Archive of Our Own

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"There's a full moon
Rising above your head
With everything in bloom

I wanna carry you
Carry you on back to bed"

-'Full Moon', The National Forest

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Sirius always knew when the full moon was coming.

It wasn’t just the simple acknowledgement of the waxing gibbous in the sky; rather, it was the way Remus’ body curled in on itself a bit more than usual. The way he stooped as though he was shying away from the horrible ache Sirius knew was in his bones. The part of him that was Padfoot could practically smell the pain that radiated from him, and he always found himself hovering at his shoulder a bit more than usual, eager to do what he could to alleviate it.

Remus, of course, was always quick to brush it off as nothing more than a minor inconvenience. But he had small tells- his voice breaking at the end of an ‘I’m alright, Pads’, or the way he sometimes failed to hide a wince when he sat down in the Great Hall for breakfast.

When they were alone- when it was just Moony and Padfoot, and James and Peter hadn’t yet returned to their dorm -Remus’ self-enforced shield would slip just enough to let Sirius in, to let him soothe the ache. He would sometimes wait for him to come back from a class they didn’t share. He’d sprawl across Remus’ bed, comfortable in the knowledge that the other boys wouldn’t be back before him. They hadn’t told them quite yet about the newer development in their relationship. Moony would slip into the room, quiet despite the way he favored his right hip a bit more than the left, and the way his forehead creased as though he was putting all his focus into not showing how much pain he felt. Sirius would meet his gaze, arms already open, and Remus would drop his books and slide into them, long frame curled impossibly tiny against Sirius’ smaller one. He would kiss the scars on his face, fingers tracing behind his lips against the fever-heat of Remus’ skin. Remus would tuck his face into Sirius’ neck, breathing into him as if the mere scent of him could steal away the hurt.

This would only be the second full moon since they’d finally confessed to each other, at the tail end of fifth year. Sirius had spent the summer holiday teetering between telling himself it was real, and convincing himself it was all a terribly sweet dream. Thankfully, he’d managed to keep with the former, if only to motivate him through the terrible ordeal of being in the presence of Walburga and Orion Black for an entire summer.

Not that he’d lasted that long, this time around. His mother was especially heavy handed with the unspeakables that summer. He was one Crucio away from his untimely grave when he finally felt his resolve crack, and he ran, apparating to the only place he could think of in his pain induced haze. He was lucky he hadn’t splinched himself in his delirium. Prongs had told him as much, when he’d found him on his doorstep in a crumpled heap. But his scolding was soft, and his hands were gentle and careful as he’d helped his best mate inside and into the arms of the parents he’d always longed to have. Walburga disowned him, after that. He’d finally committed one transgression too many as the heir. His only regret was leaving his little brother all alone with her, to bear his burden.

When he’d seen Remus again in the carriage on the first day back at Hogwarts, he’d nearly climbed into his skin. He’d kept his composure, though, until Remus had held him back in the dorm, sending Peter and James ahead for dinner while he checked Sirius over for new bruises and curse marks. It hadn’t gone by unnoticed that Sirius had arrived with James. Sirius wanted to say he’d begrudgingly allowed the nursing, but he’d practically melted into the floor the second Remus’ hands brushed feather-light across his skin. And then he’d returned the favor, searching for new full moon scars, careful not to press down when his fingers caught on raised skin.

They’d kissed until Sirius felt like Remus had borrowed all the breath from his lungs, and then they’d joined the boys at dinner as though they’d merely discussed their schedules for the upcoming year. Sirius was sure he’d caught a suspicious glint in James’ eye, but he’d chosen to ignore it. The hushed discussion in the Hall about Sirius was enough of a distraction to keep him quiet, anyhow.

Now, they were only a day from the full, and Sirius was doing his damndest to help Remus through it. It pained him to know that he’d suffered two transformations alone over the summer holidays, locked up like an untamed animal. He wished with all his willpower that he could move forward from the ridiculous obligation of being the heir to the House of Black; that he could simply wrap up his time at Hogwarts and dive into a life with Remus. That he could be with him through every transition, so that he’d never have to suffer alone again. He wasn’t sure entirely what track his future might take from here, but he intended to do what he could to make it carry him straight into Remus’ arms.

He was sure if Moony could read his mind, he’d scold him; tell him his life was his own, and that he should choose its course with his own self in mind, now that he had a proper choice.

He scoffed at the thought, kicking his feet against one of the wooden posters framing Remus’ bed. He’d finished with Charms fifteen minutes ago, and he knew Remus would be back for his free period any moment now. Prongs and Wormy had Potions together, so they wouldn’t be back to the dorms anytime soon. Free bits of time like this were of the few occasions Sirius had ever forced himself to be punctual, so he could use them to steal away with Remus.

He perked up at the sound of footsteps, the shadow of Padfoot in his movements. He swung his feet off the bed before the door could open, conscious of the fact that he was still wearing shoes. He didn’t want to start off his time with Moony being scolded by him.

Remus looked especially worn today. His eyes reflected the wild tint of the Full, and he grimaced openly the second he was through the dormitory door. Sirius pushed himself to his feet, kicking off his shoes and padding to him in his socked feet. He reached up, gingerly offering his open palm to Remus’ cheek without actually touching. He hovered there, a silent question in the air, until Remus relented, books sliding to the floor and cheek pressing into Sirius’ proffered hand.
He let out a sound somewhere between a sigh of relief and a groan of pain.

“Moony,” Sirius murmured, gently tapping his fingers against Remus’s cheek and sliding forward until he could feel the heat wave of his skin.

“Pads,” Moony’s reply was strangled, like it had fought its way past his lips.

