Chapter Text
Don't leave me, stay here and frighten me
Don't leave me, come now enlighten me
Give me all you got, give me your wallet and your watch
Give me your first-born, give me the rainbow and the...
--Sia, "Fair Game"
James’ and Lily’s wedding was small and Remus knows it is small because all their loved ones are all either scared, in hiding, or dead. He didn’t know things could be so beautiful during a war, but Lily looked so ethereal gliding across the cramped dance floor in her champagne-colored dress that Remus felt, for a moment, like there might be glory in the world still.
The ceremony had been emotional, quick. Remus had cried into his handkerchief not once but twice, and he had watched Sirius tense face during the wedding vows. The three Marauders had stood next to James, his groomsmen, with Sirius standing solemnly as best man. Peter had been fidgety, a little gloomy. Remus had thought Peter looked like how it it might feel when your parent remarried and you went from being a child to a stepchild, suddenly desperate to be the center of attention again. It was cruel, perhaps, but Remus felt so far away from their schoolboy days that he almost couldn’t dredge any of the familiar pity for Peter. Almost.
He wasn’t sure how he had ended up resting against the wall of the tiny, warm barn, watching the small congregation of guests enjoy themselves. Almost all of the remaining Order had come, both to celebrate and to protect. Remus watched Mad-Eye waltz with McGonagall and felt a small sob rise like a dry heave up his throat. It hurt to be happy, even in this small sanctuary of warmth and flickering enchanted candlelight. Outside, Remus knew, it was dark and full of terrors.
“Moony.”
The soft, low voice behind him sent shivers up Remus’ spine and he turned to see Sirius standing partially in shadow. He looked so handsome in his white shirt with sleeves rolled up, tie already loose, vest already rumpled--Remus felt his throat tighten again.
“Pads,” Remus smiled slightly, “why aren’t you out there cutting a rug?”
Sirius shook his head, grinning ruefully, “I don’t want to show up James on his special day. We both know if I got out there I’d make him look like a right fool.”
Remus reached out to take Sirius’ hand, drawing him closer. “You dance like a headless hippogriff, Sirius, it’s quite pathetic, really.”
Sirius managed a quiet huff of laughter before shadows took over the lines in his face. Already Sirius had aged so much. They all had, Remus knew; he had found clump of silver hair at his temple earlier that morning.
Sirius dropped Remus’ hand but reached out to soothe an errant curl from his forehead. “You look so pensive, Moony. Obviously you haven’t had enough to drink tonight.”
“I don’t drink anymore,” Remus looked away, “you know I think you should stop, too.”
“If Voldemort finds me it won’t matter if I’m drunk or not, Moony,” Sirius sounded exasperated, “let a man his little pleasures, God help me.”
They were both silent for a few moments, standing side-by-side and watched James and Lily dance to a slow harp melody, staring into each other’s eyes without smiling.
“I always imagined their wedding being happier,” Remus whispered, “but now all I can think about is dying.”
Sirius’ cold fingers circled his wrist, squeezing tightly. “Try and put it all out of your mind, Moony, just for the night. It’s the least we can do, for them.”
Remus’ turned his head so him so he was facing Sirius. Their height difference had grown less pronounced over the years, but Remus still secretly reveled in the good couple of inches between them. He looked down so their noses were almost touching, too vulnerable to be embarrassed at the thought of who might see them. While none of their friends except James and Lily had ever asked them if they were together, Remus was still sure everyone knew. No one cared; not now. It didn’t matter who you found solace in during this times. Remus was grateful for the silence more than anything.
“Moony--” Sirius’ thought was cut off when the band began playing an old muggle love song from the sixties. James’ must have asked them to, the sap. The song reminded Remus to intimately, so painfully, of the muggle records they would play over the summers of their teen years that he felt it like a physical blow.
Sirius’ eyes widened and his mouth quirked down like he was going to cry before it bounced back into a grin. “Oi, Moony, why don’t we have a dance? Let’s both show James what a good waltz looks like, the sod.”
