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“Play me a song.”
They’re twelve, hiding from Filch in an old, unused storage room. There’s a dusty, chipping grand piano sitting in the back.
Sirius is sitting on the bench, tapping carefully at the keys. The middle pedal is on the floor, cut clean like someone deliberately removed it. Sirius looks up at Remus’s request.
“Huh?” He says, surprised.
“Play for me,” Remus repeats, sitting on the corner of the bench.
A bit of a smile pulls on Sirius’s lips. “Alright. Any requests, your highness?” He jokes lightly, leaning against Remus’s shoulder.
“Anything, bard,” Remus smiles back.
“Hmm… alright. You know Clair De Lune?” Asks Sirius, hands hovering over the keys.
Remus shakes his head. “Nope. Play it anyway.”
Sirius smiles, and plays for Remus. At home, he always fears missing a note and getting punished. The anxiety is still there, but he knows Remus would never hurt him.
~
“Play me a song.”
They’re fourteen, sitting together in the Shrieking Shack, waiting for the moon to rise. Remus’s teeth are gritted, his whole body shaking, the fear and pain taking over his mind completely.
Sirius is holding his hand, stroking the inside of his palm. “You need to relax, Remus. Your heart’s gonna explode,” he says softly.
Remus tips his head back against the wall. “God. I can’t, Sirius, I’m fucking burning,” he hisses.
Sirius hushes him softly. “I’m sorry, Re. What can I— what do I do?”
“Play something for me. Please? It’ll help me relax,” Remus whispers tightly. Sirius bites his lip.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you—“
“Please?” Remus repeats, and Sirius relents.
“Alright. Okay, fine. What do you wanna hear?” Sirius asks, letting go of Remus’s hand to stand and cross the room to the piano.
“Fucking anything.”
Sirius glances back at Remus, then at the clock, and starts to play. Für Elise, a classic, one of his favorite pieces. He keeps playing until it’s too dangerous to stay, and James drags him out to the tunnel.
~
“Play me a song.”
They’re sixteen, sitting in the Potters’ living room. Sirius has just been kicked out of his home two weeks ago, and now he’s living here.
Sirius is still littered in bruises and half-healed lacerations. His current state is progress, but still fucked. Remus just wants to make him feel better.
“Wh— what?” Sirius startles.
“Play something? You don’t have to, but it’s quiet— it would be nice,” Remus says gently.
“Oh, okay.” Sirius doesn’t sound too sure, but Remus doesn’t want to push. “Help?” He reaches out, and Remus picks him up carefully, holding his too-thin boyfriend against his chest.
He sets Sirius down lightly on the pristine white stool, sitting beside him and wrapping an arm around his waist.
Sirius bites his lip, settling his hands on the keys. They’re shaking, Remus notices. Was this a mistake?
Sirius starts to play a simple scale. Suddenly, his hands jerk back like he just touched fire, and a choked sob jumps out of him.
Remus brings the piano cover down in an instant and holds Sirius close.
“Pads, hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did that hurt you? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know— are you okay?” He rambles, increasingly concerned with every violent sob coming out of Sirius.
Sirius shakes his head, fear glistening in his eyes. “Remus, I can’t, they— you don’t—“ he closes his eyes, overwhelmed by unwelcome, unpleasant thoughts.
Remus hushes him lightly, rubbing his arm. “Hey, it’s okay, no one’s gonna hurt you here. What’s scaring you? I’m sorry,“ he says gently, taking Sirius’s hand.
“‘S okay, not your fault. They… they’d always punish me if I played the wrong note. Usually slam the cover down on my hands. If they were mad, I got the belt, one lash for every wrong note. I’m so scared, Remus, I can’t—“ Sirius turns his head, crying softly into the couch.
Remus carefully pulls him into his lap. Scarred fingers card through wavy hair, gentle and loving. “I’m so sorry, love…”
“‘S okay. I just… can’t right now. Sorry,” Sirius sniffles, his voice muffled by Remus’s shirt. Remus hushes him gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“It’s okay. I love you,” Remus whispers against his hair.