He reached out with both hands, pressing the warmth of them into Sirius’ skin as he pulled him the rest of the way toward himself, and then folded himself around him.

“I don’t know how I ever did this without you,” he muttered, voice barely audible against Sirius’ neck.

Sirius opted to remain silent, pushing his free hand carefully into Remus’ hair instead.

They managed to make their way back to the bed without untangling from each other, somehow. Remus curled into himself tighter than Sirius had ever seen before, and Sirius did his best to curve around him, to be his shield. He pressed his mouth to Remus’ forehead, and Remus’ fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging slightly.

“S’alright, Moony,” he whispered, shifting to kiss the hair at his temple, “m’here.”

Remus ducked down, tucking up under Sirius’ chin like he couldn’t get close enough.

“I know,” he finally croaked in response, breath against Sirius’ throat sending a shiver through him.

They stayed like that until Sirius was forced to free an arm and cast a Tempus charm to check the time.

“Moony,” he spoke quietly, gently brushing a hand up his back. “It’s time for you to go to History of Magic.”

There was a long pause where neither spoke, and Sirius wondered if Moony was dead asleep, but then he shifted slightly.

“Nvr th- I’d s th’ day,” he mumbled, voice muffled enough by the press of his face against Sirius’ skin to make his words inaudible.

“What was that?” Sirius asked, lips quirking slightly in amusement.

Moony breathed a heavy breath against his neck before shifting back a bit.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” he repeated, “Sirius Black, telling me not to be tardy to a class?”
Had it been anyone else, Sirius would’ve flinched at the use of his surname.

Instead, he rolled his eyes.

“Come on now, Moony. Don’t be a prat about it.”

Remus chuckled, and the sound warmed Sirius all the way down to his toes.

“But really,” he groaned, flopping his face forward again, “five more minutes.”

Sirius felt his lips spread into a grin.

“But you gotta,” he pressed, “you have a Prefect image to uphold.”

Remus groaned again, finally leaning back enough to reveal his sleep-warmed face.

“Real good one there, mate.”

“I thought it was pretty clever,” Sirius beamed.

Despite his attempts to look agitated, Remus couldn’t hide the warm affection in his gaze. The wild tinge of the full moon had receded a bit, now.

“If you go now,” Sirius told him, checking his Tempus again, “you’ll make it with ten minutes to spare. Bit late for the typical Remus, but not so bad for an off day.”

Remus raised a speculative eyebrow.

“Should I be concerned that you, of all people, have analyzed me this cleanly?”

Sirius gasped in mock-offense.

“I’m hurt, Moony. What kind of fool do you take me for?”

Remus made an almost playful sound in his throat, surging up with speed and strength that could only be attributed to the moon and pinning Sirius beneath him. He was less in pain like this, Sirius knew, when he was channeling the moon into his movements. Even if it was only a temporary reprieve.

“You are incorrigible, Sirius,” Moony growled at him, pressing a firm kiss directly to his mouth before nipping at his chin.

Sirius shrugged, as much as he could with Remus’ hands pressing down on his shoulders.

“So says Walburga,” he smirked, “but you love that about me.”

“I do,” Remus agreed immediately, looking down at him in a way that made him want to fly into the atmosphere, or sink into the mattress.

“But you still have to go to class, because you’re not incorrigible, Remus Lupin,” Sirius told him cheekily.

Remus sighed, again.

“You’re correct,” he told him, sitting back with a wince before pointing an accusing finger at Sirius, “but don’t think for a moment I’m letting you skip your class, Sirius.”

Sirius groaned.

“Moony, I only took divination as a joke.”

“Well, it still counts if you fail it, Sirius. No matter how unserious it is to you,” Remus scolded.

“Ugh, alright, alright,” Sirius relented, pulling himself into a sitting position and swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. “I suppose it’s only fair.”

“What’s fair is foul and foul is fair,” Remus replied, standing from the other side of the bed.

“What’s that, Shakespeare?” Sirius snorted.

Remus glanced over at him from where he stood, adjusting his school sweater over the collared shirt underneath.

“Color me surprised by your wits for the second time this afternoon,” he drawled, grinning cheekily at Sirius’ immediately offended expression. “Walk me to class?”

“I suppose I could,” Sirius grumbled, and then, under his breath, “even though you’re being a knob.”

“What was that?” Remus asked, as if Siris didn’t know damn well he could hear him with his moon-enhanced wolfy hearing.

“Nothing.” He told him.

He shoved his feet back into his shoes and stood, joining Moony at the door where he was gathering the books he’d dropped. He slid his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels a little as he watched him swap out the books he wouldn’t need for the correct ones.

“And where are your books?” He suddenly asked, stepping toe to toe with Sirius and looking down his nose at him.

Sirius shrugged.

“You can’t expect too much of me, Moony,” he grinned.

“I suppose not,” Moony breathed out, pressing a kiss to his forehead in the same moment he reached out to pinch at his side.

Sirius yelped a little, much to his embarrassment.

“Moony!” He scolded, jumping back a step.

Remus shrugged, flashing his teeth in a way that made a flush rise to the tips of Sirius’ ears.

Sirius floundered for a moment as Remus turned on his heel and left the room, but then his legs kicked back into gear and he followed behind. He would never admit it to anyone, but he may have pouted all the way down through the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Thankfully, no one was in the common room or elsewhere to bear witness should James try to pull it out of him later. Even the Fat Lady portrait was sleeping soundly, snoring away. The only danger to his image was Remus himself.

“Are you quite done moping, Pads?”

Speak of the devil.

