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Sirius was the king of Hogwarts. He wore a crown of red and gold fabric (only ever drunk). He sat and feasted like a King, one with the masses, but the center of attention nonetheless. It was closing in on the winter break when our King started to experience a series of events that lead to his inevitable downfall. Well, some of us consider it his downfall.
It started with an exchange during breakfast. Sirius sat surrounded by family. James Potter; brother in all but blood. Peter Petigrew; i'm sure they share an uncle somewhere. Remus Lupin; spilling his chocolate milk all over Sirius, because he wouldn't dare spill it over his precious chemistry book.
“Fuck, Moony, I don't have time to get changed. Please keep your rebellious act against human and inhuman nature out of my most definitely clean sparkling white uniform shirt. How can i possibly function in society in such an uncouth manner of dress.” Sirius made it clear that monologuing came easy to him. Listening to him whine dramatically into his ear at such an early hour of the morning, especially after his moonlight tango with the devil last night, was not exactly fun for our lovely Remus. He glared at the chocolate stains on Sirius’ shirt, hoping they would go away. They did, somehow, i'm not a magic expert like our nerd Moony is.
Sirius looked down at his shirt again, opened his mouth to recite an ode to Moony, another in a long list, when Remus’ glare move up, trailing his collarbones and shorting the bullet straight through his skull. Bam bam. There's a dead Sirius on the floor, Remus is the killer. One through the brain, one through the heart.
“Remus, are you staying for the break?” James, a saviour, in a different world, too late in this one, steps over Sirius’ dead body to ask the most banal of question. Remus only hums back in acquiescence and continued to eat and read at the same time, like the nerd that he is.
"You take care of our Siri, then.” James grinned. Teasing his friends was way too easy. Sirius immediately glared at James for the use of unapproved nicknames and Remus grimaced at the idea of being responsible during his break.
"I'll do my best to hand him back to you alive, but please know that I am the only danger Taft awaits him, Mother James.” Remus did not look up from his book as he answered dryly. James laughed. Sirius did too, only there was something behind his laugh. A sense of acceptance. Kings do not bow down. Kings do not allow treason to pass by so blatantly. Yet here is a king, so easily accepting it that it feels like he welcomes it, enjoys it even.
Peter Pettigrew, who, along with James potter, is abandoning our king for the winter, interrupts this. “Morning” It is but a whisper.
"Morning” James echoes back, loudly, clearly. James rarely acts shyly. The knight of the king does not need to act apprehensive in the face of anything. The King deserves nothing less. Remus looks up from his book to nod at him. Sirius grins at him as well. They are reunited for another day. Mischief may reign over the castles of magic.
***
It continues with a goodbye. James and Peter are sat in the train. Remus and Sirius stand so so close, shoulders touching as they wave at the train, using opposing hands, almost on purpose, just to be able to invade more of each other’s space.
It is, unsurprisingly, Sirius who breaks the silence.
"Hey, Moony, wanna do something stupid?” A grin graces Sirius' face. Remus’ face is stoic as his heart soars. He stares. He can do nothing but stare as Sirius grins at him. He keeps staring, for too long.
"Fuck.” Remus sighs. “Siri. When have I ever said no to something stupid?”
Sirius did not grimace at the nickname. In fact, his grin seemed to grow bigger, though that's probably because of Remus’ approval. Semantics, I guess.
***
It develops with a date, not that they're aware of the fact that it's a date. Sirius' plan involved sneaking out. He had pranks to pull on the deserters. Hogsmeade was his goal but Remus had a different idea. Near Hogsmeade there was a little village. Barely a village. More so a collection of houses and a couple of necessary business, very obviously local. The students of Hogwarts were rarely seen in this village but it was not completely unheard of. Our brave heroes held no fear in their hearts and no trepidation in their steps as they walked out of the castle and into, well, the forbidden forest. The forbidden forest was outside of our kings domain. The forbidden forest was not something to be conquered either. It simply was. it protected the horrors that chose to reside in it and chased away those that had intentions of disrupting the peace it painstakingly tries to create. It has, however, much to its displeasure, taken a liking to this quartet of disaster and chaos, so they are given free passage through the woods. Remus had walked through these woods so many times, it felt like home. Maybe it was the wolf’s instinct within him. Maybe, just maybe, he allowed himself to think, the wolf isn’t that bad, that the curse that he carries might not be so shallowly evil. He remembers going through the animagus process with his friends, his family. The mandrake leaves on his tongue, the promise of solidarity. It was mostly a joke, going through with it. When he found out what they were doing, he was curious. How much could it hurt, to go through with the process of turning more animal than he already is. He waved off the concerned look on Peter’s face and the worried nagging of James. How much could it hurt, to embrace something animalistic, something instinctual. He can’t bring himself to regret it. Seeing his friends, his family, transform was a fever dream. The changes he was going through were… acceptable. His magic is more instinctual, a light thrumming within his veins, rather than a bowl of sand he needs to reach into and take from. It is constantly within his reach, waiting patiently for a command to caress or to crush. The wolf is a friend, a comfortable arm to hold and steady himself on. He worries that if he transforms, willingly, he and the wolf would become the same. {“Would it be so bad?”} He ran his tongue along the fangs that had recently became a permanent fixture on his face. He watched Sirius become a fluffy black dog, completely comfortable in his animal form. He ached slightly, for a breathe that did not feel forced. He wished he didn’t need to tell his lungs to contract every time he breathed. He wished he didn’t need to remind himself that the body that held him was his to take care of, his to use. He wished he could breathe, and let the wolf breathe out. Like Sirius the dog. Like James the Stag. Like Peter the mouse. He considered transforming here, in his forest (he won’t admit it, ever, but this is the safest place for him) with his best friend, a dog of all things. The dog which was currently looking up at him with concerned puppy dog eyes. Remus smiled, hoping his smile was reassuring enough and kept walking in the direction of the little village.
