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“Well, looks like Prongs and Wormy aren’t back yet,” Sirius muttered, trying to seem nonchalant as he and Remus walked into their dormitory. He stole a glance at Remus, shyly smiling at him before quickly looking down.
“Right,” Remus said as he took off his shoes. “They’ll probably come back pretty late tonight from Marlene’s party.” It was obvious that he, like Sirius, was also trying very hard to seem indifferent to the situation that they now found themselves in. They were both unsuccessful.
Is this happening? Is this actually happening? repeated the voice inside Sirius’s mind. For the tenth time that night, he wanted to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming.
Sirius and Remus had just gotten back from a nighttime walk of the Hogwarts grounds. Remus had seemed nervous, avoiding eye contact with Sirius, and stuttering over his words sometimes. Even Sirius, who was always so confident and in control, had felt butterflies in his stomach – a feeling wholly new to him. Even though Sirius and Remus had been friends for seven years and had spent plenty of time alone together, tonight had felt decidedly different. Tonight had been… a date? Sirius wasn’t entirely sure what tonight was – he was still trying to work that part out. But whatever tonight was, he didn’t want it to end.
Back in the dormitory, Sirius took off his jean jacket — actually, it was Remus’s jean jacket, which was about two sizes too big on Sirius. The March night air had been chilly, and Remus had offered his jacket to Sirius, who had just been wearing a t-shirt. After Remus had helped Sirius into the coat in the old-fashioned way, Remus had softly placed one hand on Sirius’s shoulder. It had lingered there for a half-second before Remus had removed it, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers before he resumed walking.
Sirius replayed that moment in his mind as he hung up the coat. The light pressure of Remus’s large hand on his shoulder. The shiver of excitement that had shot up through his back at Remus’s touch. Sirius’s heart leapt up into his throat as he recalled the moment.
That instance was the only time that Remus had touched him that night. Sirius had ached to touch Remus all night long – to grab his hand as they walked, to brush some flyaway hair away from his eyes – but Sirius hadn’t dared. He had vowed to himself before the date that he would wait to follow Remus’s cues tonight. Sirius wondered if Remus had been longing to touch him all night as well.
Here was the issue: Sirius really wasn’t sure how Remus felt about him. Admittedly, it was Remus who had asked him to go on the walk earlier in the week – but then again, it was just a walk. Sirius truly wasn’t sure of Remus’s motivations.
Of course, Sirius and Remus had been best friends since their first year, along with James and Peter. Sirius had loved Remus in the same way that he loved all the marauders – as a friend. But something had changed after they had returned from their summer holidays to start their seventh year.
It had begun in September, when Sirius had started noticing details about Remus that he hadn’t necessarily noticed before. Sirius would find himself noticing how Remus’s light brown hair softly fell over his forehead as he bent over his notes in class, how soft Remus’s voice was as he explained a particularly complicated Charms concept to Peter, how his wool jumper would ride up when he reached to grab a library book from the top shelf, exposing an inch of the skin on his stomach.
As the weeks went by and fall became winter, Sirius moved out of the observation phase and into a new one: the nervous phase. When he heard Remus’s footsteps coming down the hallway into their dormitory, he could feel his whole body tense with anticipation. Every time Remus walked into the room, Sirius’s heart would quicken.
Then came the last phase. When Remus and Sirius reunited after Christmas break, Remus lightly slapped him on the back to greet him. At Remus’s touch, Sirius immediately felt a jolt of excitement course through his entire body. That was new. From that moment on, that jolt became all too common. Sirius’s entire existence became all about Remus, all the time.
This new state of mind had been delightful and exhilarating, while agonizing and heart-wrenching at the same time. Sirius had thought that Remus would never reciprocate his feelings. Remus had only ever treated Sirius as a friend – a dear friend – but just a friend.
Until things had changed.
As winter had melted away into spring, Remus had started acting differently towards Sirius. Sirius first had noticed a nervous tone in Remus’s voice when they conversed – it was subtle, but it was there. Then Remus had become slightly abrupt and awkward, like he was very conscious of his every word, expression, and movement.
At night, Sirius would replay in his mind every interaction that he had with Remus that day: how Remus had complimented him on his flying after a quidditch practice, how close Remus had sat next to him at breakfast that morning, how he had caught Remus sneaking a glance at him during Potions class. Sirius would rake over the details of these interactions, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t just imagining things. There had to be something there.
And then, one Monday night towards the end of March, it happened. Sirius and Remus were in the library finishing up their Potions essay. It was getting late, and most of the other students had already filed out, James and Peter having packed it in two hours earlier.
Sirius and Remus had just decided to call it a night, when Remus abruptly began, “Hey, um… by the way, there was something I, ugh… wanted to ask you, Pads.” His eyes remained fixed on his Potions textbook.
Sirius’s heart stopped beating for a second. “Sure, shoot.” He smiled at Remus and leaned back in his chair, trying his best to appear cool and confident, despite his mind screaming, YES! YES! YES!
