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Chapter Text

The world was sweltering and the sky was sweating, as if rain was hanging in the air from the way humidity flooded the sky. It was the type of day that made Sirius wonder how the clouds stayed afloat, heavy as they were with condensation.

The pool was sticky with it, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to curl up in an air-conditioned room with a glass of ice water. It made his throat itch just think about it, and he turned to look longingly at the row of houses across from the pool.

Sirius leaned against the counter with a yawn, doing his best to stay out of the sun, lingering right under the overhang and relishing the cool. He had a knack for not thinking things through fully, and evidently he hadn’t realized exactly how miserable it would be to stand in the sun for hours on end. Job opportunity at the pool had sounded far more appealing in the papers.

“Sirius! Get out here!” James yelled, rolling his eyes and brandishing a towel in Sirius’s general direction. He snapped it twice before turning back to shield his eyes against the constant glare.

“But the sun!” Sirius protested, retreating further under the overhang and trying to shrink into the wall and pretend he wasn’t there. The brick was blissfully cool against his back. When James turned exasperatedly to look at him, he pouted. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d taken the job in the first place. Mostly to get out of the house — every second out of that place was a blessing itself, even if the Manor was flooded with cold.

Of course it was, chilled to the bone with his mother’s harsh yells and meticulous upkeep. But he’d rather burn to death than live the rest of his life shut away there.

He could see James barely biting back curses, not wanting to get in trouble for swearing around young, impressionable kids. He settled for waving a towel at Sirius instead.

“It’s summer, of course it’s hot! What did you expect?”

“Oh, fine,” Sirius grumbled. He pulled at his t-shirt, sticky with sweat and chlorine, clinging to his skin in a wholly unpleasant way. He walked out as slowly as possible, not wanting to sacrifice his respite from the weather. A drop of sweat rolled even further down his back. Cringing heavily and arching his back, he pasted a smile on his face and joined James where he was handing out towels.

“Do you really need my help?” Sirius groaned, because it felt like the sun was already burning him, a slow slide from white to red. “Really?”

As much as he loved to complain, Sirius also loved the pool. He loved pretty much anywhere away from home, but the pool especially, with James and the strange assortment of regular pool-goers. He’d been working here a few months now, and the prime of summer was starting to hit. Now he understood why they’d been so desperate for employees at the beginning.

“Can someone check memberships for me?” Peter called out from behind the counter, and Sirius dropped all the towels in his haste to take over. Shade. Relief. He ran around the pool, skidding dangerously past the huge signs that screamed no running, and he vaulted over the counter in one fluid leap.

“I’ve got it,” he grinned, ignoring James’s exasperated cries from behind him and the pile of sodden towels.

Peter just rose one eyebrow, as if to ask really? He’d learned not to question things by now, and this was tame by Sirius’s standards.

Sirius swore he could feel the shade against his back as strongly as the sun, beating down over his reddening arms and drying the sweat that soaked his forehead and shirt. He let out a breath and sucked in the air, which was cooler in the shade. It soothed his parched throat. He busied himself with the member list, shuffling papers around to look busy and smiling towards the entrance.

Sirius had seen his fair share of strange people in his time, and there were enough people who wore long sleeves or trousers to go swimming that it wasn’t abnormal. Usually, though, they stayed away on the worst of days. On a day like this where the humidity in the air soaked through the towels and made the air itself feel like a swimming pool, they’d seek refuge by the indoor pool, or stay at home, happily air conditioned.

Usually they didn’t come limping up to the counter, crutches swinging, clad in a woolen-knit jumper.

Except, that’s exactly what happened.

“I’d like to renew a membership here from last summer,” the redhead girl beside the jumper-boy said, slapping a card down on the counter. “And he needs to renew his too, but he lost the card,” she added, jerking her thumb in the boy’s direction.

Sirius was still gawping at him. It had to be over one hundred degrees out, and he was wearing a jumper. A knitted jumper with ugly stripes that somehow still looked good on him, with the way it hung loose over his frame.

The boy quirked an eyebrow at him. It would’ve been more suave if there wasn’t already a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face from underneath a nest of tawny curls. His hair matched his jumper perfectly, somehow, and the sunlight that managed to worm its way under the overhang lit him up with a glow that didn’t betray how miserable he must feel.

“Is there something wrong?” the girl asked, looking between Sirius and the jumper-boy, and Sirius quickly shook himself out of his reverie.

“No, no,” he said quickly, grabbing the membership and nearly dropping it in his haste. Swearing in the back of his mind, he quickly punched in the number of her membership, charging another year to her account. The entire time he could feel the boy watching him — his unnaturally amber eyes, piercing in a way that was almost disconcerting. He did his best not to look up. It was more difficult than he’d anticipated, especially with the impulsive nature that seemed to follow him around wherever he went, waiting for the most random of things to jump out and catch him by surprise.

But he kept his head down as he charged the card and then slid it back across the counter.

“And you, what’s your name?” Sirius asked, looking up and meeting the boy’s eyes again, trying not to look away. It was like he’d forgotten all ettiquette on this front. He couldn’t remember what he was supposed to do — was he supposed to maintain eye contact? Was this too long? Should he look away now?

He felt completely thrown off balance.

“Remus Lupin,” the boy said quietly. He shifted on his crutches and wiped another bead of sweat from where it had been slowly making its way down his face. Sirius wondered again why he was wearing a jumper, of all things.

“Right,” Sirius said. “And how d’you spell that?”

When he finally handed a new ID card to Remus and waved them through to the pool area, he couldn’t help but stare after them, at his awkward navigation of the crutches and the jumper still weighing heavily over his shoulders.

There was something about the way Remus walked with his shoulders hunched forwards — pausing between blundering steps and nearly slipping as he went — that drew Sirius’s attention towards him.

A group of kids walked up to the register then, laughing, towels slung over their shoulders, and Sirius ripped his gaze away from Remus Lupin. He tried to concentrate on his job, not that punching numbers into a register was especially exciting.

It wasn’t until later when Peter relieved him of duty that he remembered Remus Lupin.

Sirius was standing off to the side of the pool, surveying the clamor and splashing pool water. He preferred to stand on the side with lane lines — it felt calmer there, less noise and energy swamping him with every second he watched. He couldn’t take excitement 24/7, especially not when the day was already so hot that he felt sluggish and slow.

Even far away from the chaos, he hung off to the side. There was a lot of standing around for his job, watching after people and making sure they were okay, and Sirius had found that he could get away with standing in the shade of a tree.

Despite it all, he found his gaze being irrevocably drawn towards the bloke who had come in earlier, draped in a knitted jumper and now covered with a sheen of sweat. His leg was propped up on the chair, and Sirius distantly wondered what was wrong with it. There wasn’t a cast, nor any visible injury that Sirius could see. Not a sign.

His friend Lily was already in the water, swimming laps. He watched as she swam. She was obviously good — Sirius had come to be able to pick out talented swimmers from the rest, despite knowing nothing about swimming in the slightest. It was obvious from the easy power in her body, the quick turns and practiced strokes, that she was a swimmer. Sirius looked back over at Remus, and wondered if he was a swimmer too.

He wanted to know. He wondered if he could ask.

Sirius’s train of thought was interrupted a moment later by James, who walked over to him, carrying a pile of towels and looking rather disgruntled.

“You’re the worst,” he said, wiping sweat off his own forehead and only serving to mess up his hair further. “Dick. I’m taking counter duty for the next hour. That’s what you get for abandoning me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Sirius said, still distracted by Remus and Lily.

James followed his gaze to where Lily was swimming and let out a low whistle, following her path through the water.

“She’s good,” he said under his breath, towels forgotten as he watched her cut through the water.

“Yeah,” Sirius said absentmindedly. Remus had pulled out a book now and was immersed in it, seeming not to hear to water splashing around him and the screams of kids. It was like he was lost in his own world, the kind of concentration Sirius could only ever achieve when he had an idea in his mind.

An idea like the one that was currently niggling at the back of his head. The idea of understanding Remus.

“Right, I’m going to the shade,” James said, tossing the towels to Sirius and walking easily back over to the counter, spinning around to type in a number and then lean back against the wall with a yawn.

Sirius turned back to Remus. He couldn’t keep his gaze away.

Finally, he snapped.

“Okay, how do you do it?” he asked, walking over to take a seat next to Remus, feeling the straps of the beach chair hot against the back of his legs. He shifted uncomfortably against the heat, but quickly refocused his gaze on Remus.

“Do what?” Remus responded after a beat. He didn’t even look up from his book, his eyes still moving steadily over the words, devouring them like they were far more important than Sirius. Sirius felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach that came along with being ignored.

“It’s the middle of summer,” Sirius elaborated, feeling suddenly awkward and imposing. “It’s somewhere around 100 degrees.”

“Mmm,” Remus said absentmindedly. He was chewing on the inside of his mouth in concentration, still hunched over the pages. A drop of sweat fell from his forehead onto the words, and his hair hung limp around him from the humidity that clouded the air. Sirius wanted to grab his book, to force him to look up and take in Sirius’s face with the same rapt attention that he was giving to his book.

“How are you wearing a jumper in the middle of summer?”

The boy looked annoyed now, and he flipped a page pointedly, eyes scanning the page with a deliberation that made Sirius wonder if he was actually reading or if he was just trying to send a message.

Sirius knew he should leave now. It was written across the boy’s face and shown in every movement, but something about the atmosphere compelled Sirius to stay. He was sweating and annoyed, and something about that gave him an odd courage.

“How can you stand the heat? I’m dying, and I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt.”

Remus closed his eyes momentarily as though shielding them against the sun. He took a deep breath, and Sirius could see the air travel through him, in the expanding of his chest underneath the jumper. In, pause, out. In, pause, out. In, pause, out.

Then he opened them again and turned to Sirius, pinning him with that striking amber-orange gaze that made Sirius forget entirely who he was. He tried to read if their were any emotions reflected in Remus’s eyes, wondering if the gaze meant anything or if it was another appearance — another thing that Remus couldn’t help, like the way his hair curled around his ears. Another feature that told Sirius nothing, a hook and lure that reeled him in only to reveal nothing on the other side.

“I don’t notice the heat,” Remus ground out. His fingers were tight against the page, and his eyes were a permanent fixture on the roaming sentences, black ink that looked out of place against the heat of the day. Sirius felt something building inside him, and he knew he should leave. He should remove himself from the situation before things went too far.

"Of course you feel the heat!" Sirius said instead, staring at Remus's flushed face. He still couldn't tell if Remus was actually reading or staring at the pages for show, because the way his eyes stuttered across the page gave away nothing. The sun was beating down on the both of them, casting strange patterns across Sirius's legs between the lines of the umbrella, and he tried to focus on the patterns instead of the roiling emotions building inside of him. "Why are you wearing a jumper?"

Remus took another deep breath, snapped the book closed, and glared up at Sirius.

"Can you not take a hint?" he asked, words as brittle and sharp as the manner in which he'd closed the book. "Leave me alone."

“Fine, but there's no need to be so rude about it," Sirius shot right back. He stared at the light dancing across his legs, trying to steady his breathing and knowing he should leave before he slipped into a state that would be near-impossible to get out of. He knew how this would end up, because it had happened before. Before, when his parents ignored him and stared right through him like he was invisible, not worth their gaze. And now — now he was practically invisible to Remus Lupin too, an irksome fly that wouldn’t stop buzzing.

"Look, I'm trying to read," Remus said with a sigh, gesturing to his book and wiping a hand across his brow. He was still flushed and panting slightly, looking like he'd run a mile instead of sitting in the sun and reading a book.

"Well, I'm sorry," Sirius said, trying to keep his voice even. There was a pressure behind his eyes that he hated with every fiber of his being.

At that moment, Lily pushed herself out of the pool.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, directing the words at Remus, a worried frown reflected in the crease of her eyebrows.

"Fine," he said. "I was just reading." He turned back to the book again, flipped open to what appeared to be a random page, and continued to read with no further comment. Sirius took one last look, at the piercing eyes that were back to scanning page after page, at Lily's protective posture, and then he turned on his heel and walked sharply away.

He couldn't stand to be in the sun any longer, no matter what James had said. The heat was drilling through him, only further fuelling his bout of emptiness. Sunburn was no longer his greatest worry — not even the pounding in his temple that was surely a product of the heat and his sleep deprivation. No, instead it was inside his head, the lurking truth of his existence. Of his worth.

"Back again, I see," James said somewhat sarcastically when Sirius marched over to him. When Sirius didn’t respond, he took a closer look at the evident distress on Sirius's face. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going," Sirius said bluntly. He picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, avoiding James’s eyes. "I can't take this."

“What —?" James stared after him hopelessly, but Sirius was already walking out the door. "Sirius, hold on, I'm coming!"

Sirius didn't stop or look back. There was too much restless energy brewing inside him, and if he stopped moving, it would surely come out in other ways. Ways that he'd been trying to avoid, recently.

James caught up with him anyways a few minutes later, hurrying along and slowing to a walk when he reached Sirius.

"I left Peter in charge," James said quietly. He handed a canteen of water over to Sirius, who took it without a second thought, taking a gulp and relishing the almost-too-cold sting of the water in the back of his throat. It was soothing, and it stilled him slightly. Calmed down the heat that simmered so close to the surface. "What happened?"

"Did you see that guy that came in, the one on crutches?" Sirius burst out. He tugged at the end of his hair, delighting in the sting. "The one wearing a jumper?"

"Yeah. And?"

"I talked to him," Sirius said, feeling more ridiculous with every word he spoke. "I asked him why he was wearing a jumper in summer, and he kept — he kept ignoring me. He kept reading his book, like I wasn't even there, and… maybe I was being rude, I had no right to ask, but…” Sirius trailed off, taking a deep breath. "What is it James? What is it about me that makes everybody want to fucking ignore me?"

James looked at him, and there was a shift of recognition in his gaze.

“Ah. Sirius, you —”

"Don't," Sirius said tiredly, cutting him off before he could even begin. "Please don't bother. I know I'm being stupid."

"No, it isn’t you.”

Sirius let out another sigh and took another drink from the canteen. He focused on the cold, like he’d learned was easiest. Focusing on something besides his feelings. Cold, cold, ice.

"Why did he ignore me?" Sirius asked, and James frowned at that. It was a frown Sirius recognized, one that let him know he was about to be told off.

"Don't go blaming that boy," James warned, stopping. They were in the middle of a parking lot now. "Just because he reminds you of your parents doesn't mean —"

"Yeah, I know!" Sirius interrupted, and he felt limp, wrung out, like the air after a storm.

“Maybe you know,” James said, his calm voice making up for the both of them, “But you’re still blaming him for how you feel.”

It was then that the sky opened up above him, rain pouring down, grey and beautiful and soaking through his clothes. Sirius stared up at the sky, at the sudden pent up release of water from the heavens, and he shook his head.

“He got under my skin somehow,” Sirius whispered to James. “There was something about him that made me angry. I don’t know if it was because he was like Reg, or… I don’t know.”

“I know,” James said quietly. He sat down on the ground, ignoring the fact that it was the middle of a rain-soaked parking lot, and Sirius sat down beside him. “I know.”

The thing was, James did know. He was one of the only ones who knew, who could see through the careful façade of confidence he put up at every turn. Underneath that, James was the only one who knew how unstable it was, a mess of emotions underneath a shell that could be cracked if someone even found the slightest weak point in just the right place, and it appeared that Remus had found that.

Now he felt split open and raw in a way that made him put up that second barrier, the one of unfeeling that protected him a second time from the turmoil inside. He knew it was lurking, and he knew that nothingness was better than what he held beneath.

Sirius returned home that night, to another place he'd be ignored. Shunted aside.

He sat in his room and wished he hadn’t put up so many walls, because now he barely knew what was behind them all.

* * *

When Sirius went back to the pool the next day, the weather was notably less horrible than the day before. The sky was covered in a thick layer of graying clouds, and a soft drizzle fell all around. Sirius loved these days, when he could take his time walking down the sidewalk to the tune of rain sputtering against the concrete, all endless grey.

The colors of the world felt in sync on these days — it was all grey. The skies, the rain, the concrete. There weren’t clashing colors that made him cringe and feel out of control, no yellow sun and blue sky and brightness.

Just grey.

He was in a good mood by the time he reached the pool, bag slung over his shoulder, shirt speckled with the telltale sign of fallen rain.

“Hey,” James said casually when he got to the pool, tossing a towel at him. “No time to lag around, tosser. Go put the towels away.”

Sirius rolled his eyes but grabbed the towels with a grin, starting to move them inside so they wouldn’t be rendered completely useless by the rain. James could read him better than most anybody — he didn’t tiptoe around Sirius because he’d had a bad day yesterday.

And most of all, he knew how to make Sirius feel useful. Even though he had trouble concentrating on boring tasks, having something to do gave him a destination of sorts. He started stacking the towels and restocking the snack bar, exchanging idle conversations as people filtered slowly into the pool.

The stream of visitors was markedly slower than usual. It was almost nice, to have a break from the hassle and screaming. Instead, it was all little kids being hurried off before the rain got too bad. Sirius was organizing the back room when he heard a voice from behind him, the quiet one that was almost swept up in the song that rain pattered against the surface of the water.

It was Remus. He knew it immediately, and there was something in the sound of his voice against the backdrop of rain that dug a tiny pit in Sirius’s stomach.

Sirius had far too much experiences with these pools of dread that seemed to cling to him — like he was collecting them, day after day. They started small, barely noticeable, merely a twinge inside of him. And then they grew. They grew, until they filled him up and he had to escape, to never again look at the thing that caused them.

He had to stop this one before it grew and swallowed him whole. He couldn’t let Remus do that to him unknowingly — couldn’t let Remus become something he dreaded.

Remus was still limping, although his crutches were gone, and he was still wearing a sweater This one was even bigger than the last one, and yet more threadbare, looking completely worn down like he’d been wearing it for years on end with no intention of stopping.

He limped slowly over to a beach chair and sat down, kicking his leg up while Lily jumped in the pool and immediately started to swim laps. Sirius watched as Remus glanced up at the sky, annoyance reflected in his gaze — his eyes looked grey today, something about the way they reflected the sky. But even grey, they were startling as ever, like a bright grey. If there was such a thing.

He didn’t even look at Sirius, just stared in frustration as the rain coated his face and clung to the knit of his sweater. He pulled a book out of his bag and hunched over.

Oh. He was trying to shield it from the rain, Sirius realized, keeping the pages from smearing and soaking through with rainwater.

He walked over to grab an umbrella, one of the large ones with stands that spanned the space of multiple chairs, and he dragged it over to where Remus was hunched. Customer service was the most important part of his job, after all.

“Hey,” he said when Remus looked up at him. He dragged the umbrella over and propped it up, clicking it into place. “I thought you might want this.”

Remus looked from him to the umbrella, looking confused.

“Look, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. I’m… trying to make up for it. You were reading, and I thought you might want to keep your book dry.”

“Thanks,” Remus said. He carefully slipped a bookmark into the page and set it down on his lap, looking up at Sirius in a way that didn’t exactly seem like an invitation to sit, but Sirius took it as such anyway because it was the most welcoming he’d seen Remus.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my job.”

“Oh,” Remus said. He almost sounded disappointed — Sirius had a slight sinking feeling that he’d said something wrong —but he brushed over it quickly.

“What book is that anyway that’s got you so absorbed?”

Remus’s eyes lit up at that, looking over at the book eagerly, fingers clenching in his lap. He opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, and drooped slightly.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered. He clenched his hands in his lap again. “Nothing at all, just boring stuff.” He shrugged. “It’s not interesting,” he reiterated, looking away.

“It’s got to be more interesting than my job,” Sirius said with a dry laugh, looking around at the pool.

“No, it’s okay,” Remus said.

“Please?” Sirius wasn’t sure if he actually cared or if he just wanted to get Remus to talk, but it didn’t really matter which in the end.

“Fine,” Remus said with a sigh, but Sirius didn’t miss the way his eyes brightened and his whole face seemed to glow. “It’s stupid, really. But…well, it’s about dragons. They’re sentient, but they don’t really realize they are — they’re not as cognizant as humans. Anyways, their homeland...”

His voice trailed into the pounding rain as he talked, splattering against the umbrella. It blurred away the rest of the world until Remus’s bright grey eyes and animated hand movements were all he could really see. The tiny pit of dread had faded entirely into nothingness, and instead their was a tiny coal of happiness in its place, and a similar coal-like glow hummed around Remus.

“…and right now they’re falling from the sky.”

Sirius smiled over at him, and Remus looked away self-consciously.

“That’s cool,” Sirius said. “It sounds like a good book. Sorry for being obnoxious yesterday, I wouldn’t have wanted to be interrupted either.

Remus laughed, and at that moment, James’s voice rang from across the pool.

“Sirius, get over here and stop avoiding work!” Sirius yawned and stuck his tongue out at James, feeling a miniscule drop of rain land on it. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head, each drop making him smile.

“Have fun with your book,” he said, and he smiled tentatively at Remus.

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus said, waving him off. “Whatever. Go do your work.”

So that’s what Sirius did, jogging over — point-blank ignoring all the painted signs that told him not to run — and replacing Peter at the counter. He glanced back over his shoulder once to find Remus immersed in his book again, thumbing at the corner of a page, lips moving slightly like he was mouthing the words as he read them.

He looked back to find James watching him, one eyebrow quirked, and Sirius ignored him. He didn’t need James to remind him of his meltdown yesterday, or anything else that might follow that train of thought.

“You made up with him then?” James asked nonetheless, and Sirius barely refrained from rolling his eyes, which was his constant state when he was in James’s company.

“Yes,” he sniffed in a way that made him feel superior, looking away and pretending to shuffle some files into place. “Of course.”

He heard James laughing from behind him, and couldn’t resist cracking a grin himself.

“He’s not actually that bad,” he said, shrugging. “He likes reading a lot, wouldn’t stop talking about his book, whatever it was about.”

“Not that you actually listened to him, did you?” James asked, and Sirius looked back to see him leaning against the wall, one eye closed, shielded from the rain.

“I did!” Sirius insisted, and proceeded to launch into the story of dragons who fell from the sky. James looked suitably impressed.

“Well, I must say I wasn’t expecting that. Usually you tune me out halfway through the conversation, but I guess I’ve been usurped by the new guy, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes again — he was unable to suppress it this time. He didn’t mind James’s teasing — he never had, but he was especially carefree now, when there was still an ember burning in his stomach and radiating warmth throughout him. When the rain was still pounding around him.

Other people hated it — they said the rain dampened things, that the grey was a wet blanket over everything. For Sirius, it fueled the coal instead of putting it out, a reverse kind of fire. It made sense because it didn’t make sense, because nothing about Sirius or his mind had ever made sense in any way, shape, or form.

He was glowing from the inside out, from the time he talked to Remus to the time he left with James by his side. James seemed to notice it too.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” he asked, looking over at him and kicking at a puddle as he walked, watching the rain splash down in an extra shower. James wrinkled his nose at the water as it soaked his jeans from the ankle upwards but Sirius didn’t pay him any mind.

He didn’t know how to answer exactly, because that’s how his mood worked. Strange things — textures, feelings, auras he could never quite explain. It was like he had a whole other pocket of emotions that weren’t available to other people but were spread out in an array in front of him.

Remus, the rain, the pool — it was a whole different emotion, designed entirely for him. Something that James would never be able to understand.

So instead he shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said, smiling down at his pair of shoes, even though he had never particularly liked them. “I’m happy, that’s all.”

James laughed, and Sirius could feel the eyes staring at the side of his head, but he didn’t look over. It was a soft atmosphere, everything blending together into one, with the water gracing him and dripping down the back of his neck. He skipped a step, the energy building up in him all at once, and he started laughing, feeling all too giddy.

“I can tell,” James said in amusement. “Wanna stay at mine tonight?”

Sirius wrinkled his nose again, not wanting to think about what would come later if he returned home. He almost wished it was back to how it had been when he was younger, when his parents would yell and frown at him. At least then he’d been a person instead of a ghost. Now, he was the ghost. Less than a ghost, actually, because it wasn’t that they saw through him  — they didn’t see him at all.

He wasn’t there. He didn’t get a place at the dinner table, he wasn’t enough to be granted their words. On rare occasions he got disapproving glances. Sometimes he would get a sharp word. But for the most part, he wasn’t a part of their family. He wasn’t even a disgrace.

He was invisible.

Part of him liked the rain even more for that, because it couldn’t pass through him. It was always pounding against him, keeping him solid so he wouldn’t float away into a different world where he was unmoored and unconscious and nonexistent.

“I shouldn’t,” Sirius said regretfully. “I’ve been away too much recently, and Regulus…” he trailed off. “I don’t know. I don’t want to leave him there alone.”

“Okay,” James shrugged. “But Regulus can fend for himself.”

Sirius tensed instinctively. It was nothing James had said, because James was always careful about his words in a way that Sirius never had the patience to be. It was the thought — the feeling — of his family. The duty he had to Regulus even though he was invisible.

Regulus teetered on the cusp, stuck between the family and Sirius, neither good nor bad, and Sirius had taken it upon himself to be there and help steer Regulus in the right direction.

“I don’t know if he can,” Sirius frowned. “He’s strange.”

“You can’t protect him forever,” James pointed out, in a way that was entirely too reasonable for Sirius’s tastes. “You’re going to have to let him out into the real world at some point, you know. He can’t be under your wing for his whole life. He’s not one to be influenced, anyways.”

“I know,” Sirius snapped, looking away. He tried to hold onto the coal in his stomach. He tried not to let it be extinguished, because he knew there were things he had to work through, but at the moment that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to sit in the rain and let it fall on him, wanted to think about Remus’s smile and the way his eyes glowed, wanted to hold onto the feeling that he was worth something, that his life wasn’t a complete waste.

He wanted to splash in puddles like a normal kid. He wanted to laugh, to yell at the thunder and count seconds until lightning, to figure out how far away the storm was, to stay outside and find the rainbow, to drink hot chocolate and dance in the rain.

He wanted to live, wanted to live in a way that he’d never been able to do.

But daydreams could only last so long. That was only acceptable at night, when things were  dark. Night was a realm where he could pretend and nothing had to have bearing on the highlights of the day.

So when James fell silent and kicked at another puddle, Sirius sighed and turned to face him.

“I know you’re trying to help,” he said quietly. “I know — I…” he trailed off, not even sure what he was going to say. “Can we go to the park? I don’t want to go home yet.”

James smiled at him, looking relieved in a way, and he nodded. “Only if you race me there.”

And he took off without another word, sprinting like his life depending on it, slipping dangerously over the grass and misplacing every other step. There was a spray of water in his path and Sirius wasted no time in taking off after him, creating his own trail of water droplets that rained down from the sky after him — a second rain, splashing against him, against the ground.

He closed his eyes and let the wind flood over him as he chased James to the park. He was okay still. He was okay. He was okay. He was okay.

* * *

The next day when he got to the pool it was a strange medium weather, not raining, not hot, only slightly foggy and moist. The air still felt heavy and dense, slightly humid, but the temperature was so even that Sirius couldn’t say if it was warm or cool.

It was just there, like his skin belonged in it, like he was soaking in nothingness.

Remus was there again too, with his book and with Lily, who was swimming laps seamlessly.

Sirius couldn’t help himself — the coal in his stomach was still flaming and radiating a warmth through him, so he went to sit next to Remus, who looked up at his approach with an mild surprise.

“Hi,” he said. He didn’t close his book, but he didn’t ignore Sirius — Sirius counted that as a score.

“Hi,” Sirius said back, yawning and slinging his legs up to the chair. He and James had stayed at the park far longer than was probably practical last night, and Sirius hadn’t crept home until his eyes could no longer adjust to the dark, let alone stay open.

Remus stared at him for a second.

“You never told me your name,” he said after a minute, regarding Sirius carefully.

“So I didn’t,” Sirius mused, shrugging. “It’s Sirius.”

“It’s not that serious,” Remus frowned, thumb rifling through the pages of his book while he looked at Sirius. “It’s only a name.”

“No, I meant — my name. It’s Sirius.” He proceeded to spell out his name, accompanied by the doubtful slope of Remus’s mouth as he did so.

“Oh,” Remus said. He shrugged, and turned to look out over the pool. It was more crowded than yesterday, but still lower than usual, with the pool not close to the usual filled capacity. “Okay.” His thumb worried at the corner of the book.

He followed Remus’s gaze to the flash of bright red poking out from underneath Lily’s swim cap. She was still swimming as steadily as ever, breathing like she was on land instead of half-submerged in water. She flipped turns with an agility that Sirius could only marvel at, twisting through the water like she was meant to be there.

“How do you know her?” Sirius asked curiously, and he felt Remus’s eyes on him as he watched Lily.

“Lily?” His voice was still quiet, even without the rain to mask the sound.

“Yeah.”

“We used to swim together,” Remus said with a shrug. The way he watched her had a hint of another emotion in it. Sirius couldn’t quite tell what it was — he didn’t know Remus well enough to understand his facial expression — but it almost looked like envy. Sirius wondered vaguely if they had some sort of history together. He didn’t bring it up.

“Cool,” Sirius said instead. Quietly, like Remus. “Used to?”

Remus shrugged, looking away with something akin to disappointment. “Until my foot got injured.” He gestured at the leg that was still propped up on the chair. Sirius couldn’t see anything wrong with it at first glance. Or at second glance.

“What happened to your foot?”

“It’s complicated,” Remus frowned. “But I can’t swim.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. He was good at telling when there was something more to a story. There usually was, with the complicated politics the Black Family got involved in, or with James’s tendency to keep things to himself no matter how often he was there for Sirius. But he could also sense when people didn’t want to talk something, when it was best left alone, and he could tell this was one of those times. “How’s your book going?”

Remus paused for a second, and then raised his eyebrows, glancing at the cover. “Do you really want to know?”

“Go for it,” Sirius laughed, and he leaned back while Remus launched into his story. There was something about watching him, the passion that jumped into his features at the mention of his book.

“Only half the dragons escaped,” he began, and all of a sudden he was off again, back into his secret worlds. When Remus finally trailed off sheepishly, Sirius realized after a second that he was still staring at Remus with a smile on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Remus asked, looking extremely self-conscious.

“Nothing,” Sirius said, still smiling. “You just get very excited about it.”

Remus blushed at that, a pink stain running over his skin, and he looked away, picking at the hem of his sweater sleeve.

“Yeah, well. I don’t know much about you, what do you like?”

Sirius shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable, because he didn’t have hobbies like Remus. He tagged along, he went with the world because he’d been born into it, and he didn’t have a passion for anything special.

“Nothing much,” Sirius shrugged, and he looked in the other direction. “I don’t know.”

Remus looked at him for a minute, pondering.

“Okay, then what do you like? One thing. It can be small.”

Sirius thought back to yesterday, to the coal in his stomach. “Rain,” he said, thinking of the cool speckles against his skin and the sounds and smell and… “I like rain.”

“There you go,” Remus said, giving him a small smile. “That’s not nothing.”

“Yeah, but it’s not…it’s not anything real.”

“Rain is real.”

“You know what I mean,” Sirius snapped. He felt oddly vulnerable, stripped down to his core, and Remus’s eyes were boring through him regardless. He hated it. He hated that he hated it. He wanted to leave.

“Well,” Remus said slowly. “You have plenty of time to figure it out, you know. You don’t have to know anything yet.”

Sirius shrugged. He wanted to get away from the conversation, because when he thought too hard about his role in the world, he felt hopeless and worthless all over again, like he was going to do absolutely nothing and it wouldn’t matter in the slightest. He wouldn’t matter in the slightest.

“I’ll leave you to your reading, then,” he said, standing up and turning around, momentarily forgetting where he was, what he was supposed to be doing.

He wasn’t sure if Remus was watching him walk away — he’d never been able to feel someone’s eyes on him, the way other people seemingly could. Perhaps he was less attuned to people than everyone else. He sighed, watching Lily turn another flip. James walked up behind him, bumping him in the hip and following his gaze.

“She’s good,” he murmured, eyes following her across the pool. She barely stopped for a breath. Still, still swimming as fluidly as before.

“Yeah,” Sirius said distractedly. “You mentioned.”

He left James to himself watching Lily, and he walked over to the check-in counter. He stewed in his thoughts, absentmindedly scanning badges, all the while lost somewhere within himself. Every so often he glanced up at Remus and the way he mouthed the words of the book while he scanned the pages.

But most of all he was caught up in the future, so much so that when Regulus walked through the entrance way, looking around him, Sirius absentmindedly asked for his membership without realizing who it was.

“Sirius?” Regulus asked, sounding concerned. He leaned against the counter, casting a look around him once more. “Sirius, it’s me.”

Sirius looked over at him in surprise, his eyes finally swimming back into focus from the blurry point he’d previously been fixated on.

“Reg? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see where you work,” Regulus shrugged. Even though Sirius was brothers with Regulus, Sirius had a difficult time understanding him. It wasn’t like Regulus had no moral compass, because he did. He understood right from wrong well enough — he had his own ideals, and he understood morality. But it was almost as though he wasn’t sure when the compass was applicable.

Or maybe Sirius was entirely off. Nothing about Regulus had ever made sense, even when they were small children. He would run around the house telling stories to the portraits, who spoke in whispered words that he was going mad.

Only, Sirius didn’t think that was true. Regulus wasn’t mad. He was different, but he wasn’t mad.

“Okay,” Sirius said slowly. “This is where I work.” He gestured slowly around him, across the pool and Remus’s tawny curls, across the scores of people who were there to swim. Across James, who was still casting side glances at the redheaded figure, cutting through the water like nothing else. Across Peter, nervously handing out snacks to young kids.

"I can see that," Regulus commented, looking around the area with his nose scrunched in distaste. "It's very..."

Sirius sighed as he trailed off, his words lost in the air. He could guess what Regulus had been about to say, in any case. Plebeian, perhaps. Commonplace. Undignified.

"Well, I'm making money," Sirius said bluntly, squaring his shoulders and doing his best not to be annoyed at the fact that his brother had barged in asking about his job only to insult it. This was a job, he reminded himself. This was his job, and he was making money.

He was being useful.

"You could have taken the job as Black Family —“

"I'm not working for Father," Sirius spat, and the words turned his mouth sour. "Why do you think I'm as far away from him as possible?"

Regulus stared at him cooly. "You're smart," he said simply. "You could do something good with your life, but instead you're working at a pool for minimum wage."

"Why did you come here?" Sirius asked. Regulus was one of the only people who could talk to him, whose words would stick. Mother's, Father's... their words used to hurt, but they didn't stick.

Regulus's always did. Regulus was too much strange to ignore.

"Is everything okay?" Peter stepped in between them, looking from Regulus to all the tense lines and planes of Sirius's face.

"Everything's fine," Sirius said, directing the cold in his voice towards Regulus, staring at him and refusing to look away.

"Right," Peter said, obviously sensing the lie and not willing to let it go. "Sirius, James needs your help with some food problem. He told me I wasn't smart enough to help him, so if you'll deal with that I can take over checking people in to the pool."

"Okay," Sirius said quietly, knowing it was a lie. He walked over to James and leaned against the food counter, letting out a sigh that felt like it had been trapped in his chest for far too long.

“Ignore him,” James said when Sirius looked over at him. He was busy making food of some kind or another, and he wasn’t looking at Sirius, but it was obvious that was who it was directed at. “Don’t let him get to you, Sirius. What he says doesn’t mean anything.”

Sirius sighed again..

“I know,” he said, frowning. He did know, but he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t help any of it. Regulus had a voice that could cut through anything. “In theory.”

James looked at him thoughtfully and then just nodded. Sirius leaned back against the counter and closed his eyes, letting the equal mugginess of the day flood over him. It felt good for his eyes to be closed, because he could only see the sunlight in bursts of red splotches. The world was still there, but really it wasn’t. Not for him. It was only spots of color instead of actual shapes that made up figures.

When he opened his eyes again, all his weight still against the countertop, he found Remus staring at him. Remus tipped his head to the side as if to ask a question, but Sirius wasn’t entirely sure what the question was supposed to be. And even if he had, the answer was a whole different story.

So he just gave Remus a small smile of acknowledgement before turning back to James. He tried not to think about if Remus had heard them talking about Regulus, because that left him feeling raw.

“You want help?” he asked, suddenly in need of distraction. His hands were itching and he needed to do something — it didn’t particularly matter what, but he had to do something.

“Yeah, sure,” James said with a yawn. “You can bring this food to them.” He handed a plate of food to Sirius and pointed vaguely towards a family sitting by the edge of the pool.

Sirius did exactly that, trying not to pay much attention as Regulus walked out towards the pool exit.

That night, neither Sirius nor Regulus mentioned what had happened.

* * *

The next day was miserably hot again, the sun seemingly closer to earth than it had been on any of the previous days, with not even a trace of cloud to block it out. Sirius had his hair tied up in a bun, but even so there was already sweat trickling down the back of his neck, sticky and hot.

And sure enough, Remus was still wearing his bloody jumper. It reawakened all Sirius’s curiosities and questions from before, and he really couldn’t help himself. He sat down beside Remus in the chair. Predictably enough, he had a book open — he didn’t look up when Sirius sat down, but his face twitched into a tiny smile nonetheless.

“I have a new theory,” Sirius told him matter-of-factly, entranced by the way the jumper swallowed him whole. “You’re cold blooded.”

Remus kept his eyes trained on the page for a second longer, seeming to collect himself, before he carefully slid a bookmark into the book and set it down on the table beside him.

“What?”

“You’re cold blooded,” Sirius repeated, nodding towards the pale blue knitting. It looked soft, especially against the soft brown of Remus’s curls. There was something about Remus that matched his surroundings — his eyes were glowing again, soft against the sun. “This is the second time I’ve seen you here when it’s over a hundred, and you’re still wearing that jumper.”

Remus flicked at the corner of the book pages. “Yeah, well, this is the second time I’ve seen you here when it’s over a hundred, and you’re still talking to me instead of doing your job.”

Sirius opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Touché,” he said finally, leaning over to look at the cover of Remus’s book. He let the jumper question slip away, because it was obviously something Remus wasn’t inclined to discuss. “Is that a new book?”

Remus sighed and turned the cover to face Sirius.

“Yeah,” he said, “And it’s actually rather boring.”

“Why don’t you go swimming?”

Remus’s face went blank and his whole body shuttered up again, the blinds shutting out the sun on a bright day, completely shielding him.

“I told you I hurt my foot.”

“Right,” Sirius said quietly. “That’s — right. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“I guess so.”

The day passed in a haze of heat.

* * *

Another night gone was another day Sirius woke up with sun streaming through the window, even though his curtains were resolutely closed against the light. It woke him at an ungodly hour, already streaming through with a determination that heated up the entire room with a glow.

Their house was well air-conditioned, a product of being rich and prestigious, and Sirius had mixed feelings about the chill. It was nice, of course, but it wasn't right. He didn’t want this.

So he left, like he did every other day. He walked to the pool.

Today was a big day at the pool, because it was the beginning of the summer swim season, when teams started meeting at hours that shouldn't even exist, when lanes got closed off and reserved, when the whole atmosphere got a lot more serious.

When Sirius got to the pool, Lily and Remus were already there. Lily was pulling on a swim cap, tight around her hair, the rubber creased in odd places.

"I wish you could swim," Lily said sadly, looking down at Remus's foot, even though it still wasn't easily visible what was wrong. "It's going to be weird without you, you know. You've always been there."

"I'll be back soon enough," Remus said quietly, but his smile looked strained. "Just wait.“

Lily was on a swim team — it made sense, of course, considering her level of skill that Sirius had observed over the last week. Remus, on the other hand. Sirius had never seen Remus swim, and he wondered what he looked like swimming as he limped over to a chair.

He quickly stopped wondering, because it filled his mind with images of Remus, his curls plastered around his head —

No.