In this village, there was a quaint little craft shop. It sold yarns and fabric and other art supplies. A set of paints immediately caught Sirius’ eyes and Remus smirked knowingly. Sirius felt like a whirlwind, a lot of the time. It was reassuring to know that Remus knew him, when it came down to what mattered.
They each went to their own section. Sirius painstakingly picking out which paints to get while Remus browsed the skeins in front of him. Neither had projects in mind, but picking colours, and in Remus’ case textures, was calming. To exist in this space of possibility and pick and choose until the material to create was theirs. To then go on to make something out of it, no matter how banal. Remus spotted yarn of a colour remarkably similar to Sirius’ grey eyes. Sirius spotted a paint tube containing the essence of Remus’ hair. They walk out of the shop having existed together yet separately, with more than they had walking in. Sirius looked at Remus, about to offer to carry his bag, only to realise, Remus (the sneaky bastard) was already carrying everything.
“Thanks” Sirius grumbled, grumpy at his chance of being gentlemanly stolen from him.
They bought hair dye next. I mean, how funny would it be if Dumbledore had to show up to school with a matching hair colour as James Potter, both strikingly hot pink.
There was a little food stand at this little village. It was a heavily decorated pizza stand. There was a little tree decked in lights and ornaments. On the wooden sign above the quite obviously magically powered oven, in an overly fancy cursive, the letter “Domino’s” were inscribe. Hanging from this sign there was a mistletoe.
“Don’t mind the sign. Don’t mind the sign. My name is Dominic. What would you fine gentlemen like this fine evening? We’ve got pizza. There’s also pizza. And potentially, pizza. That’s a joke for you.” The burly woman running the stand said, her accent heavy but unplaceable. She seemed to know more than she should, about anything and everything. There was a sparkle in her eyes and an edge to her smile. She seemed inhumanly kind and unfathomably monstrous. She grinned when she noticed them staring uncomfortably at the mistletoe. Remus’ eyes caught on the glint of her fangs and on her forked tongue. “Don’t worry. I won’t make you kiss anyone. There is a spell on the plant though. It will stick to you if your willing, but it’s my little secret what the spell is. Come on, Come on. Tell me what you’d like to eat. I’ll have a warm meal ready for you soon enough, it’s nice in this cold weather.”
Sirius steps closer to the stand, accepting of the spell, it could be fun after all. The stupidity and arrogance of kings, they hold their head too high and their crown falls down the other way. “We’ll take two slices, please, both with a lot of cheese.”
Dominic hands over the slices. The process of making them escapes but Sirius and Remus but the magic oozing off of this places was palpable, unknown yet comforting. Remus’ reminded himself that there was a necessity to the strictness of wands and words of magic. He reminded himself that he could not become that which he strives to control, because that means he would be controlled by it. He looked at the pizza slice. He looked at Dominic. He looked at his hands, his scarred hands. He wondered if his transformations would be easier if the wolf wasn’t something he wanted to strangle and push out of the shape of his existence. He wondered if the transformations would have been easier, if he was allowed to accept the wolf as inevitability, instead of being told to fight it, hide it, cure himself of it. He smiled a toothy grin at Dominic, who smiled right back. Both their fangs visible, long and sharp and shining in the moonlight.
The king and the beast walked in silence for a while. Until the kings knuckles deliberately touched against that of the monster’s.
“Are you feeling anything? In regards to the spell, i mean?” Remus asked Sirius, grabbing onto his hand, trying not to panic.
“No, nothing magic going on with me. Why? Worried about me or something, Moony? That’s awfully sweet of you. I’ll be sure to inform you of anything that ails me.” Sirius pretends to swoon.
“I just want to focus my attention on you if you’re going to suffer. You want to enjoy every detail.” Remus pretends not to catch him.
“My My, Moony. If i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were cruel and unforgiving. Do you not care at all for my wellbeing? Is my future of no interest to you? Am i so meaningless to you that you scorn me so? Your words wound me more than any spell ever could.” Sirius puts his hand over his heart and turns away from Remus. This loses most of its dramatic value as Sirius’ other hand is clutching onto Remus’ hand. It does not look like either of them are ever planning on letting go.
“Don’t worry, i’m not going to let you die. You facing the consequences of your actions amuses me” Remus answers dryly.
They continue bickering all the way back to the castle.
***
It grows with a series of facts, and how they are acknowledged.