“The Great Sirius does not mope,” Sirius declared haughtily.

“Ah. Pouts, then?” Remus amended, eyes sweeping sidelong to his face.

His lips were curled in an infuriatingly attractive smile, and Sirius could think of nothing but kissing him for at least thirty seconds. Thirty seconds too long, apparently.

“Pouts it is, then.”

Sirius grunted in a combination of protest and grudging acceptance. Remus was terribly difficult to outwit. Another thing he’d be caught dead before admitting aloud.

They remained in mostly comfortable silence for the duration of their walk through the castle. Sirius very strongly considered ditching Divination after he dropped Remus at the door to his classroom, but his mind conjured up a disturbingly life-like image of Remus’ disappointed expression when he inevitably found out, and he dropped the idea.

Still, he could hardly be counted as present when the Professor’s droning sent him into a near-coma. By the time he was freed from the torment of it, he felt like he’d unlearned a few things out of pure mindlessness. His other classes were barely an improvement, but he managed to pull through and make it to the dining hall, where his friends already waited.

“Gee, Pads, you look like you might’ve actually suffered through all your classes for once,” James told him as he sat heavily on the bench next to Moony.

He could feel Remus’ appraising gaze in his peripheral, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of meeting it. He scoffed at Prongs instead.

“I am a perfectly diligent student, thank you kindly.”

James offered him a very lopsided, very James smile.

“Sure thing, mate.”

He dutifully ignored Remus’ low chuckle from his right, even as he noticed the plate in front of him already filled with some of his favorite foods. Maybe his cheeks were a little redder than usual, and maybe he was glad he’d pushed his shirt sleeves to his elbows before this; what about it? He was not some tittering school girl with a crush, fawning over every little act of kindness. He was not. But maybe the thought of Remus caring enough to know what food he liked most and having it ready for him ahead of time was a little endearing, he supposed.

He shifted slightly in his seat as Remus’ thigh pressed intentionally against his, torn between holding a deadpan expression and trying to look casual. In the process, he locked eyes with James where he sat directly across the table from him. His eyes were practically glimmering, the giddy prat. Thankfully, he said nothing of it.

The rest of their meal passed with the usual banter, Peter pitching in here and there when he bothered to unbury his nose from his book. By the time they were all settled in their room, Sirius was filled with tension. Moony would be missing from classes all day tomorrow, leading into his transformation. He’d be at the peak of his pain and misery, and there was hardly anything Sirius could do about it. He had half a mind to just skip all his own classes for the day.

He paused in his tuned out frenzy of thoughts as Remus emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and staring straight at him. Peter and James had already retired to their beds, curtains drawn and spells cast. They’d drawn straws on who would get the bathroom first just for kicks, and Remus had come dead last.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Remus asked him, slinging his towel across his shoulders to catch the last few drops of water from his still damp hair.

“Who says I’m thinking anything at all?” Sirius rebutted.
Remus snorted a little.

“You’re practically blowing steam from your ears, Pads.”

Sirius frowned, eyebrows drawing together and forming a rather stern expression for a usually unserious face. It took Remus all of two strides to be directly in front of him. His thumb went to the crease that had formed, smoothing the skin there.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

Sirius diverted his gaze for a moment, almost embarrassed that he was drawing comfort from Remus for something silly while he was well and truly in pain.

“It’s just-” he hesitated, “you shouldn’t have to be by yourself.”

“I won’t be,” he replied immediately. “You know that, Sirius. I’ll have you and Peter and James with me, like always, won’t I?”

“No,” Sirius shook his head, “I mean before that. We all have to go to class and you have to stay here and suffer all alone.”

“Well, when you put it like that-” Remus joked lighty, pursing his lips.

“Moony.” Sirius breathed his name like a sigh.

“Pads, if this is your way of petitioning to stay with me and skip your classes, you know my answer.”

“Tomorrow is the worst of it, I can help you!” Sirius protested, feeling like a child.

Remus’ gaze softened almost imperceptibly.

“I know you can, but they’ll notice if you’re not in class, too. And Professor McGonagall will know exactly where you’ve disappeared to. At least go to your morning classes,” he implored, “for me.”

Sirius sagged in defeat. Yet another full out victory for Moony.

“Alright, fine,” he replied finally, “but I make no commitments past that point.”

Remus flashed him a smile that nearly stole his breath away before finishing the job by stealing it with a drawn out kiss. Sirius leaned into it, toes curling and anxiety melting away momentarily. He unconsciously chased after him when he pulled away, drawing a laugh from him.

“Goodnight then, Pads.”

He drew his fingers across his cheek, eyes warm and honeyed.

“G’night, Moony,” Sirius whispered back, pressing his fingers over Remus’ before pulling away.

He tried not to think too hard as he climbed into his bed, but his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions at all times, and it took him a good hour to calm down enough to fall into a restless sleep.

—

Sirius fidgeted as if he were eleven years old again, freshly at Hogwarts and just barely recalling the punishment that followed when he couldn’t fit the mold of the Perfect Heir. His restlessness dogged at his heels through each and every class and meal he attended, to the point where others took notice and shared their distaste, or concern. Severus Snape was of the former grouping.

“Somewhere more important you need to be, Black?” He snarled from his desk, which was adjacent to Sirius’ in the Transfiguration classroom.

His expression was the proper definition of affronted, as if Sirius’ incessant tapping of his foot was a direct attack on him. He supposed it could be, in a way. Sirius managed his usual eye roll, despite the worry coiled like a serpent in his chest.

“None of your concern, Snivellus,” he sneered, tapping with renewed energy out of spite.