Sirius just nuzzles closer to Remus, replying in actions instead of words.
~
“Play me a song.”
They’re seventeen, sitting in the room of requirement two hours past curfew. It’s Remus’s birthday, and Sirius wanted to do something special for him.
It’s a beautiful scene. Little potted plants litter the room, patches of grass in some spots. The ceiling is covered in shining stars, constellations connected by faint lines. There’s a little blanket in the middle with a massive chocolate cake.
After a while, Remus only has eyes for the piano in the back corner.
“C’mon, Remus, you can have the whole world in here and that’s all you want?” Sirius asks lightly, pushing gently against Remus’s shoulder.
Remus smiles. “Of course it is. What else is there?”
“Literally anything, Re. I thought you’d have gotten tired of hearing me whack keys by now,” Sirius jokes.
Remus shakes his head, leaning against Sirius. “How could I get tired of hearing the most beautiful sounds ever? Come on, just one song,” he practically pleads.
Sirius sighs lightly. “Alright, alright, don’t gotta hold a gun to my head.”
Sirius goes over to the piano, sits on the velvet bench, leaving room for Remus to sit beside him.
“What do you wanna hear?”
“What’s that one you always played in first year?”
Sirius smiles, and starts playing.
Halfway through, Remus wraps an arm around Sirius’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Sirius turns to look at him, and Remus takes the opportunity to pull Sirius into a passionate kiss.
~
“Play me a song.”
They’re eighteen, lying on the floor of the common room. It’s nearly three in the morning, and they’re graduating today.
Graduating. Seven years, sixty three full moons, so many memories. And it’s ending now, just like that. They’ll be thrown out into the real world tomorrow, no one to guide them anymore, just their dumb, inexperienced selves.
It should be a bittersweet day, but really, it’s just bitter. They’re being thrown out into a fucking war, just eighteen year old kids. It’s scary to think about.
“Are you okay, Re?” Sirius asks gently, taking Remus’s hand.
Remus nods slightly, his hands trembling lightly. “I’m fine. Just, uh, sentimental? I don’t know. Emotions,” he mutters.
Sirius hums softly. “Me too. It’s okay,” he assures.
Remus turns to duck his head down onto Sirius’s shoulder, stubbornly holding the tears back. Sirius kisses him gently on the forehead. “We’ll be okay, Re.”
“Yeah…” Remus sits up, wiping at his eyes and pulling himself together. “C’mon, serenade me,” he says playfully after a minute.
Sirius grins, standing and walking over to the grand piano he’s become so familiar with.
“Last time tickling these ivories,” he says quietly, playing a couple scales to warm up.
“I really hate that sentence,” Remus laughs lightly.
“Sorry,” Sirius chuckles. “What do you wanna hear?” He pats the seat, motioning for Remus to sit beside him.
“What about that one you and Peter obnoxiously sing way too much? With the opera bullshit?”
Sirius rolls his eyes, pushing Remus’s shoulder lightly. “God, you have no appreciation for art. And it’s called Bohemian Rhapsody,” he corrects.
“Whatever. Play it, since you’re so artsy.”
Remus watches as Sirius plays, so mesmerized by the beautiful sounds Sirius is creating with just his finger tips. He tilts his head onto Sirius’s shoulder, eyes following the deep-red painted nails.
For the hundredth time, Remus thinks, I am so in love with this boy.
~
They’re twenty, curled up together on Remus’s couch, dry tear tracks on their cheeks. There’s a letter from Dumbledore on the coffee table that’s bee crumpled up and burnt at the corner from Sirius’s rage.
The letter detailed the mission Remus would be on for god knows how long— living underground with the werewolves. Spying.
“I can’t fucking believe he would do that to you,” Sirius sobs into Remus’s chest. Remus holds him close, hushing him gently.
“Me neither. I’m gonna be okay, though. You’re gonna see me again, I promise,” Remus murmurs softly.
Sirius lets out another choked sob. “You don’t know that! He’s sending you on a fucking suicide mission, Remus, how can you make a promise like that?”