Sirius went over to greet Remus, because they did that with people that visited the pool regularly. It was polite. Customer service, that was the official term, although really Sirius just used it when he got tired of standing around and had to do something before he ruptured.

Besides, he liked being useful to people. He went to sit beside Remus, who was still, still, wearing a jumper. It was knit and thick, too big, and Remus looked frankly miserable under all the layers of wool.

"You're either a masochist or a sadist," Sirius mused, watching a drop of sweat that clung to the back of Remus's neck.

Remus looked over him. It was good luck, Sirius thought, that he hadn't gotten his book out yet. If he had, he probably would have ignored Sirius in favor of reading. Not that Sirius would've blamed him, really.

"What?"

"That bloody jumper," Sirius sighed. "It's so hot out I'm almost melting out of my skin, and you're still wearing that thing. Either you like to suffer, or you like to watch me suffer by proxy." Remus rolled his eyes and tugged self-conciously at the jumper.

"I just like jumpers," he mumbled, a small frown line creasing the expanse of skin over his eyebrows. "Can you please drop it?"

Sirius sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to interrogate you or anything, I just hate to see you like this when it's so hot outside."

"I'm fine," Remus insisted. "Okay? Nothing to worry about. Leave it.”

"Okay," Sirius said, hearing the dubious quality in his voice from afar. "Whatever you say." He turned back to watch the pool, where Lily was standing beside a pair of girls who were laughing at something she'd said. They were obviously on the same team — their swim caps, which read Gryffindor in red and gold, clearly showed that.

He watched as they jumped into the water without hesitation. Sirius had never been able to do that. Not that he could swim, but every time he got in the water it took him far too long to get acclimated.

"Were you on that team before you got hurt?" Sirius asked, hoping all the questions weren't too much prying. He felt slightly guilty, but his curiosity won out.

"Yes," Remus said hesitantly. "I was, why?"

"Curious. I'm just curious."

"I used to be a swimmer," Remus told him. "After my foot heals, I might go back to it, but for now..." he trailed off.

"I see," Sirius nodded. "I'll leave you in peace now, you probably have plenty of reading to do."

Remus gave him a faint smile as he stood up, and when Sirius walked away, a tall strict-looking woman with a tight bun bumped into him. Remus lowered his head quickly, pulling out a book and hiding behind it like he didn't want to be seen by the woman.

Sirius watched curiously as she walked over to Lily and the group of swimmers, who were standing in a tight circle.

"Listen up!" she said, voice crisp. She didn't have to speak loudly to command attention - that much Sirius could already tell. "In the pool, eight warm up laps. You know the drill."

They all jumped in the pool without hesitation, further reinforcing Sirius's suspicion that she wasn't a woman to be trifled with.

He walked over to where James was watching them behind the snack bar.

"Swim team season," Sirius commented, because James's eyes were following the same line as his own. "Best time of the year."

"You see the redhead?" James asked idly, his eyes watching as Lily warmed up. She looked like she was easily one of the fastest, and somehow it looked like she was barely having to fight against the water at all, because she overpowered it easily with every stroke, using it to her advantage. She seemed a natural — as though she was born in the water. A mermaid from one of Remus’s books.

"Lily? You keep mentioning her.“

"Is that her name?" James asked, eyes not leaving her for a second. "I'm going to ask her out."

"Way to be blunt," Sirius muttered, and turned to lean against the counter and look back at James. "Wait, you weren’t joking?"

"No!" James insisted. "She's perfect! Do you see her swimming?"

"James!“ Sirius looked over at him in exasperation, glad for a distraction, “You didn’t even know her name until a second ago! Have you actually had a conversation with her like normal people do before they ask someone out?”

"Sirius. Look at her."

Sirius rolled his eyes and followed James's gaze.

“Yeah?”

"You can't tell me you wouldn't want to date her."

"I wouldn't want to date her," Sirius mumbled under his breath. He pushed of the counter and made his way around James, trying not to look back over at Remus.

"Yeah, well, you don't want to date anybody so that doesn't count."

"Okay," Sirius rolled his eyes. "It doesn't count. Now stop mooning over somebody who's busy trying to swim, and go do your job.”

"Yeah, yeah," James groaned. "Fine. But you're on desk duty then."

"Fine," Sirius shot back. As he was walking past where Remus was sat, he glanced over. The woman from before — hair wound into a tight bun — was approaching him.

"Mr. Lupin?" she asked crisply, and Remus reluctantly brought the book down from where it had been covering his face.

"Yes, Coach McGonagall."

"Why aren't you over there in the pool?"

"I hurt my foot," Remus mumbled, glancing down at the foot propped up on his chair. "I can't swim with it like that."

McGonagall frowned down at him. "What did you do to your foot?" Remus looked uncomfortable, and Sirius realized suddenly that he really shouldn't be eavesdropping. But he couldn't bring himself to move away.

"I tripped," he said. "Sprained it. It's nothing big, but the doctor said I can't swim."

"Do you have a brace?" she frowned, looking down at his foot, and Remus shook his head sheepishly. "How long will it be before you're well enough?"

"At the very least, a couple weeks," Remus said quietly, scratching his face and flicking through the page corners with his thumb. "I might have to sit this season out." Sirius moved over to the counter, suddenly uncomfortable with listening to their conversation when he reflected on how he'd felt when he saw Remus staring at him while they discussed Regulus. This was private.

He scanned into the register, trying to ignore while Remus and McGonagall continued to discuss something with each other. His mind was spinning.

Remus had tripped? Why had he been so uncomfortable when Sirius asked him that? Why wasn't he wearing a brace, why was he always wearing a sweater? What was the something more that Sirius had sensed when he talked to Remus? What was Remus Lupin hiding?

When Lily was on her thirtieth lap of the pool, and when Sirius thought he couldn't stand to check in any more people, a surprising relief provided itself. It was Remus, leaning against the counter and looking sheepishly over at him.

"Can I help you?" Sirius asked amusedly, surprised that Remus would be the one to seek him out.

"I just wanted some shade," Remus said in a murmur so low that Sirius almost couldn't hear it.

"What?"

"It's too hot outside," he said again, and Sirius tried to keep to much of his smugness from showing through, even though it was rather difficult.

"Too hot, you say? Could it have something to do with the jumper you're wearing?" Remus glared at him, and Sirius held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I'll stop talking about it. But -" he broke off, but apparently was unable to help himself "- Just answer me one question, okay? Just one."

Remus sighed, book hanging limply at his side. "Depends on the question," he said eventually.

"Why do you come here with Lily if you're not even going to swim?"

"I -" Remus shrugged. "I don't know. To support her, I guess."

"Oh." To support her. Perhaps they were dating. Sirius almost wanted to ask, but figured he'd already used up his question, so he just nodded. "Okay. What's that book about?" He couldn't help himself. He loved listening to Remus ramble on about his book, even though he never understood what was happening. He could listen to it for ages, really.

Remus narrowed his eyes suspiciously, as though he thought Sirius was up to something, but he started talking anyways, filling Sirius’s world with others far beyond.

When James packed up for the day, Sirius yawned and sidled up to him, rubbing at his eyes and cringing when they stung from exhaustion.

"I think Lily might be with that guy that sits on the side of the pool all the time," he said with another yawn, eyes closing involuntarily.

"What?"

"You know that guy that —“

"Yeah, yeah, I know who you're talking about, but why do you think that? Did she tell you? Did he tell you?"

"Calm down," Sirius said quickly, "I don't know, I'm just guessing. He says he only comes to the pool because he wants to support her, and it seems like a couple-y thing to do, doesn't it? I dunno, I might be making things up.”

“They’re friends, no need to assume,” James muttered.

"Yeah," Sirius said. He paused for a moment. "I think Remus is hiding something."

"Remus?"

"The boy."

"Oh. What do you think he's hiding?"

"I dunno," Sirius said again, and the frustration he felt deep down punctuated every syllable. "I can't tell. It's something, I can feel it, I'm just not sure what." James sighed and slung his bag over one shoulder.

"Whatever you say, Sirius. Although you're probably imagining it, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, it's just that he's always wearing that jumper."

"Plenty of people wear long sleeves to the pool," James said reasonably. "He's not alone."

"But it's the middle of summer!" Sirius protested. "He's not even swimming! I don't know, but I think there's something going on."

"And let me guess," James said sarcastically. "You're determined to figure out what it is."

Sirius held out his arms, imagining that it was raining, feeling the condensation around him and the humidity that clung to the air.

"Yeah," he said. "I am."

Chapter Text

Remus kept showing up to the pool, day after day without stop. Sirius would strike up small conversations with him in the rare gaps when he set down his book, leaning back in the chair an aimlessly chattering on.

He liked Remus. He wasn't sure what it was, but Remus gave off an aura of comfort, radiating towards Sirius no matter what time, no matter the day or the weather.

But despite all of this, he was still somehow unable to figure out what it was about Remus that was off.

He was certain now that Remus was hiding something behind his jumper, just out of sight and layered with thick knots of wool. It was in the way he watched Lily with envy, in the strange absence of any sign that his foot was hurt, in the way he continued to draw his jumper tight around him no matter how fiercely the sun was beating down from above.

But things were different now, somehow. He was no longer a mere mystery to figure out. He was a person that happened to come with a mystery, somebody that Sirius wanted to be around even if he never understood.

Even so, Sirius couldn’t help being curious.

"I don't understand," Sirius told him one day. They were sitting by the side of the pool again, watching as the swim team practiced. He'd been staying away from the topic recently, because it was obviously something Remus didn't want to talk about, but at the moment he couldn't quite restrain himself. "I really don't understand. If you hadn't been on the swim team, I'd say you're afraid of the water."

Remus frowned down at the book in his lap. It was closed, only the cover showing, but he seemed to turn to his book whenever he was uncertain what to say.

"What?"

"It's just that you're at the pool almost every day with Lily, and I haven't seen you so much as touch the water. You just sit here, looking hotter -" Sirius broke off, because that wasn't what he meant to say. The words had come out wrong. He stumbled over himself in an effort to correct his blunder, cheeks blazing. "I mean - I didn't - you sit here in your jumper while we all watch you sweat to death, and you refuse to even put a foot in the water."

Remus still frowned down at the cover of his book, refusing to look up.

"And I don't understand it at all."

"Well you're here every day too, and I never see you swimming either. I hardly think you're one to talk."

"My job isn't to swim."

“Mine isn’t either,” Remus shrugged. He wouldn't meet Sirius's eyes, and Sirius presumed it was on purpose. A careful avoidance.

"Is there a reason? Am I making this up, or are you - I don't know." Sirius broke off with frustration, staring out over the water.

"It's really not your business," Remus said. He opened the book, flicking to a random page and starting to read, eyes running over the pages as he did so. "And it's really not your place to interrogate me about it either. I'd appreciate if you'd back off. I’ve asked you enough times to stop.” He spoke while his eyes were moving, like he was somehow reading and speaking at the same time. It was disconcerting, the strange duality of Remus.

"I'm..." Sirius trailed off and stared at the concrete. There were puddles of water, swamped from the pool, collecting in the rivets between the pebbles of the concrete. He focused on them, on the splashing kids that supplemented the tiny pools. He tried not to think too hard. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's okay," Remus said. He was still frowning, and Sirius hated that look on his face. His eyes had stopped moving across the pages too, like the frown took up more energy than speaking. They were fixed on one point, one word, refusing to flit over the sentences like they were supposed to do.

Suddenly Sirius felt like a waste of space all over again, and he couldn't take it. He stood up, walked over to James at the snack bar, and waved James away.

"Go do something else, okay? I'll take care of this."

James opened his mouth in protest, no doubt about to say something about the number of customers, about how Sirius wouldn't be able to handle it on his own , but then Sirius glared at him and he unwillingly acquiesced.

Sirius needed to feel useful now. He needed to feel like he was worth something instead of being a waste of space.

He needed to be more than just a bother.

So he focused his energy on dishing out snacks as fast as he could, collecting money with a zeal that only ran skin-deep. He smiled at customers and tried not to make it look to forced. He made small talk and wished it wasn't small, wished it didn't feel like background chatter that had no meaning.

No worth.

He hated these moods, because they struck suddenly and would drag him down unless he could shake them off quickly, which was no easy feat. He hated feeling like there was nothing inside of him the world needed, like he was making lives harder instead of easier. He hated sitting on the side of the pool and watching people splash about, wishing he could do something like them, that he could be good at something like they were.

The hours flew by. The time ticked on. Sirius worked, he worked, he worked.

He cast glances at Remus every so often while he worked, watching as he mouthed the words to the book, seeming as intensely concentrated on the book as Sirius was on making sure everything was done as efficiently as possible.

He flipped pages faster than Sirius had ever been able to. Sirius didn't have the patience to read books like that. He only had patience when he was doing something he wanted to, when he had an idea, and books took too long for him to get invested in.

But Remus, Remus seemed like he was in his own world entirely. He stared down at the pages like they held the answer to something, and Sirius wished he had that many answers. He wished he understood the world in the way Remus seemed to while he was reading, like everything had fallen into place and nothing outside the pages held any weight at all. Sirius liked watching Remus read.

Sirius liked a lot of things about Remus. He had an indescribable feeling to him that Sirius hadn’t met in anybody else, something that made him feel understood, even when he was talking about something that wasn’t remotely difficult to understand.

He didn't think he would be willing to sit and listen to James rambling on about something he liked for hours, but with Remus, listening to him talk was something Sirius could do for hours.

He didn't randomly interrupt Peter just to talk with him, but with Remus it felt different. Remus was different.

"Hey," Sirius said, when even working could no longer fill the pit in his stomach. He wanted to put the coal back where in belonged, to fill his stomach with the warmth from before that seemed to come from the sun itself. "I'm sorry if I overstepped before, I didn't — I shouldn’t have pushed. You don't give a lot of answers, and I was just wondering, but I'll stop asking you about it. Okay?"

Remus didn't look up from his book. It was something that would have annoyed Sirius with anybody else. He would have demanded that they look at him while he was talking — that was common courtesy, after all — but Remus didn't seem to mean it in a way that was rude. It almost felt like he was using his books to ground him, and that was something Sirius had no desire to take away from him. If Remus found peace in reading, Sirius would respect that.

"It's fine," Remus said after a second. "You don't have to apologize."

"Yeah, I do," Sirius said, and he felt miserable. It felt like there was a storm inside his stomach, lightning, thunder, rain flooding him and trying to drown him from inside where nobody else could see. "I really do."

"It's okay," Remus reiterated, still looking down at the book.

"I'll stop talking to you if you want," Sirius said in a moment of desperation. "I know I'm probably just annoying you, and I'm always pushing, and I'm sorry."

Remus looked up at him, confused. "You aren't annoying me."

"I'm not? It seems like it.“

Remus looked almost surprised now. "No, of course not. If you were annoying me, you would know."

And somehow that felt like the most honest thing Sirius had heard in a long time.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Remus said, smiling faintly. "You're weird, you know that? You ask me about things that I like and listen to me ramble about my books, and then you think you're annoying me. If anything, it would be the other way around.“

Sirius felt the glow back in place, and his whole world shifted. His view shifted, the feeling shifted, and things clicked beautifully into place.

He was lucky, because sometimes that wouldn't happen. Sometimes he'd be left wondering what had caused the strange confusion inside his chest. Sometimes he'd sit for hours and stare at the wall, he'd wonder what on earth had gotten into him and he'd wonder if there would ever be a way to fix it.

He'd wonder how long it would take before he was back to his normal, because he'd have no idea. Hours? Days? Weeks? He didn't know how to stop the hole when he didn't understand how it had gotten there in the first place.

And then his world would go sour. Everything he looked at, everything he walked past — all of it would be tainted by that pit carved into his very person, and he wouldn't be able to just fill it in. Sometimes he was worried it would never go away.

But Remus seemed to be able to fill it more easily than most people. He replaced it with a brighter coal without even knowing it. He liked talking to Sirius, he'd said that, hadn't he? Maybe Sirius wasn't as worthless as he'd thought. Maybe he had worth to some people. Heaven knows James had tried to drill that into his head enough times.

When the day grew old, and the swim team had finally finished their last sprint, Sirius watched as Lily and Remus greeted each other again, Lily throwing her head back to laugh at something. Without warning, Remus walked over to him with Lily in tow, red hair flashing brilliantly behind her.

"Hey, you two haven't really met," Remus said by way of explanation. "I figured we could fix that. So, Sirius, this is Lily. Lily, Sirius."

"Nice to meet you," Lily said with a smirk. "Remus has told me all about you."

"He has?" Sirius asked, shocked, and he turned to see Remus glaring at Lily.

"She's making stuff up," he muttered under his breath. "Don't listen to her please."

"Well, I'll probably be seeing you around!" Lily said to him, reaching out to shake his hand. Her fingers were pruned from the water, wrinkly and still wet from the pool, but she smiled at him nicely when she shook his hand. "I'm here most days.”

"I know, you're a really good swimmer," Sirius said, nodding at the pool unnecessarily.

"Thanks," Lily grinned, nudging Remus. "You have more of a heart than this wanker does. Maybe I should replace him." Remus rolled his eyes and elbowed Lily back, thumbing at the cover of his book. "Anyways, have a nice day."

"You too," Sirius said with a smile, watching as they turned to go, unable to drag his eyes away from the Remus as he walked away.

"Introduce me," said a voice from behind him, sounding awestruck. "I swear, if you don't introduce me to her I'm going to kill you." Sirius turned around to find James standing there gaping after Lily, and he was dismayed to realize that he'd been staring at Remus just as much.

* * *

Sirius was lying on James's bed, head hanging over the edge while James searched for good music, sporadic clips flitting on and off as he tried to find something in vain.

"What are you doing?" Sirius groaned, itching at a bug bite on his arm and trying to keep back a yawn, because he hated being tired during the day and yawning reinforced that too much.

"Shut up a second," James muttered, finally finding something that was apparently suitable, turned up on just that side of loud. "Listen, I think we should invite Lily and Remus to do something."

Sirius froze. The day was medium-warm, the kind of day he liked because walking outside felt the same as lying inside, a strange equilibrium that seemed like a fragile secret. He liked it because birds would occasionally fly past James's window when there wasn't a poster or bookcase blocking it — James could never make up his mind about the room. But now, even butterflies and sunlight couldn't drag his mind away from what James had just said.

"What?"

"I think we should hang out with Lily and her friend, you heard me."

"That's ridiculous," Sirius said matter-of-factly. "We barely know them."

"Well this'll help us get to know them better," James snorted, like Sirius was the one being ridiculous. Sirius shifted on the bed, rolling over and taking the sheet with him, peeling it away from where it clung to the bed.

James swatted at him, but he rolled further away — he knew James wouldn't mind, not with the random sprawling mess that already coated his floor.

"You just want to talk to that Lily girl," Sirius said with a defeated sigh. If there was one thing he knew about James, it was that they had an eerily similar tendency towards stubbornness. When James got an idea in his head, it was there to stay, and he either had to carry it out or go cliff-diving if he wanted to forget about it.

"Yeah, I do, so?" James asked. Unabashed, like always, entirely unashamed.

Sirius sighed. The problem was that it was as tantalizing as James was making it out to be. The prospect of getting to know Remus and Lily better was hanging there in front of him, and he wasn't certain exactly why he was so hesitant to reach out and grab it when it was so close.

James apparently did know.

"They aren't going to suddenly hate you, you know," he said more quietly. "You talk to that boy at the pool all the time, hanging out with him other places isn't going to make him decide he hates you."

"I didn't -" Sirius broke himself off halfway through, shutting off the words and trying to do the same to his mind, although that wasn't nearly as effective. His mind ran free, unheeded, unrestricted, and it wouldn't be tampered with.

The problem was that James always had a strange twist of insight that he could insert into every conversation. Something he knew about Sirius that made Sirius wonder if he was being psychoanalyzed.

"I never said..."

"I know you didn't," James frowned at him, "But you thought it. I could hear you."

Sirius sighed. He tried not to think about how well he knew James, but it was better than the back of his hand, better than any of his own features. James was more than a brother, more than a friend even, but he was one of the only people Sirius had and they both knew it. There was Peter of course, but Peter tended to linger on the edge. He was their friend, but Sirius wasn't sure if he liked them or idolized them. More of an acquaintanceship than anything genuine.

And he was bad at making other friends. He knew that as well as anyone. People made him feel worthless. Waiting for verdicts about himself born in other people's brains made him anxious. Being rejected or ignored wore him down bit by bit, sandpaper tearing away at him ruthlessly.

And Remus, Remus was his half-friend. They talked at the pool, of course, but not outside. At the pool they couldn't break the veil. It gave Remus a chance to back out of their friendship if he wanted, because they weren’t connected any further. He wouldn’t have to feel obligated.

Inviting them somewhere else opened up a window for rejection that Sirius's brain couldn't handle, having been opened up and sanded down and sewn shut one too many times.

"Sirius, please?"

Sirius looked over at James, thought about all the things James had done for him over the years, all the time he'd spent trying to convince Sirius not to listen to the voice that consumed his life. He looked at the hope on James's face, and he knew he was being selfish.

"Okay," he said finally, a sigh overtaking him. "Fine. Yeah. We can do that."

James grinned. He didn't cheer or celebrate or hug Sirius, because he had this otherly knowledge of how Sirius ticked, and he knew that celebrating would make Sirius feel as though he'd been an obstacle to overcome, a person to shove out of the way.

He knew Sirius would feel worthless. He knew Sirius would spiral into the depths of his own brain.

"What are you thinking of doing, then?" Sirius asked with a tiny smile. He tried to sink back into the bed, to let the mattress conform to his back like it had done so many times. He wanted to imprint himself on this place so he'd forever be a part of the landscape. He wanted to be everlasting here, wanted the place to know him as well as it did James.

"Oh, I'm not sure," James shrugged. "We could just hang out at my place."

"How about we go to my place?" Sirius asked sarcastically, because jokes about his family seemed to roll off his tongue as easily as any other word. They made everything sting less — if he could laugh at his family, they weren't worth enough. They were a joke, that's all they were, and there was nothing about that that could make them seem serious.

James laughed, he laughed and the coal grew, he rolled on the floor and clutched at his stomach.

It made things easier to deal with for everyone, it seemed.

"Okay, how about we just go to the park?" James asked between gusts of laughter. "It's close to the pool anyways, and we can walk there after Lily's swim practice if they want to come with us."

"Yeah, I guess," Sirius shrugged. "If they say yes."

"Oh, they will," James grinned at him. "Who could say no to this?" he gestured at himself, puffing out his chest in an absurd gesture that was evidently supposed to make him look handsome.

Sirius felt lighter.

James made him feel like he was floating, almost in the same way that Remus was starting to do.

* * *

When they got to the pool next day, Sirius was a ball of nerves. He hated to admit that, so he tried to project himself onto the confident front that he always had available in his back pocket. He sauntered around the pool, greeting people left and right, taking orders and making sure everything was in check.

He tried to breathe normally, tried not to fan the coal in his stomach or make it disappear. The clouds were on the verge of breaking again — it was evident in the air and in the smattering of grey written across them.

They looked like promise, and Sirius tried to focus on that. On the cool residue of water in the air around him, on the cool water of the pool. He imagined it was raining, great drops splashing across his face. He watched as Remus and Lily walked into the pool area.

"Hey," he said, the second Remus got within earshot. He had to get it over with or he'd chicken out, which was something he'd stew on, which would wreak havoc inside of him and make him feel like a disappointment. To James, to himself, to everyone in his life. "My friend was wondering if you two would want to walk to the park with us after your swim practice? Just for fun." He shrugged along with it, like it wasn't a big deal that had been weighing in his stomach.

"Yeah, sure," Lily said immediately. She seemed to realize after a second that she wasn't the only one there, and she turned to Remus quickly, a question in her eyes.

The stress that had vanished at Lily's first word hit him again full force as he waited for the denial, for Remus to say he had other plans or that he was too tired.

But Remus smiled, that tiny one that showed more in the overall set of his face than in his mouth. He smiled and nodded at Lily, then turned to look at Sirius, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"We'd love to," he said quietly. He had his book hitched up under the arm of his jumper - soft wool still, a light pink this time that once again set the stage for his eyes. It seemed like everything did that, took a backseat to the glow that permeated every glance he gave to anyone.

"Really?" Sirius asked, because he couldn't help but reaffirm. "You want to?"

"It's our pleasure," Lily laughed, and she waved Remus through. "Now come on, McGonogall's going to assign me extra laps if I'm late, and I really don't feel like that today.”

Sirius let them walk past, shooting a thumbs up to James, who grinned in him with that smile that lit Sirius up from the inside and made him feel like he must have done something right if he was worthy of that smile.

He watched Remus take a seat in that same chair he always sat in. He watched him open the book — he knew even from a distance that it was a new one from the look on Remus's face, like this was a new adventure instead of one he was in the midst of. There was almost a fragile scent to his look, like he wanted to save the mystery of what could be inside, instead of the hasty way he opened something he'd already entrenched himself in.

Sirius watched him and smiled, just as the sky opened up and it began to rain.

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle by the time Lily's practice finished, just barely peppering the water, creating ripples all over the surface that spread and halted as they were wiped out by other ripples. Sirius hung by the entrance with James, slightly terrified, but satisfied nonetheless.

"Okay, stay calm," James said, tapping his fingers together and checking his watch every few seconds, even though the time had nothing to do with anything.

"Calm?" Sirius asked, looking over at him. "You're one to talk. You barely even know Lily, why are you so nervous? For all you know, she could be a total idiot." James glared at him and Sirius shrugged, thinking that it was entirely possible but not very likely. If Lily was friends with Remus, then she was probably a good person.

Lily and Remus walked over to them side by side, laughing at something while Lily took of her swim cap, grimacing when it stuck to her hair and tugged at the back of her scalp. She rubbed it with a hand, coming to a stop in front of Sirius and James.

"I don't think we've met?"

James hurried to shake her hand, and he smiled at her.

"No, I don't think so. I'm James, and this is Sirius," he said, gesturing over at Sirius.

"Yes," Lily said with an amused smile, "I've met him."

"And you're Remus, I assume?" James asked, looking over at Lily's companion. He held out his hand again, and Remus took it hesitantly, like James’s hands was made out of spikes. He shook it hand carefully and then took a quick step backwards.

"Yeah," he said quickly, glancing towards Sirius for reassurance. "I'm Remus. Nice to meet you."

"You too," James grinned, looking back towards Lily. "Want to go, then?"

"Sure," Lily said, and they walked out the front of the pool. The rain was still whisper-light, tiny sprinkles that created pinpricks of dark against the concrete, tiny dots that breathed life into Sirius.

Remus seemed to notice, and he looked over at Sirius with a faint smile.

"You really do like the rain," he said quietly, and Sirius laughed.

"Yeah," he said. "I love it."

Their silence quickly turned from awkward to comfortable as they walked through the rain towards the park, James casually making conversation with Lily, who continued to look mildly amused. Every so often Remus would add in some remark or another, but for the most part he stayed quiet.

"So," Sirius said curiously, "is reading the only thing you do?"

Remus laughed and hiked the book up further under his arm, trying to keep it safe from the rain.

"Kind of," he said finally. There was a very long pause, where nobody said a word. And then, after ten more drops of rain landed on Sirius's hand - he was counting - Remus spoke up again. "Actually, I write sometimes," he said with a frown, shooting a quick glance over at Lily. "But I haven't really told anybody that. So."

Sirius looked over at him in surprise.

"What do you write?"

Remus shrugged and looked away again, a flush high in his face that turned his eyes an almost pinkish color, and Sirius couldn't bring himself to look away.

"You don't have to tell me," Sirius said quickly. "Would you ever let me read anything?"

"No," Remus said quickly. "Absolutely not. Nothing against you, but no."

"Okay," Sirius laughed. "That's okay." He did his best not to take offense.

Remus looked over at where Lily and James were talking. They had reached the park now. The entire place was covered with a glistening sheen, and Sirius breathed it in, the water against the metal and the rain against the sky. He smiled because the coal in his stomach had become a balloon, expanding inside him and threatening to burst out

Remus, rain, the park. The park, Remus, rain. Rain, the park, Remus.

"Do you come here often?" Remus asked, looking over the park. They sat down on the bench, the four of them, side by side. Sirius was intensely grateful that it wasn't just him, because this way he could be quiet if he felt like he was being too much, and this way he could let other people steer the conversation and the way things went.

"Sometimes," James shrugged. "We both live nearby, anyways."

"Oh, really?" Lily asked curiously, "Where?"

"I live on Grimmauld street," Sirius said sourly. He refused to elaborate, because that was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn't want to think about his family, let alone talk about them. Instead he was entirely content to sit and stare at the rain and let them talk about whatever they wanted to.

James and Lily took over most of the conversation, discussing swimming and competition and a host of other things Sirius didn't much care for.

Remus thumbed the edge of his book, something Sirius had noticed he tended to do a lot.

"Do you want to read?" he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb Lily and James. "You always do that thing with your fingers.”

Remus glanced at him in surprise and then down at his book, studying the cover.

"I always want to read," he admitted with a laugh. "But no, that's just habit I guess. You aren't boring me or anything, if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't understand you," Sirius blurted out suddenly, staring at Remus closely. "Usually I'm pretty good at reading people, but you confuse me. I have no idea what - I don't know. You're strange."

Remus laughed at that, and it was soft, although that might have been an illusion of the rain washed world. "Was that a compliment?" he asked, swiping a drop of rain off the bench.

"No, I just - I don't know. Sometimes it seems like you don't have emotions."

"Maybe I don't," Remus said evenly, smiling at him, and Sirius rolled his eyes, laughing and looking the other way.

"Well, whatever," he said finally. "I could never read, by the way," he said, pointing at the book. "Couldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"I can't focus that much," Sirius said, shaking his head. "Reading doesn't get you anywhere, so I can't concentrate on it, you know what I'm saying?"

"No," Remus said quite honestly, still smiling softly. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

Sirius laughed. "Well, at least you're honest. I don't have the patience for it, I guess."

"Maybe you haven't read the right things," Remus suggested.

"Maybe," Sirius began, unable to help the curling grin that matched the coal unfurling in his stomach, "If you let me read some of your writing..."

"Nice try," Remus said rolling his eyes. He looked over at where James and Lily had meandered off to inspect the slide - they'd been arguing about the most effective angle to maximize the speed of the slide. "They seem to be getting along well."

"Yeah," Sirius snorted, “James fancies her, you know.“

"Hmm?" Remus asked, looking over at him in surprise, and Sirius backtracked quickly.

"No - I didn't... Oh, shit. Are you two together? I wasn't trying to say that he... Just forget I ever spoke.”

Remus was smiling at him, tiny droplets of water clinging to the curve of his curls, and sliding as he shook his head.

"I'm not with Lily," he laughed, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry."

"Okay," Sirius said, letting out a sigh of relief. "Good."

Silence fell between them again, and Sirius closed his eyes to look up into the rain where it fell against his face, cool, a far cry from the blistering heat that sometimes overtook the pool, a blissful opposition to the coal warming his insides.

"Why do you like the rain so much?" Remus asked curiously, and Sirius opened his eyes to find Remus watching him - something that made his stomach flip in a way he most certainly didn't want to inspect.

"Hmm?"

"The rain."

"Oh, I'm not really sure," Sirius shrugged, too entranced with the way it fell around him. "There's no deep reason or anything like that. I just love it."

Remus nodded thoughtfully, kicking at a small puddle of water in front of him.

"I hate the rain," he admitted, smiling faintly down at the ground in that way of his that was all too enticing. He chanced a glance at Sirius.

"What?" Sirius asked. "Why would you hate the rain? It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It ruins books," Remus laughed, and toed at the water again. "It makes everything more difficult. Water is such a pain, I don’t understand why anybody would like it.”

"So you spend every day at the swimming pool," Sirius nodded. "That makes complete sense."

"Yeah well, I'm not in the water," Remus said. And then he tensed slightly, seeming to shut down just a little bit, but Sirius had the good grace to brush over it.

"What on earth are they doing?" he asked, staring over at James and Lily with one eyebrow raised. James was lying on the ground underneath the slide and holding one arm up in an equal angle to the slide, gesturing emphatically towards it, and Lily was shaking her head equally vigorously.

"I wouldn't ask," Remus laughed. "When it comes to Lily, I really never have any idea."

"Well," Sirius muttered under his breath, "Seems like they'd be good for each other, then." He glanced over at Remus. “You two are close, then?”

"Yeah, she's my best friend," Remus said quietly. He looked over at Sirius. "I don't tend to tolerate many people. I'm very... picky, I guess. She happened to make the cut. She’s one of the few”

"Did I make the cut?” Sirius asked with a tiny smile.

"Oh, don't look all full of yourself," Remus said, shaking his head. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah," Sirius said with a tiny nod. "I guess you are."

And then the sky chose that exact moment to open up above them, pouring buckets of rain down the sky that cascaded over Sirius's head, and he jumped up gleefully, spinning around and holding his arms out to the side.

Remus groaned from where he was on the bench, slipping the book inside his jumper and rolling his eyes up at Sirius, looking disgruntled.

"It's raining!" Sirius called out into the nothingness, and the laugh bubbled up inside him again, euphoric and erupting out of him. "It's raining!"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Remus mumbled, but his eyes were caught on Sirius's spinning figure as he ran around the park with a grin on his face. Before they left, Sirius hesitated at Remus’s side.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" he asked with a tilt of his head, and Remus nodded reluctantly.

"Yeah," he said, "You probably will."

"Great," Sirius said with another smile, holding his arms out to the rain again in what looked like a sacrifice. Remus just rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling despite himself, and that just made Sirius smile more. There was something about Remus that inspired him to smile until every last drop had been wrung from the clouds, until the world was swamped in water and flooded with a tumble of rain.

There was something about Remus that he just couldn't resist.

When they left the park, James was also grinning like a madman.

"I take it that went well?" Sirius asked, with a cursory nudge in James's ribs. James didn't even pay attention to the rain, too busy running a hand through his hair. He seemed to take a second to even realize Sirius had spoken.

"What?" he asked, and when Sirius started to ask again, James seemed to realize what he'd said halfway through. "Yeah, yeah, mate. She's such a dork."

"And that's a good thing?"

"Did you see her? She was trying to debate about the best angle for the slide, and..." he trailed off, sighing to himself and grinning over at Sirius. "Sorry I kind of ditched you there, I thought you'd be fine talking to Remus."

"Yeah," Sirius said, and he smiled to himself.

James shot a sidelong look at him, something close to suspicion.

"What?" Sirius frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing," James said quickly, and he looked away hurriedly, kicking at the puddles again so that he'd have something better to do with himself. "I'm glad it went well, that's all. You were nervous about it."

"Shut up," Sirius snapped, flicking James and letting the rain continue to spill over his arms. "I was not nervous."

* * *

The next day, Remus was inevitably back in his chair, wearing another jumper as always. This one made his eyes especially green. Sirius didn’t usually notice people’s eyes — in fact, he never did, because usually he wasn’t close enough to see the colors. But there was something about Remus’s eyes that drew Sirius to them immediately, that projected color from whatever distance.

Sirius smiled when he sat down next to Remus. He didn't have to hesitate anymore. He just sat, and he didn't worry about annoying Remus, because Remus didn't seem to have any qualms about opening his book and starting to read if he got bored. And Sirius liked Remus. He liked the way Remus smiled, he liked the way Remus talked to him. He felt almost special that Remus enjoyed his company.

He felt wanted, and he didn't want to give that up — he didn't want to give up the strange mood of happiness that he'd slipped into, that now seemed to be a part of his everyday life.

"Hey," he said when he sat down next to Remus.

"Hey," Remus said with a smile, sliding the bookmark into his book. "Thanks for inviting Lily and me with you yesterday."

"Thanks for coming," Sirius countered. He glanced down at the book in Remus's lap. "I see you're already onto another book."

"Yeah," Remus laughed. "I guess I am."

Sirius shook his head incredulously, and studied the cover. "I don't think I've read as many books in my life as you've read in the last week."

"Yeah," Remus shrugged. "I like to read."

"I never would have guessed," Sirius gasped, feigning shock and leaning back in his beach chair, closing his eyes. "You? You like to read?"

"Oh, shut up."

"Remus!" It was McGonagall again, and she walked over to Remus with a frown creasing her face. "I've been meaning to talk with you again. How's that foot coming along?"

"Oh," Remus said, sending a quick look at Sirius that he probably would have missed if he hadn't been paying close attention. But he was. "It's okay, but it's going to be a while," he said slowly, looking down.

"Hmm," McGonagall said slowly. "Okay. Well, keep me updated, will you? It would be a shame for the team to miss you. You're a good swimmer, Mr. Lupin." Remus frowned and nodded at the ground. He didn't meet McGonagall's eyes.

When she walked away, Sirius really couldn't help himself. "Do you actually want to swim? It's... you don't particularly seem like you want to."

Remus glared at him.

Sirius shrunk back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm just curious."

"Well stop being curious," Remus said. "Yes, I'd love to swim, but I hurt my foot. That's all of it, okay? That's all there is to it."

"Right," Sirius said meekly, looking away and ducking his head, feeling immensely guilty. "Sorry."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, stop apologizing. It's fine."

But Sirius still felt guilty, and he hated it.

“Hey Sirius! Stop talking for once and get over here and help me!” James barked. Sirius sighed and stretched his legs out a little bit further, yawning at James and staying right where. “Sirius Black!” James yelled again. “You get over here right now!”

Sirius jumped up quickly to hurry over, shooting an apologetic look at Remus, whose expression was oddly frozen in place.

“What?” he groaned, hurrying over to help James. He spent the better part of an hour helping to take food orders and direct people towards the indoor pool before he finally got a moment’s break, and with that he yawned and turned back towards Remus.

When he went back over to sit down next to Remus, he didn’t look up from his book.

“Remus?” he asked hesitantly.

Remus’s eyes weren’t moving. They were unfocused and glassy and staring at one word on the page, but he didn’t respond. He just flipped a page like he thought that would be convincing enough. Sirius wasn’t convinced at all.

“Remus?”

He still didn’t answer. He stared at the same spot, jaw clenched and fixed, hard, angry. Sirius was starting to shrivel up. He could feel everything in his stomach caving into one place, no idea what was happening. No idea why Remus refused to talk to him.

“Hey.”

“Look, I’m trying to read,” Remus said quickly, looking in the other direction, and Sirius recoiled as though he’d been punched. He didn’t argue. He couldn’t fight back. Maybe he’d been asking for this all along anyways. Hadn’t Remus been the one who said I’m very selective about the people I befriend?

“I can see that,” Sirius said quietly. He stood up and started to walk away. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

* * *

The next day was worse.

Sirius tried to sit down next to Remus again, where he was sitting next to Lily and two other girls.

“Hey,” he said tentatively, looking over at Remus.

“Hi,” Remus said tightly, not quite meeting his eyes, instead looking at a point that was directly over his shoulder. The two girls turned around at the sound of his voice, and Sirius remembered seeing them on the swim team with Lily.

“Hi!” one of them said brightly. She was busy pulling a swim cap over the other girl’s head. “I’m Dorcas, and this is my g—”

“Friend,” Remus cut in loudly. “That’s her friend Marlene. They swim with Lily.”

The girl named Dorcas turned around to frown at Remus, who gave a tiny shake of his head. Sirius had no idea what was happening. He felt lost and confused, the sun was beating down merrily in a way that made him want to cry, and all trace of a flame was gone from his stomach. Instead he was empty, leeched dry from the loss, wondering what on earth he’d done to deserve any of this.

He’d thought Remus was his friend, he really had, and he had no clue what he’d done to change that. Apparently, Remus wasn’t about to tell him what. His lips were pressed so tight together that it looked like they’d been made that way, the skin on one melding smoothly into the other.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius frowned, looking away again. “I don’t want to bother you.”

He walked back over to James.