He watched in rather smug satisfaction as Severus’ pasty face turned a near vibrant shade of red. He was sure the git would’ve launched from his seat had the Professor not chosen that exact moment to ask the two of them if they had something more important to share with the class than the lesson she was currently teaching.

“No, ma’am,” Snape told her through clenched teeth, obviously narked that he couldn’t give Sirius his comeuppance for the insult.

That bout lifted Sirius’ mood just enough to make it through the rest of Transfiguration, and halfway through lunch before he was back to squirming in his skin. This time, it was Peter who noticed; James was late due to some teacher’s pet task he’d committed to, or else it’d likely have been him trying to pry.

“What’s got you so fidgety, mate? Is it because of the Full?”

Sirius glanced over at his friend, trying his best to paste on his usual carefree grin. He’d been through his fair share of Fulls with the lot of them, but this one was truly getting to him. Even he had to admit that; but not to Peter. Not even to James.

“Naw, just a bit miffed that I’ve made it through every single class this morning. But I can’t lose a bet with myself, so I’ve gotta soldier on,” he shrugged.

Peter gave him a bemused look.

“It is rather impressive,” he agreed, “I think you might even break your record if you keep at it.”

Sirius nodded sagely.

“Indeed, indeed,” he replied, pitching his voice to the tone of an old, wise wizard.

Peter laughed at him, shaking his head and returning his nose to the book he’d been buried in before Sirius’ movements had drawn his attention.

Sirius tempered himself a bit better after that. He knew James would catch on in a millisecond if he kept on with it, especially if Peter had noticed enough to stop part way through a chapter.

Thankfully, Prongs was distraction enough for himself when he joined them, whinging about the project he’d been helping his Astronomy professor with as if he hadn’t personally volunteered for it. Sirius tuned him out a little, focus split between keeping his foot still and counting the seconds passing by, leading him closer to Moony.

He was sure James at the very least noticed his overeager strides from the bench to the doors of the Great Hall after lunch. But he didn’t say a word, so Sirius didn’t let himself dwell on the thought. He put all his energy into walking quickly through the familiar corridors and up the many stairs of the grand castle, every step inching him closer and closer to the one person he cared to see today.

If the Fat Lady scolded him for waking her and for being too impatient, he couldn’t be blamed. He was a man on a mission, and he intended to see it through. He did, however, regret busting through the door to his shared dorm with enough force to draw Remus into a defensive, upright stance on his bed. He was surprised he didn’t growl at him, with the way his eyes glinted wolf amber against the tired pallor of his face. He hadn’t even drawn his wand.

“Moony, moony- I’m sorry,” Sirius murmured, hands open in placation.

Remus relaxed fractionally once he realized who the intruder was, but the tension still sat rigid in his bones. It wasn’t just the reaction to the intrusion holding him stiff- he was in pain. Sirius switched his hands from a position of apology to one of offering, slipping off his shoes and sliding a few steps forward.

“Sirius,” Remus groaned, sitting back on his bed in a defeated slump.

That was all the invitation Sirius needed.

He quickly erased the last bit of distance between them, climbing onto Remus’ bed and behind him. He slid his legs on either side of him, leaning back against the wall and nudging Remus to lean against him. His nose was in his hair, and he couldn’t really see, but he didn’t mind one bit. Moony relaxed against him for a moment, breathing uneven and shallow, and hands clenched into the fabric covering Sirius’ thighs. Minutes passed before he twisted suddenly, laying on his side between Sirius’ legs, his cheek on Sirius’ left thigh and his arms hugging his leg.

Sirius decided, in that moment, that he would officially not be attending the rest of his classes for the afternoon.

He sat dutifully as Remus’ living body pillow for the next several hours, ignoring the fact that his legs were going a bit numb, and that his bladder was starting to protest. He stroked his fingers through Moony’s hair, watching the way his face relaxed a bit easier in his sleep. The lines of pain were still there, but they were faint, the ghost of their waking form. He was loath to wake him, to send him off to the Shrieking Shack with Madam Pomfrey. Loath to subject him to the pain of the Full Moon’s transformation, to the broken bones and fresh scars that came with it. But he also knew he had no real say in the matter. This was simply an inevitability; a cruel, harsh reality that Remus had come to terms with, was used to, even if Sirius wasn’t. Would never be.

“Moony,” he whispered finally, pressing his fingers lightly to Remus’ cheek, “it’s time to wake up.”

He felt the déjà vu of the moment. Unfortunately, he wasn’t waking Remus to go to something so simple as his History of Magic class this time.

Remus heaved a breath, rolling over onto his back and resting his head against Sirius’ pelvis. Sirius adjusted his legs to accommodate him, drawing them up so his knees were bent over Remus’ shoulders. For a moment, he thought Remus hadn’t woken at all, but then he opened his eyes. The tint of the full moon hadn’t really lessened this time around. It was still there, turning Remus’ usually warm, assessing brown gaze into something a bit sharper, a bit more effortlessly predatory.

“It’s time for you to go with Madam Pomfrey,” Sirius told him, even though he was sure Remus already knew.

Remus continued to stare up at him with eyes like the edge of a knife, intense and focused. It sent a shameless curl of heat down Sirius’ spine, being looked at like that.

“It is,” Remus finally replied.

Sirius waited as he sat up, movements slow and deliberate. He watched with bated breath as he turned toward him, switching to rest on his knees so that he could lean toward Sirius more easily. He didn’t move, letting Remus close the distance between them on his own. He bit back the near-whimper that tried to leave his mouth as Remus pressed his own lips against it, hand sliding around to the base of his neck and holding firm. He pulled back after what felt like several minutes, catching Sirius’ bottom lip in his teeth as he went and tugging at it.

