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"Remus?"
Oh, hell. Remus reaches for his book and pulls it closer, bending over it just in time. It's a dusty old Potions newsletter from the fifties, nothing that he cares about, but it was on the top of the pile. He just hopes Sirius doesn't look closely.
Of course, he goes right for the pile after sitting down. "What is this, more studying? Merlin's beard, Moony, we've already taken our N.E.W.T.'s, what could you possibly want to learn?"
"Dunno," Remus mutters, trying for a disinterested tone.
"I've been trying to find you all afternoon." Sirius picks up another manuscript and brushes off the dust. "The Progression of Shrivelfig Use in Potion-Making. Please tell me you don't enjoy this stuff."
"Er…" Which answer will make Sirius leave sooner? It's not as if he doesn't enjoy his company—of course not—he just knows how foolish he's going to look if this keeps going. Maybe he should pretend to be angry. "I hate it," he hears himself say, only wavering a little.
Sirius notices the wobble. "You sound as if you're…"
Remus laughs, now obviously shaky, and gives up. He lifts his head, revealing a splotchy face as he wipes his eyes on his sleeve. "You really are a dog," he says, sniffling. "Are you going to lick my face to make me feel better?"
"Don't tempt me." Sirius scoots his chair closer, jittering across the floor until he's pressed up beside Remus. "What's wrong? It went fine. James doesn't care and neither does Lily. You know that."
"I know," Remus agrees, and a few more tears squeeze out.
"Then why are you crying?"
"I have no clue."
In response, Sirius slings an arm around his back and rests his head on his shoulder. "Are you sad?"
"N-no." Of all the pointless conversations they've had, and they've had plenty, Remus thinks this has got to be the most ridiculous. He's got everything laid out in front of him for once, and all he can do is blubber.
"Are you scared?" Sirius rubs his back. "The full moon's not for a week and a half. We've got time to work out whatever it is."
"I'm not scared," Remus mumbles, leaning into the embrace more for closeness than reassurance. "I'm happy."
"Well, that's good," Sirius says cautiously.
"You were right." Remus lets out a huge breath. "I've got great friends."
"I'm inclined to agree. And I suppose the others are all right, too." Sirius shifts to give him a little more room. "So why are you hiding in the library?"
"So I can bawl my eyes out in privacy."
"Fair enough. I still don't get why you're bawling at all."
"Because—ugh." Remus swallows, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. It doesn't help much. "Because I was so scared and it was such a big part of me for so long, and now we're about to graduate and—and I still don't know what I'm doing but it doesn't seem to matter anymore."
Sirius nods. "It's a relief when the whole world knows you're a flaming homosexual."
"Bisexual." Remus offers a trembling grin. "But still flaming. And yes, it is a relief."
"Well, you've got it made now." Sirius tips his chair back on two legs and returns the grin. "D'you reckon it's too late to ask the Potters to adopt me? I haven't really got anywhere to go. Lots of gold from Uncle Alphie, but nowhere to stay."
While he speaks, Remus regains a little more composure. "That's probably going to be the least of our worries," he says eventually. "You read the news as much as I do. We'll be living under a dictatorship soon. Well…" He bites back the words. I won't be living.
As if he hears them anyways, Sirius rushes to fill the silence. "There's always the Order."
"They won't let us join, we're just kids."
"We haven't been kids for a while." Sirius shakes his hair back from his eyes. "They need everyone they can get. Things are really heating up, Remus. This is a war."
In the stillness of the library, the sentence hangs heavy in the air. It doesn't feel like a war, Remus thinks, not really. Just another confusing part of getting older, and not one that he likes to think about. Yes, things are heating up, but graduation is only a few weeks away. "Whatever happens, you'll need a home first." He's not quite sure how he ended up on the other side of this argument.
"I still have a problem then, don't I?" Sirius shrugs. "It'll be fine, I'm sure. I could take off as Padfoot and see the world."
"You'd have fleas in a week." Remus smiles when Sirius shudders. "You don't have to leave, though." He feels the usual contraction of his heart at the thought.
"Where would I stay?"
"With me." He peeks up through his eyelashes and sees Sirius leaning his face on his hand. "What?"
"My god, Moony." Sirius has got this funny little half-grin on his face, and it's making Remus feel queer. "You can't mean that."
"Why wouldn't I?" he demands. "Look, I know it's small and in the middle of nowhere, but—"
"Why would you want me there?"
Remus blinks. Isn't it obvious?
Sirius exhales sharply. "You don't want to live with me, I promise. I'm moody and I break things when I'm angry. Also, I leave socks everywhere."
"I know, we've shared a dormitory for seven years."
"I'm worse outside of school," Sirius warns. "I swear, I'll drive you to drinking."
"For Merlin's sake, Sirius, I don't care!" Remus slaps the table. "I want you to stay with me. I want you to burn the house down when you're angry. I love you."
"You…" Sirius looks upset for a moment before laughing softly. "I know. I'm being too stubborn, aren't I?"
"Just a bit. I'm used to it." Remus picks at the cover of the Shrivelfig journal. "So, will you come live with me?"
"'Course I will." He flashes a wicked grin. "How else will we ever get the privacy to screw each other senseless?"
Remus blushes and hides his face behind the journal to conceal his own smile. "You're a bastard."
"So are you. I still have scratch marks on my back."
"Shut up! There's a difference between being out and oversharing." Remus leans forward through the gloom of the library and kisses Sirius's laughing mouth. This is the only thing in the world that matters. He swears it, by all of the hope coursing through his body. War will have to wait.