Archive of Our Own

            The Great Hall was filled with the dull roar of students in the morning – toast crunching, Daily Prophets rustling, spoons clinking, and the banal chatter of “How’s your Transfiguration essay coming along?” and “Would you please pass the marmalade?” Sirius clutched his Thermos between his hands, savoring its radiating warmth as he tried to distance himself from the morning cacophony. While most mornings he was as much a part of the general din, on mornings like these – with remnants of nightmares still shadowed at the back of his mind – the rumbling made him want to retreat.

            A piece of toast was waved rather aggressively in his face from across the table, as James Potter repeated, “Pads, mate, could you please pass the bloody marmalade?”

            Sirius flinched back from the offending bread, wrinkling his nose as he scrambled to pass Prongs his disgusting, coveted marmalade. He resisted the urge to gag at its sickly-sweet smell, cradling the soothing warmth of his Thermos to his stomach. It had been a gift from Lily this year for his birthday. She had presented it to him proudly, giggling as he struggled to understand its purpose and proper pronunciation. “It keeps things warm – without magic!” she’d explained, “And it holds more than one cup – so you can bring your coffee to morning classes! And you won’t have to lug all your mugs down to the kitchen at the end of every week.”

            Sirius had refrained from telling her that he’d been bribing Peter to return the mugs since 3^rd year, as Peter was already at the kitchens every other day as it was. The thoughtfulness of the gesture had filled him with unexpected warmth, and he’d struggled for words, managing a strangled ‘thank you’ out of well-trained politeness. He’d made sure to use it every morning, often grinning at Lily as he added too much milk and shook it to mix. This morning, he appreciated its comfort, helping him to chase away the chill of the December morning and last night’s nightmare. On days when he felt pulled inwards, it served as a center point, keeping him from drifting too far.

            Remus, sipping tea unobtrusively beside him, pressed his knee to Sirius’ beneath the table, startling him back into the Great Hall. “Alright, Pads?” he asked softly.

            A flush crept up the back of Sirius’ neck, both from being caught zoning out and from the warmth blooming at that small point of contact between their bodies. It was ridiculous, the way his body responded to any touch from Remus, the tightening in his belly and the quickening of his breath. It was just getting worse. Amber eyes, bright with concern, met his and Sirius swallowed, shifting his knee away from Remus’. He nodded. Remus returned his gaze to the Daily Prophet, and Sirius felt something in his chest ease. Merlin, it was too early for this.

**S**

            Merlin, it was too early for this. The dungeons were freezing, the fires beneath their cauldrons doing hardly anything to keep the chill from creeping beneath his jumper and settling into his bones. Sirius sat watching Peter try (and fail) to chase down and cut up their Sopophorous Beans; he’d taken all three out at once and they were doing their best to escape. Not that Sirius would ever ask, but he often wondered how on earth Peter managed to get an ‘E’ on his O.W.L.’s – Peter was crap at Potions.

            “You could help, you know,” Peter muttered, a slight sheen beginning to break out on his forehead.

            Sirius ignored him in favor of unscrewing the lid of his Thermos and taking his first sip of coffee, letting it warm him from the inside. He turned his attention to James and Remus, who were paired together at the table in front of them. James’ hair was growing wilder by the second, as it always did in Potions, due both to the steam of the cauldron as well as his frustration with the subject. Remus did not appear to be bothered by the chill of the dungeons. He tended to run hot the week leading up to the full moon and, today, had already shed his school jumper and rolled up his sleeves. The silver scars on his arms flexed as he worked, large hands moving nimbly across the ingredients. Sirius was startled away from tracing the veins in Remus’ hands by a dismayed shout from Peter, and he set his Thermos quickly aside to catch the runaway bean.

            “Thanks,” Peter huffed as Sirius returned the escaped ingredient.

            The table jostled and they nearly lost the bean again, Sirius whirling to find Snape righting his Thermos, having knocked into their table as he passed. “Watch it, Snivellus,” Sirius snapped, snatching his Thermos away.

            Snape sneered as he returned to his own adjacent table, and Sirius turned his gaze resolutely to the table in front of him, taking a large swallow of his coffee to calm himself. Remus must’ve grown again, Sirius mused, his trousers were just a bit too tight. The man was all legs, really, right up to his arse…

            “Sirius, what are you doing?” Peter whined, “I honestly need your help.”

            Sirius blinked – their potion was an alarming shade of lime green, which couldn’t be right. “I was staring at Moony,” Sirius answered, feeling the words pull from his throat.

            Peter blinked at him, and Sirius frowned, “Sorry, I don’t know why I’ve said that.”

            Peter shook his head as if to clear it, “Right, well, as fascinating as Moony is, if you could please focus – I don’t think it’s supposed to look like this. Where’ve I gone wrong?”