For a moment Remus was fully prepared to say, “Sirius, absolutely not, that’s a terrible idea” when he realized how ridiculous it was to say no.
“I’m not going to dip you, Pads,” Remus grinned before taking Sirius’ hand and tugging him out to the space where everyone was laughing and spinning.
And I will stroll the merry way
And jump the hedges first
And I will drink the clear
Clean water for to quench my thirst
Remus and Sirius truly did dance like two animals but all that mattered to Remus was the joy in Sirius’ face and his loose limbs as they shuffled and moved together and then apart again. James and Lily were smiling and laughing at them, and Remus closed his eyes to memorize the sound of the music and Sirius’ barking laugh.
And I will never grow so old again
And I will walk and talk
In gardens all wet with rain
Everything was slow and warm and summertime at the Potters’ home Sirius as a laughing youth with dark eyes and wicked smiles and strong hands and Remus felt all the love he had ever felt for Sirius like a sharp thorn in his heart so painful it was pure pleasure. The song surrounded him like the strongest spell, the greatest protective charm, blocking out the darkness and encroaching doom that waited for him just outside the little barn. Everything narrowed down to Sirius’ rough, warm hands in his own and the familiar smell of Sirius’ hair and sweat thick in Remus’ throat.
Oh sweet thing, sweet thing
My, my, my, my, my sweet thing
And I will raise my hand up
Into the night time sky
And count the stars
That's shining in your eye
When the song ended James clapped Sirius on the back, laughing uproariously while Lily took a few photos and out of the corner of his eye Remus could see Peter watching them all as if for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to be a part of something he obviously belonged to.
“Bloody hell, neither of you can dance.” James chuckled, ruffling Sirius’ hair. “That was right beautiful, that was. Brought a tear to mine eye.”
“We had to do something to brighten up this snooze fest, Prongs,” Sirius grinned, “there’s only so much of you and Lily staring adoringly at each other a man can take.”
Lily smacked his arm and the four of them started laughing again, oblivious to the room around them. Remus looked into Sirius’ dark eyes and felt happiness in the marrow of his bones, in all the recesses of his mind where it had fled. He closed his eyes again and let his friends’ laughter break over him like waves.
Later, after many of of the guests had said their goodbyes and disappeared into the treacherous night, Sirius and Remus sat side by side on the floor with their backs against the wall in the far corner of the room. Lily was sitting with James at a rickety table in the center with Peter and Kingsley, who were drunkenly recounting some of James’ greatest Quidditch moments.
“I can’t remember the last time we were all together like this,” Sirius said quietly, “pretending like everything was fine.”
Remus smoothed his thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand, “it must have been while we were still in school.”
Sirius was quite, dark, full of shadows. Remus felt like a first year again, caught between reverence and fear at the sight of someone who was so obviously full of equal parts destruction and pure brilliant light. An angel, Remus had often thought in his very maudlin moments, Sirius was like an angel from an old Renaissance painting. Terrifying, larger than life, yet still holy and promising salvation.
“Sirius.”
Sirius looked up, eyebrows coming together, “What is it, Moony?”
“I--” Remus struggled to form the words that would somehow convey the shattered glass in his chest as coherent feelings. “I...I want us to be like this, always.”
Sirius looked taken aback for a moment before smiling, “Vaguely aroused together in a barn, arses asleep, listening to James talk about himself?”
“No--”
“I know what you mean, idiot.” Sirius laughed before leaning over and kissing Remus roughly, tugging at his hair and then at his collar.
They broke apart and Remus felt like a seventh year again, drunk on Sirius’ kisses and unable to believe he was lucky enough to be the one receiving them.
“We’ll always be like this, Moony,” Sirius said quietly, “I won’t let anything change it.”
Remus watched the candlelight cast long, flickering shadows across Sirius’ aristocratic face. For a moment, they made him almost recognizable.
Then the moment passed and Remus pulled them together for another kiss, as brief and as illuminating as lightning.