Sirius paints Remus. The current canvas in the room depict scarred skin holding books. Remus reads in the room more often after catching a glimpse of the foundation of the creation.
Remus knits a scarf. When he finishes, he wraps it around his neck. Sirius only takes it off when he has to.
Sirius listens to music. He thinks of Remus when he does. Remus dances with him, softly, in their room at night, the furniture floating to get out their way. Sirius holds in his arms a god with glowing gold eyes and the mirage of a crown of bark and berries.
Remus reads poetry. When his voice rings clear in the silence of their room at night, Sirius listens. He knows the words are for him.
***
It progresses with an idea. Neither one of them know who’s it was. They threw it around like a hot potato until they were sitting in their shared room with the tattoo spell the Remus found in the forbidden section of the library. Remus was going to cast it, they decided, but Sirius would create the image that would appear. They had in front of them two pieces of parchment. One with shifting stars, one with a moon.
“I’ll go first” Sirius only whispered these words to create tension. There was no reason to stay silent.
“stinpoitis” Remus whispers it too, partially because saying the words felt redundant to him as he focused on actually willing the magic to act in the way he wants, but mostly because he adored the smile that Sirius had, after someone indulged him in his dramatics. It was supposed to be the stars that he was leaving on the Sirius’ left ankle, but it was the moon that engraved itself into Sirius’ skin, the parchment they were originally on dissipating.
“I. Shit sorry. That’s not what i wanted to happen.” Remus whispered.
“Happy accident. ‘‘Tis the season for it.” Sirius said softly. He looked at the tattoo as if this was the epitome of what he wanted, a mark to flaunt his loyalty. Remus wanted desperately to kiss him. He didn’t. Instead, he looked at the stars dancing around the parchment he was holding and laughed at the power he held. His magic giggled at the little goof it pulled, leaving in his hands, what he really wanted. He didn’t say the spell again but, he winked at Sirius and showed him two empty parchments.
***
It crescendos with a moment. Remus was laying on the ground. Flakes of snow fell around him. The pile on top of him shows that the time he was laying there was not negligible.
“Let’s get back inside, Moony. You’ll get sick.” Sirius stands over him.
Remus stretches his hand out, expecting Sirius to grab tightly onto his hand, which he does. Remus pulls him down, and Sirius falls. He feels like that’s all he’s been doing lately. Falling, falling, falling. Remus laughs. Of course he laughs. Sirius feels the laugh building in Remus’ chest as he wraps his arms around him. (He caught me, Sirius thinks).
“You’re a menace” Sirius whispers. Remus hums.
They lay like that for a while. Sirius digs his chin into Remus’s chest as he stares at the hills and valleys that form around Remus’ eyebrows.
“What’s running through your head?” Sirius whispers; anything louder would be a transgression.
“I want to be a librarian.” Remus grimaced as he said it out loud. It felt a bit pathetic to say. "There's this library near my house. The lady that's in charge of it knows about my wolfish nature and she doesn't mind. She said I could work for her but there's more to her library than a normal library. I want to be a magic librarian.”
“You're such a nerd, Moony. All you think about is books. The job would suit you. Don't forget about us wizards when you've off being a cursed book collector.” Sirius joked but a weight was taken off his chest. He knew remas struggled with the thought of the future. There weren't many job prospects when you carry with you magic different from the one that has been accepted, especially Remus wolf flavour of magic.
Remus laughs and holds Sirius tighter. He places his palms on his cheeks. Remus wants to kiss him. Remus wants so much. He wonders if hell ever get it if he keeps waiting. The decides he doesn't want to find out. He pulls Sirius’ face up to his and kisses him, softly The angle is awkward, and his own lips are chapped. He doesn't really know what he's doing but he thinks he wants to keep doing it for a while.
Sirius melts when Remus kisses him of course he does. He caught me, he thinks. Sirius the King a king no more. He is a fool in love with a wild beast. Does that not make him a wild beast too? They separate. Eons have past. They stand, on two legs and them on four. Both of them run, wildly into the forest, playful nipping at each other. The forest protects them from tripping but it cannot take back their fall.
***
It simmers. For years, through surviving and living. You can distance yourself from a war but you must survive it. They love through those years, but it is an underlying current under the pressure to survive. Sirius is a King on a battlefield, James his knight. Remus tucks the version of himself that he managed, just barely, to free under a mask and dances an elaborate dance of werewolf to gather intel. They survive, all of them. There is a universe, rife with betrayal, in which they don’t. In this one? In this one, Sirius the King takes off his crown and Remus the god he bows down to settles in front of him kneeling. They hold each others cheeks in their palms and they press their foreheads against each other and breathe the same air, both of them men, for as long as two scarred powerful, blood hungry creatures can be men.
***
It settles with Remus the librarian and Sirius the, albeit very rich, housewife. They tend to a cottage with a garden and they tend to each other. They feel too old and too young, but they try not to think of death. They have nieces and nephews, one of each actually. The Potters visit regularly. The Pettigrews, aren’t welcome. The memory of Peter can sit, occasionally, on their chest, but his presence anywhere near them is as welcome as a rat during a plague. The king fell of his throne, to settle, softly, in a house by the sea, forevermore.