            There were large bubbles forming slowly beneath the surface – Sirius thought that the potion looked gelatinous and rather angry. “Well, I think taking this class was your first mistake,” Sirius found himself saying.

            Peter was staring at him with a bewildered expression, and James had turned to look over his shoulder reprovingly. Sirius’ frown deepened, an anxiety starting to form in his stomach, bubbling slowly like their potion. “I don’t know why I’ve said that,” he repeated.

            “So, Black,” Snape interrupted, his voice carrying in the otherwise quiet classroom, “Any plans for this weekend?”

            Sirius was beginning to worry about frown lines. What a ridiculous question, as if they regularly made small talk and exchanged social calendars, or as if Snivellus had any semblance of a social calendar, which is what Sirius turned to say. Instead, he found himself replying, “Of course - it’s the Full so we’ll be…”

            Any further answer Sirius might have given was lost in the deafening BANG of Peter’s potion exploding, splattering him and Sirius and a few other students in range with thick, green slime. “…like we always do,” Sirius found himself trailing off, staring into Snape’s furious scowl.

            Horror seeped into his veins, thick and icy. Time seemed to move slow as the reality of what he’d said sunk in, except for his breath which was coming too fast, in short, shaky pants. Remus was looking warily at him, and James was frowning in confusion at both him and the shattered cauldron. Sirius really felt like he might be sick. His hand shot into the air, and he practically shouted, “Professor, I need to be excused!”

            He didn’t wait for the reply.

**P**

            Peter’s ears were still ringing from the explosion as Sirius rushed past him, disappearing into the corridor. This was certainly an inauspicious start to the day, he thought. He shook out his hands, green gelatin spattering against the stone floor as it was flung from his skin. Honestly, Sirius might’ve been right about him taking Potions, but what on earth was going on with him, Peter wondered. Had he been talking about the full moon?

            A glance around the room showed the students in a general upset – half of them still covering their ears, a few attending to their own cauldrons with new panic as if theirs might meet the same fate. James was stripping off his freshly slimed sweater vest with a look of mild disgust. No one was paying Snape any mind, and Pete was a bit put-out seeing that the greasy git had somehow escaped slime-free. 

            “Alright, Pete?” Remus asked, concerned.

            Peter barely had time to nod, grimacing, when Slughorn appeared at his station. “Well, well, m’boy, it’s a pity about your cauldron, eh?” Slughorn tutted, but he appeared more concerned about the slime still clinging to Peter’s jumper, “Perhaps you’d better go see Mister Black to the hospital wing and…see about getting cleaned up, eh, Pettigrew?”

            Of course Sirius was the focus of Slughorn’s concern, although Peter had taken the brunt of the blast himself. Kiss-arse, Peter thought, but nodded, eager to be dismissed. He wasn’t sure if the slime was itching his skin or if that was just his nerves, but he hurried into the hallway in search of the nearest lavatory regardless. His hands still covered in green muck, Peter pushed the door open with his hip. He was trying to get the taps turned with his elbows when a shaky voice called out, “Prongs? Is that you?”

            Peter sighed, abandoning the taps. “Just me, Pads,” he called out, “Can I help you?”

            “Doubt it,” came the tight response.

            Rolling his eyes and wiping his hands on his trousers, Peter walked towards the stalls, finding one shut and locked, the bathroom otherwise empty. “You’re bloody charming today,” Peter quipped, knowing that Sirius could see his shoes stood outside the stall, “Open up, then.”

            He could hear the door unlatch, and it creaked open of its own accord. Sirius sat hunched on the closed lid of the toilet, his face ashen, his hands tangled in his hair, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Peter frowned, looking the other boy up and down. He couldn’t remember when he’d last seen Sirius in such a state. “Merlin, Pads, what’s wrong with you?”

            “I’m in love with Remus!” Sirius blurted, and promptly clapped both hands over his mouth, his grey eyes wide and wild.

             Peter breathed in slowly through his nose, his gaze drifting up towards the ceiling. This was going to require James.

            “Right, ‘course you are,” Peter replied, and began to shift.

**P**

            The thing was, Hogwarts was surprisingly rat-free, thanks to Filch’s penchant for cats. Wormtail supposed he ought to be grateful that the school was so well-maintained, but his current outlook was pure frustration. There were very few extra nooks, crannies, or tunnels to scurry through, even in the dungeons, which was making his current position a little less comfortable.