“Moony,” he groaned, and it drew an actual growl from Remus.

He groaned again.

“Thank you,” Remus told him suddenly, surprising him out of his half-stupor.

“What for?”

“For staying with me,” he told him.

“The Moony, praising me for skipping classes. It must be a full moon,” Sirius quipped, pressing his hand flat to his chest.

Remus rolled his eyes, and Sirius reached out, catching his fingers against the hinge of his jaw.

“Anytime, Moony,” he spoke genuinely this time.

Remus smiled at him, face full of affection despite the sharp intensity of his eyes.

“I’d better go,” he sighed, letting out a barely audible pained breath as he unfolded his legs and slid off the bed, “Madam Pomfrey will be waiting.”

Sirius nodded, watching him attentively.

“Don’t miss dinner,” Remus told him, taking on a parental tone even as he leaned across the edge of the mattress to press a kiss to Sirius’ forehead.

“I won’t,” Sirius grumbled, but he wasn’t upset, not truly.

“I’ll see you later.”

A knowing glint shone in Remus’ gaze as he said the words. He may not really remember his full moon shifts, but he knew he didn’t run alone.

“I’ll be there,” Sirius promised sincerely.

He watched as Remus turned on his heel and walked across the room, a slight hitch in his usual stride as he made it to the dormitory door and slipped out without glancing back.

Once again, Sirius could only wait for time to pass him by.

—

“Shush, Prongs! You’re jabbering away like this is your first time sneaking out past curfew,” Sirius hissed, bumping James a bit harder than needed with his shoulder thanks to their proximity under the invisibility cloak.

He barely budged, anyway.

“I’m just saying, Padfoot!” James whispered entirely too loudly. “It doesn’t bode well.”

“It’s not our fault Lily isn’t into your poor attempts at flirting, Prongs,” Peter pitched in quietly.

At least he knew how to whisper properly.

Sirius remained tense until they made it outside the castle, further from any prying ears they’d be likely to encounter at this time of night. James blabbered on as he shed the cloak, unaffected by the change in scenery

“As if you lot have any clue about the art of flirting,” James scoffed, nose upturned dramatically.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Books don’t talk back; and besides, a boulder could flirt better than you.”

“Wormy!” James gasped, hand flying up to rest across his heart, “You wound me.”

“He’s right though,” Sirius muttered under his breath.

James heard him.

“What is this, ‘attack poor defenseless Prongs night’?” He pouted, looking between the two of them and wiping a faux tear from his cheek.

“That’s just every night,” Peter shrugged, just as Sirius asked “Who decided you were ‘poor’ and ‘defenseless’?”

“Well boo to the both of you,” James harrumphed just as they rounded the bend, the whomping willow a rustling outline ahead of them bathed in moonlight.

“Alright then, lads,” he clapped his hands together lightly, “see you on the other side.”

A stag stood proudly in his place hardly a breath later, snorting and stomping a hoof as if to say ‘Well? What are you waiting for?’.

Peter changed form, squeaking indignantly at Prongs as he climbed up to rest on his antlers. Then there was a moment of silence, and Sirius realized they were both looking at him expectantly. He tore his gaze away from the Willow. There was no need for him to stand here wondering how Moony was doing when he could be Padfoot right now, keeping tabs on him with his own two eyes and four paws.

He focused his attention on that thought, re-directing his worry for Remus into it. When he re-focused his gaze, it was through Padfoot’s sharp eyes. He yipped at Prongs and Wormtail, tail already wagging furiously at the thought of a good run with his favorite people. It was easier, sometimes, to filter his thoughts in his Animagus form. Padfoot’s emotions were clean and straightforward; he was unbothered by complicated thought processes. He simply saw the world as it was, and only worried when someone was blatantly hurt or in danger.

He took charge of the group, nose to the ground as he trotted excitedly toward the Willow and its well-protected tunnel entrance. Moony’s scent was much more distinct through Padfoot’s nose; he smelled like library books and sandalwood and chocolate. He smelled perfect. Padfoot’s tongue lolled from his mouth, his tail wagging harder and his pace quickening.

He relished the feel of the grass beneath his paws, and the sharp smells of the familiar grounds. His ears picked up the sound of Prongs’ hooves scuffing the ground behind him, and the rustling of the Willow. They also picked up on the sounds of the Forbidden Forest in the distance, and of the faint sounds of a canine in distress. He whined in sympathy, but he didn’t let it break his happy trot.

He made it to the usual spot in front of the tunnel entrance, plonking down on his haunches just outside the Willow's reach. Not that it would bother them while they were like this. He barked acknowledgement to Prongs as he came to stand beside him, Wormtail still clinging with his tiny paws to one of the the prongs of his antlers. They waited together, Padfoot’s ears twitching every so often at the sounds filtering out from the tunnel. Finally, once an indeterminate amount of time had passed (Padfoot didn’t care to keep track), scraping footsteps could be heard against the packed dirt of the ground, growing closer to them with every step.

Padfoot stood, dipping preemptively into a play bow as a crouched form emerged from the mouth of the tunnel. Moony stood to his full height, shaking out his gray fur, his claws digging into the dirt as he moved. He was really just a rather large wolf; if it weren’t for the shorter snout, the tufted tail or the decidedly human eyes, one could hardly be buggered to tell the difference. He gazed at them with his moon-sharp amber irises, lip curling to reveal sharp white teeth in a half-hearted snarl.