“Hey!” James said. “I was wondering if  you’d want to invite Lily and Remus to do something with us again? To hang out? You had fun last time, right?”

Sirius’s stomach clenched again, because the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about Remus. He didn’t even want to think about Remus or the cold look that he’d worn only moments earlier, the one Sirius had known he must have caused.

This was the reason Sirius didn’t have many friends, the reason he hid himself away. He was worthless. Even Remus knew that now — he’d finally realized the true nature of Sirius’s existence. It had really only been a matter of time before he realized, but somehow Sirius had allowed himself a tiny spark of hope, a mere possibility that Remus actually liked him.

That he was actually…worth something.

Of course, of course, he’d been proved wrong again.

Of course he was worth nothing. Why would he ever contradict his family? Why would anybody ever prove him wrong?

But it still stung.

“I think Remus hates me, and I’m not sure why,” Sirius muttered under his breath. “He won’t want to do anything with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sirius, I’m sure it’s just your brain playing tricks on you. He doesn’t actually hate you. You’ve been talking to him for a couple weeks now, haven’t you? Sirius. He doesn’t hate you, okay?”

“You think? Then go ask them. You’ll see.”

So that’s exactly what James did. He walked over to where Remus and Lily were standing, and talked to them. Remus said something, James frowned, Lily frowned, Remus said something else. Sirius watched on with a feeling of nausea flowing through him, like he was in a plane just lifted off from the ground.

When James came back a few minutes later, he looked worn out.

“So?” Sirius asked, pursing his lips and waiting for the negative verdict that was almost certainly about to come.

“He says he’s busy,” James said quietly, “He says he can’t make it today.”

“Right,” Sirius spat. “I told you from the beginning, James. I told you he wouldn’t want to — to be friends with me.” Sirius hated how completely vulnerable he sounded, even to himself. He hated that he was so completely insecure, that all it took was a few words or some off-putting glances to throw his entire world askew and tint it with a color that he never wanted to see again.

And that’s what he’d allowed Remus to do, wasn’t it? He’d let Remus in. He’d given Remus a chance to be a part of his heart, he’d put stock in Remus and he’d given Remus access to the emotions that he usually kept protected.

Now he didn’t have complete control anymore, and he remembered why he promised not to do this in the first place.

Of all people to give control over him, it had to be Remus, who always seemed keen on turning to ignoring people when he didn’t know what he should say, which was the one thing that Sirius couldn’t stand. He couldn’t be ignored. He couldn’t, because then he was back in his family’s house all over again, sitting in his room and wishing he wasn’t so horribly worthless.

When he walked out of the pool area that day, he was barely holding back tears.

For the rest of the day and the start of the next, his stomach was swimming with an awfully horrible feeling that absolutely everything had gone wrong, He cursed himself again, wondering why he had to be so dependent on other people, why they held such sway over him.

He wished their words would bounce off him. He wished he was strong, like James, or even like Peter, instead of so pathetically futile.

He didn’t bother walking over to greet Remus. He didn’t even look at Remus. He almost wished he could transfer jobs, because he was letting himself wallow in emotions that shouldn’t be bothering him so much. He hated this. He hated himself.

He hated how worthless he was to absolutely everything, and he wanted to cry.

* * *

A week passed. Sirius felt lonely when he wasn’t talking to Remus, and even though he’d only met Remus around a week ago, he felt as though he’d made a huge mistake. He felt as though he’d lost something incredibly important, and he was starting to worry that he wouldn’t have a chance to get it back. He wondered why he couldn’t go back to how it’d been before.

He’d tried talking to Remus twice, to no avail. Lily seemed to have no idea what was going on — at least that’s what James informed him — and no matter how much James tried to cheer him up, he felt like curling up and going into hibernation, away from everyone else.

Sirius was doing his best, hiding away in the corner of the pool and checking people in, still wondering at why his heart was so terribly vulnerable.

It wasn't until they showed up at the pool that he realized how much he'd been craving conflict of any kind to distract him, to take him away from his ceaseless wallowing in his own pain.

It was only two of them — his brother and Bellatrix — but they were quite obviously looking for trouble. They always were.

They stalked into the pool past Sirius, ignoring his quick opposition, ignoring his attempts to stop them and ignoring when he called for backup. They stalked into the pool and went right over to where the swim team was gathering to practice. Bellatrix grabbed the arm of the girl that Sirius remembered to be Dorcas, and Regulus snatched at Marlene.

"Look at us, you absolute fucking queers," Bellatrix snarled. Sirius was running before he knew what he was doing, and he was fighting before he knew what he was doing, and then there was blood spraying everywhere, dripping down the side of the tile and flowering into the pool like colored food flavoring, a bright red that scattered outwards before him.

He couldn't see - he didn't care enough to see, because he was too busy striking out at every inch he could possibly reach.

"Get the fuck off them!" Sirius was snarling, and then all of a sudden he was being pulled back by James, who was murmuring something in his ear that he couldn't quite hear. There were other people from the pool swarming around them now, ushering out Bellatrix and Regulus, waving them frantically away. And then there were people grabbing at Sirius too, on all sides.

"What were you thinking?" somebody hissed, but then James was there pulling him to the side, pushing him down on a chair.

"Are you okay?" James asked quickly, looking at the bruises already starting to blossom on Sirius's knuckles. He'd been punching completely blindly, not caring where he struck, and apparently he'd hit bone more often than he'd intended.

"Fine," Sirius grunted, frowning down at his fists. There was still an cloud of absolute euphoria around him, and adrenaline was more commonplace than blood in his veins, running through him without pause.

He felt good. He felt useful. He'd stopped his family - he'd done something to be helpful, he'd pulled them away from the pair of girls.

"What happened?" James asked under his breath. "I didn't see until you were attacking them."

"They went over to Marlene and Dorcas, grabbed them and started calling them..." Sirius trailed off, the word heavy in his throat, and he wasn't strong enough to push it out as a full word so he settled for a whisper. "Called them… queers."

James took a deep breath and let Sirius's hands go. "Okay, listen, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to ask Peter to take care of the pool, and we're walking to the park, and we're going to get over this Remus thing, and we're going to get over your family, okay? Sulking is over. Fighting is over."

Sirius didn't bother to argue. Sometimes James got ideas into his head and it really was never worth bothering to fight.

They walked through the grass, and each step sent another zing of adrenaline through Sirius. He was full of energy and he couldn't help but go faster until he was running and James was chasing after him, and then they were racing, as they did. They finally collapsed in the grass next to the park, gulping for air and staring up at the sky as they laughed.

"Okay," James said finally, "Listen to me. Here's what we're going to do."

"Mmm," Sirius said. Sometimes James seemed to think he could fix Sirius, or at least help put his mind back on the right track. "What are we going to do?" He was humoring James, because he knew James was only trying to help.

"You're going to tell me everything that's bothering you right now."

Sirius sighed. He stared up at the sky.

"Remus hates me. My family hates me. You're the only one in the world that doesn't, and I can’t seem to do everything right, and I’m completely worthless.”

James stared up at the sky along with him.

"You know," he said slowly, "I think you've just gotten along with the wrong people. It's awful luck, it really is, but the world is a lot bigger than Hogsmeade. There are people outside of here, and you won't be stuck here forever, yeah?”

"Yeah," Sirius sighed. "I know that. It just...it sucks. I liked Remus, too. He seemed nice. He talked to me, and then — he just suddenly stopped, and then I felt like nothing. I still kind of do."

"You aren't nothing," James said immediately. "You're here for me whenever I need you, and I'm not sure what I'd do without you. Now. We're going to march back to that pool, and we're going to do our job, and everything is going to be okay."

Sirius looked at him with a smile, and then he looked back up at the sky.

"There's a dog," he said finally, after a long pause.

"What?"

"Up there, in the clouds. There's a dog."

James followed his finger to the tangle of lazily drifting clouds that formed a hazy cover to the sky.

"I don't see any dogs," he said with a frown. "There's a stag, just there, but there definitely aren't any dogs."

Sirius just laughed and propped himself up on one elbow, watching the meandering journey of the clouds as they went slowly through the sky, floating on their way as they barely blocked out the sun. The sun couldn’t seem to be stopped by anything, with rays that filtered onto the park and reflected off the metal poles of the jungle gym.

"Okay, are we going then?" Sirius asked finally, standing up and preparing himself. He steeled his mind and started to walk — he felt James come up beside him a moment later.

"I can't believe you attacked Bellatrix," he said finally with a laugh. "She's going to kill you."

"I know," Sirius grinned back. "I've never felt more satisfied in my life. I hate that Regulus was there, though. I’m starting to lose hope with him.“ His smiled faded and he closed his eyes, walking blindly.

"Hey, can I ask you something, and will you promise me that you won't get mad?" James asked slowly.

"Why would you think I'd get mad?" Sirius asked, voice laced with confusion, and he frowned at James with something akin to worry. James wasn't usually reserved in asking questions, but now all of a sudden he was asking permission, and that was setting off alarm bells inside Sirius's head.

"It's just — it's almost insulting to ask, because I know you're a good person who would never — I just… you aren’t homophobic, right?”

Sirius stopped dead, choking and turning to look at James.

"I'm sorry, what?"

James waved him off quickly.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't actually think... I just had to make sure. God, I'm sorry, don't be mad at me please?"

"I'm not mad at you," he said quickly, reassuring James, but he looked at him strangely all the same. "I'm just wondering why on earth you'd think that. I just attacked my cousins for calling Marlene and Dorcas a slur, and now all of a sudden you think I'm the one who’s homophobic?"

"Oh," James said, understanding suddenly. "No. I... you were very averse to saying the word queer, and I wondered if it was because. Well. I’m sorry, I had to make sure though.”

“I’m not homophobic,” Sirius said again, if only to reiterate. “I hate the word, that’s all. My family loves it a little bit too much for my tastes.”

“Okay,” James said, with a noise that almost sounded like relief. “Good. Now, time to get back to the pool, you think?”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Sirius was staring down at the counter under the overhang of the pool, trying to figure out if the discolored spot was a stain or some weird grain in the wood, when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eyes.

He didn't look up at first — James had been flitting in and out for the past half-hour — but when the figure came to a stop in front of him, he couldn't help himself.

He looked up then, and almost wished he hadn't. Remus was standing in front of him, curls alight and eyes looking duller than usual. He looked tired. He also looked smaller, like he had shrunken into his sweater for protection.

"Hey," he said quietly, and Sirius stared back at him, trying to keep the incredulity from his face. He didn't bother responding. He wasn't sure if it was to give Remus a taste of his own medicine or because he was lost for words, but either way he remained silent.

Remus shifted on his feet, putting his weight on one then the other, thumbing the corner of his book, his eyes flickering down to glare at the floor.

"Will you — do you want to walk to the park with me after you get off?" Remus asked, his words meshing together and his voice progressively softer with each word. Sirius was certain he would have missed it if it had been anybody other than Remus, but unfortunately, he was stuck hanging on to every word.

"What?" Sirius asked, hoping he wasn't the product of some prank.

"I need to talk to you," Remus said, grimacing and clenching the fist that wasn't holding his book. Sirius’s own fists were still bloody and bruised. “I made...I made a mistake, and I want to apologize."

"Can't you do that now?" Sirius asked. His tone came out sharper than he'd intended, far more metallic and bitter, so much so that he could almost taste it in his mouth. After being ignored by Remus for a week, he wasn't feeling particularly generous.

"Yeah. But I'd prefer if — look, please? It won't be long. I just need to talk with you."

It wasn't Sirius's fault that Remus's eyes were the perfect mix of imploring and sad that seemed to be prime for convincing people to do things. They were too bright and Sirius hated being the one to douse other people's hope. He liked making their faces glow, light up.

"Fine," Sirius said finally, after a pause where the yells of children were especially loud and the splashes from the pool rang out far too much. "Fine. But you're going to have to explain why you've been an arse to me these past few weeks, because I really don't appreciate it. Any of it."

"I know," Remus said quietly. "I will. I’ll explain.”

So, when they day waned, Sirius waved James home and lingered at the pool to close up. Remus was waiting for him at the door and staring down at his shoes, kicking one of them against the pavement and watching the pebbles skitter like he'd never seen one before.

"Okay," Sirius said finally, when he'd at last finished closing up. "Let's go."

They started walking, and Sirius couldn't keep back the tirade that had been brewing ever since Remus asked him to walk.

"What have you been playing at? Did I say something? I thought we were actually friends, you know, because that's what you said in the park, but then this is what you give me in return. You completely ignore me, and you somehow refuse to explain."

Remus still stared at the ground, and Sirius couldn't make out his expression because his head was tilted slightly away, angled just so.

"If you don't want to be my friend, just tell me that, okay? It's not like I can't handle it."

"You're a Black," Remus burst out finally. They'd reached the grassy expanse on the edge of the park and Sirius had slowed when Remus said it, closing his eyes and angling his head forward towards the park in what would be staring if he could see.

"What?"

"You're a Black," Remus repeated, turning to squint at Sirius. "Sirius Black."

"You've been ignoring me because I'm a Black," Sirius gaped at him, and things were starting to fit together in that way they always seemed to do far too late.

He started walking again, and he didn't bother to check if Remus was following him. He could hear the soft padding of feet behind him anyways. He came to a halt at the edge of the park, where wood chips were scattered around the grass and the bench stood slightly crooked.

He sat. He stared out over the playground.

He felt Remus sit down beside him, but he couldn't look right now — instead he closed his eyes and let himself slip off into a world that was blissfully simpler. He sank down slightly, wishing he was at James's house right now, but that only reminded him of his own house.

"Why?" Sirius asked suddenly, not opening his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead as if that could forestall the pressure he could feel starting to build in his skull, just above his eyes.

"Everyone knows what the Blacks are like," Remus shrugged. He seemed uncomfortable, and Sirius wanted him to be. “They’ve harassed my friends before.”

"Really? And even after talking to me, you thought I was like them? Would you want to be born into that kind of family?"

"I'm sorry," Remus said. He refused to raise his voice above the softest lilt, something Sirius might have found endearing if he wasn't so angry.

His limbs were filling with the energy that so often overtook him, and he could feel words filling up his mouth, because he had too much to say. They came out jumbled when he finally spoke, scrawled through the air, and he didn't really care if Remus could understand him. He didn't want to think about etiquette at a time like this.

"I thought you were dif — you knew — spoke to me! Why would… and then you changed your mind?"

Remus was still staring down, and Sirius wanted to grab his head and force him to look up, to meet Sirius's eyes, to give an explanation that went beyond just his family name, because Remus... Remus had never been the kind of person to be that shallow.

"What?" Remus whispered, realizing that Sirius was waiting for an answer.

"What changed your mind?"

"You... at the pool. You stopped your cousin. I recognized her. Bellatrix, she’s given us trouble before. She was attacking Marls and Dorcas, and you stopped her.”

Sirius shook his head at the ground, glaring at the woodchips and wishing they would burst into flame.

"That's what it took?"

"I'm sorry," Remus said again, and he sounded so incredibly sad that Sirius had to be careful not to let his heart speak for him. He'd long since learned that his heart was useless at times like this.

He didn't trust himself anymore.

"Well, good for you," he said sourly.

"I want to be friends again," Remus said, choking out the words, and Sirius could feel the tension building in his limbs, again and again, until he was full to the brim and he had to let it out somehow before he snapped.

He started pacing in front of the bench again, side to side, tracing paths into the woods chips and leaving indentations where he stepped. Now he was the one looking down, resolutely refusing to meet Remus's eyes or look anywhere close to him.

"Do you?" Sirius snapped at him. “You really want to be friends? You've realized I'm not a terrible person?"

"I shouldn't have judged you because of your family," Remus said quietly, almost sounding ashamed, but Sirius didn't care much. "I was being stupid and shortsighted."

"Yeah," Sirius said, "Yeah. You were. I have to go. I have to think.“

Remus nodded sadly.

Sirius didn't waste a second in running home, his legs alight with the flame of energy, trying to pound it out and leave it on the concrete, but he couldn't shake the feeling building up inside of him. By all means, he should be happy. He'd been hoping for this — wishing for this really, ever since Remus had started ignoring him. He wanted to be friends with Remus and he'd hoped without daring to do so, and now his hopes had been fulfilled.

But not in the way he’d wanted. Instead, the coal inside his stomach was a charred lump, and it was black, black, Black. He was tainted. It didn't matter what he did, and it no longer mattered what he said. He was a Black. The coal was black, black, black, and he couldn't get the stain off his name. He wasn't Sirius, no matter how much he tried to be. He had never been just Sirius.

It was, and it would always be, Sirius Black.

He knocked on the James's window after scampering up the tree like he'd done too many times before, secretly relishing the way his palms cried out underneath the bark, scraped, the skin peeling slightly. He let out a breath of relief as the branches whipped at him, sending scratches running down his legs. He had too much energy, too much adrenaline, and somehow it was as though the pain was letting it all out.

"James," he hissed. "James, open your window."

He was lucky James was paying attention, because sometimes he would catch him at a time when James was blasting music that could be heard around the block, and it would take him far too many minutes to notice Sirius there.

But as it was, he caught sight of Sirius immediately and quickly undid the latch to let him in, face folding in worry when he saw the look on Sirius's face. Sirius wasn't sure he wanted to know what he looked like, because he felt absolutely terrible, and he would do anything to erase feeling from his body.

"What happened?" James asked as he clambered through the window. "Was it your family?"

Sirius shook his head sourly, for the first time wishing it had actually been his family, because all he could do now was whisper the word. "Remus."

"Shit," James cursed, frowning, his eyebrows dipping in the middle and forming that signature crease in his forehead. "Come in, come on, tell me what happened. I can't read your mind."

Sirius hurried over and let himself collapse on the bed. He hadn't realize how tired he was until this very second, but now his eyes couldn't keep themselves open. When he closed them, it came with a strange kind of relief that almost made him feel sick, and his eyes seemed to glue themselves shut.

"What did he do?" James asked quietly.

“He talked to me after work ended," Sirius said, proceeding to explain the entire situation, to tell James that Remus had been ignoring him because of his name.

James looked at him the whole time, assessing but not offering up any opinions, apparently waiting for Sirius's verdict instead. But Sirius wasn't sure if he had a verdict. He was a mess of rolling emotions inside that were tangled into one big lump, and he wasn't sure he if he could ever pull apart the different threads to see what they were. He wasn't sure he wanted to get into that, to look at the horrifying mess he was on the inside, because he was terrified that once he looked, there was really no coming back from it.

On the one hand, he really did like Remus. There was something about Remus that made him feel warm inside, and he realized that Remus was something special — something he would be stupid to give up, no matter what his shortcomings were.

But there was another part of Sirius that couldn't do it, that wasn't sure if he could keep looking Remus in the eyes and not remember the monster that was still inside himself. The Black family monster, the one that was lurking somewhere, that would most certainly pounce out at the first given chance.

Sirius had always been secretly terrified that he was like his family, or perhaps that he would become his family. He wasn't sure why. It was an irrational fear, to be sure, because he was his own person. But he was still terrified — terrified that in a moment of anger he would lash out like they did, that in a moment he couldn't overcome, he would end up doing something like them. He wasn't sure if he would be able to stand doing something like that and still come out the other side the same.

And Remus saw that. That was what Remus saw in him.

"I don't know," Sirius said quietly.

"He apologized," James said mildly.

"I know he did," SIrius spat out, "And I hate that it all makes sense, I mean... of course he would hate the Black family, because even I do."

"No, don't make excuses." James was immediately on the defensive, standing now with his arms crossed and a tiny fround curving his mouth down. "Wait. What he did was wrong."

"Yeah, but —“

"No, no buts," James continued. "You know it was wrong right? There's nothing wrong with you for being a part of that awful family. He shouldn't have judged you based on them. He shouldn't have ignored you. That was wrong and there's no other word for it. He messed up, and he should accept that, okay?"

"I guess," Remus said quietly. "But I don't know if I should - should I be friends with him anyway?"

James shrugged.

"I can't decide that for you," he said reasonably. "Do you want to?"

"Well, I do, but -"

"Instinct," James said, cutting in. It was a game they played when Sirius had an especially hard time making decisions. First he would say what his choice would be on instinct — it helped to figure out what his options were.

"Yes," Sirius said without hesitation. "I would."

"Okay," James said slowly. "Now, think it through."

"I wouldn't want to because I'm scared the same thing will happen," Sirius said at last. "He seems the type of person who… he doesn't exactly run from his problems, but he keeps things to himself a lot. He doesn't talk things through because he doesn't do that, but that means he ignores me, and that's not something...well."

James knew that he had trouble with being ignored, that he was exceptionally needy at times, and that was a part of his personality that he didn't think would change any time soon.

"Regardless, you know you have me," James reminded him.

"Yeah," Sirius said. "I guess so."

"Good. So you're going to talk to him then?"

"I guess so," Sirius repeated, because that was all he could give at the moment. Anything more certain felt like too much of a commitment for him, something he wasn't exactly prepared to hand out at a moment’s notice. "I'll talk to him."

"Right," James said. "Now. Can you help me make brownies? My mum wants me to bake them before she gets home, for some potluck or something. I don't even understand what it is, but I do know that I'm probably going to end up burning down the kitchen unless there's somebody there to stop me, and at the moment that so happens to be you."

"You really think it's a good idea to trust me with an oven?" Sirius asked with a grin, and James just rolled his eyes.

Chapter Text

The next day it was mild outside. A good temperature for summer perhaps, but not the best for people who wanted to swim. It made getting into the pool miserable, although Sirius sometimes enjoyed watching the grimaces when people slipped fully into the icy water. That was something he'd never get tired of.

When Remus sat down in his chair, he glanced up at Sirius for a second. Their eyes met — held — for longer than was probably necessary. But it wasn’t Sirius’s fault, not with the amber glow in his eyes that never seemed to vanish. Something about Remus’s gaze, about the way he almost seemed to read Sirius in that two second span, made Sirius feel strangely vulnerable.

"Hey," he said, walking over to Remus and sitting down next to him.

"Hey," Remus said tentatively. For once, he wasn't even holding his book. His hand twitched in his lap like he was seeking it out for comfort, but it was sitting on the side table, as though he was making an effort to give Sirius his full attention and show him how apologetic he was. "Sirius, I'm really sorry."

But Sirius forestalled him with a finger, shaking his head.

"It's okay," he said. "But don't do that again, yeah? I'm not my family." Even after he said it, he repeated the words in his head, wishing saying them would make them true, truer than they felt. He said them out loud once again for good measure. "I'm not my family."

"I know you aren't," Remus told him. "You're nothing like your family, and that's something I should have realized sooner."

"It's okay," Sirius said.

"Not really," Remus frowned, and Sirius was grateful for that, because as much as he wanted to brush it aside, it was still there. It was still inside him, the words eating away at him, as words tended to do.

"Whatever," Sirius shrugged. "It happened. It's done. Now, what book is that? I have to catch up, you’ve probably been through fifteen books in the time we didn’t talk.”

"Yeah," Remus said, and he smiled tentatively again. He was wearing a green knit jumper today - it matched his eyes, of course it did, the perfect shades of green and dripping gold, and his whole face seemed to light up that color of gold when he smiled.

He proceeded to go off on a long ramble about his book, about the finer intricacies in the relationship between the protagonist and a villain who went by the name of Alörn, apparently. Sirius wasn't listening to the exact words he was saying, he was just listening to the fact that Remus was saying words, that he was talking to Sirius and smiling, and that the world felt just a tiny bit more right.

They decided to go to the park again that afternoon. It gave Sirius another bout of unnameable feelings that he wasn't sure how to untangle, because the park was starting to feel like their place. Like Lily's and Remus's and James's and his, like it was expanding to encompass Lily and Remus too, and as much as he was apprehensive about that it also felt strangely right.

"Hey," Lily said, yawning and letting her hair out of a bun as she walked up next to Sirius. Her hair was even darker red after she'd been swimming, and she shook her head, sending droplets of water skittering across the ground. Almost like rain, Sirius thought, smiling to himself.

"Hey," he said, smiling at her. They hadn't talked much still, but she felt warm. Everything about her felt warm, in a way that was less intense than Remus but warm nonetheless.

"Remus told me he was being an idiot."

Sirius laughed, looking over at Remus, who seemed to be pretending he couldn't hear them, but there was a flush on his face accompanied by a grimace at Lily's words.

"It's alright," he said. "Remus apologized." And as he said the words, he realized they were true. It was alright. Remus was alright — more than, actually, and he'd made a mistake. That was all it was.

"Well," Lily said, "For the record, you attacking Bellatrix was super badass. Marlene told me to send you her thanks."

"Are they okay?" Sirius asked worriedly. He'd talked to them once since the incident, but he hated to think about it for more reasons than he cared to admit, even to himself.

"They're alright," Remus said from his other side. "A little shaken up, but okay."

“Good,” Sirius said. “Well, to the park then?”

“Sure,” Lily said, yawning. "Come on, last one there is the rotten egg.”

They broke out into a run, which Sirius was infinitely grateful for, because it gave him a chance to work out all the spare energy that had been slowly gathering inside his muscles. He ran, as hard and fast as he could, and even then it didn’t feel fast enough. He could feel the jolts up his legs with each step he took, and knew his form was probably completely off, but he couldn't bring himself to care because he was just living for a second, running as fast as he could and flying over the ground. He was running, running, running, and nobody could stop him.

He barely even noticed that Lily was outstripping him, or that Remus was close behind her. He didn't see James, desperately trying to keep up, but lagging just behind. He didn't see the trees or the grass or anything. It was all one blissfully unclear blur of color, no longer distinct shapes or lines, no longer something real that he had to think about. It was all just there.

They collapsed in the park, laughing, and lying on their backs, gasping for air that was fuzzy above them.

“We’re ridiculous,” Lily burst out laughing. “By the way James, you’re the rotten egg.”

“Fine,” James said, rolling his eyes and flopping over on his stomach. He looked over at Sirius and smiled, and Sirius smiled back at him. He was infinitely grateful for James, and that was something he didn’t think he’d ever get over. James had always been there for him, every time he’d come running from his house to escape either the hurled words or oppressive silence, because it seemed unbearable no matter what his family was doing.

They stared up at the clouds, and Sirius grinned. This was one of his favorite games — the clouds were so fleeting, blowing across the sky and dissolving, melding into other shapes, never quite sure what they were or what they would be the next second. Moving on, always moving, changing colors and turning into something entirely based on your perception of them.

“There’s a dog again,” Sirius murmured, staring up at a cloud directly above him.

“Hmm?” Remus asked from where he was lying.

“The cloud, it looks like a dog,” Sirius said pointing up at the cloud directly above him. The dog was slowly shifting, but to his surprise, Remus seemed to catch it.

“That’s not a dog,” Remus said, laughing as though the notion was ridiculous. “It’s obviously a werewolf, see?” He pointed up at the sky as well, finger traveling from the werewolf over to the sun. “He’s howling at the sun.”

“The sun?” Sirius asked. “Seems rather out of character, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, well he’s an outcast,” Remus informed him, staring up at the clouds. “He was born in the sunlight instead of the moonlight like all the other werewolves, so he’s always howled at the sun.”

Sirius smiled to himself. Although he wouldn’t say it out loud, it felt like he was getting a piece of Remus’s brain. He wondered if this is what Remus’s writing was like, if he wrote about werewolves who howled at the sun instead of the moon, if he wrote about outcasts who were different than the rest of their pack. He wondered if Remus saw himself as an outcast.

“There’s a doe,” Lily said, pointing up at a different cloud, and James looked over at her in shock.

“What?” she asked when she caught his glance, but James didn’t say anything. He just looked over at Sirius, who rolled his eyes, because he could read James’s mind without him saying a word. It was inevitable that he was thinking back to last week, when they’d stared up at the clouds and James had somehow picked a stag out of the muddled shapes and whisps. He could almost hear James now, rambling on about soulmates or something of the sort. Sirius thought he was being ridiculous, but he let James have his strange moment of triumph.

They stared up at the sky for a while longer, lazily watching as the clouds changed shapes. It was oddly relaxing to feel like they weren’t doing a thing, even though it set Sirius on edge after too long. When he finally stood up, the rest of the world felt too hard. It was the way he felt when he stayed up late into the night and then the sun came up, ruining the beautifully black and starry-filled version of the world that he’d been enjoying for so long.

Sirius usually stayed up late into the nights. He never had trouble sleeping, but he enjoyed the dark way more than he cared to admit. The dark felt like him — ignored. People hated the dark, they fell asleep when it was dark, they only came out for the light.

But Sirius, Sirius lived in the dark, when the rain was pounding overhead and the world was invisible. He didn’t ignore the dark. He was too used to being ignored himself, and he didn’t envy that anymore.

“Do you want to go for ice cream?” James asked with a yawn. “There’s a place just down the street where we can go, if you want.”

“Sure,” Remus said. He yawned as well — it was catching and spreading between them as they walked, running down the line like a domino trail of yawns. Here and there, here and there, and Sirius laughed, yawning himself when he saw Lily stifling her own with a fist.

They reached the ice cream shop faster than usual — Florean Fortescue’s was the best place in town, situated on the side of the road and generally the hangout spot for all people in their town. Florean was a nice little man who never forgot anybody’s name, and he would hand out free ice creams on birthdays or to celebrate special occasions.

Lily grinned when she saw where they were going.

“Hey, I remember this place!” she exclaimed. “We came here to celebrate winning one of our swim meets once and he gave us all free ice cream. He’s really nice.”

“Yeah,” James grinned, seeming especially pleased that Lily approved of the choice. “Florean is the best, of course.”

“I don’t think I’ve been here before,” Remus said curiously, staring at the tiny shop and then looking over at Sirius.

“Well, you’re missing out,” Sirius informed him. “You haven’t really lived until you’ve had his ice cream.

Florean smiled merrily as they walked into the shop.

“James and Sirius!” he said joyfully, waving in greeting, and Sirius felt a smile stealing over him despite himself. He couldn’t help it — Florean’s smiles were like yawns, jumping from person to person, irresistible.

It didn't matter who you were - it barely even mattered what mood you were in, because Florean just had that aura. It went along perfectly with the scent of his shop, a sweet tang that Sirius imagined would be exactly the aroma of crystallized sugar.

There were colorful signs hanging on the back wall - handmade, because that was Florean's way, and there was a large menu board in braille on the front which he'd created after a blind girl had come to his shop unable to read the signs.

Florean was just that wonderful person, the one who seemed to reap joy just from pure existence, from living in the world, from interacting, from putting smiles on faces and watching people leave just slightly more cheerful than they had been when they came into the shop.

Sirius was in awe of him. He'd created his own tiny place in this world, had scooped out a hollow and made it his own, had hung pieces of himself everywhere and given a piece to everybody that came to him. He saw good in everyone and everything, and where he couldn't see good he made it. He never stopped smiling.

Sirius wondered if Florean ever got lonely - he wondered idly what Florean was like after his shop cleared out for the night. He wondered if it was a polished veneer that he placed in front of his face to hide from something else.

Anything was possible, really.

"And, let me see..." he said, studying Lily with a frown, eyes narrowing. "You are — it's a flower, I know that..." he paused for a moment, studying Lily's face carefully. "Lily?"

Lily stared at him in shock, evidently unable to believe that he'd actually remembered. It was a feat of performance that only made Florean seem that much more homely. Names were important to people.

They were certainly important to Sirius.

Sirius, not Sirius Black.

"And who is this young man?" he asked, turning to Remus. "Or person?" he corrected himself quickly, giving a tiny smile of apology to Remus.

"I'm Remus," he said, looking around Florean's shop.

"Nice to meet you, Remus," Florean smiled at him. It was cooler inside his shop, but Sirius could still feel the impression of the beating sun and the ghost touches of sweat over his back.

"Nice to meet you too."

Florean turned back to help another customer, and Remus glanced over at Sirius.

"Do you have any recommendations of ice cream to get, then? If you've been here before? I don't know the place that well, so anything would be appreciated."

"Oh, it's all good," Sirius said with a grin. "Florean's the best there is, you can't go wrong with any of these." He waved his hand over the wide array of ice creams, all with swirled colors that blended together into a huge rainbow of ice cream. Frozen, crystallized perfectly, shaped by hand because that was how Florean did things. "What kind of ice cream do you like?"

Remus shrugged. He held his book closer, as though nervous, and his eyes flitted over the list.

"Probably vanilla," he said, and his voice sounded oddly nervous as well.

"A good choice," Sirius said with a smile, "Although James is going to get on your case about being boring and unoriginal."

"Yeah, James can stuff it," Remus said with an ungainly snort that made Sirius laugh.

"Right, Lily, what're you getting?" Sirius asked, yawning and pulling money out of his pocket.

Lily stared at the money for a second and then waved him off

"Absolutely not," Lily said, and she pushed his money away. "I'm not taking that, we can pay for ourselves."

"Oh, come on now," Sirius said, glaring at her. "It's our treat, we took you here. There's no way we're letting you pay. Now come on."

They ordered their ice cream and took it outside, where the heat was delightfully relentless, sending a cascade of sticky ice cream dripping down the side of Sirius's hand. He licked it off, looking over at Remus, who was eating his ice cream out of a bowl and thumbing at the corner of his book. The sun only made the ice cream taste better, a wonderful contrast between the heat of the day and the way it melted against his tongue, cool at first, sliding down the back of his throat.

“You know, there’s a swim meet this weekend," Remus said suddenly, looking over at Lily. "You two should come. It's kind of far away, but I could definitely drive you there, I have plenty of room in my car.

"Oh for sure!" James said excitedly, looking over towards Lily, who was blushing and frowning at Remus in a way that made it look like she’d be yelling as soon as they got a moment alone.

"You don't have to come," she said, but Remus just smiled innocently back at her. She wasn't having any of it. "That's ridiculous. It's long and boring, besides, I'm only in two events."

"You should come," Remus said again, not breaking eye contact with Lily. "You don't have to stay the whole time, but you should come watch her swim, she's really good. Besides, I need someone else to keep me company. I don't want to sit there on my own the whole time, I get bored way too easily."

"Well, that makes two of you," James said, looking between Sirius and Remus. "We'll definitely be there, wouldn't want to miss it."

Lily looked disgruntled but beneath that, she also looked slightly pleased.

* * *

The day of the swim meet was much like the rest of the summer — ridiculously hot and seemingly determined to beat them down. The car itself was pleasantly cool, air conditioning blowing right into Sirius's face where he was sitting shotgun next to Remus.

"Doesn't that annoy you?" Remus asked, glancing over at him out of the corner of his eyes.

"Doesn't what annoy me?"

"Your hair, it's blowing all in your eyes. How do you even see like that?"

Sirius laughed, looking back at James, who was yawning and rubbing at his own eyes. They'd had to wake up earlier than usual, something that ordinarily James would never agree with, but it appeared that Lily was a special case because he'd managed to get up and out of bed before even Sirius, who had spent the night.

Sirius enjoyed spending the nights with James, because although he hated imposing, James didn't have a care in the world for what he did. They'd stayed up far too late dancing to ridiculous music and forgetting about the world for a time, letting the music swamp their senses instead and take them away from everything they'd ever worried about.

And maybe James also spent an hour or so ranting about how Lily was his soulmate and he was going to ask her out today. But that was definitely not true, because as much as James liked to pretend he was confident, on the inside he wasn't always that secure. Especially when it came to things he really cared about.

"Nah, it doesn't bother him, the ponce," James yelled up from the back. "He likes it. He thinks it makes him look good."

"Excuse me!" Sirius yelled back, "It does look good, thank you very much! I would look ridiculous with short hair. Besides, my mother would love it, and we can't have that."

He looked back to Remus who was smiling in a way that he would almost consider fond.

"Well, what do you say?" Sirius asked, flipping his hair over his shoulder and batting his eyelashes, "Does it look good or not? You're the deciding vote here, so you'd better make it count."

"Yeah, whatever," Remus said, looking away from him.

"Yeah as in yes, it does look good?"

"Mmmhmm," Remus said distractedly, and Sirius shot a triumphant grin back at James.

"Did you hear that James? Did you hear what he said?"

"Hey Sirius?" James asked, staring up at him in the mirror.

"Yeah?"

"Could you shut up? I'm going to sleep, and it would be really nice if you weren't waking me up every few seconds because you think you look good with your hair blowing in your face like an idiot.”

Sirius sighed and turned back up front. Sure enough, a few minutes later James appeared to have drifted off, his eyes closed and his head lolled against the window of the cars.

"How does he fall asleep like that?" Remus asked, yawning himself. The car felt strangely enclosed now that James was asleep, like it was just him and Remus, although he wasn't sure why that was something that would make him feel closed in. Remus looked sleepy and vulnerable this early in the morning, letting out another huge yawn and looking over at Sirius momentarily. "What?"

"What what?" Sirius asked, yawning too.

"I dunno, you were staring at me," Remus said. He was still facing forwards, but somehow it felt like he was looking directly at Sirius, who couldn't think of an answer fast enough, because every possible answer felt more incriminating than he was willing to deal with. After all, he had only been looking at Remus because...his own thoughts trailed off, as though they weren't willing to fill in the answer that was pushing at him, or maybe because that was something he couldn't accept just yet.

Or ever.

"Was I?" Sirius asked vaguely, a non-answer to the question, looking out his own window. The outside world looked normal through the glass — not distorted or wrong — but he didn't like having the glass separating him. He felt trapped in, and the world felt fake.

"Can you roll the windows down and turn the air conditioning off? If that's okay with you, of course, I just really hate having the windows closed."

"Yeah, okay," Remus said, and he rolled the windows down. Sirius stuck his head out the window and closed his eyes, feeling the wind batter his face and relishing the way the air felt cold and clear when they were moving this fast, even though the temperature outside was probably steadily climbing to the point where the swim meet would be miserable.

He chanced a glance at Remus, who was still staring forwards. His curls flopped in the wind, bouncing endearingly, and Sirius forced his gaze away. He forced himself to look back out the window, to let his hair whip around his face. He stuck his hand out, feeling the magnetic push of the wind against it, and he pushed back, imagining it was something solid instead of invisible.

Invisible, like him. A force that was always moving but one that somehow was missed by everybody, because he was practically invisible.

He glanced over at Remus again because he couldn't help himself, and Remus had a faint smile on his face. Remus's smiles were just like Fortescue's — they caught and made it so you couldn't help but smile, so that you really didn't have a choice to be happy, not that Sirius minded it. And somehow — Sirius wasn't entirely sure how this was possible, and he was mildly convinced it was all imagination — somehow Remus's eyes matched the wind. The colors seemed to swim when he looked close enough, even though it felt dangerous to look close, like Remus could feel him watching.

Like he’d end up up doing something stupid.

It wasn't long before they reached the location of the swim meet, James still asleep, glasses askew and hair even messier than usual. Remus glanced back at him in amusement and then over at Sirius.

"Not a morning person, then?"

"Nah. Unless it's for Lily."

"He really fancies Lily, then?" Remus asked curiously, still looking at him. He turned a tiny bit in his sleep, reacting to a phantom force that had him in its clutches.

"Yeah," Sirius laughed. "Won't stop talking about her."

"Well, good luck to him, because she's pretty selective."

"Like you?" Sirius asked, amused, mind flashing back to the fleeting conversation they'd had on the bench just outside of the park.

"I guess so," Remus admitted. He climbed out of the car, running a hand through his hair, and Sirius swallowed. He looked away. Even though they were out of the car, Remus was taking up too much space. In his head, in his vision, Remus seemed to be everywhere he looked.

He wasn't sure if he appreciated it or not, but there was something about Remus that filled spaces up. Maybe it was the permanent glow of his eyes, maybe something else, but it made it impossible to look away.

"We should probably wake him up," Remus said. "You know." Sirius nodded and turned to rouse James, who grumbled at the interruption.

With what looked like great restraint, Remus left his book in the car, and Sirius looked at him with one eyebrow raised in surprise.

