfoot for the first time. A detention in third year when Sirius set McGonagall's robes on fire. Sirius and James hexing students on their way to Potions. Sirius watching him when he thought he was asleep.

It was utterly dark when he looked up. A stale and bitter taste was all that was left. A thousand regrets. This and the letter that could have changed everything if it had been read earlier. Three words that could have changed his life, if said earlier.

Remus swallowed hard and tried to regain his usual composure, feeling shattered and strangely blurred. He stood up and stumbled, his legs cramped and numb. After a couple of minutes, he walked stiffly to the window and gripped the handle, clung to the frame - an anchor to this world, to life.

They had been fools. Why hadn't he realised his feelings before it was too late? Why hadn't he shown Sirius that he was loved as well, even after Azkaban? The world of what ifs was threatening to suffocate him and Remus needed to close his eyes to swallow the pain. When he opened his eyes nothing had changed. Remus searched the nocturnal sky and tried to find the Dog Star but the night was clouded and Sirius was nowhere to be seen…

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.

fin