Padfoot whined at him, rolling over in the grass to show his belly, tongue lolling out again. The wolf huffed at him, as if his antics were exhausting. Still, he moved closer, attention mostly on Padfoot, if only for the familiarity of his fellow canine. He sniffed at him once he was near enough, managing to look wholly disinterested in the process. Padfoot rolled back onto his feet, taking it as a sign of approval. He actually stood a bit higher and bulkier than Moony, who reflected the exhaustion of being a lone werewolf. Running with a mismatched pack of animals for half the year could only supplement so much.

Prongs was taller than the both of them. Their combined size had saved them from a few close run-ins with humans; it wasn’t fun to get in Moony’s way and wrestle him back, but they’d managed it.

Padfoot followed Moony as he started off toward the Forest, the giddy bounce of a puppy in his step. Prongs followed behind with Wormtail, moving with the deceiving grace of his form. Padfoot knew exactly how clumsy he could truly be. He let out a small bark, speeding up enough to brush his side against Moony’s before falling back a few steps again. He ignored the low growl he received in response.

The energy of the group shifted the moment Moony set a paw into the Forest and broke into a loping run. Padfoot immediately matched his pace, tongue lolling in the breeze his speed created. He heard Prongs galloping behind him, hooves thudding against the underbrush of the forest floor. The smells of different creatures and plants and magic assaulted his nose as he sprinted alongside Moony, and he took them all in with boundless enthusiasm. The moon shone just enough through the thick canopy to light their way, but none of them truly needed it anyway.

It was exhilarating, being free and untethered like this. Nothing ever truly compared to it.

They had a set rhythm that they always practiced. Padfoot and Prongs would each even out to match whatever speed Moony was running, effectively corralling him on either side so they could direct where he was going if needed. If Padfoot’s nose picked up on any sort of potential threat, including humans in danger of Moony’s hunger to pass on the affliction he carried, he’d let out a short bark to signal Prongs and they’d correct their course in the opposite direction.

It had worked well for them, so far. There were rare occasions where they couldn’t redirect Moony quickly enough, but they were few and far between.

They carried on until their limbs burned with exertion and their mouths dried up with thirst, and then they worked together to herd Moony back the way they’d come. They paused briefly to drink water from one of the streams, but then they were right back at it, Padfoot nipping at Moony’s heels and Prongs fencing him in with a show of his enormous antlers. Moony growled and snarled in protest whenever it was time to head back, obviously unhappy with his driving force being left unmet, but he was tired too, and he couldn’t take on the two of them together.

When they reached the tunnel, they’d get him right up to the entrance before Prongs would back off, moving back outside the Willow’s reach with Wormtail while Padfoot crawled into the tunnel, keeping Moony ahead of him so he had no way to turn around. Prongs would wait for them to get through to the end and switch back to James, with Wormtail to deactivate the WIillow’s defenses for him. He couldn’t fit through the tunnel in his stag form.

Padfoot went through the familiar motions easily, keeping his good-natured energy even as Moony snapped at him a little, unable to turn fully in the cramped dirt tunnel.

He continued to herd him all the way to the trapdoor entrance, where Moony climbed out just to get him off his tail. Padfoot climbed up after him, quick to get his muzzle up under the old wooden door and lift until it fell shut on its own. He sat on it, tail thumping lightly against the floor. James and Peter would wait, hunched in the tunnel in their human forms, until Remus had transformed back and it was safe for them to enter.

Moony whined, drawing his attention. He was already showing signs of the start of his reverse shift. He panted, pacing back and forth, claws clicking against the wood floors.

Padfoot didn’t like this part. Moony was in so much pain for it, and there was no enemy he could fight off to stop it. He whined lightly as his ears picked up the sound of bones shifting and cracking. He laid down, chin to the floor and ears flat as Moony’s body began the gruesome process of reverting back to human. It felt like hours each time he unwillingly listened to the sliding, grating, squelching rearranging of it all, along with Moony’s pained whines and growls and howls that slowly transitioned into groans and shouts and sobs.

When the worst of it was over, he went to him, wet nose nudging gently against his neck. He lay limp on his back on the floor, multiple bones broken and still in the process of healing back the way they were supposed to be. He had a few blood streaked scratches here and there, but none so horrible as his old scars. Padfoot licked his cheek before stepping back, four paws returning to two legs a moment later. Sirius hesitated a moment, a bit longer than normal, before stepping over to the trapdoor and knocking twice.

He didn’t wait to see if James and Peter had heard his cue. Instead, he returned to Remus, dropping to the floor beside him and petting ghost-light fingers through his hair. He dragged a threadbare blanket from the chair nearby, using it to cover Remus up to his waist.

“Oh, Moony,” he murmured, wishing he could take some of the pain for him, help him bear the terrible burden. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

He faintly registered the trapdoor opening and shutting again, but he didn’t turn toward it, attention focused entirely on Remus. He always hated this part; they would have to leave soon. The sun would be rising, and they had to be back in their dormitory before the staff woke and began to patrol the halls to start their daily routines. He wished he could at least move Moony to the bed in the shack, but he couldn’t be moved for at least another hour, and they’d have to be gone by then. Madam Pomfrey would come and collect him to take him to the hospital wing, and the boys would conveniently show up there just after breakfast, just in time for Remus to be waking up. They’d take her scolding in stride, like they always did, and push on anyway so they could be there for their friend. She’d give in to their stubborn insistence, as always, thanks to her soft spot for Remus.

But that was so much time in between. Time in which Remus would have to lay on the hard floor as his bones magically fused back together, and then be taken to the castle unconscious, and then have his external wounds tended to, all while Sirius was pretending to have slept more than a few hours, and that he hadn’t left his dorm or the castle. And then he’d eat breakfast like everything was entirely, perfectly fine.