"You aren't bringing that?" he asked, nodding towards the book, and Remus grimaced, looking towards it longingly like it was the one thing he wanted in the world.

"No, we're here to support Lily," he said finally. He glanced back towards it one more time and then with great force of will he walked away.

When they walked into the swim area, there were people milling everywhere — green and silver, yellow and black, bronze and blue, red and gold.

"I'm going to look for Lily," Remus said with a yawn. Lily had driven down with her team instead of with Remus. She still didn't know that James and Sirius had insisted on coming. "I'll be back in a minute.” He wound his way through the crowd, and Sirius was left to look after an exceptionally tired James Potter, who yawned again and looked around the pool.

Tensions already felt high, even though the hour of the morning was ridiculous. It was like the meet had already started, like people were already diving through the water in a frantic race. But everyone was still. Standing. Playing with swim caps, braiding hair, tugging at goggles or the edges of swimsuits. Everyone was standing close by.

Sirius waited about five minutes before Remus still hadn't returned, and then he broke. He didn't have patience at the best of times, especially not when he had no idea what was happening around him.

"I'm going to look for Remus," he said finally, looking over to James. "Want to come with?" James snorted and shook his head.

"No, you go. I'm just gonna sit down here and take a nap..." He sank to the ground, eyes fluttering closed as he did so, letting out another yawn that squinted his eyes even more tightly closed.

"Right," Sirius said, rolling his own eyes on reflex and turning so he could look for Remus. He walked down the hallway, spying a door slightly ajar down towards the end. He approached it slowly, but he couldn't see anybody inside, so he opened it cautiously. And then jumped back in shock.

"I'm so sorry!" he gasped out when one of the girls turned around. "I didn't mean — shit, I didn't know you were in here!"

Dorcas just laughed and beckoned him into the room. "No worries," she said. "We're just getting ready for the swim meet."

Sirius walked slowly into the room, feeling supremely awkward. "So..." he looked between the two of them, from Dorcas to Marlene and back again. "You're...?" He left off both the words as questions, not wanting to assume anything wrongly, because that seemed exactly like the kind of thing he'd end up doing on accident. But Dorcas laughed it off — her hand was still intertwined with Marlene's, and Marlene was smiling softly at her, watching her out of the corner of one eye.

"Yeah," Dorcas said with a laugh. "We're together."

"Right," Sirius said, clearing his throat. "Cool. I won't tell anyone."

Dorcas just stared back at him with polite confusion, and Marlene tilted her head to the side slightly, considering him carefully. "You can tell people," she said slowly. "Most people know. We aren't hiding it."

"Oh!" Sirius said, startled, confused. "You aren't? But then... why?" He let the last word trail off, because it wasn't intended for Dorcas or Marlene. Instead he wanted to find Remus more than ever. Remus who had insisted that Dorcas and Marlene were friends. Now that he thought back on the moment, he remembered Remus cutting Dorcas off, remembered a strange look and an awkward silence. Remus had lied to him, and he had no idea why.

"What?" Marlene asked, frowning at him, still overtly polite, even though Sirius must have been staring in his moment of feeling lost.

“I… nothing, sorry," he said, laughing jerkily and brushing it off. "It's nothing."

"Okay," Marlene said slowly. "That's great."

"I — sorry," Sirius said again, feeling thrown off, unable to stop thinking about the fact that Remus had lied to him, and still wanting to know more than anything why. He'd thought everything was good. Why was it that every time he thought things were okay, there was another layer to unpack, another depth to Remus that he'd kept hidden away? Although that was his personality, wasn't it? Selective, careful, hiding behind other worlds that were written on papers and entirely intangible. That was just Remus, secretive, unreadable, confusing to everybody but himself.

"Good luck at the meet!" he said finally, feeling awkward and floundering.

He backed quickly out of the room, tripping on the back of his shoe and closing the door faster than was probably necessary, but at least he was out. He let out a breath of relief and annoyance, and he spun quickly around, as though he might see Remus walking out of a room with perfect timing to see him. But Remus was still nowhere to be seen. He trudged back out to the main pool area where he found the two of them, turning to look for him.

Finally their eyes made contact, and Remus lifted one arm to signal to him, sweater slipping down around his wrist as he did so. Sirius waved back, forcing a smile onto his face that didn't even feel genuine, let alone look it. He walked over to them, feeling weirdly quiet and at a loss for words at once. Feeling almost like he'd made a mistake with forgiving Remus, like maybe there would never be an end to the lies and secrets. Feeling wary, most of all, and thrown off balance. He took a deep breath and smiled at Lily instead.

"Hey," he greeted her. "How are things going?"

"Fine, fine," she said, shaking her hands out and smiling at him. "I don't even get nervous anymore. I only got nervous when this buffoon was still swimming, because he would shut himself in an empty room and not come out until his event started. It drove McGonagall nuts." She grinned sloppily at Remus — it came easy for her — but Remus's smile came back forced and insincere, not entirely unlike the one Sirius had worn only moments before.

"You'll be great," James insisted, finally awake and more alert than he'd been the entire time. "If you swim like you do at practice, you've got nothing at all to worry about."

When Lily had finally floated off to stand with the rest of her team, James lingering beside her, only Remus and Sirius were left standing side by side. Sirius couldn't bring himself to strike up a conversation, at least not at the moment. He felt like he was out of words. Remus glanced at him.

"You okay?" he asked, and Sirius nodded absentmindedly, not meeting Remus's eyes and too tired to respond with words, because that would require opening his mouth, something he wasn't yet prepared to do. There was a long pause, the splashing of pool water and echo of the indoors flowing over them.

"You sure?" Remus asked, squinting over at him. "You don't look okay."

"I..." Sirius trailed off. Then he turned so he was entirely facing Remus, and frowned. "Why did you tell me Marlene and Dorcas were just friends?"

"What?" Remus asked, and his jaw twitched slightly. His fingers tapped against each other, like he was looking for a book to ruffle the pages, but there was nothing there for him. He looked down at the ground of the pool, sneaker squeaking against the remains of a puddle of water, and didn't look back up — head bowed like he was mourning for something. Hiding again.

"You know what I'm talking about," Sirius insisted, keeping his voice down so they wouldn't attract any undue attention, because that was the last thing he wanted to do in this situation. "You told me at the pool that Marlene and Dorcas were just friends, but they're actually dating. I walked in on them kissing in one of the rooms back there. Why would you lie about that?"

“I…” Remus looked at him helplessly, before his hands discovered the hem of his jumper and started toying with that, rolling it over and staring intently at it like it was something that he'd never seen before. Sirius clenched his fists at his side, letting his fingernails dig into his skin and thinking that it wasn't hard enough, that he wanted his bones to snap and release some of the adrenaline that had been building up inside him. "I..." he trailed off again. He toyed with the hem more.

"Look, just tell me," Sirius cut in finally. "Stop unraveling your jumper and tell me, okay? I just want to know."

"I told you right after I learned you were a Black," Remus muttered. He stared down at his toes. "I thought...well, you know. Your family is homophobic, and I wanted Marls and Dorcas to be safe. I didn’t want to take any risks, you know. I’m sorry.”

Sirius looked away, biting down on an angry retort. This was the second time — first James and now Remus. Why did people think he was homophobic? Did he seem like that terrible of a person?

“I’m sorry,” Remus said again, still picking at the bottom of his jumper and tugging on a thread that had slipped loose.

"I know," Sirius said, because he did. "For the record, I'm not homophobic." He wasn’t looking at Remus anymore, staring at the pool instead, because that was a lot less confusing, even though thoughts of the pool now seemed to be intertwined with thoughts of Remus.

“Well, that's lucky for me," Remus said with a faint smile, a smile so soft that it almost seemed like a peace offering. Sirius looked over, wanting to accept it. He didn’t feel like this was something he should be mad at Remus over. After all, it was tied to the whole Black heritage debacle.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, feeling like he was missing something, He turned back to face Remus. Remus’s eyes looked golden-blue today, reflecting the pool, but their same shocking exactness.

“I wouldn’t want you to be scared of me,” Remus laughed quietly. He seemed so calm, but his hands were moving double-time now, tugging at the thread in earnest and toeing the tile again. Sirius could pick out the frantic squeaks.

And his brain felt like it was lead again, uncertain if he was hearing things and inferring things that weren’t meant to be there.

"You're…?” Sirius stared at him for a second without continuing, trying to respond — to process — but he was pretty sure his brain had short circuited.

Remus looked supremely amused, despite the unnerving tug at the threads of his sweater. “Yeah,” he said, and Sirius could hear the smile even in his voice, despite the tremor deeper down. “I’m gay, actually.”

Sirius didn’t know what to say to that. He thought his breath might have stopped in his throat, but he also refused to acknowledge that, because there was no reason for him to be anything more than politely surprised by that piece of information.

“That’s cool.” He could hear his voice as if from the outside, like he was watching himself on a video, and he sounded oddly strangled.

Remus looked put out by the tone of his voice, and he scrambled to remedy it, but Remus got to it first.

“Don't worry," Remus said, slightly sourly. "I'm not going to hit on you or something just because I'm gay."

"No, I wasn’t—“ Sirius said frantically trying to regain the composure that was so signature to the Black family, and then hating himself for even considering doing something that would be associated with his family. "That's not what...oh, for fuck’s sake, I can't talk. I don't have a problem with you being gay, I swear. It doesn’t change anything.”

He wondered if he was talking too much now, extremely glad that James wasn’t anywhere near, because he would doubtless poke fun at Sirius years later after hearing this conversation. Sirius swore to himself on the inside, looking desperately at Remus and wanting him to understand that he hadn’t meant to come across like he didn’t accept Remus.

“Okay,” Remus said hesitantly. “But if you do have a problem with it, tell me now.”

“I don’t,” Sirius said firmly. “I promise you, I don’t.”

“Okay,” Remus said finally. “Good.”

* * *

On the drive back, they all piled into the same car — Lily, James, Sirius and Remus. Lily had done incredibly well in all her events, taking home two first place wins for the team, and she was in such a good mood that she blasted music the entire time on the way home.

"Good job," James kept telling her over and over, smiling in a way that made Sirius's stomach churn unpleasantly. He wasn't sure what to think about Lily, or the fact that James seemed genuinely smitten for the first time in forever. It wasn't as though James had never dated before, but he always seemed over them before he even started. This time though. This time felt different. Sirius wasn't sure if he liked it as much as he pretended.

"Thanks," Lily said, sounding only slightly annoyed. "Sirius, can you drop me off first if that's okay with you? My parents are rather strict about that kind of thing, and I wouldn't want to get in trouble.

"Okay," Sirius. He turned left off the street and tried not to be distracted by a bump in the side of the road and the slight noise of surprise that escaped Remus when they went over it. He glanced over — Remus was riding shotgun this time. He was staring out the window with a smile as well — not talking, but not reading either, with the book sitting untouched in his lap.

In the back James turned to Lily and looked like he was about to say something again, but Lily turned to him in exasperation before he could get out anything more than a word.

"Don't congratulate me again, please," she said, and she sounded only half-joking. James, put-out, turned away and looked out the window in that way that seemed like he was doing his best not to be hurt by her dismissal.

"Sorry," James said under his breath, and Sirius turned to face forward again, not in the mood for dealing with any more drama.

He'd had enough of that to last him a lifetime, what with his family and all the strange collisions he'd run into with Remus. He dropped Lily off and then pulled into Remus's driveway.

"Thanks," Remus said. He sounded off when he looked at his house, and when he got out of the car, his hand lingered on the handle like he wasn't yet sure if he wanted to leave. It slipped off slowly, and when he walked up the driveway, he glanced back reluctantly at Sirius once.

“’S he okay?" James asked, following his trailing feet with his eyes, and looking over to Sirius for confirmation.

"I'm not sure," Sirius said slowly. There was something about his reluctance that he recognized from his own time returning home, and he wondered slowly — slowly, because he was reluctant to come to conclusions without having evidence for them first — if Remus might be living in a similar situation to him. "I hope so."

They stayed on the driveway at Sirius's insistence, just to make sure Remus was okay.

Then, from inside the house came the sound of yelling — yelling that he couldn't quite make out. The words were indistinct, just a blur of sounds, if that was such a thing.

"Should we go in?" Sirius asked, concern lacing his voice. When he looked over, James’s gaze wasn't fixed on the house, it was fixed on Sirius, like he was the one who should give permission. Maybe because of Sirius's own family.

It didn't fit though, in Sirius's brain. It didn't make sense. Remus had leapt to judge him based on his family, but wouldn't he be more hesitant to do that if his own family was just as awful? He looked over at James.

"I don't know if it's a good idea," James said slowly, staring at the front door. It was completely still. "I don't think we should,” he continued, staring at the brick face of the wall. The yells had to be loud, he mused, for them to filter all the way through cold hard brick.

"Why not?"

"It's not our place," James said. “We might make it worse.”

"But I want to help," Sirius insisted. He jumped out of the car and started walking towards the front door, because he couldn't sit by while all that energy built up inside of him, while the yells were still loud enough to reach his ears.

"Remus Lupin!" came the yells, and there was silence following it — or perhaps the response was too quiet to be heard from where he was.

"I don't care what you were doing! You know you're not to leave the house unless you're —“ the yell cut off abruptly, and Sirius stared at the house with concern. What was he supposed to do with this?

"No! Absolutely not!"

Then, before Sirius could register what was happening, the front door crashed open, and Remus stomped out, a halo of anger, curly hair flying around him, eyes complete steel, giving away the storm that was evidently raging inside of him.

Sirius froze. Remus froze. They stared at each other.

"What are you doing?" Remus hissed, staring at Sirius and recoiling suddenly. "Why did you follow me?"

"I — I heard yelling," Sirius said meekly, not wanting to back down. But, never having seen Remus in such a mood before, he had no other choice. "I'm sorry." The last part was in a whisper, because that felt like that safest way at the moment.

"This is none of your business, do you understand?" Remus yelled, and his voice was even scarier when it was loud. "I don't know what you're doing here, or why you think you have any right, but you keep prying into things that have nothing to do with you whatsoever!"

Sirius was standing frozen in the driveway. He heard a car door shut behind him in the periphery of his hearing, but he didn't pay any attention to it, because he couldn't drag his gaze away from the glowing rage that was still reflected in Remus's vision.

"What do you mean?" he whispered. "I was just trying to help."

"First asking me about my foot a million times when I told you to leave it, then my jumper, now this? Will you ever learn?"

And then he was stalking off around the back of the house, and Sirius was left rooted to the spot, certain that his footprints would forever be stuck to Remus's driveway in those exact spots.

"Sirius," came a voice from behind him. It was James, comforting like he always was in times of need. Then there was a hand on his shoulder, clasping and leading him back to the car, firmly and gently at the same time. "Sirius, we're going back to my place, okay?"

Sirius didn't say anything. He couldn't because all of a sudden his eyes were stinging suspiciously, and there was a tingle just around the base of his nose, and all of a sudden it became just a little bit harder to swallow.

He let James help him into the car, staring numbly ahead and hating how vulnerable he felt. He wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to be a man — he was a Black heir, of all things. He wasn't supposed to cry because of a stupid argument with a boy he barely knew.

He wasn't supposed to cry at all.

"Hey," James said as they pulled out of the driveway. "Listen to me. It's okay."

Sirius nodded desperately, wanting the words to be as true as James made them sound, because that would make everything so much easier than it was.

"His mother was yelling about him not being allowed to leave the house, or something like that," he said quietly when his voice had come back, and James chanced a glance at him. "Was I wrong?" Sirius asked. "Was I wrong to go up?"

James hesitated, looked at him.

"I'm not sure," he said slowly, still staring out the front windshield like he was entirely focused on driving, even though Sirius knew he was probably trying to give himself time to think instead. "I don't think there's really a line," he continued, "But you might have overstepped his boundaries."

"I wanted to help," Sirius said quietly.

"I know."

"I always mess things up with him."

James shrugged and looked over at him. "A lot of misunderstandings," he said simply, turning onto his street. "Remus seems like a private person, so he might not want people delving into his personal business."

“He was running at the park,” Sirius said suddenly, because something had clicked in his brain as he remembered Remus chasing after Lily, jumper billowing out behind him with the wind. “I don’t think his foot is really hurt.”

James frowned and nodded slowly. “I think you should leave that alone. There’s obviously a reason, and he doesn’t seem to want people knowing.”

Sirius sighed.

"He's gay," he blurted out suddenly, unable to help himself. He looked resolutely out the window, avoiding James’s eyes. He could feel something tipping dangerously in his stomach.

"Okay," James said carefully, pulling into the driveway. "Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah," Sirius said. He fell quiet again, not sure what else to say.

"Okay," James said again. "Why are you telling me?"

Sirius swallowed and kept looking out the window, refusing to acknowledge the writhing inside of him.

"No reason," he said quickly, "I just remembered."

"Okay," James said, like a record stuck on repeat. He nodded once, paused, and then nodded again. "Cool." They walked into his house and trailed the familiar path up to his room. "Well, I'm most decidedly not gay, and I'm going to ask Lily out."

"Really?" Sirius asked sarcastically. "I hadn't heard yet."

And with that their conversation devolved into talk about Lily and other random trivia that randomly spurted from James's mind. All thoughts of Remus were driven from his mind.

Well, mostly all.

* * *

When he went to the pool the next day, Remus wasn't there. Lily was, talking happily with Marlene and Dorcas — it eased Sirius's mind slightly to see that she wasn't distressed. Perhaps nothing had happened, and Remus had just decided to stay home.

Or, he thought, maybe Remus was staying home because of him.

Worthless, his brain screamed at him. Worthless, worthless, worthless.

He ignored it angrily and walked over to Lily instead, in search of answers instead of jumping to conclusions that would only serve to rile him up further.

"Hey," he said when he walked over to her. "Is Remus here?"

"Oh, he's grounded today," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "Apparently he didn't tell his mother he was coming to my swim meet yesterday, and she had no idea where he was, so she kind of blew up."

"Oh," Sirius said, things clicking together. Maybe Remus's mother wasn't so bad after all. Maybe Remus just forgot to mention it, and then when his mother had yelled at him, it set his temper off.

Maybe he wouldn't be mad at Sirius after all. Relief flooded him, and he thanked Lily, smiling cheerfully at her. He spent the rest of the day trying not to keep looking over towards the chair where Remus usually sat, his hair curling in all directions and poking through the mesh backing of the chair. He tried not to think about the rage in his eyes the other day.

He tried not to think about how accustomed he'd grown to Remus's presence at the pool, sitting by the side and working his way through book after book, occasionally stopping to talk with Sirius. He tried not to think too hard about Remus — Remus, who was gay, although that didn't matter at all.

When the next day finally rolled around and Remus slumped back into his usual chair, Sirius sat down next to him. Remus was reading his book like always, and he didn't look up when Sirius approached him.

"Hey," Sirius said, expecting an answer — actually he wasn't sure what he was expecting — but he came up dry.

Remus pointedly flipped another page.

Sirius snapped. He grabbed the book out of Remus's hands and slammed it shut, ignoring the outraged noise of protest that he got in return.

"Give that back!" Remus said indignantly, and Sirius counted it as a win, because at least Remus wasn't ignoring him anymore.

Sirius put it on the table, out of reach from Remus.

"Absolutely not," he said, frowning. He was quaking inside. He could feel his hands trembling and he clasped them together tightly, his insides screaming at him that he was being a bother, that Remus had been looking for an excuse to get rid of him, that he was needy and horrible for trying to force his friendship on somebody else who clearly didn't want it.

"Excuse me?"

"Listen to me. You aren't ignoring me again. You remember how well that turned out last time, how we could have avoided the entire thing if we had just talked to each other like normal people do?"

Remus stared at him. Stared and stared, eyes giving nothing away, and Sirius wished expressions could speak as well as words.

"I'm sorry for listening a couple days ago. I heard yelling, and I was worried. I was worried, because I care about you, okay? I wanted to help. I'm sorry I overstepped, and I'll try not to do it again. Are you mad at me?"

Remus stared at him.

"Can I have my book back now?" he asked finally.

Sirius huffed and rolled hs eyes. With anybody else he would have considered that beyond rude, but he knew Remus didn't mean it like that. It was just his way. He handed the book over to Remus, presenting it with an unneccessary flourish, looking at him with anticipation and waiting for the verdict.

"Fine," Remus said. "I'm not mad. I'm frustrated."

"That's fair," Sirius said.

"We're friends," Remus said, "But I don't like sharing things with people, especially not people I've just met, okay? You're going to have to respect that. I don't talk to a lot of people."

"That sounds lonely," Sirius frowned, looking down at his knees, which were tanned from all his time spent working at the pool. He looked over at Remus, who was staring curiously back at him.

"Do you have any secrets that you've never told anybody?" Remus asked him evenly, his tone unscrutinable.

Sirius froze. He felt like Remus could see right through him, like he was gutting him with more than a look, like he could see the words scrawled on the inside of Sirius's body that he could  barely even admit to himself. He opened his mouth, gulping like a goldfish.

"Maybe," he said finally, looking away.

"Hmm," Remus said. "Sounds lonely."

Sirius laughed, hollow, ringing inside him as though there weren't a thousand words already crowding the space and forcing their way at his throat.

“Touché,” he admitted. “But yeah. Sometimes it is."

"Then why don't you tell anybody?"

"I just don't." Sirius answered on instinct with the words that were easily accessible, that could ward off any question, that he didn't have to think about before speaking. He wasn't sure the actual reason, and he didn't want to think about it any more than he had to, so he went with that.

"Okay," Remus said. He didn't pry. He didn't ask further. "Would you be annoyed if I kept asking about those secrets?"

Sirius hesitated and then looked over at him, and finally, finally understanding, he nodded.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't realize."

"I know," Remus smiled. "It's okay. But we both have our secrets, right? It's not wrong, it's just how it is, and I'd appreciate it if you left it like that."

"Right," Sirius said. "We're good then?"

"Yeah, we're good."

"What book is that?" Sirius asked, not wanting to linger on the conversation more than he had to. He felt vulnerable already without even being pressed, and all of a sudden he felt immensely guilty that he'd kept asking Remus so many questions. It really wasn't any of his business, and it never had been. He should have known better.

But then again, he really was hopeless.

Worthless, almost.

Even so, things felt okay just now, because Remus had forgiven him, and the coal was back and simmering where it belonged, right in his stomach. Everything felt okay, because Remus wasn’t mad, and Remus was smiling down at the book, and then he was off on another explanation that Sirius listened to with rapt attention.

Everything was okay.

* * *

That night, Sirius went back to his house. He’d been staying over with James for the last bit, ever since the attack on Marlene and Dorcas, something he was still in firm denial about. It was one thing for Bellatrix to be involved. He’d almost expected that from her. He stayed out of her way for the most part, because she was the kind of person who wouldn’t be tamed.

She’d taken after Sirius’s parents, to the degree where she attacked people for fun, to where she’d already been to a detention center and would probably end up in jail at some point or another.

And at least cousin Bellatrix was never at their home. She didn’t live with them. No, the Manor was just him and Regulus and their beloved parents, which Sirius thought might even be worse.

Sirius opened the door to their house, and it creaked on the hinges. Their home was a strange difference between pristine and traditional, old from the generations it had been handed down but perfectly in order from his mother’s meticulous upkeep. He walked through the hallway, feeling like he was walking through an initiation, like a long entrance to some kind of test.

Old members of the Black family stared down at him from either sides, eyes moving steadily back and forth in their portraits, taking him in and muttering to each other while shaking their heads.

Sirius already knew the gist of what they were saying — they saw him as a disgrace too, taken after other estranged members of the family like Andromeda, who had married someone they saw as unfit.

Sirius tried to go straight to his room. It wasn’t difficult at first. Walburga and Orion didn’t acknowledge his presence in the slightest. They didn’t seem to care at all that he hadn’t been home for a few days. He wasn’t even there.

The only person he wasn’t invisible to was Regulus, who accosted him on his way up the stairs.

“Sirius,” he said, perfectly civil, as though he’d never attacked Sirius’s friends.

That’s how it worked between them. Regulus did things that Sirius would never approve of, and then they brushed past it, because their relationship was as strange as Regulus himself. Sirius still wasn’t sure why he looked past Regulus’s unforgivable behavior — the things he’d said to Marlene and Dorcas had been things that he wouldn’t have forgiven with anybody else. Maybe it was because they were brothers, maybe because Sirius had this tiny spot of hope in the back of his head that Regulus could still turn out alright. He wasn’t sure.

For some reason, he held Regulus to different standards than anybody else.

“Reg,” he said quietly. This time, he felt compelled to mention the altercation. “You attacked my friends and called them names.”

Regulus scoffed and looked away. “They had it coming.”

“They did nothing.”

Regulus didn’t respond to that. Instead, he shook his head and started to walk down the stairs past Sirius.

“If you keep doing this, I’m not going to be able to forgive you,” Sirius muttered at his back. He knew Regulus heard him, because they were close enough, but Regulus resolutely ignored him.

So Sirius climbed the stairs up to his room, collapsing on the bed and looking around at the walls, lined with pictures of girls in bikinis. He wasn’t sure why he’d put them there. At first, it had been to garner the anger of his parents, on one of those days when he craved even anger to get rid of being ignored. Now, though, it was almost ironic, for reasons he didn’t want to face.

Sirius closed his eyes and imagined he could see the sky through his eyelids, stars shining above him and showing through the ceiling. He stayed there for a long time, staring up at the sky he’d painted on the backs of his eyelids, imagining that he was outside and away from this place where he forgave people he shouldn’t and away from this place where he barely understood himself.

* * *

Thing seemed to go back to their relative normal after that — Sirius's family continued to ignore him, he spent most of his time with Remus and Lily and James, and the pool became something of a home for him.

The weather was relentless this summer, the sun beating down on them day after day. Sirius did his best to keep out of the sun — at least that was his excuse to talk with Remus most days, because he couldn't help but want to talk with Remus all the time. He refused to acknowledge anything he might be feeling, because there was a line. Anything over that line was too far, and something he really didn't intend to get into.

They were sitting, discussing one of Remus's books one day, when McGonagall approached, eyes narrowed as she studied Remus's foot.

"Mr. Lupin," she said, frowning at him. Remus tensed up completely, and Sirius sensed that was his cue to leave, so he stood quickly and hurried away, not wanting to interfere. Not wanting to get in the way of things Remus didn't want to talk about.

But even from a distance, her voice was crisp enough that it reached his ears as easily as anything, distracting him momentarily from the heat.

"Coach McGonagall," he said politely, "How can I help you?"

"I talked to your mother," she said with a frown. "I was merely inquiring about when your foot would be well enough to rejoin the team, and she said she didn't know you were injured in the first place. Is there a reason for that?"

Remus looked frozen in place, and Sirius's hands twitched at his sides. He wanted to move, but he couldn't — he was rooted to the spot, watching as Remus fished for words that he couldn't seem to find, no matter how hard he tried.

"I..." Remus trailed off, shaking his head at her and looking lost.

"What exactly happened to your foot?" she asked, looking down at the suspicious lack of an injury.

"I'm not sure," Remus said vaguely, "But I can't swim with it."

"Mr. Lupin," she said strictly. "If you don't want to swim, that's your choice, but faking an injury to get out of it doesn't make any sense. Now did you, or did you not hurt your foot?"

"I did," Remus insisted, drawing back and glaring at her. "And I'd prefer if you'd stop questioning me, if you wouldn't mind."

Now McGonagall was the one to look taken aback, and her eyebrows raised in disbelief at Remus's words.

"I apologize," she said, and with a stiff nod towards him, she started to back away. "If you ever wish to talk with me, my door is open."

"I'll keep that in mind," Remus said equally stiffly, matching her mannerisms nod for nod. He leaned back in his chair and thumbed at the corner of his book again, looking too distressed to open it. Sirius felt responsible, even though he wasn't in the slightest, and he decided it was his duty to remedy whatever had gone wrong.

"Right," he said, walking over and collapsing into the chair next to Remus. "I'm not going to ask what that was about, because you don't want to talk about it. Is that right?"

Remus looked at him in surprise, and there was finally a distinguishable emotion on his face. He looked grateful.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Thanks."

"What's that book about?" he asked Remus, nodding towards the one thing that he knew for sure would help distract him from whatever was going on with his foot. He couldn't help the curiosity swimming inside of him, but he was determined not to overstep like he had last time, because the last thing he wanted to do was lose the friendship — something he'd yearned for for a long time.

Remus smiled at him, a look that said, 'I know what you're doing,' but he started talking nonetheless, laying out details of his book.

Sirius couldn't help himself from taking in Remus. There was something about Remus that nobody else he'd ever met had. James was different — James was comfortable and warm, somebody who had always been there and who would continue to be there long into the future.

Remus, though. Remus was different. Remus had a strange glow in his eyes. He wrapped himself up and shielded himself from the world, he seemed to separate himself from other people.

Remus was hiding away, something Sirius understood, but he had partially invited Sirius into his life. Not deep — Sirius wasn't entirely sure that was possible, but he'd let Sirius in slightly.

Remus was funny. He was quiet, he observed, he watched. He was passionate, he was exciting. Sirius thought he could talk to Remus for hours. He thought he could tell Remus secrets and Remus wouldn't mind.

There was something about him — something beyond just the curl of his hair and the pure golden in his eyes, behind the long lines that made up his figure and the easy planes of his body — so sharp and clean cut — that drew Sirius irrevocably in.

It was something that was growing, something that was getting harder to hide, even harder to hide from himself. But he couldn't acknowledge it, could he. He couldn't, because acknowledging that would mean accepting something else that he wouldn't dare let out into the world.

But Remus made him almost want to do that. To let it out.

He was growing steadily weaker, and he wasn't sure what he would do when he broke.

Chapter Text

The next day when he came to the pool, there was a scowl etched into his expression. It was like a scar in the way it twisted down the side of his face, and his eyes joined in the anger that kept it so tilted away from a smile.

"Hey," Sirius said when Remus sat down in his usual chair. "Am I allowed to ask why you look like you're going to murder someone?"

Remus frowned, and tossed a grimace towards Sirius. "My mother," he pronounced the word with an angry emphasis. "My mother wants me to start swimming again."

"Hmm," Sirius said thoughtfully. "And you don't want to."

"No," Remus said shortly. His hand was clenched tight against the book, fingers white, and he looked more distressed than Sirius had seen in a long time.

"Then tell your mother no."

Remus sighed and looked away. He didn't respond to that, and Sirius did his best not to push.

* * *

They were at the park again that afternoon — James had declared the park as his secret to success in wooing Lily. His plan was to take her to the park enough times that she really couldn’t possibly turn him down.

They were sitting on the bench together — they naturally split up like this when they reached the park, because James had managed to draw Lily into a tour of the playground, something that he said she wouldn't want to miss. So now it was the two of them side by side, sitting in the way that Sirius was finding it harder and harder to do while still breathing normally and keeping his stomach from twisting into itself.

“Is there anything you can give me?” he asked suddenly, looking over at Remus. “I’m sorry.” He hadn’t meant to say it, it just slipped out of him without permission. But perhaps it was for the best, because he had to say it, even though he’d promised he wouldn’t. “I care about you though. As a — because you’re — you’re my friend,” he remedied suddenly, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands. “You’re my friend, I care about you, and I worry about you, okay?”

“What are you asking for?” Remus asked, eyes narrowed.

“I’m worried,” Sirius said with a sigh. “Your foot and all, I’m worried about you. Can you just — are you in danger or anything?”

Remus sighed and looked down at the ground. Sirius pulled his legs up to his chest and held them close to his body, a shield from the world.

“I’m not in danger,” he said finally. “It’s — the whole jumper thing and not being able to swim and my foot, I don’t want to talk about it, but I’m perfectly safe.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. “That’s all I need.” And he realized when he said it that he was really telling the truth, that all he’d needed to know was that Remus was safe. That Remus, with his stupidly gold eyes and curly hair and books, wouldn’t be getting hurt.

“What about you?” Remus asked, drawing his gaze up from the bench along the grain of the wood, meeting Sirius’s eyes slowly. “You said you had secrets too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, trying not to think about the secrets that he couldn’t even say to himself. All it would take was a word, one word that was right there. A word he’d heard said, a word, one stupid word that had somehow managed to defeat him that easily. He almost considered blurting it out — saying it, letting it seep into the open, but even as the thought crossed his mind, he shut it back down.

The problem was, he wasn’t even confused. He knew. He knew the word, he knew what he was, but he could never admit it. He knew it was true, but he couldn’t admit it. He could never do that. He could never just let himself be.

“Well, are you in danger?” Remus asked simply. “I know your family is horrible. Are you safe?”

“As safe as I can be,” Sirius assured him with a nod of assent. “Yeah. I’m safe.”

“Okay,” Remus smiled. “I’m glad.”

“Me too.”

They sat there side by side, not talking too much, but they didn’t seem to need words at the moment. They were fine how they were. Sitting, with an inch of space between them that Sirius thanked the gods for, because he wouldn’t have been able to stand it otherwise.

* * *

“I’m asking out Lily today,” James said suddenly as they were sitting on the ground next to each other. “I’m going to ask her out.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, looking over at him. “You’re actually going to ask her out?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, she’d be lucky to have you,” Sirius said, and he smiled over at James in a way that he hoped was reassuring. “She really would be, James. Believe it or not, I think you’d be good together.”

“Yeah?” James asked. “I hope so. I like her. A lot. She’s — she’s special, Sirius, she really is.”

“James,” Sirius said suddenly, because thinking about Lily — thinking about James and Lily together, thinking about — he couldn’t stop himself.

It was the word again, running through his mind, the word, the word.

“James?”

“Yeah?” James said slowly after a pause, the word crawling out of him. He turned to look at Sirius, seeming to sense the urgency in his voice. Sirius was bouncing his leg frantically and staring at the ground. He couldn’t do anything — his jaw felt locked in place — and even when he could move it, he couldn’t make a sound. “What?”

“There’s…” he could speak around it, of course he could. He could run in circles and say random words that he didn’t even understand, he could spit out sentences, he could weave his way. But he couldn’t do what he so desperately wanted to do. He couldn’t say it. “There’s something.”

“Okay,” James said hesitantly. “Sirius, you’re scaring me here.” He walked over to take a seat next to Sirius on the bed, close enough that there knees were touching. “What’s going on?”

“I have to — to tell you something.”

“You know you can tell me anything, Sirius. You can always talk to me, and I’m not going to judge. Did something happen?”

“No,” Sirius shook his head violently, He couldn’t do it. He wanted to so badly, but he was weak. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be brave like Remus, he couldn’t, could he. He tried again. He opened his mouth and looked at James, and then he closed it again. He took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands, shaking his head and trying not to let any tears sneak out from under his eyelids. Unshed, they were burning, and they made his eyes sting horribly.

“Sirius,” James said gently, “Talk to me.”

“I can’t,” Sirius whispered. “I can’t say it.” He shook his head, he kept shaking his head, that was all he could seem to do. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” James said, taking charge like he always did so well when something was wrong. “You’re going to breathe, you’re going to sit up, and we’re going to get you to bed. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, his voice cracking and uncertain. “Okay.”

He sat up, walking over to grab clothes from James’s dresser, because that was something he always did when he slept over with James.

“Would it be easier if you wrote it down?” James asked, and Sirius looked over to find him watching Sirius with a concerned expression. “That way you wouldn’t have to say it out loud, it might make things easier. If you want to, of course. Only if you’re comfortable. I’m not going to force you to say anything you don’t want to say.”

“I don’t think I can,” Sirius said, and his voice felt hoarse, as though he’d been crying for hours. He took another breath of air, almost forgetting that he needed air to live. It didn’t feel necessary now, although everything was feeling unnecessary and too overwhelming for him at the moment. He squeezed his eyes closed, and he thought about Remus, how Remus had said it so easily, like it wasn’t a big deal.

How James had accepted the fact that Remus was gay, not bothered in the slightest.

“I have to tell you,” Sirius said, squeezing his eyes closed and clenching his fists.

“Is it about your family?” James asked hesitantly, and Sirius shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed tighter. He took a deep breath, drawing in far more air than he needed, and drawing power from the swollen sting it gave to his lungs, like a jolt of adrenaline. He held it for a second and then let the air out. He looked at James.

“I’m going to tell you,” he said finally. He had to be brave. He could do this, of course he could. He could say it.

Remus had done it. He could do it.

He pressed his palms tight over his ears and kept his eyes closed. He opened his mouth. All he had to do was say the words, it would be that simple. That’s all.

“I’m gay.” The words burst out of them, clawing their way from him. He froze when they were gone, feeling so incredibly vulnerable that he wanted to sew his mouth shut, to force the words back down where they belonged. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He couldn’t take it back, but he desperately wanted to. He wanted to curl away. He wanted to shut himself in a dark room and purge the words from the world.

“Oh, Sirius.” Then there were warm arms encompassing him, holding him so tightly, and things didn’t feel okay but the arms made them feel tolerable.

He couldn’t say anything else, because those two words had taken all of his energy, had taken all the words out of his mouth. He felt scoured, like his insides had been scrubbed out with wire. He felt like he couldn’t speak for the rest of his life, so he just relaxed into James’s arms and let the tears flow down his cheeks. Everything he’d been trying to hold back had fallen apart now.

He couldn’t even express how grateful he was that James was hugging him, that he wasn’t too afraid now that he knew Sirius was gay. There was something about James that could silence all the horrible thoughts in his head and make everything feel completely brand new.

“It’s okay, Sirius,” James whispered, when Sirius finally extracted himself and collapsed back onto the bed. “It’s okay, you hear me? It’s all going to be okay.”

Sirius dragged a hand across his face, catching the trails that tear tracks had left running down his visage.*

“You know it doesn’t make a difference to me, right?” James said earnestly. “I love you all the same. And I’m proud of you, you know.” He smiled at Sirius, his own eyes glistening with something like tears — James barely ever cried. “It’s okay Sirius.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said, voice cracking and not caring in the slightest. “I love you too.”

Then they sat there in the quiet, Sirius regaining his ability to breathe easily.

“How long have you known?” James asked finally, when Sirius had pulled himself together. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping that in for so long. I would have exploded way sooner.”

“For…most of my life,” Sirius admitted quietly. “I never said anything because of my family obviously, and. Well. You know I hate them. It’s so stupid, because usually I would do things to piss them off, but this time I almost believed the things they said, you know? It felt too personal. I don’t know.”

“Well, for the record, they’re all going to hell and they have no clue what they’re talking about,” James said firmly. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay. Never.”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” James smiled, “I’m glad you told me. Now I can set you up with people.”

“James!” Sirius scolded, although he could feel a smile playing around his mouth, threatening to burst forward. “Absolutely not. You don’t even know any blokes who are gay.”

“Oh, I know one person,” James said mischievously, scratching at his hair, running a hand through it.

“Who?” Sirius asked, scanning through all the possible people, unable to come up with who it might be. They didn’t know many people.

“Remus,” James said with a half-smile, studying Sirius’s face.

“Re—what?” Sirius spluttered, jaw dropping. “Absolutely not! James, for fuck’s sake, no.”

“Oh, come on, he’s cute. Even I can see that. Besides, you two talk all the time.”

“James.”

“Fine, fine,” James said with a sigh. “Are you going to tell him, by the way? Or is this a secret for now? Either way works, I just don’t want to out you or anything.”

“Secret,” Sirius said quickly. “For now.”

“Okay,” James nodded easily. “Cool.”

Sirius felt as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like he was free to move and walk. It was a weight he hadn’t known was there until it was gone, something that he’d gotten so used to that it didn’t matter until it did.

He knew it was probably due to Remus that he’d broken down and told James. It was something he’d wanted to do for such a long time, something he hadn’t even bothered to admit to himself. But now it was there, and now it wasn’t as heavy as it used to be. He felt like floating instead of walking, because that was something he could do now.