There was a brief silence. Remus swallowed, still looking away from Sirius. “Well, ugh… I was thinking… um, well, I was wondering if you’d… if on Friday night, if, um…” Remus finally raised his eyes to meet Sirius’s and the words tumbled out all at once: “— if you’d maybe like to go on a walk around the grounds with me?”
Sirius flashed Remus a brilliant smile. “I’d love to, Moony.”
The days until Friday passed by at an achingly slow pace for Sirius. He could barely concentrate in his classes, losing 15 house points in total and even earning himself a detention with McGonagall.
In a fortunate turn of events, the marauders were invited to a Hufflepuff party on Friday night. Remus and Sirius declined the invitation, saying that Remus needed to help Sirius learn a difficult arithmancy concept that night. James, of course, was annoyed that they would pass up a party to study on a Friday night, but he eventually accepted it.
Finally, Friday arrived. Sirius completely lost his appetite, but he forced himself to eat so that Remus wouldn’t notice. Sirius counted down the hours until James and Peter left for the party, when he and Remus could finally be alone together.
And now we’re here, Sirius thought. He and Remus were here in their dormitory together – alone. Yes, Sirius still didn’t know how Remus felt about him, but he was sure that tonight they were something other than “just friends.” Again, Sirius's stomach filled with butterflies at the thought.
Merlin, why are you so nervous, Padfoot, Sirius’s internal voice yelled at him. Get it together, man… being charming is what you’re supposed to be good at!
Sirius sat on the edge of his bed and leaned back, giving Remus what Sirius hoped was his most winningly sly grin. “So. What are we going to do now, Moony?”
“Um, well… I guess I was thinking… um, maybe we could listen to some of my records. Actually, my mom just sent me Bowie’s new album. So, we could listen to that, I guess – only if you want to, I mean.”
“No way — I can’t believe you’ve got a copy of it already! I’ve been begging my cousin to post it to me.”
Remus pulled out his old record player from under the bed and placed it on his bedside table. Then he opened his trunk and pulled out a bright orange album. It read “Low” on the cover and was emblazoned with a vibrant painting of Bowie, looking as stunning and regal as ever.
“Brilliant,” Sirius breathed as Remus put the record on. “Critics are saying it’s really good – maybe even one of his best.” Tinny electronic music rose from the record player.
Remus didn’t respond, but rather awkwardly walked over to Sirius’s bed and sat down at the foot, several feet away from where Sirius was sitting near the head. It seemed that Remus wasn’t sure where to look, so he settled on examining the pattern on Sirius’s duvet. They fell silent as they listened to the music.
Remus cleared his throat. “Um, you know, I’ve been dying to listen to the album since it came in the post, but I, um, I wanted to wait until I could listen to it with you.” Remus looked over at Sirius and shyly smiled. “The music always sounds better when I’m with you, Pads.”
Sirius’s heartbeat quickened, but he tried to play it off cool. “You flatter me, Moony.”
Remus swallowed hard and abruptly stood up. “Do you want some Firewhiskey?”
“Oh yeah, that’d be great, thanks,” Sirius answered, a bit surprised. Remus wasn’t a huge drinker and Sirius had never known him to buy a bottle of whiskey before. Remus must have secretly bought it at the Hog’s Head Inn during a trip to Hogsmeade.
Remus secretly buying alcohol – that’s a good sign for me, Sirius thought happily.
Remus walked over to his trunk and pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey and two tumblers.
With a small wave of his hand, Remus used wandless magic to pour the whiskey into the tumblers. Sirius had never seen Remus do that spell before.
Sirius smirked. He must have been practicing that trick all week.
In any case, Remus executed the spell perfectly. He brought the two half-filled tumblers over to the bed and handed one to Sirius before taking a seat. One. Foot. Away. From. Sirius.
The butterflies that had been fluttering away inside Sirius's stomach all night long seemed to erupt in a large burst, coursing through his entire body. MERLIN.
Sirius took a large drink of the cinnamon-flavoured whiskey and felt the familiar burning sensation as it went down. “Never tastes any better, does it.”
“No, it does not.” Remus grimaced as he gulped his own drink down.
Sirius looked up at Remus’s face beside him and smiled. “By the way, Remus, I’m really glad we did this tonight.”
Remus looked down at Sirius. A slight smile began to form on Remus’s lips, and then a flash of something else crossed his hazel eyes. The next thing Sirius knew, Remus leaned forward and pulled Sirius into a deep, hard, brilliant kiss. YES. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Sirius’s mind repeated as they sat there on the bed, completely lost in each other as Bowie played in the background.
…
Later that night, James and Peter tipsily stumbled back into their dorm room to find Remus and Sirius completely passed out, sitting beside each other on the floor and leaning against the foot of Sirius’s bed, with about a dozen records sprawled around them.
“Well, guess we know they had fun tonight,” Peter hiccupped as he crawled into bed.
James yawned. “Moony and Padfoot and their records… I guess some things never change.” And with a swish of his wand, James turned off the light.