Remus bites his lip, tucking Sirius’s head against his shoulder. “I do know, because I need to see you again, and no one will stop me. ‘M gonna be fine, Siri. Please believe that,” he assures carefully.
Sirius shakes his head. “I can’t, how am I s-supposed to… to—“ he cuts himself off when Remus hushes him again.
“Babe, you’re gonna make yourself sick, please calm down for me. I know you’re scared, I- I am too. But it’s gonna be fine,” Remus reassures again.
“But—“
“Come on, Pads, lets just enjoy tonight, okay? We can talk about it more in the morning, let’s just relax for now. Please?” Remus tries.
There’s a moment of relative silence, Sirius taking deep, shaky breaths to steady himself.
“Okay. Yeah, okay. What do you wanna do?” Sirius pulls back, shifting to straddle Remus.
A light, playful smile pulls on Remus’s lips. “Wanna play me a song?”
Sirius grins, wiping the tears from his cheeks and standing up. He offers a hand to Remus and tugs him over to the keyboard in the corner.
“What do you wanna hear?” He asks, as always, settling down on the wooden stool.
“Clair De Lune? For old times’ sake,” he says, sitting in the small space beside Sirius, leaning against him.
Sirius smiles softly at Remus. “I love you,” he whispers, leaning over to kiss him.
“I love you too.” They pull apart, and Sirius begins playing.
It was the last time Remus heard Sirius play for thirteen years.
~
They’re thirty-three, finally reunited, living together in Remus’s tiny cottage.
They’re okay now, or something like it. Sirius falls asleep in Remus’s arms most nights. They smile, laugh, and cook together, almost like a normal family. They’re happy, Remus thinks.
Something’s missing, though.
Remus knew Sirius would be different, he just didn’t think he’d be this different. He should’ve expected it, really— but it’s still devastating. There’s nothing left of the Sirius he fell in love with all those years ago. Remus wants to bring back some part of him, no matter how small
“Hey, Sirius?” Remus says softly, sitting beside him on the couch.
Sirius looks up, eyebrows raised slightly, and hums in response.
“Do you think… think you can still play?” Remus asks carefully— he still doesn’t know what the twelve years in Azkaban has done to Sirius’s mind, doesn’t want him to be upset by the question.
“Piano?” Sirius rasps, barely audible. He clears his throat and tries again.
“Yeah. It’s okay if not, I don’t want to—“ Remus starts, but Sirius cuts him off.
“I can try.”
Remus grins, leaning forward. “Really? You would?”
Sirius shrugs. “Sure, why not? Not like I have anything better to do,” he says sarcastically, but Remus can hear the bite of bitterness in the words.
There’s a dusty upright piano in the corner of the room, pressed flush against the wall. There’s no stool, only a little black folding chair, but it works.
Sirius shuffles slowly over to it, settling down and looking at the keys, re-familiarizing his mind with the order of the notes and semitones. It’s mildly confusing and frustrating at first.
“Woah. This is… I didn’t think I’d get to see one of these again…” Sirius mutters, hands hovering over the keys.
Remus crouches behind Sirius, pulling him close for a light kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you get to,” he whispers.
Sirius looks at him, smiling shakily. “Thank you,” he says lightly, emotional.
“Of course. It’s… a little out of tune, but it’s still a piano, right?”
Sirius laughs lightly. “Obviously. I’ll see what I can do,” he says.
Scarred fingers practically float over the keys, slow, unsure movements gradually growing faster as muscle memory sets in. Sirius smiles as he watches his own hands moving as if they’re going on their own, his thoughts melting into pure joy.
Remus is amazed, watching the man he loves so much do what he loves for the first time in 12 years. It’s a bittersweet moment for him, thinking about all that’s changed about this beautiful man, and all that’s stayed the same. It’s exhilarating to watch him find himself again.
“Sirius,” he whispers when Sirius’s hands stop. “That was beautiful.”
Sirius smiles, eyes glassy. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Remus wraps his arm around Sirius, leaning his head onto his shoulder. “I’m so glad you’re back,” he mutters, closing his eyes.
Sirius presses a kiss to Remus’s hair, pulling him close and just holding him for a minute. “Me too.”