* * *

“Hey,” he said to Remus, unable to help the smile that broke over his face. Everything felt light and it was a grey day again, his favorite kind, where the clouds hung in a question.

“Hey,” Remus said back with a tentative smile. His smiles always started out that way, as though he wasn’t sure whether his smile would be welcomed or not. “You seem happy.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. He didn’t bother to explain further because that was something he wasn’t yet ready to do.

“Okay,” Remus said with a laugh. “I’m glad.”

“I’m writing a book,” Remus continued after a long pause.  “I just started it, and I’m going to try to get it published.” He said it all in one big rush, like it was something he didn’t want anybody to know, but he was saying it anyways.

“What?” Sirius asked, turning to Remus with wide eyes. “Really? Remus, that’s awesome! I’m sure it’ll be great! What’s it about?”

“I’m not really sure yet,” Remus said, looking down. “Actually, that’s a lie, I… for some reason I hate talking about my writing.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. “But you know, I’d love to read it if you ever wanted me to. I could tell you what I think.”

“Thanks,” Remus said with a smile. “Also I — I haven’t really told anybody about it yet, so if you could keep it kind of quiet…”

Sirius grinned. “Of course,” he said quietly. “Do you want to go to the park afterwards? Maybe you can give me some vague hints.”

So that’s what they did — Sirius only realized later on that it was just going to be the two of them, something that made his stomach do loops and his breathing come just a tiny bit harder. It spun inside of him when he realized that it almost felt like a date.

“Do you miss swimming?” Sirius asked when they reached the park. They sat on their bench like usual — it felt like their bench now, dappled with sunlight from underneath the sloping branches that reached out for them, protecting them. “If that’s okay to ask.”

Remus considered the ground, pressing his lips tightly together and then scratching the back of his neck. He had a book sitting next to him on the bench, but he managed to refrain from reaching out for it, even when he was uncomfortable.

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “I wasn’t bad at it, and it was fun. But I can’t.”

“Are —” Sirius broke off, his voice as uneven as the sun, and then squinted over at Remus, unsure if it would come across badly. “Are you sure you can’t swim?”

Remus glared at him, and Sirius held up his hands in surrender, leaning back on the bench and feeling the cool press against him, relieving the pressure from standing all day long.

"I can't swim," Remus said firmly.

"Do you think you'll ever be able to tell me?" Sirius asked, unable to resist it again. He couldn't help his curiosity. He wanted to know, because he wanted Remus to be happy — and if swimming would do that for him, then Sirius wanted to help.

"I don't know," Remus frowned, and he looked away. His hands were pressed against the cool surface of the bench, tracing the outline of a shadow.

"Why? Do you think I'll judge you? Because I wouldn't."

"I know that," Remus said with a sigh, and he closed his eyes. Sirius took the time to study him. He looked tired, with small purplish rings under his eyes and a pallor to his skin that was scarily pale. "It's not easy."

"I know," Sirius said with a half laugh, thinking back to when he'd tried to tell James about himself. "But just in case you didn't know, you can tell me anything you want."

"Thanks," Remus said. "And the same goes for you. I mean, you said you had secrets too."

"I want to tell you," Sirius blurted out. "I think I want to. But I'm not ready yet." Remus tilted his head curiously at that, but he didn't push. He just nodded slowly, and then he smiled at Sirius in the way he simultaneously hated and loved, because it was so utterly charming that he wasn't sure how he was supposed to resist something like that. He sighed, he closed his eyes. "So. You're writing a book?"

"Yeah," Remus said. He blushed and looked away. "It's not very good."

“You’d say that even if it was,” Sirius laughed, waving it off. "Do you want to walk?"

"Where to?"

"Oh, I dunno, I don't want to sit still anymore," Sirius said, trying to stop the bouncing in his leg that was supposed to relieve energy, but that was really just making him more anxious than he had been before.

The proximity to Remus was intoxicatingly dangerous. He felt like every word was something he had to treasure, every smile from him, everything about him. He glanced over out of the corner of his eyes, and Remus was looking curiously at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You're strange too, you know," Remus said with a quiet laugh, and Sirius gestured around him with a sweeping hand towards the forest.

"Are you ready?"

They walked side by side, and Sirius felt strangely insignificant as he walked. Not because of Remus but because of the way the trees loomed over them, so tall, so important, so all encompassing. Their branches folded into a rooftop above them as they went, shielding them from the rest of the world, and looming into a place that they weren't able to touch. The plants grew in clumps around them, tangling together with each other and sprouting in the most unexpected of places.

Sirius realized suddenly how little he knew about the world, and he tried not to let it take him over. He tried not to let the overwhelming grandeur of the world steal him into its grasp. He was still a person. He still had a purpose in this world. He was still alive, no matter how majestic the trees might be.

"This is nice," Remus said quietly, looking around at the foliage that curled out from underneath the rocks and small crevices in the forest.

"Yeah," Sirius whispered. Whispering felt like the most appropriate tone to take in this place crowded with species that he had no right to claim any knowledge about. This was a world he couldn't touch, one he wasn't supposed to touch. "It is."

They walked in silence side by side, close enough to brush, arms swinging between then so dangerously close that every movement made Sirius take a steadying breath, trying not to pay attention to the soft fabric of Remus's jumper that clung to him and brushed against his arm.

"So. What's your book about?"

"I don't know. I mean. I…” He looked away, kicking at a small pebble. It spiraled off the path inelegantly, bouncing somewhere deep into the underbrush.

"Okay. What's the genre, at least? Nonfiction? Fiction?"

"Fiction," Remus said, nodding confidently as though to himself. "It's easier to write the same thing I read. Besides, I like worldbuilding and all that."

"That's cool," Sirius smiled at him, and Remus returned it. He was definitely reading into things that weren't there because his vision was tinted by his feelings that had too much to do with Remus, but the smile felt more significant than usual, like it was something Remus had chosen to gift upon him. "Do you have a title yet?"

"No," Remus said. Then he stopped, squeezed his eyes closed, and corrected himself. "Yes. But I can't tell you."

"Okay," Sirius laughed, and he bent down to study a tiny flower that was sprouting on the side of the trail. It was almost translucent, the petals a silky color that felt like they reflected the direction of the path that continued on behind them. "By the way, I think you're wrong about what you were saying yesterday."

"What?" Remus asked, crossing his arms over his chest and looking towards Sirius. "I said a lot of things yesterday, believe it or not."

"Oh. Well. About keeping things in. Sometimes you don't even know how good it would feel to tell somebody something until you do it."

"Well, I think you were wrong about something too," Remus declared, and Sirius cocked an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"Fortescue doesn't have the best ice cream in town."

"Excuse me?" Sirius burst out, and he picked up a long stick from the ground and pointed it at Remus, holding it threateningly in one hand, like a spear poised to strike. "Say that one more time, why don't you?"

"Oh, put your stick down," Remus said with a laugh that felt more spontaneous than usual, less orchestrated, more genuine. Although, maybe once more, it was merely Sirius' perception.

"I will not put my battle weapon down," Sirius declared, and he hoisted it high above his head. Remus merely rose one eyebrow. He reached up above him — damn him for being so tall — and he easily snapped snapped the stick in half. Then he rose the other eyebrow at Sirius in a way that practically radiated amusement from every pore of his body.

"Well," Sirius coughed, looking at the meager half-broken branch he now held in his hand. "That was less effective than I'd hoped."

"Good. Now, do you want me to show you the ice cream place I was talking about?"

"I would love to see,” Sirius said reluctantly, staring up into the sky. The sun was fading, streaks of light already starting to cover the gloom that had dipped, "But I should probably go home — er, James’s. I told him I’d stay there tonight and he’ll worry if I’m late. Want to go tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Remus asked hopefully, smiling over at him, and Sirius nodded. "Awesome," he said, and he handed the other half of the stick over to Sirius. "I'll see you then."

When Sirius went over to James's house that night, James was waiting for him with an eyebrow raised.

"Where were you?" he asked, yawning and setting down the rubik’s cube he'd been toying with. He stretched out on his bed and turned up the music that was already pounding through the flat, loud and carefree, the kind that set all Sirius's problems off to the side. The kind that made Effie yell at him, no less.

"I was with Remus," he said. The yawn caught, and he lay down next to James. There was a pattering noise against the window, and he looked over to see a sheet of rain starting to fall, gracing the window with streaks of water that ran all the way down and pooled at the bottom.

"Remus?" James asked, not sounding surprised in the slightest, and Sirius glared at him.

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason. Where'd you go?"

"Just to the park," he said and he flopped back onto the bed and closed his eyes, letting the music take over his world like it did so effectively. "And we walked a ways into the woods."

"Sounds nice," James said nonchalantly.

"We're getting ice cream tomorrow," Sirius blurted out, throwing an arm over his eyes and trying to hide from the world. He glanced out of the corner of one eye to find James staring at him with a tiny smile, bobbing to the music making the bed squeak with every new note of the song.

"Are you now?" he asked.

"Not like that," Sirius said crossly, sitting up to glare at James. Then he froze. "At least I don't think so. He didn't mean it like that, did he?"

"How am I supposed to know?" James asked, "What exactly did he say to you?"

"I dunno, we were talking and then he said something about how I was wrong, and there was better ice cream somewhere else, and asked if I wanted to go with him tomorrow so he could show me."

James shrugged. "Probably a friend thing," he said. "I mean, that's something I would do, anyways. I ask you to get ice cream with me all the time."

"Yeah, you're right," Sirius said, nerves assuaged. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again. It was instant relief, although he'd always been slightly disconcerted by closing his eyes, because he could never seem to tell what direction he was looking in. It was all just black, in every direction, and it didn't matter where he looked, because the darkness consumed everything.

"Would you want it to be more?" James asked curiously, and Sirius glared at him again. He paused. He closed his eyes once more and let out a deep sigh.

"I don't know," he said finally, and James crowed with triumph, rolling over on his back and closing his eyes as well.

"I knew it!" he said, pumping one fist in the air and giving a huge yawn. "I told you, didn't I?"

"Shut up," he hissed. “I said I don’t know, not yes. Besides, it's not like I'm going to tell him."

"Why not? You two are close, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Are you serious?" he asked, slipping up in his moment of conviction, and having to forestall James's inevitable response with yet another glare, throwing in all the vitriol he could feel coursing through his veins. Now was not the time for a serious/Sirius joke. “Yeah, we're close. We're good friends, and he's pretty much the only person other than you who's my good friend. I'm not going to mess that up by telling him I may or may not fancy him, because I'm not willing to lose that, okay? If there's even the slightest chance that he would hate me..."

He trailed off, feeling needier than he had in a long time, and he heaved a sigh that came all the way from the bottom of his chest and filled him with a heaviness that he just had to get out of himself, that hadn't belonged with him in the first place.

"James, why am I like this?" he asked, wishing James would have an answer, but James just frowned at him.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You're fine how you are. Nobody would want to lose their friend."

"Yeah, but I need friends. I'm too overbearing, and I'm too much to handle, and Remus is the opposite of that anyways. He likes to read books and sit by himself and not talk to many people. Why can't I be more like that?"

"Sirius," James said, in that tone that said he was about to scold Sirius. "Don't be ridiculous. You're perfectly wonderful how you are, understand? There's nothing wrong with it. If Remus has a problem, he'd tell you."

"I don't know if he would," Sirius said miserably, staring at the ground. "He doesn't say much about his emotions."

“Sirius,” James said, enunciating each word carefully. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and that’s the end of it.”

* * *

The next day dawned as hot as the rest of the summer had been, almost insufferably so. Sirius donned a short sleeved shirt with apprehension, trying to will away the sunlight from his windows and leave the dirt-streaked glass to reflect the dark that would be cool against his skin.

But then he remembered what day it was, and suddenly the weather was a little bit less important than it had been a moment before. In fact, the heat was almost a bonus, the perfect temperature for ice cream. He got to the pool slightly earlier than usual, unable to help himself, his nerves already ticking away at his insides and flooding him with the desire to just move. So that's what he did. He walked around the pool, careful not to slip on the puddles of water, already feeling the walls of heat that crashed around him in waves.

Except Remus didn’t show up. The minutes ticked away, marked by the slow moving hand on his watch, and with every pounding second his heart seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. He glared at his watch — he wanted it to mark the time that Remus would come walking into the pool alongside Lily.

But when she finally came, Remus wasn’t there.

Sirius ran over to her hurriedly, concern lacing his every movement, wondering if something had happened. It probably hadn’t, he mused. It was probably just Remus realizing he’d never wanted to do anything with Sirius in the first place and finding a convenient way to back out of it.

“Is Remus okay?”

Lily turned around to find him standing there, probably looking more nervous than he’d wanted to show, but his nails were pulled to the quick from a few mere minutes.

“Hmm? Remus? Oh, Remus is fine.”

“Where is he?” Sirius asked, glancing around him as though maybe he’d missed Remus coming in — although that was ridiculous, because he was quite sure he’d never miss that.

“He’s coming. He was just picking up his boyfriend, I think he’s coming along today too.”

Sirius froze. Every part of him froze, from the top of his head down to the soles of his feet, and he tried to unlock himself before Lily saw something was amiss. He wished the sun would melt him, would unfreeze him from where he stood, because it seemed to be doing just fine at melting him whenever he least wanted.

“What?”

Lily frowned at him, not seeming to understand, and Sirius took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“Boyfriend?”

“Oh yeah, he didn’t mention?”

“I — no,” Sirius said quietly. He looked down at his feet. He tried not to think about what the word might mean. He tried not to think at all, because that was something that he felt like could get him into very big trouble quite soon.

“Oh, there he is!” Lily said, pointing over Sirius’s shoulder, and Sirius resisted the immediate urge to spin over and stare down Remus’s boyfriend until he had no other choice to run away.

There were a million insecurities swimming through his blood even though they had no place there. They were calling out to him. They were trying to take him over, to make him do whatever they wanted — to lead him.

He wouldn’t let it happen. He would keep his cool. He wouldn’t feel worthless.

He turned around slowly and walked over to Remus, trying to keep a smile on his face that didn’t seem forced or weirdly twisted in the way it felt. He wondered how smiling had ever seemed so natural — how hadn’t he thought about it every time he smiled, how hadn’t he crafted it? How had smiling seemed to easy?

“Hey,” he said, waving at Remus, letting his eyes flicker briefly over to the person standing next to him. They weren’t holding hands — Sirius thanked the gods for small mercies — but it set off alarm bells flooding through him nonetheless.

“Hey,” Remus said with a smile. “This is Caradoc, he just came back from vacation.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sirius said stiffly, ignoring the outstretched hand and easy smile that Caradoc was offering, because he couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t break Caradoc’s hand in his annoyance.

“You too,” Caradoc said with a slight frown. “You must be Sirius?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, taking a breath of whatever air he could get — Remus had mentioned him, that meant.

“Would it be okay if Caradoc came with us for ice cream?” Remus asked hopefully, and it sounded like he didn’t see anything amiss about the entire situation, and Sirius tried not to see anything either. This was okay, right? Everything was okay.

He looked over Caradoc’s shoulder to see James watching him with a look akin to pity, something that made him want to snap entirely. Pity was the last thing he needed at the moment — the last thing he ever needed, actually. Pity reminded him of how helpless and needy he was, reminded him of how worthless he was.

“Of course,” Sirius said through his teeth. Polite. Polite. He could be polite. He tried not to think about how invisible he was next to Caradoc, next to Remus’s perfect boyfriend.

“Great,” Remus said, shooting a strange look at Sirius that seemed like a mix between confusion and concern.

“I’ll be over there,” Sirius said, waving towards James carelessly, not even caring if Remus saw where he pointed.

It didn’t matter anyways. It didn’t matter. Remus had his boyfriend, so why would it matter? It was a ridiculous notion in the first place. Why would he ever think —

He cut his thoughts off and walked over to James, keeping his gaze trained resolutely on the ground, on the slips of water that covered the tile.

“Hey,” James said, grimacing slightly and still looking over at where Remus was. “You okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” Sirius snapped back, and James frowned at him disapprovingly.

“Don’t you dare take this out on me,” he warned. “This isn’t in any way my fault, so don’t pretend it is.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said, glaring at the counter. “I don’t even care.”

“Yeah you do,” James said, with a roll of his eyes. He stopped talking and scanned another membership politely, averting his eyes from the glare Sirius could feel himself giving James. Finally, when the person left, Sirius let out a sigh.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It really doesn’t matter. It’s not like we were — it’s okay.”

“It sucks though,” James said with a frown.

“They want me to go with the two of them for ice cream,” Sirius said finally. “Instead of just me and Remus like it was supposed to be. It’s going to be me, Remus, and — and Caradoc. He’s coming along.”

“Don’t go if you want,” James said with a shrug. “It will probably only do more harm than good, so there’s no use torturing yourself.”

“But he’s my friend,” Sirius argued, barely resisting the urge to look over. He tried not to think. He muttered it to himself. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

“Yeah, sure, but it’s probably also going to put you in an awful place.”

Sirius knew he was right. Caradoc would give him one of those feelings that tinted the world, one that didn’t have a name but made everything in the world get ripped, pushed askew, all in ways they weren’t supposed to go. Nobody else would understand. It wouldn’t be jealousy, not anger…maybe a product of the two. Something, something that made the coal inside him either go out or grow into a fire that wanted to consume him.

He looked over at Remus, whose book was resting on his lap. Sirius wondered if Caradoc liked to read. He wondered if they read together, wondered if Caradoc knew why Remus didn’t swim, wondered if Caradoc read Remus’s writing.

He wondered if Caradoc got to kiss Remus.

He wondered why he kept wondering these things when they were only hurting him further.

“I want to leave,” Sirius said suddenly, looking away from the two of them, stomach churning. James frowned down at the ground in a way that seemed almost disapproving. “What?” Sirius asked.

“You’ll only wallow if you have nothing to do. Why don’t you go re-organize the back room or something? You won’t have to see them, but you’ll have something to do.”

Sirius sighed. He knew James had already won. He was right. What Sirius really needed at the moment was something to do so he could keep his brain occupied, away from thoughts that reached out to him about Remus and Caradoc, about feelings he could no longer seem to deny.

“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll be inside. Can you tell Remus I can’t go to ice cream?”

James looked at him for a second longer and then gave a short nod, sighing and running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’ve got it. You just go reorganize, okay?”

“Okay.”

Sirius walked into the back room and put his hands to work. He turned on music, slipped in headphones, and turned it up loud enough to drown out everything in the world — to drown out his racing mind with words that swam in his ears and took over every part of him.

He worked, not thinking, just listening to music and moving to the beat, drowning everything out. It worked. He’d known it would — he knew he’d have to face everything eventually, but for the moment, smothering it was the best solution. The easiest way to make it through.

So he didn’t hear anybody enter the room. Not the soft pad of footsteps, just the blaring of music in his ears. He didn’t sense somebody behind him. His eyes were closed now, he was standing and swaying without sight to encumber him. Music, sounds, nothing else.

It wasn’t until he opened his eyes that he caught movement in his periphery, and he turned around in shock to see none other than Remus Lupin standing there. He stared for a minute and then reluctantly pulled out one earbud, the music still blaring, but tinny instead of pounding through him like it had been.

“Remus?” he said, and pulled out the other earbud with even more trepidation running through him.

“Hey,” Remus said, looking around the room. He stood uncertainly in the doorway.

“This room is for staff,” Sirius said, hoping his dismissal came across clearly enough, because he was quietly terrified he’d either end up breaking down or telling Remus why he was so upset, two things he resolutely wanted to avoid.

“Oh.” Remus frowned. “James said you couldn’t come to get ice cream with us.”

“Yeah. Something came up.” He didn’t expand on it anymore, because he could feel the pressure rising in him, and he knew Remus had to leave. “Is that all?” He raised his eyebrows as though exasperated, and he wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did, because he’d never be exasperated by Remus.

“I guess,” Remus said after a pause. He looked away. “Is everything okay?” The words were quiet because Remus wasn’t facing him, but Sirius caught them anyway.

“Fine,” he said. “Everything is fine.”

“Okay,” Remus said slowly, and he left the room looking uncertain and out of place. Sirius put his earbuds back in, and the music consumed him once more.

* * *

During the next week, Sirius was back down to low. Caradoc showed up with Remus most days. They smiled and laughed — they talked to each other. Sat together.

Sirius felt awful. He felt jealous. And he felt like a terrible friend, because he couldn’t even get over his stupid crush and talk to his friend. What kind of person did that? He wanted to apologize to Remus and tell him it hadn’t meant anything at all, tell him that he still wanted to be friends, but he couldn’t seem to make himself do it.

Remus seemed strangely inclined to avoid him too, and Sirius had no idea if he’d done something, or if Remus was merely returning the favor. They were back at odds again, out of the sync that Remus had somehow lulled him into. Sirius had messed everything up because of Caradoc. It was killing him slowly — the way Remus’s face crumpled slightly when he saw Sirius, the way Sirius’s chest did the same flop that got him nowhere except to compress the coal further until he felt like drowning all over again.

It only reminded him how reliant he was on other people. He knew it was one of his weaknesses, something he shouldn’t be so dependent on. He couldn’t let other people determine his wellbeing, because that wasn’t their responsibility.

But Sirius couldn't help it. He couldn't help the way Remus crushed him, and he couldn't help the way it felt inside his chest when Caradoc sat casually down next to Remus. The worst part of it was that Caradoc was probably good for Remus. He was probably sane, level-headed, not messed up enough that he fell into strange moods he couldn't even begin to describe, let alone get out of.

He wasn’t so terrible that he’d stop talking to his friend over a mere case of jealousy, most likely.

Sirius couldn't help but want Caradoc to disappear. He wanted things to go back to normal, so he could sit next to Remus and listen to stories from his latest book. He wanted to walk to the park so they could do stupid things like find shapes in the clouds. He wanted that with every fiber of his being.

He was jealous. It went along swimmingly with his neediness, with his absolute requirement of being loved — the one that went so unfortunately with his fear of pushing himself on other people. He missed Remus, and he knew that he’d have to suck it up and get over the feelings tearing through him.

So that's exactly what he did. He resolved to apologize to Remus, because he hadn’t deserved anything about the way Sirius was treating him. It was on an especially hot day, when the sun was even more relentless than usual. A constant presence that had no intention of giving up.

"Remus," he said quietly, walking over to Remus with a small frown. "Can I talk to you? After we close today? At — at the park or something."

Remus stared at him, one eyebrow raised higher than Sirius thought was possible, and he stared at Sirius like he was looking right through him. Sirius flinched away for a second.

"I want to apologize," he clarified finally, lowering his voice. "I haven't been treating you well recently."

It almost made him laugh, because the tables had turned now. Before, it had been Remus begging to apologize at the park. And now… now it was him.

"After swimming then," Remus said flatly, shaking his head in a way that said this was barely a chance, that said Sirius would have to work very hard if he wanted to make anything up. Sirius was jittery for the rest of the day, restless and scared, watching the seconds tick by. After Lily's swimming finished, after James had gone home, Sirius lingered. He waited for Remus, hands clasped so tightly together that he thought it might stop the blood from flowing through his veins.

When Remus approached him, jumper-clad, book under his arm, Sirius smiled tentatively. He'd missed even this, even the ability to smile at Remus. He resented how much he'd missed it.

Remus didn't return the smile. Not that Sirius had expected him to.

They walked in silence, and it was beyond awkward — almost too serious a situation for awkward to be an option, but it was tense. There was something hanging so heavily between them that Sirius wasn't certain if he'd be able to break through. He was determined to try.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, if only to stop the silence that he couldn't seem to get rid of. He couldn't believe he wanted sound after all this time trying to silence his brain.

"Sorry." Remus said the word dully, like it meant absolutely nothing. It didn't mean much, Sirius granted him that. It was a word you could throw out at anything — a stumble, a bump. Something minor. A word that didn't have to mean anything.

"Yeah," Sirius said anyway. "I'm really sorry."

"Really?" Remus asked. They were halfway to the park now, on a long stretch of green grass. Remus stopped right where he was, and turned to face Sirius headlong, glaring in a way that Sirius hadn't seen before. The book was clenched so tightly in his hand that his fingers faded to a white color around the tips. "Because you said it was okay. You said you didn't care that I was gay, but as soon as you find out about my boyfriend, you run off and refuse to talk with me?"

"I —“ Sirius couldn't help it. He laughed, partly out of relief, partly because of the huge misunderstanding that he knew had been simmering. "No, Remus, you've got it wrong."

"Wrong?" Remus was glaring even more fiercely, like the laugh had lit a fire inside of him. He gripped the book, his feet looked like they were digging into the ground. "Then why, as soon as you saw my boyfriend, did you decide not to talk to me?"

Sirius froze. He looked away. He realized there was no way to explain this without giving everything away, which was something he wasn't prepared to do.

"I can't explain," he said with a frown. He could have lied. He was adept enough at making up lies, what with the necessity that his childhood had provided him with. He could have. He almost did, too, but there was something about the way Remus was staring at him that stopped him. "There's a reason, but I can't tell you."

"Why?" Remus asked, exasperated, throwing his hands up. "Why can't you tell me?"

Sirius stared down at his feet, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this awful.

"I can't," he whispered. "I — Remus, please."

"You want me to forget about it when you can't even explain why? Don't you owe me that much? Sirius, you ignored me for a week without telling me why. I know that’s what I did to you before, but I thought we agreed to talk before we went off ignoring each other.”

"How long have you and Caradoc been together?" Sirius asked suddenly.

"What?" Remus frowned, temporarily thrown off. "A month, why?"

"I don't - I..." Sirius trailed off and sighed. He sunk to the ground right where he was in the middle of the grass and put his head in his hands. Everything was going so entirely wrong. None of this was how it was supposed to go. Now he'd embarrassed himself so completely that he didn't feel like he could ever stand up.

After a moment, he felt Remus sit down next to him.

"Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly, looking at Sirius, but Sirius closed his eyes.

"No."

"Can you tell me why?"

"I hate that I ignored you," Sirius muttered into his hands. "I'm so sorry. I would have been so angry at you, and then I went and did exactly what I told you not to do.“

"Sirius, do you understand how hard it is for me to write it off when you say you can't explain why? I mean, it's hard to. It's really hard to. And it's hard to see how this isn't because you're homophobic or something."

"I know," Sirius said, and he looked up desperately. "I know, I really really do. If I said I could explain at some point, would that be enough for you?"

Remus considered him for a minute and shook his head slightly. There was a long pause.

"Fine," he said. "You know what? Fine. But if you go off pretending I don’t exist again without explaining why, it's going to be a lot more difficult for me to just write it off."

"I know," Sirius said. He took a breath and looked over at Remus. He smiled tentatively and this time Remus almost returned it, just a tiny crinkle in the corner of his eyes.

"What's your book about?" Sirius asked suddenly, wanting this awful tension to go away, wanting to watch Remus light up again, wanting him to talk and for things to feel like they had gone back to normal. Remus looked at him suspiciously, like he knew exactly what Sirius was trying to do, but he indulged him anyways, describing some fantasy world way off in a place that didn't exist. It was easy for Sirius to lose himself in it when Remus described the worlds.

They walked to the park after that.

"You know, we never did get that ice cream," Remus said hesitantly. He looked down at the ground when he said it, and Sirius glanced over at him.

"You want to do that now?"

"Yeah," Remus said. "If you want to."

When they walked there, Sirius tried to steel himself. He took a deep breath. He decided to take a plunge — something he didn't usually do.

"I missed talking to you while I was being a dick, you know," he said quietly. There was a pause after he said it that made his insides all knot up, including his heart, made every part of him twist with anxiety and made the coal flicker uncertainly.

"I missed talking to you," Remus said with a laugh. "Nobody else indulges my stupid books."

"They aren't stupid!" Sirius insisted, and then his brain caught up with what Remus was saying. He opened his mouth. Hesitated. "What about Caradoc, surely you talk to him about your books?"

"What is it with you and Caradoc?" Remus frowned, looking over at him. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Sirius said quickly, with a shrug, wanting to backtrack.

"Anyways, I don't like to talk about them. It's stupid. They're fantasy books, they should be for kids."

"Well, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life," Sirius said promptly, feeling something inside him swell and rush to defend. It felt like Remus was strangely sensitive about this, and Sirius didn't want that. He didn't want Remus to feel like he had to hide a part of himself. "Adults are mostly the ones who write them anyways."

"Yeah, I guess," Remus said uncertainly. He frowned anyways. Sirius looked at him closer.

"I'm serious," he said, which drew a small smile from Remus. "In both senses of the word."

"Anyhow, enough worrying. We have ice cream to get, don't we?" They walked down the road, which felt more welcoming than it had been before.

It was at that moment that everything struck Sirius at once.

He hadn't known Remus long. It couldn't have been more than a couple months really, but it already felt like Remus was such an integral part of him that he would curl up and never unfurl if he had to let it go.

There was something about Remus, something beyond James, something beyond everybody really. Despite the fact that Remus sometimes pushed him away, which was something that would usually send Sirius running for the hills, he couldn't resist himself with Remus. He chased after Remus, because it was worth it, because Remus wasn't something he wasn’t willing to lose yet.

And walking beside him, Sirius felt so oddly complete that he almost blurted everything out.

But he didn't. He kept it in, tried to hide how the proximity affected him, tried to pretend everything was exactly as normal as it had ever been.

"We almost there?" he asked, looking over at Remus, who snorted and gave a fake yawn.

"Why, you tired already?"

"Of course not," Sirius said, glaring at him. "Me? Tired? Unheard of, really. I'm insulted that you'd suggest such a thing."

Remus raised one eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'm exhausted," Sirius admitted, reaching down to stretch out one of his legs, insides bubbling at Remus's laugh. "Shut up! I've been standing all day catering to people like you who visit the pool for a living!"

Remus rolled his eyes and kicked at another pebble.

"Do you have a job?" Sirius asked suddenly, considering Remus.

"No. I just read and write and waste time.”

“Do you think you’re really going to get something published someday?" Sirius asked curiously, glancing at Remus out of the corner of his eyes. "Because knowing you, you're probably at the level where it wouldn't be hard."

"No," Remus frowned. "I'm not good enough."

"That's ridiculous," Sirius proclaimed. "You read all the time. You're probably better than a million other authors."

"How would you know?" Remus asked with a laugh. "You've never read anything of mine, anyways."

"I know a way to remedy that," Sirius said, wheedling, tipping his head towards Remus and batting his eyelashes in an overly-dramatic way. Remus laughed and shoved at him, sending him stumbling off to the side. Sirius stared at him in fake horror, clasping a hand to his chest and shaking his head.

"How dare you?" he asked. "Is that really how you want to play? Because you aren't the only one who can fight, let me tell you that."

And then everything was a whirlwind of running and laughing, of gentle shoving and teasing faces, all the way until they ended up outside of an ice cream parlor. Sirius looked at Remus, his hair all over the place, one curl hanging in front of his face. He was covered with a sheen of sweat, cheeks warm — and despite the heat, which was unpleasantly oppressive and seemingly determined to crush the spirit out of all of them, he'd never felt this happy. He'd never felt this complete.

All of a sudden, he started to wonder if his fear of being alone was completely unfounded, if Remus was the kind of person that was waiting, hidden.

He wondered if he'd ever have somebody like Remus. 

He wondered if like Remus was good enough, or if what he really needed was just Remus.

The ice cream place was smaller than Florean's, slightly more quaint, and it was run by somebody named Ollivander — not as inviting as Florean Fortesque, in Sirius's humble opinion.

"Do you want cotton candy again?" Remus asked, and Sirius looked over at him in surprise.

"What?"

"Oh, sorry. That's what you got last time, is all."

"I..." Sirius trailed off, unreasonably touched by the fact that Remus had remembered what kind of ice cream he ordered last time. "Nah, I'll try something new. You choose, I'm not good at making decisions."

"Fine," Remus said, and he nodded at a table in the corner. "You can go ahead and sit down, and I'll get our ice creams, is that good?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, with a smile that he felt. He sat down at a table in the corner. The leather of the seats was cracked, tiny bits of stuffing showing through in some places, but somehow it felt steadying to see them. He ran his finger along the crack and wondered what Remus was hiding beneath the surface, what Sirius would be able to see if Remus was cracked open. He wondered why Remus was so determined not to be solved. He tried not to wonder, because Remus didn't want him to.

So when Remus sat down and handed Sirius and ice cream with a smile, Sirius took it, trying to ignore the way their fingers touched — lingered? He wasn't sure. It was probably just him. He ate his ice cream and smiled at Remus, he did his best not to look too closely.

"What even is this?" Sirius choked, looking at Remus with a dent in his forehead, unable to keep back the disgusted choke. Remus grinned at him and tilted his head to the side.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently. "Don't you like it? It's pistachio lemon ice cream. You left me to choose.“

Sirius choked, halfway between disgust and laughter, and he glared over at Remus with no real weight behind it, because he really couldn't help but laugh along at how ridiculous Remus was. At how ridiculously endearing it was.

"Here," Remus said, pushing his own bowl of ice cream towards Sirius. "Take this one instead, I couldn't resist, but you really shouldn't have to suffer through all that."

"Oh, no," Sirius laughed, and he pushed the ice cream back. "I couldn't."

Remus smiled at him, and it felt like the sky was breaking open, a shattering and a flood of water over the earth.

“Fine,” he said at last. “We’ll share mine, then. I’ll go grab another spoon.”

Chapter Text

The next day when Remus came to the pool, Caradoc was nowhere near him. In fact Caradoc had been strangely absent over the past couple of days, and no matter how much Sirius tried to ignore it, he didn't have that much self restraint.

"Where's Caradoc?" he asked, sliding in next to Remus and stretching out a yawn. Remus pulled a face and shrugged.

"Broke up with him."

"What?" Sirius asked, staring at him with his eyes wide and heart flipping. "You did what?"

"I didn't want to date in the first place," Remus said putting his finger on the page of his book so he wouldn't lose his place, snapping the front cover closed. "Lily was the one who set me up with him, actually, because she said it would be nice to have somebody, whatever that’s supposed to mean. I hate dating."

"Why?" Sirius asked curiously. His heart had leapt and then sank in the space of less than a second. It was that quickly, a blip, a beat, here and there as fast as a snap of fingers.

"I don't like to be tied down," Remus said with a small frown. “Metaphorically of course. I’m not good at — at adapting to other people. My expectations are too high, I guess. I'm not good at compromising. I want to be myself, and other people suppress me, and I can't deal with that."

"Hmm," Sirius said thoughtfully, looking at him with a question on his face, even though he wasn't exactly sure what the question was.

"Anyways, it's better off like this," Remus said with a small laugh. He turned back to his book, and Sirius gave him a small nod.

On the other side of the pool, James was pacing and Lily was swimming, diving in and out of the water, taking huge strokes and propelling herself faster than anybody else in the pool, surpassing them all easily.  James was wringing his hands as he watched her, glancing over at Sirius every now and then in question. After weeks of insisting that, ‘Today’s the day, Sirius! I promise!” James had finally decided that today was the real day, that he was finally going to work up the nerves.

So when the sun had risen and set past its peak and she finally clambered out of the pool, Sirius lingered by the door with Remus, watching the two of them.

"He's gonna ask her out," Sirius murmured to Remus, watching as James appeared to fumble over his words.

"Really?" Remus asked, one eyebrow raised, and he turned to watch them more carefully. "She'll probably say yes. They're good together."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "I think they are. Should we leave them to it?”

“Sure, d’you want to walk to the park?" Remus asked with a yawn, eyes fluttering closed momentarily in that way he did when he was especially tired, like he was trying to get in a second of sleep during the daytime. "I'm bored and I don't feel like going home yet."

"I never feel like going home," Sirius snorted, and Remus turned to look at him quickly, wincing.

"Sorry, I didn't... I know, you have it way worse than I do."

"Remus," Sirius said disapprovingly, lowering his brow line and staring. "Please stop apologizing, go it? Comparing isn't going to get either of us anywhere."

Remus nodded slowly.

"What's it like, living with them?" he asked slowly, "If that's okay to ask. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine," Sirius said with a yawn. "They ignore me for the most part. Pretend I'm not in their family. I'm supposed to be an esteemed Black Family Heir, but I didn't exactly turn out how they wanted me to. I'm pretty much espoused, although they haven't made it official. Yet."

"Oh," Remus said, like he wasn't sure what to say. He opened his mouth, like he was scrambling for words, but Sirius shrugged it off.

"I don't go home much, so it's fine. They used to beat me, so it's an improvement, actually."

"They — I’m so sorry, Sirius," Remus said, looking at him in that earnest way that seemed to be so strangely rare.

"It's okay," Sirius said with a shrug.

"Not really," Remus countered. They'd reached the park now, bare feet in the grass. It was cool and green, and Sirius wormed his feet into it like he was standing in the sand at the beach. He took a deep breath and felt the way the grass grew against his toes.

"Well. I don't need them."

They felt silent after that, and Remus sat down on the bench.

"My mother doesn't let me leave the house much, except for swimming," he said quietly. "I haven't told her that I come to the park afterwards. She's very...overprotective. She’s been trying to convince me to go back to swimming — she doesn’t understand why I stopped — and I told her that I will at some point.“

"Oh," Sirius said with a nod. "So that's why you always come with Lily even though you don't swim? To get out of the house.“

Remus nodded, looking down at the grass and kicking off his shoes slowly, prying off his socks with the other foot.

"Yeah. I don't like to come, sometimes, because I miss it.”

"Hey Remus, you know you can talk to me, right?" Sirius said simply. "I know, I know, I've said it before, but really. I'm always here to talk, and I really don't care what it’s about. I won't judge you."

Remus frowned. "Yeah, I know. And I might tell you at some point, but I don't..." he trailed off and looked down at the ground again, focused on the way his toes moved against the grass. "I don't talk to people much," he said eventually. "This might sound ridiculously narcissistic, but I prefer myself. I don't like sharing. I don't — well.“

"You don't like to be tied down," Sirius said finally, understanding, thinking back to what Remus had said before, and Remus nodded.

It was the opposite of himself, Sirius thought. He was overly needy, overly clingy, requiring love and human connection to keep himself going. Remus — Remus isolated himself. He needed fake worlds, he needed his own mind. He needed not to be held down by other people. The two of them were so completely incompatible that it was almost laughable.

Friendship, Sirius thought, friendship worked. He had James, and he had Remus when Remus felt like it.

But anything more seemed like it would clash horrifyingly with the contrast between their personalities. Sirius would need him. He would need Remus at times of the night when he didn’t want to sleep. He would need Remus when he got into weird moods that he couldn't understand. He would need Remus when Remus needed space.

Anything more was practically impossible with the two of them, and that was something Sirius would have to accept.

It must have showed on his face, some inkling of sad acceptance, because Remus tilted his head in a clear question. Sirius smiled sadly back at him, not sure how to answer.

"What?" Remus asked when Sirius didn't say anything, voicing the question out loud.

"Nothing."

* * *

When Sirius got home that day — home as in to James's house, of course, clambering through the window, he found James grinning like his mouth was going to split wide open.

"Hey," he said, asking a question by tilting his head to the side as Remus had done earlier.

"Guess what she said," James said, answering his own question with the grin that still fled across his face.

"I'm really happy for you," Sirius said with a smile, not even needing to ask what she’d said because it was evident from the smile on James’s face. As he sat down on the bed, he wished there wasn't a tendril of sadness curdling through him and reaching into his brain. He didn't want to take this moment away from James with his neediness — he didn't want to take anything away from James.

He felt like a burden again, in the way he so often did, and he tried to shove it away.

"We're going out this weekend," James grinned, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't think she'd say yes, I really didn't, but she said yes and we're going to see a movie this weekend."

"That's wonderful," Sirius said, doing his very best to sound genuine. "I hope you have a good time with her. I really think you two are good together”

"Okay, spill it," James said after a moment of studying Sirius's face. "What's got you all sad?"

"Remus broke up with Caradoc," Sirius frowned. "He doesn't want a relationship."