“C’mon, mate,” James said sympathetically from just behind him. “We’ve gotta get back.”

Sirius stared at Moony for a drawn out minute before glancing over his shoulder to see James’ sympathetic gaze. He sighed.

“We don’t wanna leave him like this either, Padfoot. We never do,” Peter told him, “but we can’t help him if we’re caught.”

Sirius ground his teeth together. He hated it. Still, he stood, heeding his friends’ words.

“I know,” he answered them, voice hoarser than he’d meant it to be.

“We’ll see ya later, Moony,” James told Remus’ limp form, offering him a small salute.

Sirius gave him one more fleeting look before tearing his gaze away and forcing his legs to carry him over to the trap door. He climbed back down into the tunnel, crouching into a near-crawl so he could fit through.

He just needed to make it through a few hours. Then he could see his Moony again.

—

“You boys need to go to class.” Madam Pomfrey insisted, eyeing them with a thick air of exasperation. “Remus will still be here when you return, after you’ve attended your classes.”

“We don’t have class for another half hour. Please, could we just see him for a few moments?” James pleaded, offering his best puppy-dog eyes.

“We’ll be quick about it,” Sirius added, earning himself a doubtful side-eye.

Peter pitched in with a dutiful nod, hands clasped politely in front of him.

“What am I going to do with you lot?” Pomfrey sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

She turned on her heel, entering the hospital wing through one of the doors that had been propped open. The boys waited on the precipice, but then she waved her arm over her shoulder.

“Come on then,” she told them, “but you will be quick about it.”

Sirius practically leapt forward through the door behind her, filled with impatience at the thought of seeing Remus again. He slowed a little when he realized he was practically toeing Pomfrey’s skirt. He didn’t want to test his luck with being allowed in here.

“You’d best keep in mind that he is still resting,” Pomfrey informed them.

“Yes ma’am, thank you, we won’t bother him,” James told her earnestly.

She directed them to his bedside, giving them one more warning about the time before moving off toward her office. Sirius barely heard it, engrossed as he was scanning over every inch of Remus he could see outside the starched white hospital blanket. His face was lax in sleep, and much less strained with pain than it had been the last time he’d seen him.

Sirius wanted to pull back the blanket and examine the new scars he knew hid underneath. He took an unconscious step forward before stopping himself, aware of how inane he was being. He shook his head, grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it up alongside Remus so he wouldn’t be reprimanded for sitting on the bed like he wanted to.

“Hey Moony,” he murmured, reaching out to take his hand where it lay limp against the mattress. “Did ya miss me?”

“Oi, what about the rest of us?” James protested from behind him.

“Hush, Prongs,” Sirius told him without turning around, “we’re having a moment.”

“Not sure you can have one of those when the other person is unconscious, mate,” Peter told him.

Sirius harrumphed at him in response, squeezing Remus’ hand.

He startled a little when he felt a squeeze in return.

“Y’know, I’m starting to wonder if any of you know how to use your inside voices,” Remus spoke, voice low and hoarse with sleep.

“Moony!” Sirius leaned forward out of his chair, peering down at Remus’ warm brown eyes where they peeked through narrowed lids.

“Hey Pads,” he smiled tiredly, lacing their fingers together where their hands joined.

“How are you feeling?” James asked

“I’ve been better,” Remus snorted.

“Fair,” Peter said.

His gaze flitted from the boys back to Sirius, and he watched him for a moment. It felt like he was looking right into the heart of him, not just at his face.

“Really though,” he said, eyes still on Sirius, “I’m feeling better. Tired, but the ache is already less than it was.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, but he knew the reassurance was more for him than anyone else.

“Glad to hear it, Moony” James responded for him, leaning over to pat Remus on the shoulder.

“Thanks Prongs.”

James nodded, then dove into an enthusiastic recap of the night before. They all knew Remus couldn’t ever remember the details clearly- his consciousness was a slave to the moon and the wolf on those nights, after all. So they’d tell it to him from their perspective. At first, they’d left out the more concerning details, like the unlucky nights where the wolf had stumbled across a human. But then Remus had found out, and he’d made them swear they’d never keep a single bit of it from him again. So they hadn’t.

Peter threw in comments here and there, filling in where James had missed, but Sirius stayed silent, eyes glued to Remus’ face.

He noticed, he knew, because he’d glance away from James and give Sirius a warm look, eyes knowing and smile soft. Sirius never wanted to leave this room.

“Padfoot, it’s time to go.”

He blinked, turning to look at James and Peter behind him.

“Huh?”

James looked a little amused.

“It’s time to go,” he repeated, “it’s nearly half-past and we’ve already overstayed Madam Pomfrey’s welcome.”

Sirius turned quickly back to Remus, that slither of anxiety making its way back into his chest.

“Now?” He asked James, even though he was looking at Remus.

“Certainly not later,” James replied.

Remus’ brown eyes were fully open now, looking at him with familiar concern.

“Sirius,” he told him, voice soothing, “it’s alright. I’m alright. I should be released in a few hours, and then you can see me. We can walk to Herbology together.”

When Sirius didn’t reply right away, he squeezed his hand.

“Alright?” He said.

“Alright,” Sirius replied, nodding.

Remus tugged at his hand, pulling him toward himself despite the audience. Sirius let him. He craned his neck up to close the remaining distance, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Sirius’ cheek.

“You’ll be alright,” he told him, breath against his skin “go on. I’ll see you soon.”

