Chapter Text
Sirius pulled the cover off the window well and hopped down, wincing as his socked feet hit the gravel and weeds below. Trying to put the cover right as quietly as he could, Sirius barely noticed the oddities of the hole he’d jumped into.
“Hello?”
He spun around, heart beating fast, to see a boy about his age peering at him through iron bars.
“Bloody hell,” Sirius gasped, sitting down hard on what might’ve been a mouse skeleton. “What the fuck, man?”
The boy’s eyes widened in horror. “Arthur!” he cried. “You just sat on Arthur!” Then he added, in a sarcastic tone, “What the fuck, man?”
Sirius half-heartedly looked underneath himself. “Arthur’s dead, mate,” he informed his companion. Trying to sound unconcerned, he added, “What’s with the bars?”
“Oh, they’re mostly for show,” the boy said. “I figured out how to take them off ages ago. Do you want to come in?”
“Er—that’s all right,” Sirius said. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go in a basement with bars on the windows.
“You need shoes,” the boy observed. “And you’re cold.” With a deft flick of his wrist, the window was fully open.The boy reached up through the bars and unhooked them from the outside. “It was harder the first time,” he cheerfully told Sirius. “I had to unscrew it, and Dad put them in pretty tight. But it’s pretty easy now.” He nodded towards Arthur. “It took so long, I was too late. But now I’ve got it.”
“You… broke out of your house to rescue a mouse?” Sirius asked, dumbfounded. “Why did your Dad even put bars on your window in the first place?”
“It got broken a few times,” the boy explained. “The bars are to protect the window from rocks.” He walked further from the window. “C’mon, you can have some of my shoes.”
Sirius slipped through the window, his curiosity winning out. The boy pulled on a cord and a single lightbulb clicked on. “What’s your name?” he asked, beginning to rummage through a battered dresser.
“Sirius Black.” There was a beat. “What’s yours?” Sirius asked, when the boy didn’t respond in kind.
“Remus Lupin,” he said, turning around to face Sirius in the light, a pair of Crocs in one hand.
“You mean like—Loony Lupin?” Sirius blurted out. Abort, abort, abort, he thought. Fuck, he’s hot.
He’d thought the boy was a bit younger than him, but now it was clear that he was not. Even as his shoulder slumped and he ducked his head, revealing a mop of tawny curls, it was obvious that he was several inches taller than Sirius.
“Here’s your shoes,” Remus mumbled, quickly handing Sirius the Crocs. He turned back to the dresser, which had been painted with fantastical curlicues.
“Wait!” Sirius yelped. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry.”
Remus paused, his back to Sirius. “It’s okay.” He went back to rifling through the dresser again. “Do people really call me that?”
“Er, yeah,” Sirius said, tracing his socked toes on the cold concrete floor. Remus’s feet were bare. “...Aren’t you cold?” he asked.
“Oh, no!” Remus said, turning to face Sirius, his face lighting up. “I have my very own radiator,” he explained, pointing at a rusty heater next to an old twin bed.
No way he fits in that bed, Sirius thought. What the hell?
“Dad even put in a toilet,” Remus added. He handed Sirius a jumper. “You can use it, if you like. The toilet and the jumper.”
Sirius glanced around the room. The dresser, the bed, the radiator, the window, and behind him—his heart sank horribly—a toilet, its only modicum of privacy the fact that it was on the same wall as the window, so you couldn’t look in and see it. There was a cat flap on the only door. It looked an awful lot like the one Sirius’s mother had attached to the cellar door, to give him water after he’d upset her. Fucking hell, Sirius thought. He’d bet ten quid that the Lupins didn’t have a cat.
Slipping on the jumper and the Crocs, Sirius glanced from Remus to the open window.
“Do you want to come with me?’ he asked.
Remus’s eyes widened. “I can’t,” he said, voice tinged with regret. “It’s not safe.” He picked up a slim, red book off of his shabby bed and showed Sirius. Autistic Studies was emblazoned on the cover. “I might hurt someone.” His gaze turned thoughtful. “I would like to see the moon, though. Did you know that the person I was named after might’ve been a werewolf?”
“I—I don’t think—”
“Shh,” Remus suddenly hissed, reaching over to tug on the lightbulb’s cord. “Mum’s awake.”
Sirius scrambled back to the window in the dark. “Please, Remus. Come with me. I’ll show you the moon—”
Remus began re-attaching the bars. “It’s okay, Sirius. Are we friends?” Sirius could hear the faint click of locks being disengaged from across the room.
Sirius pushed the window well cover aside and scrambled up the side, accidentally stepping on Arthur again. “Yes,” he said, right before Remus closed the window. “Yeah, we’re friends.”
“Remus? Are you talking to someone?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Just the stars,” Remus replied, his voice muffled. Sirius thought he could hear him smiling.