James looking confused at first, but then — his face quickly shifting when he understood the dilemma — he nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "Maybe he needs some time. Maybe he's only looking for friendship, who knows. I know you like him, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter," Sirius shrugged. He looked away and tried not to think too much about it. "It wouldn't have been good with the two of us, anyways. Besides, he doesn't like me back, so it doesn't matter." He paused. "It doesn't matter," he said again, trying to convince himself, like maybe saying the words would make them come true.

* * *

Sirius stayed in his own house the entire weekend. He shut himself in his room and put earbuds in, trying not to listen to the world around him. He pretended he was the only one in existence. It wasn't hard while he was being ignored, because it felt like he was the only one. Like nobody else in the world even knew he was there. Or like they did know but they didn't care at all.

Maybe he was imposing.

Maybe James and Remus, maybe all of them would be better without him. It would be less effort, which was something he desperately needed anyways. He couldn't take the effort it required trying to make friends, trying to keep things up.

He sank into his bed and stared at the wall. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there.

He wasn't in one of his moods where he didn't understand what he was feeling, because he wasn't feeling. He was as unfeeling as the wall that he was stuck staring at, as fluid as the music that dripped by note by note, slower every time.

Even when it started to rain, all Sirius wanted to do was to curl into himself and vanish from the world. The rain didn't sound beautiful to him. It didn't wash away his worries. It did absolutely nothing except make him realize why other people hated the rain so, why they thought it was miserable. He wondered distantly why he'd never seen it before. He wondered how he'd been able to see the good in even the rain while at the moment he couldn't see the good in anything.

Even the grey of the day outside was too bright, like it was searing his eyes, and could barely stand to look out the window.

He thought of James and Lily, sitting in a movie theater and laughing together. He couldn't be that. Not for James, not for Remus. All he could do was sit in his room and stare at the wall, wishing he would melt to the ground and become a part of the floor.

There was a knock at the door.

Sirius ignored it. It was probably his imagination anyways, making fun of him for hoping things could be different, for wishing he had a place in the world instead of being a gaping nothingness that couldn't even move. It was his imagination mocking him.

But then the door opened, and a figure stepped through.

"Regulus?" Sirius asked, looking up at the form. He was clad in black, as grey and depressing as the rest of the day, like he was a storm personified, coming to rain more misery down upon Sirius. "What are you doing here?"

Regulus shrugged and looked around the room.

"Usually you're with James," he muttered, and he sat down on the edge of Sirius's bed. Sirius wasn't sure what to expect from Regulus, but that was almost comforting. Another person like himself who he couldn't predict. Another loose cannon who didn't exactly have a place in the world.

"Yeah, well," Sirius said. He didn't explain, because Regulus didn't care and Sirius already hated himself for being so miserable about this. "I'm not now."

Regulus nodded slowly.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked again, staring at Regulus. Usually he never entered Sirius's room, like the threshold was a line of fire, one he wasn't supposed to cross. Not now, not ever. But he'd crossed it like it was nothing, like it had never been anything.

The rain still pounded down around them, rattling against the roof and streaking down the one window in Sirius's room that overlooked the street. Sirius fell back onto his bed and tried to breathe.

“I don’t know,” Regulus shrugged, looking disinterested. He peered around Sirius’s room and scoffed, as though he disapproved at the posters. Sirius felt a small stab of satisfaction at that. At least the posters had angered somebody like they were supposed to do in the first place. “Why do you insist on disobeying our parents?”

Sirius laughed at that, and it felt almost cruel the way it came out, harsh and angry and filling up the room.

“Our parents barely even know I exist. I can’t think of a time in the last few months when they acknowledged my existence.”

“That’s your fault,” Regulus insisted. “They’re ignoring you because you’re a disappointment to the family name. You could have gone so far, Sirius, and you’re throwing it all away. Why? What do you have to gain from it?”

“Do you actually think scamming and attacking and making laws against the existence of certain people is okay?” Sirius asked.

“Okay is very subjective,” Regulus said slowly. “What’s okay to animals might not be okay to us. We’re on different planes of existence, and even within our species some people are above others. That’s how it works, and if you don’t give up your idealistic view of this crumbling world and accept some hard facts, you’re going to get nowhere.”

Sirius glared. He shook his head and looked up at Regulus.

“Is that actually what you think? You’re on a ‘higher plane of existence’ than everyone else?”

Regulus shrugged. “We have different perspectives. I do what I want. Life will go on until it doesn’t, the world will keep spinning until it stops, and we’ll keep existing until we don’t. It isn’t that complicated. There are no consequences. The afterlife is a lie. Once you’re dead, you’re dead.”

Sirius looked away from Regulus and did his best not to think.

“You’re wrong,” he said quietly. “There are consequences. Other people have lives and feelings. There are no ‘planes of worth.’”

Regulus scoffed again and shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said. “You’ve gone soft.” With that he turned around and started to walk out of Sirius’s room, stopping once at the threshold to look back with his eyebrows raised. “You’re going to realize at some point that it’s pointless to live with morals, and when you do, the world is your oyster.”

“If you ever come to your senses, you’ll have me here,” Sirius said quietly. “I want to help you, Regulus. You’re smart and you aren’t so far gone yet.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Spare me,” he spat. “Maybe Mother and Father are right to ignore you. I’m starting to think there isn’t as much hope for you as I once thought.” And then he stalked out of the room, letting the door swing closed behind him. Sirius buried his face in his hands once more and collapsed weakly on his bed.

He wondered if this was how Remus spent all his weekends, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Except Remus didn't wallow — Remus read books and wrote stories. Remus made worlds for himself when he didn't have a place he could default too.

Sirius wondered briefly if that was his own shortcoming. He wondered if he relied so much on other people because he couldn't bring himself to rely on his own mind.

He closed his eyes and ignored everything. He tried to think of other worlds, tried to picture himself living by an ocean. Tried to picture himself with magic. He tried to write stories in his head, and wondered if he could get as absorbed with this as Remus did.

But he couldn't, because a second later he realized what a grand waste of time all this was. He realized he should be working. He couldn't waste all these seconds when he should be doing something that was worth something instead of lying around and doing absolutely nothing. He got up and made his way slowly out the door, winding down the driveway and along the road, kicking at pebbles as he went and watching them skitter away from him like they were magnetically repelled.

He walked to the pool, letting himself in quietly. That's when he saw somebody, standing by the side of the pool and staring down at the water. He knew immediately who it was without having to look a second time, because he'd recognize Remus's curls from anywhere.

“Remus?” He said it quietly, because he didn’t have the energy it would take to raise his voice. It wasn’t raining, but the sky was still grey above them, and it felt somehow closer to the ground.

“Sirius? What are you doing here?”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Sirius said with a short laugh. “I thought I’d come here. Not sure why. To clean up, I guess. I needed something to do, and I was sitting at home, staring at the walls. What are you doing here?”

“I dunno,” Remus said, sitting down at the edge of the pool. He let his feet dip into the water. It wasn’t blue. The day was light, and the sky above made it reflect grey, less a pool and more an icy pond. It was only the two of them, so Sirius sat down beside him and dipped his own feet into the water.

“You remember when I wouldn’t talk to you, when Caradoc was there?”

Sirius wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore. All he knew was that he was opening his mouth and words were coming out, that he was past caring, that if he could sit and stare at a wall all day, he most certainly could tell Remus why he was an idiot.

“I remember,” Remus said with a frown. “Are you going to tell me why now?”

“I was jealous,” Sirius sighed, the words floating out on a breath. “I’m sorry, I really tried not to be. I didn’t want to. But I get — I get needy, sometimes, no matter how much I don’t want things to be that way. It’s hard for me not to have attention sometimes, as — as pathetic as that sounds.”

The things he were saying he’d never expressly said out loud. James understood them, because James understood everything about him, but Sirius had never spoken them.

“And…I don’t know. You were always talking to him, and I felt replaced. It’s stupid. We’re friends, of course you can have other friends or boyfriends, but I have such a hard time controlling myself, and. Well. It was hard for me. And I didn’t tell you, because it’s pathetic and because it’s the kind of thing a toxic friend would say, that you couldn’t have other friends, and I don’t want to be that Remus, it’s the last thing. I just don’t know how to change myself.”

Remus moved his foot through the water. It was only slightly reflected, showing a half-faded and distorted version of them in grey.

“You were jealous?” Remus asked. He looked down at the water.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I know I’m too much sometimes.”

“Well, it’s okay. Human nature and all that. Besides, with your family…”

Sirius sighed and stared down at the water again. He watched the way it rippled, the way the water melted in the path of his foot.

“I’m probably not a good person to be friends with you,” Sirius laughed. “You’re kind of the opposite, aren’t you?”

“Being around you doesn’t feel as bad as most people,” Remus said quietly. “But I do — I need alone time. It’s just how I’m made, I guess. That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, Sirius, don’t be ridiculous. Even if I have other friends, or boyfriends, or — you know. It doesn’t mean I’m going to be any less of a friend to you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, with a tentative smile that felt half of what it usually did.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me, before?” Remus asked with a frown, and Sirius shrugged. Inside, he was screaming at himself. That’s not all, he was yelling. I wasn’t jealous of your friendship. I was jealous of not being more. I was jealous of not being Caradoc.

But those thoughts were stuck in his brain, in a place where he was certain they couldn’t get out, in a place where they wouldn’t wreak havoc and destroy the friendship between them, because that — that was something that he wouldn’t be quite so good at handling.

“I dunno,” Sirius shrugged. “It felt stupid. It’s the kind of thing that drives people away, you know.”

“Well, you can’t always help your feelings,” Remus told him, and the way he said it made it feel as though there was something more behind that statement, but Sirius didn’t press. “You can really only help your reactions to them. So as long as you try not to go running off and ignoring me, then things will be okay, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius burst out again. “I was awfully mad at you for ignoring me without explaining, and then — than I went and did the same exact thing. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said with a shrug. “Behind us now, yeah? We’ve both been stupid. We learn. That’s how life works.”

“I guess,” Sirius said doubtfully. “I guess so. I should probably get going.” He jerked his thumb towards the entrance to the pool.

“Really?”

“Really what?” Sirius stopped to look back at Remus, who still had his feet dangling in the pool and was now raising his eyebrows at Sirius.

“Do you really have to go, or do you just feel too awkward to stay?”

“I —” Sirius gave him a sheepish look, tilting his head to the side, because somehow Remus read him perfectly.

“That’s what I thought,” Remus grinned. “Come back, idiot. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. It’s — you know, I used to think I’d have to find the perfect person to have a best friend, before. I thought they’d have to be exactly like me. Introverted. Loves to read. That kind of thing. But you — we make it work somehow, don’t we? I don’t want someone like me anymore, even though we’re so different, because I like you.”

“Best friend?”

Remus shrugged, gave him a small smile.

“Yeah. Somehow, you make it work.”

“We just have to talk instead of running away from each other, yeah?” Sirius added with a short laugh.

“Probably best,” Remus grinned.

There was a pause, the sky a soft grey.

“If I’m staying here, I’m going swimming,” Sirius said flatly. “I work here all day and sit up at the food place, watching everybody else splash around and be ridiculous, and I don’t once get to go in the pool, you know that?”

“You don’t have a swimsuit!” Remus protested, but Sirius just grinned at him and took of his shirt. Then he burst into a full-on run and jumped into the pool, the water sloshing around him like a tidal wave as he plunged into the water.

That was another thing about Sirius — he couldn’t swim. He’d applied for the job last minute, because there were really no requirements other than good personable skills and customer service, which was something he could do just fine. The water was cool around him, enveloping in him, cool against his skin and pleasantly erasing, like it was washing away everything around him.

He surfaced and grabbed onto the edge of the pool, pushing the hair out of his eyes and looking up at Remus with a tiny smile.

“You want to come in?” he asked slowly, knowing he was pushing his luck but also knowing that it might be worth the risk after all.

“Into the water?” Remus asked, looking at him confused, as though he couldn’t quite believe that Sirius was asking.

“Yeah, into the water. I’m the only one here, you know.”

“I…” Remus hesitated then, and it felt as though he was actually considering it, genuinely unsure if going into the water might be something he could do. That alone warmed Sirius’s heart slightly, even though the water around him was colder than usual with the darkness scattered across the clouds.

“I can’t even swim,” Sirius admitted as he clung to the wall. “I could use an expert to help me, you know, and everyone speaks very highly of your swimming ability. I don’t know a better person to teach me.”

“You can’t swim?” Remus laughed, looking down at him, and at that moment Sirius realized why he was smiling. He realized that the coal had fallen back into his stomach, heavy and warm, and that he felt like everything had gone back to how it was supposed to be.

The coal. The inexplicable feeling that things were good. One of those in-between feelings that tinted his world and made everything feel right. Right, just right, like there was nothing he could possibly do to change it back and cloud his vision. Even though he knew there was in theory — even though mere hours earlier he’d hated even the rain.

He wondered if it was because of Remus. He wondered if his reliance on other people went too far, into a dangerous territory where he couldn’t be okay on his own.

He wondered if that was so wrong, if it was true.

“No,” Sirius laughed back, taking his hands off the edge momentarily and feeling himself start to sink, grasping back frantically. “Can’t swim in the slightest, actually. I’m completely hopeless at it.” He pushed himself up and out of the pool with a clambering motion that was far from graceful, flopping down on the ground next to Remus, and looking up at him with a pleading nature.

Remus’s eyes were fixed lower though, on a place just above his abdomen, and Sirius followed his gaze.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, pointing to the clump of scars there. Sirius looked away. He’d had them for as long as he could remember, from a time when his parents wouldn’t ignore them. He couldn’t count the nights he’d sat and stared at the scars, guiltily wishing his parents would still pay him that much attention and knowing it was a ridiculous thing to wish for.

“My family,” Sirius sad with a scoff. “My wonderful family.”

Remus couldn’t seem to drag his eyes away. He gulped. He gulped again, his mouth searching for words, and then he looked up at Sirius.

“That’s why I wear it,” he whispered. The words came out in a rush, as whispery as the wind through the trees and the rain against the pane of his windows. Sirius caught it — and he was glad he did, because it felt like they were words Remus had never said before, words he might not say again.

“I —” Sirius broke off, trying to connect all the dots in his head. And then he understood. “Why you wear a jumper, you mean,” he said, and it dawned on him. “Because you have scars that you don’t want people to see?”

Remus nodded quickly, looking away, and there was a flush that didn’t look like embarrassment — more like panic. His eyes were glistening with the beginning of tears as well, born out of panic most likely.

“Okay,” Sirius said quietly. He wanted to say something comforting — he almost asked what the scars were from, but he remembered what Remus had said about not asking questions until he was ready to talk. If that was what Remus wanted, Sirius would respect that, no matter how much all his instincts went against it. “Sorry I kept asking so much before. You don’t have to tell me what the scars were from.”

Remus just nodded again and didn’t stop nodding. He kept nodding, like he couldn’t stop himself, and then he was crying. There were tears dripping down his cheeks, and Sirius pushed himself up and out of the pool to sit next to him.

“Hey,” he said, “Things are going to be okay, you hear me? I promise you, things are going to be okay.”

Remus nodded again, a reflex action that he couldn’t seem to stop.

“No, I’m serious,” Sirius continued. He paused for a second. “Can I — do you want a hug?” It felt like a strange question to ask, but Remus nodded again, and Sirius hugged him hesitantly. It was awkward at first — an angle that most certainly wasn’t meant for hugging, not to mention the fact that Sirius was still dripping with pool water — but then Remus relaxed into it, tears still flowing down the sides of his face.

“Hey,” Sirius whispered to him. “I know it feels awful now, but it won’t soon, okay?” Remus nodded. “Right,” Sirius said, standing up, pulling Remus up with him. “Is that why you don’t swim anymore, then?”

Remus nodded. He looked away. Sirius moved so he was standing in front of Remus again, so they had to make eye contact.

“You can swim with your jumper on,” Sirius suggested quietly. “I’m swimming in clothes. There’s nobody else here to ask you questions, it’s just you and me, remember? I’m not going to say a thing. The jumper looks rather good on you, actually.”

Remus sighed. He looked at Sirius. He looked at the pool. The clouds hung heavy and grey above them.

And then, without warning, Remus sprinted towards the pool and leapt forward, curling himself up mid-flight to form a cannonball. He hit the surface of the water with a crash so immense that water swamped over the edges of the pool, creating tiny puddles in the divets between tiles where Sirius was standing.

Sirius whooped with joy and followed immediately after him, sprinting towards the pool and jumping in without a second thought, embracing the way the water closed in over his head. He could float even though he couldn’t swim — he was good enough to do that at least, no matter that Remus’s laugh was ringing happily in his ears.

It was a beautiful sound, one that made Sirius’s heart hurt again in the best of ways, one that made him feel like he was drowning in Remus.

“Hey!” he shouted, kicking himself backwards until he could cling to the wall. “Stop laughing at me, idiot! I’m a perfectly good swimmer, I just use my skills selectively.”

“Mmmhmm,” Remus said sarcastically, with a smile that stretched across his face. “I’m sure you’re a wonderful swimmer when you want to be.”

“Well, Mr. Lupin, would you like to show me your own incredible swimming skills? How fast can you get to the other side and back?”

Remus grinned wickedly at him, taking easy strokes over to the wall, with a power that seemed so simple and unforced. It was the kind of power Sirius would never have expected Remus to have, sitting on the side with his book and jumper and quiet voice, where his curly hair fell over his eyes and seeming to shield him from the rest of the world.

But now, now there was an unseen power bursting forth from within him, showering the world with an energy that it wasn’t yet prepared to deal with.

He pushed off the wall, splitting through the water underneath the surface, a blurry shape covered by a layer of grey. And then he burst through the outer surface, a sleek movement, taking strokes that propelled him farther than it seemed possible. His breaths were so easy — a nod to the side, not seeming tired in the slightest, but the speed with which he was moving suggested otherwise.

When he reached to opposite wall, he moved seamlessly into a flip, pushing off the concrete with a twisting movement, just below the water once more. When he finally reached Sirius again he clung to the wall, shaking off his hair and splattering water everywhere. He pushed the curls out of his face with one hand, gasping for breath and grinning towards Sirius.

“Jesus,” Sirius breathed, staring at him. Usually he was the one with the cocky outer demeanor, but he could see that he was really nothing compared to Remus, the way he split through the water like it wasn’t even there, merely an aid in his own plan to succeed. “You’re really good.”

“Why thank you,” Remus said, adding a tiny mock bow and a twirl of his hand. He held onto the wall for a second, and then dunked his head under the water, as though reveling in the cool way it washed over him. When he resurfaced, he looked over at Sirius again with a tiny smile.

“Good?” Sirius asked, not sure if he was asking for anything in particular, or if he was asking if Remus was okay despite his scars. Remus’s distant smile seemed to solidify some.

“Good,” he said quietly, giving another wonderful smile. “I’ve missed this a lot, actually. Thanks for — thanks for convincing me to swim again. I don’t think I would’ve done it on my own, you know. I would’ve sat on the edge forever and wallowed away in my own misery.”

“I don’t —”

“No, really,” Remus said quietly. “Thank you. Don’t make excuses or — just. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Sirius said with a smile. “Now, are you going to teach me how to swim or what?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Remus said with a laugh. “We might want to start in the shallow end where you won’t drown if you start to sink.” Seeming to realize something, he looked around him. “We’re definitely not allowed to be swimming right now, are we? Especially not without a lifeguard here?”

“No,” Sirius sniggered. “We are absolutely not allowed to be swimming here.”

“Wonderful,” Remus laughed. “Perfect. Now, you coming?” And with that, he dove back under the water, a dolphin with the way he cut through it, pushing off the water like it was solid and moving through it like it was gas, a strange dichotomy that reflected his own personality — quiet and small on land, stronger than anybody in the water.

“I’m coming!” Sirius called after him, making his way along the wall hand after hand. Perhaps going slightly slower than he was technically capable of because he was so caught up in watching the way Remus swam so gracefully through the water, his hair floating beautifully behind. “I’ll be right there, don’t you worry about me!”

Remus surfaced in the shallow end, standing up with a tiny bounce and a smile on his face so great that Sirius wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen one so large, so genuine before.

“Come on!” he called, beckoning towards Sirius. “You’ll learn how to swim if it’s the last thing you do.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Sirius said dubiously, staring out over the water. “I really don’t think…” he trailed off when Remus swam back towards him and grabbed his arm, dragging Sirius behind him. Sirius’s mind short-circuited at that, at the feeling of Remus grabbing his arm, jumper flowing behind him as he swam back towards the shallow end with Sirius in tow.

Everything felt so wonderful at that second that Sirius could barely stand it. James was happy — he was on a date with Lily, who he’d been talking about for weeks. Sirius was with Remus. They were friends. The coal was warm in his stomach.

He wondered vaguely, in that part of his mind that couldn’t seem to resist jumping back to the worst-case-scenario mindset that seemed to continually lurk there, how long the coal would last. He wondered when it would fizzle out. When he would go back to feel like he was impeding, to feeling worthless and alone.

He wondered when Remus would realize he was worthless.

He wondered when the rain would no longer mean joy.

* * *

When Sirius appeared outside James’s window sopping wet and dripping water everywhere he moved, James was already home. He was sitting alone on his bed, and he almost looked like he was sleeping — arm tossed over to cover his eyes. It was a peaceful looking posture, and Sirius made his way quietly through the window. His foot caught on the edge of the sill, and he shook it angrily. Droplets of water dotted the top of the ledge, staining the wood a darker brown, one that would fade quickly to the original weathered state.

He knew this — knew James’s window like the back of his hand from the number of times he’d snuck in during a particularly bad night at his house.

“James?” Sirius asked, just to make sure he was actually awake, and James rolled over onto his stomach, propping his head in the cup of his hands and raising an eyebrow. He didn’t even yell at Sirius about his chlorine and pool water sodden state, which meant something had gone particularly right.

“Date gone well?” Sirius asked, and James grinned up at him.

“I think I love her,” he said, rolling onto his back again and letting his arm serve the purpose of his eyelids. “Don’t tell her that, of course, because it’s way too soon. But. I’m pretty sure I love her.”

“You’re an idiot, but I’m glad you’re happy,” Sirius said, and he found that the words were completely genuine. Only the slightest spark of jealousy, one he could easily conceal when he looked at James. They were still best friends. Above all, they were best friends.

Sirius sat on the wood floor in front of James and yawned, leaning back on his hands and ignoring the way his shoulders would soon feel strained. He yawned again, and blinked, trying to get the sting of chlorine out of his eyes.

“Alright, fine, I’ll bite,” James said at last, dragging his arm off his eyes and glaring at Sirius. “Because apparently you aren’t going to tell me why you’re soaked in pool water. Why, oh grand Sirius, are you soaked in pool water and dripping all over my carpet?”

“Remus went swimming with me,” Sirius grinned, and they were both in such an exceptionally happy mood that it felt like the entire building was floating, like the ceiling couldn’t hold in their happiness, like even the sky couldn’t hold it back.

“What?” James asked, sitting bolt upright. “That wasn’t meant as some kind of strange gay metaphor, right?”

“Wh-no!” Sirius exclaimed, glaring at James. “James! What’s wrong with you! I mean, he finally went in the pool, even though he’s been refusing to do that for the entire time I’ve known him. I mean, he finally cracked.”

“Well?” James asked impatiently. “Why wasn’t he doing it before?”

“I…” Sirius hesitated. “I don’t think I can really tell you. You know I love you, of course, but I don’t think it’s something he’d want me to go around telling people. Even though you’re my best mate.”

“Okay,” James said, and instead of the protesting that Sirius had been half-expecting, James smiled at him.

“Why do you look so happy about that?”

“Oh, it’s — nothing.” It obviously wasn’t.

“Don’t try to spare me, please,” Sirius insisted, leaning back again and looking up at James. “What is it?”

“It feels like you’re branching out,” James said sheepishly. “Usually you tell me everything and I’m glad you’ve found another person you can talk to. I don’t think it’s good to be too reliant on one person.”

“You’re probably right,” Sirius agreed with a reluctant nod, “However much I know that’s going to inflate your ego more than seems possible, yeah. I know.”

James smiled.

“And he’s teaching me how to swim.”

“He what?” James asked, nearly tumbling off the bed. “Hold on, was this a gay metaphor after all?”

“James!” Sirius exclaimed, and he threw a pillow in James’s direction, ignoring his cackle of glee.

* * *

When they got to the pool the next day, Sirius dropped into the chair beside Remus with a bigger smile than usual.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Remus grinned back, and Sirius felt like he was going to explode with a million unsaid words and a million said words that he needed to say again.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Sirius said after a minute, when Remus had finished rummaging through his bag, when he’d finally pulled out another book. He wouldn’t be complete without that, of course. “And I came up with an idea. We should go swimming at night. That way you won’t have to wear a jumper, and I won’t have to see.”

Remus looked around them quickly, as though he expected people to be listening in, as though he thought he’d find reporters darting around corners, holding out clipboards and extravagant peacock feather pens. There was nobody listening of course. The day was taken over with splashing and overexcited kids, as days at the pool usually were.

“Yeah, we could,” Remus said with a laugh, rolling his eyes. “I presume you’re set on this idea, yeah? You’re not going to give it up?”

Sirius gave a mock cheer, as though Remus had already agreed, and he nodded vigorously.

“Absolutely,” he affirmed. “It’s brilliant, if I do say so myself, because I happen to have the keys to the pool. And the moon is getting bigger, believe it or not, so we won’t be completely blind. Just blind enough.”

Remus sighed and thumbed open his book, but it was more fond exasperation than plain exasperation. At least, that’s what Sirius told himself to keep himself sane. Remus wasn’t tired of him. It was something he tried to repeat, confident that if he said it enough times his brain might actually start to believe him.

Remus wasn’t tired of him.

“Well, that sounds brilliant,” Remus said with a huff. “If I can sneak out of the house, that is. My mother’s rather strict — did I mention that? She doesn’t trust me with much of anything, so it might be slightly difficult, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“It’s a plan then,” Sirius grinned, right before James snapped a towel in his direction and yelled at him to get his lazy arse off the chair. He scrambled to help James, shooting a smile at Remus over his shoulder.

It was strange, to make plans with someone else, especially when James wasn’t involved. It almost felt like he was doing something wrong, and Sirius resisted the very strong urge to turn around and taking everything back. He needed to burn off the restless energy running through him — he grabbed the stack of towels from James more vigorously than was probably necessary.

“I’m going swimming with Remus again tonight,” he said, and James beamed at him. Sirius wondered if James ever got jealous like he did, if he ever thought about Sirius leaving him in the way Sirius couldn’t seem to help. And then he thought James probably didn’t, because Sirius wasn’t worth that much — he was overestimating himself once more, making himself out as more than he actually was.

In the end, he had to remember his place. It wasn’t on top, it wasn’t at the side of friends — it was worthless, a face on the family tree that would end up burnt at some point. It would come soon enough, he knew that well, at some time when he least expected it.

“Okay,” James said simply. “Have fun, won’t you? And for the love of god, don’t get yourself caught, my mom is already mad at me for putting gum on her chair. Long story.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story later,” Sirius grinned — he felt like he owed it to James, to say that he was still James’s best friend no matter what, even though it was his own insecurities speaking. Even though he was basically trying to keep himself sane instead of James.

“That I will,” James said, an answering grin that Sirius was almost certain was meant to assuage any worries he might have.

The thing was, James had been there for the depths of it. He’d been there when Sirius went off the rails, when he appeared in the middle of the night sobbing uncontrollably, or when he shut down in the middle of the day and stared at the wall. He was there at every time — he’d overworked himself, and Sirius had pulled back from him, had broken further.

He’d been there. They’d set boundaries. He’d seen when Sirius stood on the edge of a precipice, albeit metaphorical, and he’d done his best to help Sirius through it. He knew, at the end of the day, that Sirius was shockingly human — flawed. Sirius was shockingly flawed, a mishmash of emotions that words didn’t have the nuance to capture.

He knew that Sirius was barely more capable than he pretended to be, that in reality, a lot of things in his life were slowly falling apart, that perhaps Remus was one of the only good things left to him at the moment.

He knew that Sirius was a lot more pathetic than he looked at first glance, at second glance — no glance could capture the mess that lurked within him, just below the surface, the one that would inevitably come pouring out if they stuck around long enough and waited through enough words.

Remus almost felt like a chance to start over, when at the same time, Sirius wanted to reveal every cracked portion of him, to show Remus that maybe he should run in the opposite direction while that was still an option.

* * *

Sirius had been right about the moon. It wasn’t full yet, a glazed half-moon that hadn’t reached the peak of its arc where it could bloom into something people would talk about, but it still seemed to cast an equal light over the land. It was beautiful, moreso than the sun because it wasn’t bright enough to fight off all the darkness.

Like himself, he mused. Not quite strong enough.

Remus was a few minutes late — minutes that were punctuated by the solid tap of Sirius’s feet against the ground, solid in their panic. If Remus didn’t show up, Sirius was quite certain even a dose of moonlight couldn’t save him from a whirlwind of distressed emotions, all slightly different in their variety, a range of spices that only he could taste.

And then Remus did show up. He was only a shadow, at first, a figure. Sirius wasn’t even sure if it was Remus — he wondered if he should be able to tell, but it was a blob and that was all, moving slowly, blending in with the world around the edges.

“Remus?” His voice wasn’t any louder than usual, but the absence of speech for such a long time before made it sound exceptionally loud.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He spoke in that same honey-like way he always did, too smooth to be human. Sirius hated it and loved it at the same time.

“I’m glad,” Sirius said through a laugh, and it almost felt like someone was watching, like the world was intruding on their privacy. Like even the moon was staring down at them and laughing through its own twilight. “At least you aren’t a kidnapper, or — god forbid — someone from my family.”

“I barely got past my mother,” Remus laughed. “But it’s good to get out. When I was younger, we’d go for walks together around midnight, she and I.”

“Oh.” Sirius didn’t want to ask what had happened to make his mother so protective, and he didn’t want to ask if Remus would get in trouble for this. He never wanted Remus to leave.

“The pool’s going to be freezing,” Remus laughed, staring down at the water. It looked like a lake during the night, murky, near-black, even with the moonlight reflecting against tiny crests and ripples that ran through it. “This was your stupidest idea to date.”

“What, are you scared of a little cold?”

“You scared of hypothermia?” Remus shot back.

“Oh, shut up,” Sirius said, but he was laughing too. “Inside pool, perhaps? There’s a skylight in there. We can leave the lights off, but we’ll still be able to see with the moon.”

“Yeah,” Remus said with a quiet smile. Sirius wasn’t exactly sure how a smile could be quiet, but it was another one of those unstoppable feelings where he was absolutely certain of himself, because Remus’s smile was quiet against his face. “I’d love that.”

So that’s what they did. While the moon shone through the roof and illuminated every crevice and dip in the building, Sirius and Remus jumped into the pool, splashing, laughing, shattering the silence and making the night their own without bothering to ask permission.

Sirius didn’t care anymore, about the nuance in the world, about the million questions he could ask. All he knew was that he was quite certain he’d never been this happy, splashing in a pool alongside Remus while the moon tried to worm its way through the ceiling. He could laugh with abandon and not worry in the slightest if his laugh was too loud, too annoying, because Remus was filling the room with a similar laugh that echoed off the enclosed walls of the pool.

This — Remus — this was something he didn’t want to overthink.

This could be.

Remus wasn’t afraid of saying what he thought. It was something Sirius had never been able to do, but it made him feel strangely secure, as though he wouldn’t have to worry about unconsciously being annoying.

Sirius also couldn’t swim for the life of him.

He had no idea what he was doing, and Remus laughed even more loudly as he floated along, paddling to try and keep himself out of the deep end, unmoored in more sense than just one, adrift in the water.

“Do you want help swimming?” Remus asked, amused as he watched Sirius float slowly away, crying out for mock-help as he neared the deep end.

“Please!” Sirius cried out, and Remus grabbed his arm, dragging him back towards shallow ground.

They stood there next to each other, and Remus shot him a sideways smile, one that made the coal inside Sirius light up fully, one that made him realize he wanted to hold onto Remus across mountains.

“Okay,” Remus said. “Obviously, as we’ve seen, you’re very skilled at floating on your back.”

“Oh, shove off,” Sirius grinned, splashing Remus with a handful of water that was pleasantly cool, the perfect temperature for swimming in his opinion. “No need to make fun of my excellent swimming abilities. I know you’re just jealous.”

“Right,” Remus snorted. “Float on your front.”

Sirius looked at him doubtfully and then pitched himself forwards, almost about to sink when he felt an arm underneath him. Steadying him. He looked over to see Remus nodding, a soft smile on his face that ignited the stupid coal inside of him again. Glowing, glowing, warming him from the inside and out again. He felt safe, as though Remus wouldn’t let him go — would never let him sink.

As the night wound on, Sirius could feel himself slipping farther and farther, to a place that felt dangerously close to a word he never wanted to say, a place that would never let him back out.

* * *

They fell into a strange rhythm — once or twice a week they’d sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to meet in the middle of the night. The rest of the days, James, Lily, Remus, and Sirius would walk to the park after, chatting aimlessly.

Unbelievably, Sirius wasn’t even jealous of James and Lily. Not anymore, because he was friends with Lily too — with the bright and bubbling way she spoke and laughed, with the way she wasn’t afraid of anything at all.

It was the full moon tonight as Remus sat on the side of the pool, looking up at the sprinkling of stars throughout the sky, looking up at the orb that hung heavy.

“It’s a full moon,” Sirius said lamely, stating the obvious.

“Well spotted.” Remus said it quietly, and there was something sad in his voice. Sirius looked over him, head cocked to the side, trying to see what it might be that brought that look over Remus’s face, the one that made it look like everything was collapsing.

He didn’t want to ask. Remus would tell him, if he wanted to.

He did.

“I’m not always happy,” Remus said quietly, eyes glued to the moon. Sirius wondered vaguely if there was a rule about staring at the moon too long, like there was for the sun.

“Most people aren’t.”

“I used to live by the full moon,” Remus said quietly. He dropped his head into his hands, tearing his gaze away from the heavy-hanging moon. “That’s how I kept going day after day. To see the next full moon. If a whole moon went by without me feeling even the tiniest spark of happiness, then I said — I told myself I could end things, then.”

Sirius just watched and listened, still against the night

“There was always something that made me smile. One second in one day. And I kept going. But there was one month…” he trailed off, looking away. “Well. My mother caught me before anything happened. That’s why she doesn’t like to let me out of her sight now.”

“Oh,” Sirius said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Remus shrugged.

“Is that — is that why the scars?” Sirius asked hesitantly. The last thing he wanted to do was to overstep when it seemed like Remus was finally okay with sharing.

Remus looked away, but he didn’t seem angry. Contemplative, perhaps.

“Yeah. I did it to myself and… well. I can’t let people see. My mother doesn’t know.”

Sirius let out a quiet hmm of thought, and he nodded. Nodded, because he understood — he had his own scars as well, scars that people asked far too many questions about whenever he went swimming, like it was somehow their business. Like it was their right to know. Sirius realized know that he’d been like one of those people, asking endless questions about Remus’s jumper, and he felt guilt spreading inside him.

“Do you still do that to yourself?”

Remus shook his head slowly, but it didn’t seem sure. Sirius waited — Remus responded to waiting best, he’d found, because prodding only seemed to make him curl up deeper into himself. It was like the silence gave him enough time to gather thoughts, to gather courage.

“I try not to,” he said at last. “It’s been a long time, and I don’t want to… to die anymore, per say. I just don’t always want to be here. And doing that… helps, sometimes.”

“I know,” Sirius said. He knew what it was like to want to disappear. He’d felt like he might be disappearing multiple times, holed up in his room when his family’s glances went right through him. He’d felt like he might actually be invisible. He used to wonder if he could make that his reality.

"I'm glad," Sirius said quietly. He felt shaky, he wanted to get away — but he couldn't, because this was about Remus. This wasn't about him. Not everything was about him, and he had to stop making it that way. He wasn't sure what it was, but everything was welling up in him again, stacked against him a million times too much.

For some reason, it felt like the universe was trying to build up walls between them, because Sirius could never be the support that Remus might need. He couldn't tell Remus the world would be okay when he wasn't sure he actually believed it himself. He tried to calm himself, but Remus seemed to notice his panic.

"I'm sorry," he said. He shifted against the tile. "I didn't - that was probably too much, wasn't it?"

"I — no, not at all," Sirius said quickly. Remus frowned at him.

“Talking, remember?" he said quietly. "You're going to have to tell me what you're thinking, because I can't read minds."

"I'm worried about you," Sirius blurted out. "I care about you, and I'm terrified that I'm only going to make things worse for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I have bad days too," Sirius sighed. "Worse than I've let you see, because I hate being — well. Completely open." Remus nodded slowly, and Sirius couldn't make out his expression through the dark, even with the full moon shining down on them and illuminating crevices in the floor. "What if we have bad days on the same day and I end up making things worse? What if I bring you back into a darker place because I don’t have a complete handle on myself, or what if —“

“Sirius,” Remus said, and there was something similar to a smile in his voice. “Shh. Don’t worry about it, I know how to look after myself.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. “But you can always talk to me. Listening — that much, I can do.”

* * *

The next day, seeing Remus, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hey Lily,” he said, as they lounged at the park. Remus was lying on his stomach in the grass, chin propped on his shoulder, book open in front of him. His curls flopped in front of his face every so often, obscuring his vision in a swirling curtain of auburn hair. “Want to walk with me?”

“Sure,” she said cheerfully, standing up from the bench. They walked for a minute, and then Sirius set himself down on the end of the slide, letting out a sigh that he couldn’t have kept in for a moment longer. “You alright?”

“I like Remus,” he said. He’d rehearsed the words zero times in his head — something he ordinarily would’ve done over and over, rethinking, overthinking, no idea if he would actually end up saying the words, but this time — this time they came spilling out of him without his permission.

“You — you like him?” she asked, eyes wide. Shocked. “As in, you fancy him?”

Sirius nodded miserably, head in his hands. His hair was running free down his back, and he wanted to rip it all off.  “Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. He could feel his face hot beneath the skin of his palms and he wanted the world to collapse in on him. For everything to vanish.

“Okay,” Lily said hesitantly, “So you like Remus.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said again. He looked up, and the heat in his face flashed through him in waves, uncomfortable and sticky.

“Have you told him?”

“Are you crazy?” Sirius exclaimed. “No! He doesn’t even know I’m — I’m…gay.” He said the word quietly, but it felt easier to say the second time around, like the word wasn’t so stuck in his mouth.

“I see,” Lily said quietly. “Why not?”

“He doesn’t like me that way. He doesn’t want a relationship. Us — we wouldn’t really work anyways. Our personalities just aren’t very…compatible, I guess. We don’t go together.”

“How do you figure?” Lily asked, and Sirius just shrugged.

“Well, I disagree,” she said. “I’ve never seen Remus as open with somebody after such a short time. He doesn’t even tell me much, and we’ve been friends for a long time. I’m only saying, you might have more of a chance than you think.”

“I can’t tell him, Lily,” Sirius said desperately. “I really like him. A lot. More than — I just like him, okay? I like him, and I can’t have him turn me down, because that’ll make things awkward and I can’t lose his friendship.”

“Sirius,” Lily said calmly. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but Remus isn’t the kind to turn down someone’s friendship if they ask him out, okay? I’m only saying, it’s hard to go wrong here.”

Her words echoed in his head.

It’s hard to go wrong here.

* * *

Sirius mulled what Lily had said over in his head so many times that the words blurred into each other. Even James noticed that he was in an entirely different world, and he himself wasn’t exactly paying attention, what with Lily now in the picture.

There came a point when Sirius couldn’t take it any longer, and he thought Lily might be right. Remus would be accepting. That was just Remus’s way.