He brushed the pad of his thumb against the edge of Sirius’ chin, tugging at their intertwined hands one more time before letting go. Sirius drew back slowly, a little dazed, before finally turning to face the others.

James’ face was stretched into his signature grin, eyes sparkling with self-satisfied glee. He looked like he’d finally gotten permission to be excited about something. Peter, on the other hand, had eyes as wide as saucers, and his mouth was open a little.

“Padfoot…Moony…what did I miss..?” He mumbled under his breath, shaking his head.

“Gotta keep up, Pete,” James slapped him on the back, still grinning away.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Can it, both of you. Let’s go.”

“Ooh, look who’s in a hurry now,” James teased, but he grabbed Peter by the shoulders and spun him, directing him with two hands toward the door. “On we go, then.”

“See you later, Moony.” Sirius glanced back, smiling when he noticed Remus already watching him.

He nodded, returning the smile and making Sirius’ heart skip in his chest. He turned before he could convince himself to stay even longer, chasing after James and Peter.

“But seriously, when did that happen?!” Peter exclaimed again as they descended the stairs. “Not that I’m not happy for you, Padfoot, just a bit lost.”

“It’d pay to pull your nose from your books every once in a while, eh Pete?” James jibed, nudging him. “Then you’d be a master of observation like me.”

Sirius snorted.

“If you were truly a master of observation, you’d be able to observe what Lily likes and what she doesn’t, and maybe you’d actually have a shot with her.”

James recoiled dramatically.

“I will not have the two of you coming at me again. We are discussing your love life right now, Sirius.”

“I’d rather we not, thanks,” Sirius replied, shrugging. “I’m gay, most specifically for Moony, and that’s that.”

“Very casual, yes,” James said.

“Man, those girls who fawn over you are going to be so disappointed,” Peter laughed.

“It’s not my fault they can’t tell,” Sirius replied, “there’s a reason I’m naturally talented at flirting.”

“That’s directed at me, isn’t it,” James huffed.

“I never said it was.” Sirius grinned. “I think you must’ve come to that conclusion on your own, Prongs.”

“You’re so mean to me, Sirius,” James pouted.

They continued their banter all the way back to the Gryffindor dorms to retrieve their books, and then until they parted ways to get to their respective classes. Sirius felt the weight in his chest uncoil a little, joking around with them and knowing they loved him all the same, even if he wanted to be with Moony.

—

The day flew by after he met up with Moony and walked with him to Herbology. It helped, being able to keep his eyes on him for an entire class. The limp he walked with during the weeks leading into the Full was virtually gone, and he looked a bit brighter; a bit less gaunt and exhausted. It made it easier to get through the rest of the day, knowing he’d be alright.

This time around, Sirius had lost the game they’d chosen to determine who’d shower first. He was pretty sure James had rigged it so Remus could go first, but no one complained.

He squeezed the excess water from his hair before stepping out of the steamy room. Remus sat at his desk, eyes already on him. He looked him up and down, eyes sparking with a playful glint that sent a curl of heat into Sirius’ stomach.

Sirius gravitated toward him like a planet in orbit, unable to stop himself.

“Moony,” he breathed, shivering as Remus immediately drew him in with a hand on each hip.

“Hey,” he smiled, charming as ever.

For once, Sirius had the height advantage. Remus looked up at him, somehow still managing to make him feel like he didn’t.

“Missed you,” Sirius mumbled, fingers trailing through his hair.

“You saw me several times today,” Remus laughed.

“Still missed you,” Sirius repeated, trailing his hands across Remus’ forearms and then tugging until he stood, chest pressed against his.

“Is that so,” Remus murmured back, brushing their noses together.

“Mhm,” Sirius hummed, tilting his head as Remus pressed their lips together.

He clung to him a bit shamelessly, relieved to feel the solidness of him beneath his hands. He was real, and he was good and he was okay.

He pulled away suddenly, surprising Remus a little as he grabbed his hand and pulled him toward his own bed. He didn’t protest; just followed along as Sirius slid onto his mattress, waiting for him to join before tugging the curtain shut behind them.

He started to speak, but Sirius shushed him.

“Take off your shirt,” he told him, earning a raised eyebrow.

“A bit eager, are we?” He joked, but he complied anyway, lifting his pajama shirt over his head and exposing his bare, scarred skin.

Sirius reached out, brushing his fingers over the faint pink lines borne of last night’s Full. They weren’t too terrible, all things considered. But he’d needed to see them for himself; to make sure.

“I’m alright, Sirius,” Remus told him softly, hands sliding over his.

“I know,” Sirius whispered, looking up at him.

Remus slid his right hand up over Sirius’ arm, trailing his fingers until they met the curve of his jaw. He looked at him, eyes searching, before he leaned forward again, reclaiming his mouth.

Sirius lost himself in it for a while, relishing in the feel of Remus’ lips, and his hands, and the warmth of him. He pressed into him until he forgot how to breathe, and then he laid down under the covers with him, curling into his chest. He pressed a kiss against his collarbone just as Moony rested his chin on his head.

“Pete knows about us now,” he told him then. “I think James already knew.”

Remus laughed, hand rubbing up and down Sirius’ spine.

“I’m quite certain he did. And I’m not even a little bit surprised that Pete didn’t.”

“I would’ve told them eventually,” Sirius mused.

“I know,” Remus told him.

Sirius breathed in a lungful of him, relaxing into the mattress and letting his eyes slide closed. It felt so good, being here like this.

He’d almost fallen asleep when Remus spoke again, voice low and quiet.

“I suppose you can blame the moon.”

He hummed in agreeance, and then let his exhaustion and Remus’ warmth drag him under.