Not mine, or there would be no inspiration for this fic. Un'betaed. Please review.

Remus hasn't showered since it happened. Since Sirius… he tries not to think of it that way. He tries to think of it as the day Harry was saved again, the day they protected the children. Not that it really matters how he thinks about it; he hasn't spoken to anyone since they got back. Albus excused his absence at the meeting after, or at least he assumes that was what had happened. No one came to bang down his door or force it open with magic. They had enough magic to do that, just not enough magic to bring Sirius back.

He hasn't showered since, hasn't washed his face, brushed his teeth. He's sure he looks disgusting, but they don't have any mirrors in their bedroom. In his bedroom. He can't let water scrub away the last pieces of Sirius he has. They'd kissed good morning. Sirius had touched his face, wrapped his arms around Remus' waist and nuzzled his head into the werewolf's shoulder before they went down for breakfast. Skin cells come off with contact, it's basic biology. They are the last pieces of Sirius he has, and he isn't about to lose them to some stupid water.

He wonders if people complain about the smell, about how Remus lies in bed all day, nuzzling the sheets with his eyes closed and pretending Sirius is just in the washroom. Or better yet, he's off drinking with James and will be home soon. He'd lain that way for a month those 15 years ago, when he'd thought everyone had left him. Minerva had brought him food, Severus left potions outside the door, and, after a month, Albus had brought him hope. He wonders if Albus will try to convince him to fight again, or if he's give up on the broken old teacher with too many scars. He wonders all sorts of things, but can't bring himself to care. Those are outside-world things, beyond the locked door and soundproofed walls and layers upon layers of defensive spells.

He'd magicked himself away, and he knows how to do that well after years of hiding. The silencing charms had gone up so he wouldn't scare the others, if he needed to scream or wail or attack. But he hadn't. He had simply curled up on the bed, their bed, his bed. Not even collapsed or thrown or fainted. Just curled up and went away, as gracefully and silently as Sirius had gone.