Chapter Text

It was on one of their nighttime swims when Sirius finally broke — they were sitting by the side of the pool together and looking over the water, a sliver of moonlight filtering through.

“When I said I was jealous, it’s not…that’s not all,” Sirius said, quietly enough that he half-hoped Remus wouldn’t hear, that perhaps Remus would ignore the words he’d barely spoken. Of course, Remus wasn’t one to miss anything.

“Hmm?”

“I’m not — I might not be straight,” Sirius said under his breath, looking away. He said it even quieter, but again, Remus seemed to pick it up perfectly. He stopped. He froze in place and stared at Sirius.

“What?”

“I’m not into girls, actually,” Sirius said again, and his heart was higher than his throat, somewhere that he hadn’t even been aware of until this very second. “I’m gay. I haven’t — you’re the third person I’ve told.”

“I — oh,” Remus said quietly. “You know I would never judge you for that, right? I mean. I’m gay too.”

“I would have told you sooner,” Sirius said quietly. He still refused to face Remus, his eyes skittering over the surface of the pool and taking in small details he’d never have noticed before. “It’s just... I didn’t want you to overthink everything. Every smile or touch, wondering if it was gay or — or if it was because I fancied you.”

“I would never think that,” Remus insisted, and Sirius could feel his earnest gaze boring into the side of Sirius’s head, and it was making everything infinitely worse.

“Well. I do,” Sirius said bluntly. He had to get it out in the open. And now it was there, and there was silence in the pool.

A silence so complete that Sirius thought it might just be in his own mind, white noise wiping everything blank.

“So you were jealous because…” Remus trailed off. “That’s why you didn’t like Caradoc.” His foot had stilled in the water and he was staring straight down.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said again, because apologizing was the best way to go. “I didn’t want to make things weird, I really didn’t. I — well.”

“I’m not really looking for a relationship,” Remus said, equally quietly. It felt like every word they spoke set the volume bar lower and lower, like they had to speak quieter to keep up the silence that had overwhelmed them. “It’s not…” he trailed off again. His foot was still completely unmoving in the water.

“I know,” Sirius whispered. “But I thought it would just make things worse if I kept it secret. I had to. I don’t — I’m sorry, I’ve gone and made things weird.”

“You haven’t,” Remus said, and he looked at Sirius. “We’re still friends, Sirius. You know nothing can take that away, right? You’re one of my best friends, actually, if you still want to be. I’m sorry I can’t…it’s just, I really don’t think I’m the right person for relationships. It’s not my kind of thing. I wouldn’t be good for you, even if...”

“Okay,” Sirius said. He nodded to himself. Stood up, nodded to himself again, looked down at  the ground. “Yeah. Okay. I — I should probably be going.”

“No,” Remus said. He stood up too, toe trailing water across the concrete.

“No…?”

“Please don’t leave. You don’t actually have to go, do you?”

Sirius shrugged awkwardly, only knowing that there was an intense itching building up under his skin, telling him he needed to move. Itching and the feeling of worthlessness that seemed content to swamp him at every available opportunity.

You’re nothing, it told him. Remus would never want you. Your own family doesn’t even want you. All you do is work at a pool and watch the days go by. You accomplish nothing. You have nothing to offer. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

Remus sat down by the side of the pool and beckoned for Sirius to sit beside him. Sirius was torn, half of him yearning in each direction, wanting to give in to Remus and sit by his side but unable to move because he wanted to run away. He had to get out of this feeling, out of this skin, out out out. He could feel the awkwardness permeating every inch of the air, not matter how much Remus insisted that it wasn’t there, and he wanted it gone.

He wanted the easy quiet with Remus that he’d had before.

“I should probably leave,” Sirius said again, glancing desperately towards the door. Wondering if he should bolt and run off without another word. Would that make things worse? He couldn’t think clearly enough to decide.

“You can go if you really want, but are you just trying to avoid making things awkward between us by leaving? Because it’ll only make things worse for the next time we see each other.”

Sirius sat down and dropped his head into his hands, hiding from everything like Remus did behind books. Maybe that’s what he needed now.

“Can you tell me a story?” he asked suddenly, voice muffled against his skin.

A profound silence.

“What?” Remus sounded more surprised than anything. Perhaps slightly confused.

“A story, please. I need something to distract me because I feel completely ridiculous at the moment, and you’re good at stories, right?”

“Hey,” Remus said quietly. “Sirius. It’s okay. Really.”

“I know, I know. But. I need something to distract me.”

“Okay,” Remus said, and he didn’t laugh at Sirius, something that Sirius was immensely grateful for, because he couldn’t take ridicule at the moment when he already felt like a complete and utter fool. It had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have said anything. Worthless worthless worthless worthl—

“Once upon a time,” Remus began, and when Sirius looked up in the midst of a tale about fallen merpeople, he found Remus looking at him with a tiny glow in his eyes that could only be described as fond, and Sirius felt the coal in his stomach ease slightly, back to the warm pulsing that filled him top to bottom. Things, perhaps, could still be okay.

“I told him.” It’s the first thing Remus said to James when he clambered through the window like he was so used to doing. James was waiting for him, sitting cross-legged beside the windowsill and staring mindlessly at the TV.

“Hmm?” he asked, casting aside an empty chip bag that he’d be yelled at for later. By Effie, most likely.

Sirius vaguely wished he had somebody to yell at him about empty chip bags, and he realized how ridiculous that sounded when most people would wish the exact opposite. He tried to console himself with that thought, but it only made him feel worse. That’s how pathetic he was.

“I told Remus.”

James jumped to his feet at that and spun around, all thoughts of the crackling television abandoned. It sent a surge of warmth through Sirius to think that James cared about him like that, almost abating the previous smolder of disappointment. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up in the first place, that was the whole problem.

He should have known.

“Well?” James demanded impatiently. “What happened?”

“He’s not into me,” Sirius frowned, looking down at the floor. “But it wasn’t worst-case scenario, either. We’re still friends. It isn’t as awkward as I’d expected.”

He paused, and James tilted his head to the side, waiting for more and not pushing, because he knew it would come on Sirius’s own time.

“He told me a story because I was being awkward and needed a distraction,” Sirius said, scrunching his nose up in sudden embarrassment and collapsing to the floor, all his energy gone from him. “It was…kind of adorable, actually. But nothing’s going to happen, so. I guess it’s better that I know, because now I don’t have more time to get my hopes up. It’s not like I really expected anything to happen, it just…”

“Sucks,” James finished when Sirius trailed off and seemed like he wasn’t about to finish his sentence anytime soon. “Yeah. It really does. I’m sorry.” He pulled a face and sat back down on the ground next to where Sirius had let himself collapse. “You okay?”

There was more behind the question, because James knew rejection wasn’t an easy thing for him, and Sirius shrugged. There was no point lying.

“Yeah,” he said tentatively. “But it just sucks. Like you said. We’re still friends, at least. I want that.”

“Well, I’m glad. Wanna watch a movie until we die of sleep deprivation?”

“Absolutely,” Sirius said, and he sat down, letting the TV blare into him and trying not to think too much lest it ruin his state of relative calm.

The next few weeks past in a state of strange continuity. The pool during the day — where he talked with Remus, smiled, and tried not to pine. Afterwards, when they’d visit the park together, the four of them. The nighttimes, when there were three options — returning to his home where he’d cower in his home and do his best not to let it get to him, staying at James’s, which he wanted to do every night but he felt like he was imposing on their household, or going swimming with Remus by the light of the moon, laughing and talking and wishing, wishing, wishing.

It was a constant few weeks, but that didn’t mean it was boring. In fact, it was nearly the opposite. Sirius was certain that he would be happy to spend the rest of his life in this cycle, with Remus and James and the rising and setting of the moon.

It wasn’t until late one night when something changed. When he left his house, he thought he heard someone behind him, but when he looked all he could see was the house, with its dusty state and peeling walls. He got to the pool early that night and waited by the side. The moon was waning, the night cool, everything around him feeling a little stilted.

And then he saw Remus. Framed in the doorway, his hair a fascinating silhouette with stray curls sticking out and emphasizing the complete dark of the night, only the moon shining around him. Streaks of light. Streaks of silver.

“Remus?” he said. Remus was still standing there. It was hard to see from his silhouette, but it looked like he was staring at Sirius, eyes locked on target.

And then he was walking. Walking towards Sirius, not looking like he was about to stop. Closer and closer he got, and now he wasn’t just a silhouette, because Sirius could see the textures, the forms, the even planes and lines and curves that made up every inch of his form. Remus still hadn’t spoken a word, and he was almost at Sirius.

“Wha—?”

His question was cut off into a hitch of breath, something that was drawn into the silence of the room and no longer mattered, because Remus still hadn’t stopped. He was pushing Sirius against the wall of the pool, as strong as he’d looked when he was swimming, and now they were pressed chest to chest and Sirius had forgotten all essential life functions. He couldn’t blink, couldn’t breath, couldn’t speak.

“Shhh,” Remus said, so so quietly. Volume didn’t matter either. All that mattered was how close Remus was to him, close enough that every miniscule shift of his body sent a rush of contact through Sirius.

And then he leaned in. Sirius hadn’t believed what was happening until now, because Remus was closer than he’d ever been to anybody in his life, and Sirius was already swamped — he felt ridiculous for it, but it was in every molecule of his body. Something so simple shouldn’t be able to take him over like this.

And then Remus was kissing him. It was feather-light, so soft that Sirius was almost certain he’d imagined it. Remus was just taller than him, bending down ever so slightly, curls brushing against Sirius’s skin in a way that sent shivers racing down him. When Remus pulled away, all Sirius could feel was the phantom ghost-touch of Remus’s lips against his own, like the echo of words in his brain after they’d just been spoken. All he knew was that he didn’t want it to end.

So he closed his eyes and kissed Remus again, clumsily. At first he was worried, wondering if he was doing this right, if maybe Remus had made a mistake, but that — that was ridiculous, and he was swept up in the feeling, unable to even comprehend his insecurities before they were washed away in the feeling of Remus. Remus’s arm wrapped around him, strong and secure, fingers splaying out against his back, and Sirius went weak at the knees. The coal in his stomach had blazed into a fire, licking through him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in forever, leaping at the tiny noise Remus let out.

“So this is where you’ve been going all these nights.”

Sirius froze, Remus’s arm still wrapped treacherously around him. For a split second, a moment of world-halting panic, he thought it was Remus speaking in that horrifying voice that spilled into nightmares where his family looked right through him while he died before their eyes.

And then he realized the truth, which was almost worse.

Regulus was standing there by the doorway, and the light around him wasn’t beautiful. Ominous would be more accurate, shining like a beacon over Remus, who was still pressed against him, heart thumping erratically.

“Regulus,” Sirius breathed, pushing Remus away quickly and not meeting Remus’s eyes, because he didn’t need the distraction of emotion just now.

Regulus didn’t speak. He stepped into the room, eyebrows raised in Remus’s direction.

“Really?” he asked. “Him?”

“Regulus, it isn’t what it looks like, we weren’t —”

“Save it.” Regulus spat on the ground in front of him. “You weren’t even subtle in sneaking out. Where did you think this would go? You’d fuck your secret boyfriend in the middle of the night and nobody would know? Mother and Father won’t be too pleased, I imagine.”

“They won’t know about it,” Sirius said defiantly, but there was no way for him to keep the quaver out of his voice.

“They will,” Regulus said stonily, and there was no changing his mind when he got like this. Not for all the money in the world. He refused to listen to the whims of other people. “This has gone far enough.”

“It wasn’t him,” Remus said hurriedly. “He didn’t want to do this, I forced him to and —”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Regulus snarled before Sirius could even open his mouth. “How admirable, trying to protect your secret faggot boyfriend. Aren’t you precious? If I were you, Sirius, I’d run.”

And then he vanished. Without another word, barely with a movement. Sirius was left standing frozen. He went limp equally quickly, sagging to the floor and staring out over the water. Shutting down. Shutting down. Shutting. Down.

“Sirius?”

He couldn’t get words out. Remus didn’t seem to mind.

“You aren’t going home tonight,” Remus murmured. “You’re going to come back to my house, okay? You can kip in my room. I’ll sleep on the sofa if you’re more comfortable with that. It doesn’t matter, but you aren’t going back to your house. Not tonight, not ever if I can help it.”

The words weren’t helping. Sirius wanted to move. Wanted to get away away away.

Remus looked at him helplessly and drew in another breath. “Do you feel ready to walk? We can go to my house now, sneak in through my window. I’m on the ground floor, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

Sirius couldn’t do it.

“Sirius, you need to talk to me.”

Sirius couldn’t. It didn’t matter what Remus needed. He couldn’t talk, because there were no words left. No words to get stuck in his throat. Nothing. He was empty, down to the soles of his feet.

He stood up. Numb. Bland. The coal was gone, because he was empty. It was over. They started walking. Sirius couldn’t feel his feet. He didn’t care.

The night was dark. Cold. Footsteps, worried, beside him. Footsteps beneath him. Cold. Dark.

“James,” he bit out finally. “Go to James.” He turned down the side street, zombie-like, his eyes frozen in his skull as he walked, vision coalescing in one blur that he couldn’t get rid of. He walked to James’s house where he clambered through the window, Remus behind him.

James started when they slipped in through the window, whipping his head around to stare at them incredulously, unbelieving.

“What —?” he started, and then appeared to see Sirius. “Fuck.”

Remus stood by helplessly as James gently helped Sirius to the bed, covering him in a blanket. Sirius didn’t feel anything. He was beyond feeling.

“I need you to tell me what happened, and then you can leave,” James said quietly. Or maybe he said it louder, but everything was fading, fading, fading.

“I kissed him,” Remus said, and where there might have been a hint of embarrassment earlier, he seemed to realize this was beyond that. “And someone saw. Regulus, he said it was.”

“Shit,” James swore. “Yeah. That’s his brother.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Remus asked quietly, and Sirius felt himself slowly leaving the conversation, the world, the physical. His head lolled to the side, and it was uncomfortable but comforting all the same, because he was finally falling asleep. Asleep, asleep, asleep.

“No,” came James’s voice vaguely. “You can go home.”

“I’m not leaving him.” It was the last thing Sirius heard before the world spun out of his vision and he succumbed to a place where he could dream without consequence.

* * *

Sirius woke up in James’s bed the next day to find Remus sitting beside him with a steaming cup of tea.

“Hey,” Remus said quietly, a tiny concerned smile on his face. He set the book down beside him after carefully sliding a bookmark into the pages. “You’re awake.”

The night flooded back to Sirius all at once, and somehow the only thing he could think about was the person sitting in front of him. Remus with that tiny smile, with the cup of tea that was sending plumes of steam to curl through the air.

“You — was it a dream?” he asked quietly, bringing his hand up to his lips and looking at Remus with a tilt to his head. “Did you — did you kiss me?”

Remus looked extremely uncomfortable at that, and he sat back in his chair, shifting so the wicker dug into his skin. From where Sirius was sitting it looked like it must hurt, but Remus didn’t even seem to notice. He was staring down at the carpet. There was nothing interesting there, Sirius knew, and it was disconcerting to see the complete upset in his expression.

“Yeah…” he said hesitantly, and he looked away. He refused to meet Sirius’s eyes.

“You regret it,” Sirius said quietly. He could sense something was wrong and as always, his mind jumped to what he thought was the worst possible scenario.

Remus jerked his head up.

“I — no. Yes. No. I don’t know, and I shouldn’t be saying this, and I wasn’t going to say this but now I am… fucking hell,” he trailed off, looking desperately over at the book.

Sirius felt his stomach sinking. Compressing.

“Just explain,” he said, and everything about the way he said it was weighted with an upheaval of complete exhaustion. “Don’t dance around it, okay? I can’t take that right now.”

“I wasn’t thinking properly,” Remus said after a short pause. He looked away. “I can’t do relationships. I can’t — I can’t be…” he hesitated. Glanced down again. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can do a relationship. I’m so sorry Sirius, I really am. I didn’t — this is the worst timing possible.”

Sirius nodded. He had no room in his brain to argue, no room in his heart. He had no room anywhere for more hope, and no energy for exhaustion. For rejection. James walked into the room then, stifling a yawn and looking between Remus and Sirius. He froze. Frowned. His forehead creased.

“You didn’t — for fuck’s sake, Remus, you didn’t tell him now did you? He’s just learned that his family knows he’s gay, and you — Jesus Christ, I thought I was dense.”

Remus looked at Sirius frantically.

“I’m so sorry,” he said desperately, but Sirius laughed drily and shook him off.

“Can we forget this?” he asked. “James, I can’t stay here forever.”

“Yes you can,” James said firmly. “I’ve already asked Mum. She’s not going to let you go back.”

Sirius froze.

“What?”

As though she’d been summoned by the words, Effie came bustling up the stairs with a tray of food in front of her. She smiled warmly at Sirius, and all of a sudden his eyes felt rather wet. He looked away, wiped his eyes against his sleeve.

“Here you go Sirius, dear,” she said, setting the tray down next to him. “You all, out for a moment. James, show your guest downstairs and get some breakfast for him, yeah?”

James did as he was told, and Effie took a seat next to Sirius on the bed.

“Sirius, darling, can you tell me what happened? James told me briefly, but I’d rather hear it from you.” She patted his leg kindly and smiled at him. “Only if you’re ready, of course.”

Sirius broke. He broke down entirely, tears soaking the sheets as he told Effie everything, about Remus, about being gay, about how his parents had ignored him like he was worthless, about how he was worthless to Remus too now, about how his life was falling apart like before.

“Oh, Sirius,” Effie said with a small smile. “I’m sorry. Things seem to be going wrong now, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Sirius snuffled, wiping his nose and heaving sigh. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Things are going to get better, love,” she said fondly. “I promise you that. We’re getting you away from that family, alright?”

Sirius couldn’t speak. She seemed to understand.

“And Sirius. Sirius, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

“I know, in theory,” Sirius sighed.

“I dated a few birds in my time,” Effie said conspiratorially, winking at Sirius. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You did?” Sirius asked, and his heart eased slightly.

* * *

Sirius didn’t leave James’s room for the rest of the week. Even with kind words and comforting presences on all sides, he’d fallen into a pit that he had no clue how to come out of, no matter that all his friends were standing on the top and trying to coax him out. He wanted out. He just didn’t know how.

“Hey,” Remus said, coming upstairs with a smile and a bowl of soup in his hands. He held it out, and Sirius took it with a murmured thanks, all he could seem to manage. He wasn’t sure exactly what was eating away at him the most — perhaps a combination of everything. His family, Remus, the world, his brain.

“I made it myself,” Remus said with a grin. “Mrs. Potter helped me out a little because I’m hopeless in the kitchen, but I must say it’s rather good.”

Sirius took a small spoonful of the soup. He wondered if this was Remus’s way to get him eating, something he hadn’t been able to manage particularly well for the last few days. If so, it was working, because the smile on Remus’s face was enough to make the soup sit warm in his stomach.

“It’s good,” he said quietly.

“Thanks,” Remus laughed, taking a seat on the edge of Sirius’s bed. Sirius hated how the proximity still affected him, how the air still felt electric. Static. Charged. He hated that his stomach did flips when he already knew from experience that Remus and himself was a hopeless prospect. Remus had practically told him so, even though Sirius hadn’t been able to get that moment at the pool out of his mind — Remus’s mouth, so soft and gentle. Like he cared about Sirius. Like he was treasuring the moment. Savoring it, holding on to it and keeping it close.

But he did his best to forget, because remembering was doing him no good except to dig the hole further. Friends, he reminded himself, was still good enough for now. He could live with friends.

“Hey Sirius?” Remus said quietly, fussing with the edge of the blanket, twisting it around his finger gently and glancing up at Sirius where he was quietly eating his bowl of soup.

“Hey Remus?”

“I know I apologized before, but I’m sorry that I got you caught and then… well. I’m sorry for everything. I feel like I’ve only showed you how bad of a person I can be.”

Sirius cocked his head to the side and shrugged. “I haven’t been perfect myself.”

“I know,” Remus said. “I wish I could make it up to you though. I want to apologize, and I don’t know how to do it. I kept ignoring you and I’m not — I haven’t had a friend like you before? And I don’t really know how to do it, and I keep messing it up.”

“Remus,” Sirius said quietly, looking over at him and resting his bowl of soup on his lap. It was too hot against his skin, so he set it down on the blanket — a pleasant warmth, running through him and all the way to his core. “You’ve sat here with me for two days, and you made me a bowl of soup, and you’re…” he trailed off. He could have kept talking, but he would have said too much eventually. He would have let on just how much he actually liked Remus. So he stopped talking then and shrugged, cutting it off.

“I don’t know,” Remus said, closing his eyes.

“You’re a good friend, Remus. I promise you that. We’ve both made mistakes, but you’ve been there for me, and you still are, and, well, I’m kind of pathetic at the moment. Can’t even get out of my bed.” He took a deep breath and let it out again.

“Not pathetic,” Remus reassured him. “I’ve been there. I think everyone’s been there at some point.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said doubtfully. “Anyways, you have no reason to apologize, because you’re one of my best friends.”

“Okay,” Remus said, and he was looking down at the blankets with an expression Sirius couldn’t decipher, He didn’t think he was supposed to decipher it, because it wasn’t aimed at him.

“But,” Sirius said, more lighthearted now. Trying to clear the air that he felt like he’d clogged up somehow, with murky words that could be taken as something more. His mouth felt slow, as though it was almost too much effort to get the words out. Somehow he’d forgotten his exhaustion in the face of Remus’s doubt, but it came back now, lashing out with full force, and his words felt used up. “I’m tired of talking. Could — do you want to watch a movie? If you don’t have to go, of course, because you can definitely go if you want but —”

“Shut up,” Remus said, smiling at him. He hoisted himself further onto the bed, leaning back and propping a pillow up behind him. He was even closer to Sirius now, and the proximity felt like it was physically reaching out to him, like droplets of rain against his skin. “What do you want to watch?”

He grabbed the remote from James’s bedside table, flipping through the channels.

“Horror?” Sirius proposed with a tiny smile. Somehow, when he was in one of these states, horror movies helped. Maybe it was the irresistable anticipation, something that shocked him out of complete exhaustion. Remus shivered next to him.

“Really?” he asked, sounding pained. “Horror?”

“You don’t like horror?”

“I don’t like being scared just for the sake of it, no! But I can withstand it if that’s really what you want.” It seemed like he was speaking only half in jest, and Sirius laughed anyways.

“I don’t really care what we watch,” he murmured, his words getting more and more slurred as his voice trailed away. Too much effort all at once. “Anything you want.”

“Alright,” Remus said. A few minutes later he landed on a horror movie, grinning over at Sirius. “It’s your funeral.”

So they sat there side by side as the movie ran, Sirius’s bowl of soup still warm against him, the broth sending curls of steam up and around his face, the movie flashing blood and terror around him. Remus shrieked and clung to the blankets throughout it, eventually burying his head against Sirius’s side in a way that made Sirius ache.

He so badly wanted to wrap his arm around Remus, to pull him closer, to fall asleep entangled with blankets and limbs and the scent of Remus, warmth curling around him and feeling the rise and fall of Remus as he slipped off. But that wasn’t something he could have. So instead he stayed as still as he could, resisting the urge to card his fingers through Remus’s hair and careful not to disturb him.

By the time the movie ended, Remus’s breathing had evened out in a way that told Sirius he’d fallen asleep. He shifted quietly, and lay Remus gently down on the bed, drawing just enough energy to slip out so he could bring the bowl of soup downstairs.

It felt strange to walk. His limbs felt weak, as though his muscles had been eaten away during the time he’d spent lying in James’s bed, unable to bring himself to motion. But it also felt good, like he was still alive. Still a human being.

Somehow, he had a strange calm energy, and he loaded the dishwasher and set it running, scrubbing down the rest of the kitchen. It felt good to be useful. He didn’t want Effie to hate him already, useless and floundering as he’d been.

At that moment James walked into the kitchen.

“Sirius!” he exclaimed happily. “You’re up!”

“Yeah,” Sirius said with a small smile, and he couldn’t resist. He threw himself at James, hugging him, holding on for dear life, and James hugged him back. All-encompassing. Warm. “I was watching a movie with Remus, but he fell asleep.”

James nodded slowly, looking mildly concerned, and Sirius could read this thoughts. James was worried about Remus, that it would hurt too much and throw Sirius back into a place he couldn’t stand.

But Sirius thought he could stand it.

“S’okay,” he murmured to James, wanting to reassure him that it was nothing. “Don’t worry. I’m okay.”

“Are you?” James asked, holding him at an arm’s length and looking at him in that way that felt so piercing. “You sure?”

Sirius shrugged. “I’m — I don’t have to go back to my family,” he said uncertainly. “That’s — that’s good, I guess.”

James shook his head vigorously. “They aren’t your family,” he said immediately. “We’re your family, Sirius. Me, Mum and Dad, Lily, Remus…we’re your family, yeah?”

“I guess…” Sirius said. He looked around him, at the kitchen that was now clean, at the pictures on the wall and the couch that he’d sat on a million times, worn out cushions that felt a million times more royal than the silk at home. He wanted to stay here for the rest of his life, alongside James and Remus.

He tried not to think about how much of a burden he already was, on Effie and Fleamont, on James and Remus. He could still give back.

“So,” he said, sitting down on the couch. “Tell me about Lily.”

James’s immediate response was to run a hand through his hair and grin over at Sirius, and then he ran his hand through his hair again until it was sticking up in all directions — artfully messy, as James liked to claim. Sirius always went along with it.

“She’s amazing, mate,” James said quietly. “She’s even better than me at swimming, which I didn’t think was possible until now. And she’s funny and she puts up with me and… and I’m serious, I think I might love her, even though that sounds stupid.”

“You’re not serious, I am,” Sirius said, unable to resist the sheer opportunity in front of him. It was an obligation really, a joke he had to make whenever the word serious came into conversation.

“Oh, shut up,” James grinned.

“Well, I’m really happy for you,” Sirius said, and he genuinely felt it. Seeing James grin like that when he so much as mentioned her name made him happy. “She’s one lucky person, I’ll say that much.”

James gave him a half-fond, half-surprised smile.

“You kidding? I’m the lucky one.”

“Hey,” Sirius said, frowning at him in that way that James had done to him so many times. It was strange to be comforting James after all the time of it being flipped the other way around, but it felt good. “James. Don’t doubt yourself for one second, you hear me?”

James just shook his head and smiled.

“I think I’m starting to rub off on you.”

They sat there in silence together, so easy, so full. Sirius could barely understand how he’d gotten so lucky to have James, Remus, and Lily in his life.

“Should I go check on Remus?” Sirius asked after a moment, looking up at the stairs, and James shrugged.

“He’s fine, I don’t think you need to check on him. You want to play a game or something? I’m bored.”

“Sure,” Sirius shrugged, yawning widely. “Why not?”

“Oh, and I think Lily might come by later too, if that’s okay. After swimming.”

Sirius nodded, letting out another yawn and watching as James made his way over to the game cabinet, frowning slightly as he did so. There had been something nagging at the back of his mind earlier, and now it hit him. The thing he’d been missing.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be at the pool? I don’t want you to give up your job because of me, I’m fine here, really.”

“Nah, don’t worry,” James said, waving his hand. “I put in a word with Moody and he gave us a couple days off. Peter’s still there, and they asked Benjy to cover for a few days while you recover. Neither of us lost our jobs. Enough talking, I’m about to beat you at Scrabble and I can’t have my concentration being disrupted.”

“Of course you can’t,” Sirius said with a roll of his eyes, and he settled onto the couch and stopped talking.

* * *

Sure enough, Lily stopped by later towards the evening when the lights were finally low. Remus was still asleep, curled up around a blanket in James’s room, and Sirius was still fiercely playing James in a game of Scrabble that he was determined not to loose.

“Hey,” she said with a smile when she stepped through the door. James ran a hand through his hair — his fingers caught and he had to tug them loose, looking flustered.

“Hey,” he said.

“You feeling better?” she asked Sirius, who was sat beside the couch, staring down at the Scrabble tiles and wishing he could find the pattern. He was always fiercely competitive when it came to playing against James.

“Slightly,” Sirius said with a wry smile.

“I’m glad.” Lily plopped down beside him, and she rearranged his tiles quickly to spell tibia before winking at him and turning back to James. In his starstruck mode, he hadn’t even noticed.

“Is Remus still here?”

“Yeah, he fell asleep upstairs while we were watching a movie,” Sirius snorted. He smiled. He couldn’t help it, when he remembered Remus hiding his face and burrowing into Sirius’s side, breath warm and blanket wrapped around him like a cloak.

“I’m going to go see if he’s still asleep,” Lily said with a yawn. “I’ll be back down in a minute, you two can keep playing your game.” With another wink at Sirius and a nod towards the tiles, she clambered up the stairs towards James’s bedroom. James was still watching her with an awestruck look, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck. Sirius smiled secretly, looking down at the tiles.

“You know what?” he asked, grinning at James. “I very much approve. Good choice in girlfriend.”

James punched him and laughed. “I’m almost glad you’re gay,” he sighed. “I don’t have to worry about Lily leaving me for you.”

Sirius just laughed.

When Lily still hadn’t come downstairs five minutes later, and James kept glancing anxiously up towards the ceiling where they were on the opposite side. Sirius volunteered to go check on them. He hurried up the stairs, following in Lily’s footsteps that he could still see because of the direction of the strings on the carpet, tailored to the shape of her foot.

He paused in the hallway outside, his position only betrayed by the creaking of the floor beneath him.

There were voices coming from inside the room, and they didn’t sound happy. Almost urgent, quiet but fierce. Sirius had the sudden urge to turn around and go back downstairs, because this wasn’t for him to hear. But the voices had rooted him in place.

“Remus, you can’t —”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do!” Remus hissed. “I don’t want this, and you have to stop trying to force it on me!”

“I’m not forcing it on you,” Lily huffed. “It’s your decision. But I think the reason you keep saying no is because you’re scared, and if you’re going to waste an opportunity like this because you’re scared —”

“Lily.”

“Remus. I’m serious. You like him.”

“It doesn’t matter if I like him, I can’t do commitment,” Remus said back sharply. “That’s too hard for me. I’ll end up ruining it because I’m afraid of being tied down, and then I’ll hurt him and then we won’t even be friends.”

“Remus —”

“Stop.”

Sirius turned. Something about the tone of Remus’s voice unstuck him from where he felt like he’d been weighed down, leaden chains holding him to the floor no matter how much he wanted to struggle. But now he was fleeing, steps lighter than air, as though he was on the moon. He came to a seat next to James with emotions and thoughts writhing through him as though they were real beings that had come to live in his soul.

James looked at him in confusion.

“Did something happen?”

“They were talking…” Sirius trailed off. “Actually, arguing kind of. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Ah,” James said quietly.

Sirius could still barely think, because the only thing running through his mind was that they might have been talking about him. He didn’t want to think about what that might mean. It was dangerous, more dangerous than he could even anticipate. That would lead to other dangerous thoughts that he had no need for.

When Lily finally came back downstairs, forehead furrowed, she tried to wipe the worry off her face when she saw Sirius and James staring at her.

“He’s awake,” she said with a smile that was just the wrong side of cheerful. “Just woke up. It might have been my fault actually.”

“I’m going to go check on him,” Sirius said abruptly, standing up, because even though Remus set him aflame and set butterflies alight throughout his stomach and chest and throat, he couldn’t keep himself away. He could never stay away.

“Okay,” James shrugged. “Lily, you can take his place if you want,” he said, gesturing to the stack of tiles in front of where Sirius had been sitting. “You’ll never win against me, I can promise you that much.”

“Is that a challenge?” Lily smirked, all of her worries seemingly assuaged, and she took a seat across from James.

Sirius climbed up the stairs, glaring down at his footprints that were still stuck there from a moment ago. He glared, but Remus’s voice was still stuck firmly in his head. It doesn’t matter if I like him, the voice said, in that unwavering way that was so distinctly Remus. Sirius could picture it even from here.

When Sirius knocked quietly on the door, Remus’s voice came back tired and raspy, and somehow it still sent a thrill through Sirius just to hear him speak, the ragged honey of his voice.

“Come in,” he said, and Sirius pushed the door open with his knuckles, peering around the side to see Remus sitting up with his back propped against a pillow. “Sorry I stole your bed,” he said with a half-laugh. “Although it’s good to see you up.”

Sirius shrugged, and took a seat next to him on the bed. It creaked underneath him.

“S’not my bed,” he murmured, looking down at the wrinkled sheets and then up at Remus. He looked — just looked, taking in his features and the way he was looking back. He wanted to ask what they’d been talking about, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was done playing this game. The ball was in Remus’s court now, and he could do with it what he wanted, because Sirius wasn’t about to make a fool of himself again. He’d gone out on a limb too many times to do that anymore.

Remus yawned and rubbed at his eyes.

“How are you, anyways?”

“Okay,” Sirius shrugged. Goosebumps were popping up along his skin, and he slid his legs under the covers, pulling them up tight around him.

“I’m glad,” Remus said.

“Tell me a story?” Sirius asked quietly, the kind of thing that Remus could pretend he hadn’t heard if he didn’t feel up to it. But instead he grinned, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Sirius, hair falling in front of his eyes.

“What kind of story do you want?”

“Anything,” Sirius yawned, burrowing into his pillow and letting his eyes fall closed. He pulled the blanket even closer around him, wrapping himself up tight enough that it felt like a second skin. He felt warm, better than he had at all in the past week, with Remus by his side and everyone else supporting him. He felt loved — he wasn’t sure if he deserved it at all, because he was practically worthless — but he felt loved nonetheless.

He almost felt like he was cheating, lying here and doing nothing. Maybe he’d been faking it. Maybe he’d been able to get out of bed this whole time, and instead he’d imposed himself on them, a burden more than anything. Maybe he was exaggerating about his family, maybe he could go back any day he wanted.

Maybe they’d realize soon that he had nothing to offer to the world.

He didn’t understand why anybody would want to be friends with him.

But then Remus started talking.

“Imagine you’re on a lake. It’s the middle of spring, and the water is still icy cold, pieces of frozen snow floating their way around you as you paddle upstream. There’s still a frosty feel in the air, but the sun is starting to poke through the clouds, and leaves are starting to unfurl after so much time spent closed up. The world feels brand new. This is where the story starts.”

* * *

The next day, Sirius was bedridden again. He was numb, although it felt like less than numb. He wasn’t just numb, he was empty, as though there was nothing left inside his skin. He couldn’t move even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t.

Even his fingers were frozen still — moving one seemed like a chore beyond anything he was capable of, and when Effie came upstairs to check on him, all Sirius could manage was a weak noise before he closed his eyes again.

He wasn’t asleep. He wasn’t sure if he was tired — wasn’t sure if there was enough left inside of him to be tired. But his eyes were closed, a million pinpricks swimming in front of them. Sirius wished there was a way that all he could see was pure black, that he wouldn’t have to see this array of colors. Even that felt like too much.

“Hey.” The voice was quiet, and when Sirius mustered the energy to open his eyes, he saw Remus sitting there beside the bed. He looked more worried than most days, and Sirius assumed Effie had said something about how still he was, about how he could barely move from this position. Sirius made another noise in the back of his throat.

Speaking was a luxury he couldn’t afford at the moment.

“Mrs. Potter said you weren’t doing so well today,” Remus said softly, and he had a book resting on his lap. “Said you couldn’t really talk at the moment.”

“Mmm.”

“Do you want me to read you a story?” Remus asked, and even though it was a simple enough question, judging by the book on his lap, it felt like something more. Sirius couldn’t imagine what the more was, all he knew was that it felt bigger than what he actually said.

“Mmm,” Sirius said again, trying to convey the affirmative with as few movements as he could. He knew moving might help him snap out of the place he was in, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He couldn’t. Not today. Today, that was too much.

“Okay,” Remus said hesitantly. “I brought a book.”

Sirius looked over at it — moving his eyes instead of his head, because it was simpler all around. It didn’t look like a book. Instead it looked like a binder, the kind that might contain recipes instead of a story, but Sirius brushed it off. Maybe Remus had printed the book out, or something else like that.

And so he started to read.

“A long time ago, the Kingdom was dark. Everywhere they went was darkness, shadow, so dark that when they closed their eyes it seemed the same world. They lived on touch alone, on smell and taste and the sounds around them. “

As Remus read, Sirius relaxed into the bed, letting this new place surround him with tales of the darkness, of a sun born from magic that was given up to bring light into the world, of an Elder council that turned evil, a sorcerer named Terun who stole magic from the light, and a group of Hunters that weren’t exactly human.

It was a fascinating story, and Sirius sunk into it instantly, reveling in the twists and turns that the story took with every minute Remus read on.

When they got to an especially interesting part, where the main character was about to meet a Hunter, Remus paused. Sirius thought he might have lost his spot, so he waited a moment without saying anything, eyes still blissfully closed, and still entwined with tales from a distant land that didn’t exist. But Remus didn’t continue.

Sirius opened his eyes then, and tilted his head slightly to meet Remus’s gaze. There was a flush high on his cheeks, and for some reason he was staring down at the page without moving.

“You okay?” Sirius asked, finally — finally able to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, to pry open his jaw and let his thoughts out.

“I —” Remus coughed, and it sounded fake, like it was just a way to cover his confusion of some kind. “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine. I’m going to grab a glass of water and I’ll be back in a minute.”

Sirius waited patiently. Maybe if he’d been more awake, he would have looked closer at the binder, where red lines of pen marked up the pages. But he was so tired as it was that he closed his eyes instead, smiling softly when Remus’s footsteps came quietly padding into the room.

“Okay,” Remus said. There was the sound of rifling paper. It was a sound Sirius knew intimately well from the amount of time he’d spent watching Remus read, listening to him thumb at the corner of his books. “Where was I?”

“The Hunter,” Sirius murmured, and Remus coughed again at that.

“Right,” he said, and he sounded embarrassed for some reason, but he continued to read. “There was rain everywhere, cascading over branches and sliding down the waxen leaves, plodding against the ground. It was then that the Hunter lowered his cloak — pure black, not even a speckle of rain in sight from the way that it seemed to put out all light.

“The Hunter had black hair too, tied up behind him — for practicality, Terun assumed. Despite the legends about him that stretched back century upon century, about the terror and horror that lurked beneath the cloak, the Hunter was strikingly beautiful. Young, too, without a wrinkle on his face to betray wether or not he’d really been around for as long as the stories claimed.

“Terun felt his jaw drop as he gazed at the Hunter, and he closed it quickly, not wanting to give away his awe. He was magical. He should be beyond something as shallow as looks, especially when it came to a being like the Hunter.”

That’s when Remus paused to take a drink of water. He kept reading, spinning tales, and it almost sounded like one of his own, one of the stories he’d told to Sirius before when they were both tired. Whenever he got to the Hunter, Sirius could feel a pause — could feel Remus’s gaze on him a second before he continued reading.

The words blurred together, and eventually Sirius dropped into sleep.

* * *

The next day, Sirius got out of bed immediately. Things felt brighter, in an opposite sense to the world outside. Outside it was grey and raining, something that coaxed a smile onto Sirius’s face from the moment he woke up.

“I’m going back to the pool tomorrow,” he told James resolutely. “I’m done being depressed. I can’t let myself spiral like this. I don’t care if it takes me an hour to get out of bed, because I’m going back to the pool either way.”

“Okay,” James said brightly. “Should I call Benjy then, or do you want to hold off until tomorrow?”

“Call him,” Sirius said determinedly. “Let him know.” And so James did.

Chapter Text

Sirius got to the pool earlier than he expected, earlier than he got there even when he hadn’t dug himself into such a hole. He was determined not to flake again, confident that this could get him back on track. Remus had showed up early too, because Sirius asked if he could help force him to get out of bed, even though he hadn’t needed the help he thought he might.

The two of them lounged at the counter. Sirius started reorganizing files — Benjy always put them in weirdly — and Remus sat on the counter to watch him, book sitting next to him.

“Are you still reading that one from yesterday?” Sirius asked curiously, pausing his shuffling to look over at the book cover for a moment.

“Er — well, I thought maybe I’d save it for if you ever wanted to read it again.”

“Really?” Sirius said, thrilled, and something about Remus sharing books with him welled up inside Sirius with a warmth he thought he might never be able to get used to.

“Only if you want,” Remus said hurriedly. “Did you like it? Was it any good?”

“Are you kidding me?” Sirius blurted out. He’d forgotten all about the files, and they were lying abandoned in front of him. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since you left, actually. There’s something about the Hunter, and I can’t tell what it is. I have a feeling — I don’t know why, but I have this feeling that there’s something more to him. And the sun! The whole mystery with the light, it’s like the answer is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t reach it. I love it.”

“Do you really like it that much?” Remus asked. Again, Sirius had that odd feeling that the question meant something more, but he had no clue why.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “I love it. Who’s the author? You’re going to have to read my some more by whoever it is.”

“Er…” Remus trailed off. “I looked him up actually, this is the only book he’s written so far.”

“No, really?” Sirius asked, dismayed. “Ah, well.”

“He might write something else soon,” Remus said slowly. “There are rumors that he has another book in the works.”

“I hope so,” Sirius said emphatically. “Can you read me some more today? You can come over to James’s, or we could go to the park if you want.”

“Park is fine,” Remus said with a grin. He sounded almost giddy. “I don’t want to bother Mrs. Potter too much, I’ve been there almost every day for the past week.”

“Okay,” Sirius said with a shrug, trying not to dwell on his own worry about bothering Effie.

“After swimming, then?” Remus asked, shifting.

“After swimming,” Sirius agreed. “Maybe James and Lily’ll come with us. They can go make out on the playground while we read or something, or whatever they do.” Remus pulled a face, jumping down off the counter.

“I really didn’t need that image in my head,” he said, pretending to choke.

Sirius grinned.

* * *

The park was abandoned again, and Sirius sprawled himself across the bench so that there wasn’t even enough room for Remus, who set himself down on the woodchips and looked up at Sirius through a curl of hair, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“You’re the worst,” he said with a laugh, and Sirius grinned down at him.

“I know,” he said. “You gonna read or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, patience,” Remus said with mock exhaustion, rolling his eyes again. He flipped open the binder — Sirius still had no idea why it was in a binder — and he started to read. The story of the Hunter and Terun slowly revealed itself.

The Hunter wasn’t who he appeared to be after all — the main character had refused to believe the Hunter could be good because of his reputation from the Legends, because of the stories where he picked off villagers one by one. But finally, painstakingly slowly, he started to understand that this Hunter was strange. This Hunter was different than the rest — he wasn’t anything like the others.

It reminded Sirius strangely of Remus and himself, of how Remus had been so sure he was a bad person because of his family’s reputation, how he’d slowly come to realize that Sirius wasn’t the same as them.

Remus read until the sun started to set, at which time Sirius knew he had to go home. It was strange — incredibly strange to realize that he had people to go back to now, that Effie would have dinner waiting for him, that she would welcome him into the house and make sure he took off his shoes like she always did with James.

It was almost like he had a family who cared about him, who didn’t see right through him like he wasn’t made of any physical substance. It was almost like he had a family that loved him. A family of his own.

He walked home with Remus at his side, discussing the book and what he thought would happen next — he insisted that the Hunter and Terun would pair up to find a way to stop the Elder council, although Remus wasn’t so sure. He didn’t have many theories, actually — he seemed to like listening.

When Sirius got home, he couldn’t stop his smile.

* * *

The next morning it wasn’t raining, but the sky was still pleasantly grey. Sirius went to the pool in a better mood than usual, because of the color in the sky rather than despite it. He felt nicely warm on the inside, even if the temperature had dropped slightly.

He took up a spot at the snack counter — definitely not because he had a better view of Remus there, and not because Remus kept glancing up from his book to make faces at Sirius. Remus was still wearing a jumper, but it looked good on him. Everything seemed to look good on him — the curse of Sirius’s existence, because he couldn’t seem to get a moment of rest from his feelings.

From the memory of when they’d kissed.

He was so wrapped up in feelings and warmth that he barely noticed when there was a shout from the front of the pool. It wasn’t unusual, not with the amount of people running around the pool where they weren’t supposed to be and the number of friendly tussles inside the pool, water and shrieks of laughter everywhere.

He didn’t notice when James yelled out, or when a figure slipped around James, curly black hair and perfect poise even when she was running, eyes wide with a wild thrilling rage.

He didn’t notice until she was on him, attacking and yelling “Faggot! Queer! Disgrace to the family, begging for a dick up your arse like a fucking whore, you fucking faggo —”

He could barely hear her words because she was clawing at every inch of exposed skin, long nails dragging a bright red path across his face that bloomed in the wake of her fingers, tiny specks of blood in the middle.

And then someone else had joined in, and Bellatrix Black was turning to the newcomer, who was dragging her off Sirius and punching her with the advantage of surprise, fists flying as wildly as his curly brown hair.

“Remus!” That was Lily, and people were screaming, some running over to help and others running away, droplets of blood scattered against the ground, the red blooming brighter than he would’ve expected, a flowering rose against the grey of the sky.

It was over as quickly as it had started. James and Moody and Shacklebolt were dragging Bellatrix away, still snarling at Sirius and spitting out “Faggot,” between struggles to get free. Remus was standing beside him, fists bruised and bloodied. There was a drop of blood running down his face as well, but he didn’t seem to notice as it stained his face red, almost like a teartrack out of blood.

Sirius collapsed to the ground. He wasn’t hurt too badly — nothing he couldn’t handle, at least, but his legs were shaking too much to hold him upright. Remus collapsed beside him, out of range of the pool so they wouldn’t taint the water any more red than it already was.

They didn’t need words. Remus just hugged him, carefully so as not to put him in any more pain, and held him close.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “She’s nothing. She means nothing, I promise you that.”

Sirius took a shaky breath in and carefully stood up, leaning against Remus. They walked to James’s house together, Remus’s bloodied knuckles slowly drying out as they went, the angry pink lines across Sirius’s skin staying exactly as prominent as they’d ever been.

Effie wasn’t home yet, and neither was Fleamont.

“Go to the couch, I’ll be there in a minute” Sirius said quietly. Remus nodded without a word and walked out of the room, socks muffling his footsteps. Sirius hurried into the kitchen to fill a large bowl of water, and he grabbed a cloth from the door — he knew where it was immediately, so acquainted with the Potter’s house he was.

He came back to the sitting room to find Remus waiting on the coach, leaning back with his eyes glued shut.

“I’ve got water,” Sirius said softly, “Your knuckles are all bloody, we should wash them up so you don’t get an infection or something.” He paused, setting the metal bowl down on the coffee table with a tinny sound that was distorted by the water. “Thanks for pulling Bellatrix off me, by the way. You didn’t have to do that. I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“She deserved it,” Remus snarled, looking away. “The things she was calling you…” he sighed and looked as though he was trying to steady his breath.  “I can’t believe you had to grow up with people like that. I’m so sorry. You know nothing she was saying was true, right? You know there’s nothing wrong with being gay?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said quietly, because he did know. He knew that all theoretically, he just didn’t know why it still felt so wrong, why the word gay still felt dirty in his mouth, like a curse instead of a word to describe himself. The taste was all wrong, and he wished he knew how to change that. “To be honest, I’m not sure I would ever have accepted it if I hadn’t met you. So. Thanks.”

Remus shrugged, and looked over at him.

“You did all the hard parts,” he said. “I was just there.”

Sirius had something else he wanted to ask, but he wasn’t exactly sure how, so chewed at the inside of his lip, trying to find the words. When he looked over at Remus he found that Remus was already looking at him.

“You’re going to say something, aren’t you? You get that look on your face every time you have something to say.”

“I have to ask you something,” Sirius said. “I just — I know you said we’re friends, and I like being your friend, but I don’t understand…” he trailed off, not sure how to ask it in a way that would give him a real answer. “I don’t understand why.”

“Why what?”

“I don’t understand why you want to be my friend. I have nothing to offer. I sit at the pool all day, I create nothing, I don’t really have interests, and I barely have a grasp on life. I’m not worth anything. Why?”

Remus stared at him for a second before carefully adjusting his position so that he was sitting more upright, body tilted towards Sirius as though he wanted to be face-to-face when he was having this conversation. Sirius felt miserable, like Remus would think about this question and realize that Sirius was right all along.

“Sirius, that’s not — you’re a great person, you —”

“I’m not fishing for compliments,” Sirius frowned. “I know that’s what it sounds like, but I genuinely don’t understand why you bother with me.”

“Just because you don’t ‘create’ anything, or because you don’t ‘have interests’ doesn’t mean you don’t have worth. You’re worth something to me because you’re a great friend. You make me laugh, you let me be myself around you, and I like spending time with you. That’s worth something to me. Every part of you is worth something.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Sirius said, pulling at his fingernail, the constant tug soothing because it gave him something to focus on other than emotions. “It doesn’t feel like I’m a good friend.”

“You are,” Remus said simply. “Why else would I stick around? I told you, I’m selective.”

“But what if I change?” Sirius asked desperately. “That’s exactly it, you’re — you’re selective, and I barely know who I am, so what if I change and then you think I’m boring? Or what if I stop making you laugh, or — or — and don’t promise you’ll love me no matter what, because that’s what I said about my brother, and it was a lie.” He thought about Regulus, about how he’d changed, about the things he’d done, and he wondered if he’d end up like that.

Remus frowned and took a breath before he let it out.

“You’re really scared of being abandoned,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” Sirius laughed, nodding vigorously. “And it’s an annoying fear, because it means I have to keep checking if you really like me, and then I feel annoying for asking, and then… it’s kind of a circle that never ends.”

Remus hummed in thought, as though he was trying to figure out how to answer.

“I’m not sure how to explain that I enjoy your company,” Remus said finally, “But I do, and I don’t think that’s something that’s going to change any time soon.”

“That’s what I said about Regulus,” Sirius said miserably. “And then he just kept going, doing things that were worse and worse and now he’s someone I barely know. And I’m starting to question if I knew him in the first place.”

“Well if you’re doing something like Regulus, attacking people or — or whatever he does, I’d tell you I had a problem with it. You think I’m going to let you be homophobic or attack people or — or whatever he’s doing? I won’t. I don’t think I’m going to get tired of you Sirius. I think I’m here for the long haul.”

They sat in silence for a second, and then Sirius pulled the bowl of water onto his lap, watching — mesmerised — as the water sloshed around the inside of the bowl.

“Here,” he said quietly, holding out his hand, and Remus stared at it with confusion. He looked around himself, as though he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be giving Sirius, and then cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Your hand,” Sirius laughed, sliding closer to Remus on the couch. Remus let out a tiny oh and then placed his hand in Sirius’s, so lightly that it was barely a touch, as though he was terrified, as though Sirius’s hand was coated in poison.

“Relax,” Sirius said softly, unable to hold back a tiny laugh. “I’m just going to clean off the blood. I’ll be gentle.”

“Right,” Remus said, sounding flustered, and he pressed his hand more firmly into Sirius’s. Sirius dipped the cloth in water, watching as the dry spots evaporated, replaced by the water that soaked into it. He brought the cloth over to Remus’s hand, wiping away the trickle of blood that had left a trail along the back of his hand. The cloth came away a brown-red, less bright ruby than it’d been at the beginning.

Remus’s hand was warm in Sirius’s, warm and oh so alive.

He looked over at Remus, and their eyes locked, and suddenly it all felt so much more significant, even though Sirius was only cleaning dried blood off his hands.

It felt like they were holding hands for no other reason than to hold hands. Sirius wondered what it would be like if he could do this whenever he wanted, hold Remus’s hand and look after him. Sit with him like this. Look at him like this.

Sirius dipped the cloth back in and wiped away all the excess dried blood, carefully avoiding the tender knuckles while he first cleaned off the perfectly normal skin. He looked up to find Remus staring at him still, face flushed.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Sirius said with a low voice, unable to speak any louder. “Stop, it’s distracting me.”

“I’m not — sorry,” Remus muttered, and he looked away, although that made it infinitely worse because now they were both so so aware, more aware than was probably prudent in this situation.

“This might hurt,” Sirius said lightly as he gently rubbed his finger over the tender and slowly purpling knuckles.

“Well, can’t hurt much more than when I punched her,” Remus laughed dryly. It made it feel a little less awkward, laughing with each other. Remus let out a small hiss of pain, and his tightened against Sirius’s. Sirius took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and not let it get past him, go further than it was intended, because all he was doing was helping to clean of Remus’s hands.

He hurried up to finish the job, knowing that if he lingered any longer than he had to, he would twist it into something it wasn’t meant to be. When he finally let go of Remus’s hand, Remus seemed to let out a breath.

It was as though they were both thinking the same exact thing but they hadn’t spoken it aloud. They were both thinking about Sirius’s admission, about when Remus had come walking straight towards him and pushed him against the wall, about the possibilities, about the fact that they were both gay and that they read stories to each other and walked to the park, that they talked and laughed and smiled and by all intents and purposes they would be good together.

“Thanks,” Remus said as Sirius went to wring out the cloth, blood washing down the sink.

“Don’t mention it,” Sirius said quietly, watching him go.

* * *

Remus didn’t show up to the pool the next day, and Lily had no idea why. Sirius was worried, especially because Remus’ hadn’t said anything, although it wasn’t as though Remus was obligated to come to the pool every day or obligated to tell Sirius when he decided not to.

But still Sirius worried. More than anything, he worried that he might have scared Remus off.

It was a few days of stumbling and worrying for Sirius, days in which he barely resisted the urge to run to Remus’s house. He wondered if Remus had slipped back slightly — wondered if he was going to hurt himself, and knew Remus would be mad at him for prying. He took deep breaths and tried to steady himself in Remus’s absence, telling himself over and over that Remus was okay and that he wouldn’t appreciate Sirius trying to dig into it.

Sirius was doing his best to change, to stop digging into things because he was curious, because that was what had spurred on the worst of their fights in the first place.

It wasn’t until a few days later, late at night, when there was a knock on James’s window. He looked over to see Remus outside, hazy through the glass and looking frantic, as though he’d only just escaped from his room and run straight to James’s house. Sirius unlatched the window hurriedly and Remus clambered in, letting out a breath. Deep, a huff of air.

“Are you okay?” Sirius asked frantically. James rolled over and woke up to see Remus standing there.

“What happened?” James asked, looking as worried as Sirius felt.

“My mum,” Remus said quietly. “I went back home, and she saw that I was all bruised from when I fought off Bellatrix.”

“Yeah?”

“She saw the bruises and she — well, I told you, she’s very overprotective about injuries and other things like that.”

“Right?” Sirius said anxiously, not bothering to explain to James because he knew that might not be something Remus would want him to do.

“Well, she got worried. I told her it was a harmless fight, that’s all.”

“But she didn’t believe you?” Sirius asked anxiously. He could only imagine where her mind had gone, running wild from past experiences.

“She wanted to see if I was hurt anywhere else,” Remus said quietly. “So — she looked. Other places. And she saw — she saw. You know.” He didn’t say anything else, but Sirius knew. James seemed to sense that they were talking about something he wasn’t privy to, and he stood up.

“I’m going to go make some tea, you two tell me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Okay,” Sirius said, and as soon as he left the room, Remus collapsed to the ground, tears rolling down his face. “Shhh, Remus, come sit up here.”

He helped Remus up to the bed and they both lay down facing each other, neither speaking. Sirius wanted so desperately to pull Remus close, but he couldn’t initiate it, not after what had happened between them. Except then Remus rolled over and threw his arm over Sirius and pulled him close, and Sirius — despite his qualms — let himself be pulled over towards Remus.

They fell asleep like that, clinging to each other like lifeboats, unmoored and adrift on the ocean, needing each other if they wanted to stay afloat.

* * *

When Sirius began to wake up, all he could feel was warmth around him, entangled with him — heavier than the warmth of a blanket. He opened his eyes, even though his eyelids felt practically glued shut, and he almost ran.

Remus was wrapped around him, head burrowed against Sirius’s chest, the mop of curly hair tickling the bottom of Sirius’s chin. He was half thrown over Sirius, and Sirius closed his eyes for a second.

He pretended he was asleep. He pretended that this wasn’t a fluke, that he could wake up like this whenever he wanted. He tried to commit it to memory, tried to burn it onto his eyelids so he could see Remus whenever his closed his eyes. He never wanted to let go of this.

But then Remus shifted — Remus’s eyes fluttered open and he found Sirius already looking back at him. Neither of them moved — Remus hummed and closed his eyes for a second, not moving his head from where it was rested against Sirius’s chest, and then he carefully extricated himself from where he’d been all but wrapped around Sirius. He gave him an apologetic glance.

They lay there facing each other, close enough that all Sirius would have to do is reach out ever so slightly and Remus would be right there, waiting beneath his fingertips, quiet and warm and everything he’d ever wanted.

They were staring at each other, and Sirius watched, undeniably, as Remus’s eyes flicked momentarily down to his lips. It sent a shudder through Sirius. All he would have to do was lean forward and take Remus’s head in his hands, a few inches that barely felt like a barrier because it would be so easy to cross.

“I still like you,” Sirius blurted out. He wasn’t sure why, but he was almost angry. All he knew was that he was talking. “I can’t stop thinking about when you kissed me.”

Remus’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t move. It looked like he was trying his best not to let his eyes flicker back down, and they lingered on Remus’s with all their glowing intensity before dragging slowly away. Remus sat up, putting a little more space between himself and Sirius. Sirius ignored it.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, remembering the way Remus hadn’t seemed to regret it at the time, how he had walked so certainly towards Sirius and pushed him against the wall without a hint of hesitation.

“I…” Remus didn’t seem to have an answer. He looked hopeless, toying with the edge of the blanket like it was the corner of one of his books.

“I didn’t initiate it,” Sirius said quietly. “That was you. You kissed me, and I still have no idea why you did it. Was it a joke? Can you explain this, just for my peace of mind?”

Remus looked inexplicably sad at that, and he closed his eyes. He was pulling at the blanket corner like a lifeline, and he stayed silent for a second before talking. Slowly, like the words were being pulled from him against his will.

“I’m not one for relationships,” he said quietly.

“That’s not an answer,” Sirius bit out, frustrated. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I —” Again, he trailed off. Sirius thought back to his conversation with Lily, and was certain he already knew the answer, but he had to hear it from Remus himself. He didn’t want to hear fading letters and uncertain endings. He wanted Remus to answer him, to tell him why he’d pushed Sirius against the wall and kissed him like there was actually something between them.

“What is it?” Sirius asked. He was sitting up now too, knees pulled to his chest.

“Look, I fancy you, okay?” Remus said, and he sounded panicked — defensive — and his eyes were wild, like he wanted to run, blown open. “Is that what you want to hear? That I saw you that night and couldn’t help myself, because I wasn’t thinking things through clearly and it was the only thing I wanted to do? How is knowing that going to help anything, Sirius? I can’t do relationships and you know that, and telling you I fancy you only makes things worse.”

Sirius frowned. His stomach had no idea what it was supposed to be doing — he had no idea either, because his emotions were everywhere at once, flipping and twisting all over the place without his permission.

Remus wanted him as much as he wanted Remus. They fancied each other but Remus still refused to do anything about it. He hadn’t been imagining what was between them — it was there, waiting dormant.

He looked over at Remus and opened his mouth, not sure what he was about to say but sure that he had to say something.

And of course, that was the second that James interrupted and told them it was time to go to the pool, if they were ready. That’s when Sirius remembered why Remus was here in the first place, and realized that he’d only been making things worse for him, when he was already in trouble with his mother.

The door shut quietly behind James, a soft snick of the lock clicking shut, and Sirius felt himself wilt with it, his whole body slumping before him.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to interrogate you. I know you’ve had a terrible few days, and I’m only making it worse.”

“It’s okay,” Remus said, and maybe he would have shrugged, but his shoulders were already hunched. “My mum doesn’t want to let me out of the house right now. I tried to tell her the scars were from a while ago, but…”

“I’m so sorry,” Sirius whispered, and he hugged Remus, because that was the only thing he could think to do.

After the pool, they decided to walk to the park again. There was something stewing in the back of Sirius’s mind, a conversation that he thought wasn’t quite over yet, and he knew he had to get it over with now. He looked down at the grass, at the peculiar green color that covered the surface of the earth, and then he turned to look over at Remus.

“Hey Remus?”

Remus looked apprehensive, but he took the bait anyways. “Yes?”

“What do you think a relationship means?”

Remus tensed and took a sharp breath inwards. “I told you, I’m not —”

“No, shhh,” Sirius said. “I just want to know what you think a relationship entails, because you’re so set against them.”

Remus looked at him, an emotion that was hard to decipher glimmering in his eyes. “It’s more than I can give. I need to be alone sometimes, and I’m not always good at communication, and I can’t rely on other people or be — be held back by other people, because I don’t like to compromise. And I’m scared.”

Sirius had stopped now, on a stretch of grass right before the park.

“You think I’m not scared? Remus, a — a hypothetical relationship wouldn’t have to be much more than our friendship. All it would mean is that I could tell you what I think of you, that maybe — maybe I could kiss you sometimes. That we could cuddle and be more, but our relationship wouldn’t have to be a lot more than our friendship, if that’s what you want. We could have boundaries and…” Sirius trailed off. “I think we could make it work. Like this. I want to try.”

Remus looked at him. He looked away again, and Sirius waited anxiously.

“Can you give me time?” Remus asked quietly, and Sirius nodded. It was the most he could hope for — better than he could hope for, really.

When Sirius went home that night, he stepped through the front door to find Effie waiting for him, concern showing in every part of her face.

“Hi Sirius,” she said with a smile, and it quavered slightly at the corners. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“Who is it?” Sirius asked, and he could tell from the way her smile wasn’t so steady that it was someone he might not want to see. Consider the limiting number of people he knew, he realized that it was probably —

“It’s your brother.”

Sirius knew what he would say before he said it. It was pure instinct, an unstoppable force, his ability to forgive Regulus, his willingness to take him back.

“I want to talk with him,” he said, and he entered the room to find Regulus looking around with disdain evident on his face — he apparently thought he was above the Potter’s house. Sirius wasn’t surprised.

“Reg,” he said, sitting down on the couch. “Why are you here.”

“No time for pleasantries, I see,” Regulus said evenly. He leaned back, seeming to enjoy this, watching the affect his words had and the strange reactions that he got. It was like his life was a television show and he was just watching it unfold before him.

“You ran me out of our house,” Sirius said, trying to keep his calm like Regulus was, even though the thought of that night made him want to scream.

“Don’t pretend you were happy there.”

Sirius sighed and looked away.

“Why are you here, Regulus? You hate people who are gay. You’re like our parents. I’m surprised you’ll even stand near me.” In the back of his mind, there was a nudge, a tiny voice telling him that Bellatrix had come to the pool alone when she attacked. Even so.

“I don’t hate you,” Regulus shrugged.

“But I’m gay,” Sirius spat at him. “There’s no difference! Don’t you understand that what you’re saying doesn’t make sense?”

Regulus shrugged, still looking unconcerned, and Sirius wondered — not for the first time — if Regulus experienced feeling in the same way that everybody else did.

“Bellatrix wanted me to come attack you,” he said at long last, after a pause where Sirius fumed and Regulus looked on.

“And you didn’t go,” Sirius finished for him, shaking his head. “Regulus, for once, I don’t care. I shouldn’t consider that a success. I hold you to this different standard and — I shouldn’t. You have to wake up, Regulus. You have to realize that there are other people out there who your actions affect.”

Sirius turned away and did his best not to look back at Regulus, lest he be tempted towards forgiveness. Instead he walked out of the room and ignored Regulus’s voice behind him. Making Regulus good wasn’t his job, and it wasn’t something he wanted to deal with.

It was three hours later when Remus appeared at the window to James’s room, and Sirius quickly unlatched the window, trying to suppress the feeling in his chest when he clambered through.

It felt unstoppable. It didn’t matter if he tried to curb his emotions, and it didn’t matter if he distracted himself, because he felt a pull towards Remus as sure as he felt a pull towards breathing, as unstoppable as moving — a necessary life function. Remus had become a part of him he couldn’t get rid of even if he’d wanted to.

“Are you okay?” he asked quickly, because Remus looked exhausted. Sirius didn’t even notice his eyes first this time. Instead, he noticed the black circles underneath, the bags that overwhelmed the rest of his face, the way his blinks seemed almost drugged — like he was trying to get more sleep by keeping his eyes closed for a second longer.

“Better than before,” Remus shrugged. Sirius would’ve willingly taken Remus’s exhaustion for himself if that would mean he was happy. He was starting to think he’d do more for Remus than he’d do for almost anybody else.

“Did something happen?”

“I went back to my mother after I stormed out,” Remus sighed. “I yelled at her, she yelled, you know. It wasn’t pleasant. She was angry about me lying, I was angry about her being — well, slightly overprotective, and then she started crying because she’s just worried about me.” He let out another deep sigh. “She means well. She thinks if I’m always within her sight, I won’t be able to do anything.”

“Other than swimming,” Sirius added.

“Yeah, well, my therapist told her swimming was a good coping technique for me. She liked that. And I think seeing my — my scars — was a wakeup call for her. She thought she needed to keep me even closer so I’d stay safe. She felt responsible for it.”

“What about now?” Sirius asked. “Is she still insisting on keeping you within her sights?”

“We’ve tried to come up with a compromise,” Remus shrugged. “She said she’ll give me a longer rein if I go to therapy two times a week and try not to lie to her. We’re — talking more, actually. It’s kind of nice.”

Sirius smiled at him. There was a warm bubble, a flaming coal inside him.

“That’s good?”

“Yeah, it is,” Remus said sounding surprised. “I’m kind of worn out though. I told her I was going to sleep at a friend’s — I probably should have asked you first, but I was just amazed that she agreed to it in the first place. Do you think it’s okay if I crash here?”

“Sure,” Sirius said. They stared at each other for a second and then Sirius gestured quickly towards the couch James had dragged into the room. “I — I’ll sleep on the couch, you can take the bed.”

“No, it’s…” Remus began, but he stopped equally as quickly. “I — okay.”

They fell asleep in their respective places, but despite the distance between them, Sirius felt like he’d be able to leap across chasms if only it meant he could get to Remus.

* * *

The next day, Sirius was depressed again. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t bring himself to go to the pool, and instead he waved James on ahead, collapsing on the couch. It was sticky and hot outside, and the weather wasn’t helping his mood in the slightest. Remus sat next to him on the couch.

“Come with me,” he said quietly. Sirius did, barely dragging himself from the couch.

They got in the car and drove until it felt like they’d been driving for hours. On the way, Remus told him stories, staring out the front windshield and looking over at Sirius every so often with a laugh on his face. Sirius thought he never wanted to leave this car. Sirius finally understood what it was like to fall in love with your best friend and be able to do nothing about it, and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.

Finally, they reached a building, and Remus led Sirius inside. There, standing before him, was — there was no other way to describe it — rain.

It was falling heavy from the ceiling, which was crafted in such a way that it looked like the sky outside. The water was almost technicolor, and Sirius looked over at Remus in awe. He was smiling, small and soft as he watched Sirius.

“What is this?” Sirius called over the sound of rain battering against the ground. He felt an energy inside of him. He wanted to cry.

“Rain,” Remus shrugged happily. “You were having a bad day, and I know you like the rain, so…”

“I —” Sirius didn’t know what to say.

“You can go in it, if you want,” Remus smiled. So Sirius did. He stepped into the rain and let it fall everywhere — around him, on him, speckling his clothes with the beauty, He closed his eyes and held up his hands to the heaven, when all of a sudden he felt a brush against his waist. he opened his eyes to find Remus in front of him, hair sodden with water, sliding along the curls and beading up at the tips.

Remus was close to him. Closer than anything normal. His hands were so light, brushing against Sirius’s hips so hesitantly. His face was close, water sliding down it like tears, falling everywhere around him.

And then Remus kissed him, for the second time. His lips were covered with rainwater, and his skin was cold and wet, and he was the most beautiful thing Sirius had ever felt. Sirius kissed back with everything he had in him. He didn’t care about anything else in the world, because everything had faded away until it was only narrowed on his senses, on the physical — him, Remus, the rain.

He kissed Remus. He didn’t think. The rain fell around them.

When Remus finally pulled away, still so gentle, he looked at Sirius.

“I want to try,” he said quietly. “You and me. If you want. I — you’re worth it.”

SIrius looked at him. He didn’t know what to say, All he knew is that rain was falling around him, and for now, nothing else mattered.

He had a new family now, with the Potters. He had Remus. He had everything he’d ever wanted. It was raining, and everything was like a dream.

When they finally walked back to the car hand in hand, they left a trail of darkening concrete behind him as rainwater dripped everywhere. When they got back to James’s, they sat in the front lawn, a binder resting at Remus’s side.

“You really want to try?” Sirius asked. He almost didn’t ask — it felt like he might break the spell again, like Remus would run again and tell him it had all been one more big mistake, or perhaps that it had been a prank and he’d never actually wanted to be with Sirius, because why would anyone want that?

But then Remus looked over at him. He was smiling, still clinging to Sirius’s hand like he genuinely wanted this, thumb running along the inner side of his wrist ever so softly. Like a whisper, a breath, caught in the air.

“You know, I liked you from the beginning,” Remus laughed, looking away. “Well — you were annoying at first, when I was trying to read. But after that? There’s something about you that’s just — not intrusive, like I expected. You’re so…” he trailed off and Sirius could see the beginning of a blush. “You’re like nobody I’ve ever met before. You seem to have no idea what you’re doing with your life, but you’re living it, and somehow you like me and…after I kissed you, you have no idea how much self-restraint it took not to do it again. I wanted to so badly.”

“Me too,” Sirius admitted. “I wanted to even before you kissed me. I didn’t…” he sighed. “I’m probably going to be insecure about this,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?”

“This,” Sirius said, nodding at their hands. “I’ve never really understood — social cues? I don’t know. There’s always ‘don’t say this because it seems to clingy,’ or…I don’t know. I’m not good at this kind of thing.”

Remus laughed. “You think I am?” he asked.

Sirius shrugged uncomfortably, still looking down at their clasped hands. “I might get annoying,” he whispered. “A lot of people find me overbearing. You’re going to have to tell me when to back off, okay?”

“If you’ll tell me when I’m too distant,” Remus shrugged.

“I can do that,” Sirius said slowly. “It might…be hard. To strike a balance.”

“It might,” Remus said quietly. “Never said it would be easy.”

“No, I know,” Sirius remedied, looking away. “I never expected it to be. But I’m still worried you’ll get tired of me. Sometimes I get tired of myself too. I’m scared, and I feel ridiculous saying that, because…”

“I’m scared too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus said. “Definitely. I’ve never been good at this kind of thing, but you’re special and I really don’t want to mess any of it up.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. He nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Whatever for?”

“For trying this,” Sirius said, and he squeezed Remus’s hand lightly. “For giving me a chance, even though we haven’t been…well. The most stable.”

“Do you want to keep reading?” Remus asked suddenly. He gestured to the binder beside him, a promise of more stories, of the Hunter and Terun and a million other ideas that swarmed his head. Sirius nodded eagerly, and they leaned back in the grass, hands still intertwined. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to this feeling — he understood, now, why love was always such a big deal to everyone, if this is what it felt like to hold hands. To be wanted. To feel like there was somebody else in the world who didn’t think you were a complete waste.

So Remus read, spinning tales.

* * *

The next few months were the happiest of Sirius’s life.

It was in the little things and the big things and all things — in being able to kiss Remus when he wanted and holding his hand subtly when they went to get ice cream. In talking to Remus every day and hearing about a million different books, in hundreds of different moments that all came down to the same thing.

Days, minutes, specific times, like when Remus had finally grown the courage to show Sirius his scars.

“I want to show you,” he’d said quietly, while Sirius was locking up the pool for the day. Sirius had hesitated at the door and looked back to Remus, because he’d recognized that voice that said this was more than an ordinary conversation. It sent a flush of warmth through him to realize that he could tell Remus’s different voices from each other, that he was getting to know the little nuances that made up Remus.

“What?”

“I want to show you,” Remus had said quietly, and he’d turned away before lifting his jumper over his head. Even from the back, Sirius had been able to see the beginnings of scars curling around the edges of his back, an angry red.

When Remus had turned around, his breathing was coming too quickly, like the more air he tried to take in the worse it got. His eyes had been closed and his arms crossed tight in front of him, but Sirius had been able to see. The lines crossed his stomach, messy and unorderly, harsh lines of red with a mix of some that were fading to a white. The white ones were thinner, raised, and when Remus finally looked up, Sirius gad given  him a sad smile.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said, quiet. He’d hugged Remus then, holding him close and promising to the universe that he wouldn’t let go.

There were a thousand moments, some happy, some sad, all of them Remus.

He’d gotten back into swimming after a month, much to Coach McGonagall’s surprise and joy. Although he’d worried about it for days on end, not many people questioned that he now swam with a top — in fact, it became his signature mark, especially when he quickly rose to one of the top in his league, battling only with Lily.

Sirius had been adrift before Remus, and he still was, but now he was adrift with Remus, his anchor in the sea. Somehow he was happy even when he wasn’t, because in the back of his mind he knew his life was waiting for him, that he had Remus and James and Lily, that he had a family and a life he’d only ever dreamed of.

He still couldn’t believe that he had Remus after everything, that Remus still wanted him. They’d had their fights, of course. They had off days, where they didn’t sync up — where Remus wanted to be alone and Sirius needed someone, or where they just didn’t quite seem to line up in the right places. But Sirius wouldn’t give it up for anything. He would never give up Remus, who only seemed to get better with every part of himself that he revealed to Sirius.

And he was the best thing that had happened to Sirius. He was endlessly supportive — he got Sirius to try things, to step out where he’d shied away before, to share pieces of himself he’d thought would forever have to stay in the shadows.

* * *

Now they were curled together on the Potter’s sofa, quiet except for the lull of Remus’s voice that filled every corner. It was perfect — soft and perfect, perfect for the finale in the second installment of the Hunter series.

Outside, the sun was beating down, reminiscent of the long days at the pool where they’d first met. They’d escaped from the heat after a few minutes of suffering through the sun, and even Remus couldn’t deny that the sofa was far more comfortable.

“Okay,” Remus said, in the voice he always used when he was reading, just slightly lower and quieter than his normal voice, although Sirius wasn’t sure if he realized that. “We’re on the last chapter now, are you ready?”

“I don’t want it to end,” Sirius said with a wry smile. They’d been reading the Hunter series ever since Remus had first brought it out — had waited patiently in the lull between books until the mysterious author, who wrote under the pen name Moony, had finally come out with a second book. It had been something of a peacemaker between them.

Even if they were fighting, even if they were at odds with each other, they kept reading. They would listen to the world and do their best to communicate between lines of dialogue, the words flowing easily from Remus as he went. Sometimes he appeared to read parts without even looking at the binder, and Sirius had wondered more than a few times if Remus hadn’t already read the book, with the way he seemed to know it so well.

So now, Sirius leaned into his side with a smile as he read the last chapter.

“Who knows,” Remus said, as he flicked the book back open to where they’d left off. “Maybe Moony will write a third book some day.”

And so, he continued to read. He read until the words all came together in the final paragraphs of the book, read until the words seemed to flow as easily as water.

“And Terun looked at the Hunter as they stood together, watched as he siphoned energy from the sun and looked alive as the sun himself, radiating a brightness that could be seen from the world beyond. He looked at the Hunter in all his glory, and realized something he’d never understood before.

“Love, that bloomed in the most unexpected of places. That’s what it was, this stomach churning, heart-flipping, comfort-inducing, home home home. This man who let him be himself in all his fullness, who loved him for that and would continue to do so.

“Love, he thought. That’s what this was, sprouting between the cracks and spreading sunshine — or perhaps, in the Hunter’s case, rain — to every crevice of his being. This was love, this growing inevitability, this irresistible draw, this feeling that all the clichés had come true.

Terun looked at the Hunter and wondered why he’d ever doubted this man who stood before him.”

Remus closed the book and Sirius leaned into him with a content sigh, his head falling against Remus’s chest. He closed his eyes and let the echo of Remus’s words wash over him, the remnants of speech that were still there.

The word hung around him — love. It was something they hadn’t said to each other. Not yet at least. It was there, but there ever so quietly, through their every movement and smile and touch, something that Sirius wasn’t sure they needed to say, because it was so evident in everything.

Remus handed him the binder then, and Sirius ran his hand over the cover. He loved the series. He’d never read much before — usually didn’t have the patience — but when Remus was reading he could listen for hours, not to mention the same parallels between the book and real life, the way the Hunter’s appearance seemed so strangely similar. Like Sirius himself.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Sirius sighed, studying the front of the binder. He’d never actually looked inside. Remus was always the one reading, and Sirius realized he’d never actually looked inside the binder.

“Mmm,” Remus said quietly, that tiny smile back on his face as he leaned into Sirius, like they were both there to lean on each other. The sun was shining down through the skylight, and for once Sirius didn’t mind the heat. Remus was here with him. He couldn’t bring himself to mind. Remus leaned over and flipped the front of the binder open, to a page titled dedication. He saw Remus watching him, and wondered if he was supposed to be reading it, so he looked down at what he said.

This book is dedicated to the real-life Hunter, the person who made me see outside of my own world and the world of these pages to the person who I couldn’t live without.

I love you.

Sirius smiled at it with a fondness that made him feel as though he was part of the book, and he looked over at Remus, distantly thinking about what it would be like to read the book that Remus was writing. He still hadn’t gotten the chance, even though he was sure he could persuade him, given enough time.

“I wonder who the real life Hunter is,” Sirius said with a laugh, looking down at the words. “Wouldn’t it be strange to meet him? I wonder if we’ll ever know. Probably not, the author doesn’t seem like they’re going to reveal themselves. But it would be cool to meet the person the Hunter was based off of.”

“Oh,” Remus said slowly, and he looked like a mix between shy and nervous, even though there was no tremor in his words. “Well…there’s. There’s a chance you’ve met him.”

Sirius frowned. He looked over at Remus, not understanding what he was talking about. The sun cast shadows that didn’t seem to have a source, dancing around them with specks of light, falling over the leather of the sofa and reflecting off the glass of the windows.

“What? Do you mean you figured out who Moony was? Even though he writes under a different name?”

“It’s possible I know who Moony is,” Remus said quietly, staring down at his lap. “It’s — possible that you know him too.”

Sirius looked over at Remus, at that shy and strange shape to his face, the way he stared ever so determinedly down at his lap like it was the most fascinating thing he’d seen in a long time. He was embarrassed, Sirius realized.

“Hold on.” Something was shifting inside Sirius’s brain. It was slow, a clicking of gears that had been there all along, slowly fitting into places he’d never considered before. He looked over at Remus and thought back to the times they’d sat outside to stare at the moon together.

Moony.

He thought about the Hunter’s black hair, about the way he was different from his tribe, about his strange brother and —

He looked back at the message and then stared at Remus openmouthed, not quite able to believe the thought he was considering.

“It isn’t — you aren’t…?”

Remus shrugged sheepishly, leaning back into the couch and letting it press strange patterns into the palms of his hands as he did so, an array of red printed shapes.

“Remus,” Sirius said quietly, still staring at the page.

I love you, it read.

“Yeah?”

He built up his courage and poured it into the one phrase, the one that he’d never had the courage to let out into the little places they occupied. It was there, from the curl of Remus’s hair to the curl of his form when he found a good book. It was there, and it was Remus, and it was this dedication in front of him.

“I love you too.”