            He raced through the corridor, sticking to the edges of the walls. He was glad that the class period was ongoing, meaning less risk of being seen or worse, stepped on. Last semester, he’d gotten caught under a second year’s foot while running from Filch – the girl had only caught the tip of his tail, but Peter had nearly lost his form, it had hurt so badly. Arriving at the Potions door, Wormtail paused, assessing. There was a chink of wood missing from the bottom of the door, and he scrabbled underneath as best he could, regretting the extra pastry at breakfast this morning as he struggled to fit through the small space. He wove his way quickly between feet, careful to stay quiet and stick to the shadows wherever possible, until he found James’ mismatched socks.

            Up the table leg and onto the surface, Wormtail tucked himself between the cauldron and James’ cutting board. James paused his preparation of ingredients, eyes widening behind his glasses. Wormtail said a silent prayer to whatever god might be interested in the protection of rats, and adopted what he hoped was an apologetic twitch to his whiskers. “Wormy, what…” James hissed, and Wormtail promptly bit down on his finger.

**S**

            “…but did you need to do it so hard? I’m bleeding, for Godric’s sake.”

            That was James’ voice. Sirius scrambled to his feet at the first sight of James. “Prongs, did anyone hear what I said?” he asked, frantic.

            James frowned, his hair wilder than usual. “To Snape?” he asked, “No, couldn’t hear anything over that bloody explosion. Merlin, Pete. What on earth were you playing at, Sirius?”

            Sirius was shaking his head, and really, the rest of him was shaking too because, Merlin, something was wrong. “I wasn’t playing,” Sirius said, and then he wanted to bite off his tongue because, “I was just telling the truth.”

            James looked murderous, “What? What the fuck is wrong with you, Sirius?”

            “I’m in love with Remus,” Sirius repeated for the second time that day, the words dragged out of his throat like burning coals, “Fuck. Please stop asking me that.”

            Incredulity was warring with rage across James’ face, and Sirius couldn’t blame him. “See?” Peter piped up behind James, “I think it might be Amortentia.”

            Sirius closed his eyes and bit his lip, because his throat was burning and it wasn’t fair, it hadn’t even been a question. “What is it, Pads?” James asked, softer this time, and Sirius cursed his infinite patience, “Spit it out.”

            “It isn’t Amortentia,” Sirius answered, fighting every word as it came out, “It can’t be, because I’ve been in love with Remus since 3^rd year.”

            He couldn’t bring himself to look at James. He wanted to sink into the ground, wanted to lay beneath the earth and be eaten slowly by worms. This was never part of the plan. The plan was to wait until they graduated, and then move into a flat by himself and never tell anyone, ever, because he had nothing to gain and everything to lose. He wanted to cry.

            “I don’t think this is Amortentia, Pete,” James’ voice was quiet, “but I think it might be Veritaserum.”

            Sirius opened his eyes. James was looking at him with a thoughtful expression, which eased Sirius in some respects but also kindled a flicker of fear because a curious James could be either friend or foe. “Where were you Tuesday night, when you said you had detention?” James asked.

            Guilt pooled in Sirius’ stomach, and he swallowed, but the words came up of their own accord, “Behind the greenhouses with Marlene, smoking.”

            James quirked an eyebrow, “Were you and Marlene ever really going out?”

            Sirius breathed out slowly through his nose. “No, we weren’t. And don’t,” Sirius warned, “ask anything more about it, that’s not fair. I don’t want to tell any more of anyone else’s secrets. You’ve got your answer, now what do we do?”

            A hint of a smile played around James’ mouth, and that was a dangerously familiar expression. “Do you actually have the hots for McGonagall or is it really only a joke?”

            Sirius grit his teeth. This was the least funny game they had ever played. “Only sometimes,” he answered slowly, regretting every word, “when she’s really stern.”

            James’ eyebrows disappeared up into his hair, a wicked smile stretched across his face. “How does James’ hair look today?” Peter chimed in with a grin, having caught onto the game.

            “Like it’s been nested in,” Sirius answered, a slow smile spreading across his face, because at least this time he wouldn’t regret telling the truth, “by a particularly lascivious crow.”

            Sirius was vindicated to see color rising in James’ cheeks, as he ran his hand through his hair with an indignant squawk, only ruffling it further. “Last time I ask you for style advice,” James muttered without any real bite.

            Sirius chewed the inside of his lip, his smile fading quickly. Now that they knew he couldn’t lie, there was something he needed to say. “Prongs,” he whispered, the sick feeling returning to his stomach, “I really am sorry about what I said earlier – I didn’t mean to blurt it out, I would never want to hurt Moony like that.”

            James nodded, but before he could speak, Peter interrupted as if struck by the thought, “Does anyone else think it was odd, Snivy asking you about your plans for the weekend?”

            James’ brow furrowed, his glasses slipping down his nose, “D’you think he might’ve slipped you something, Pads?”

            Sirius paused and played back the morning in his mind, saw Snape with his greasy hands, sneer on his face, fumbling with his Thermos – the bloody Thermos. “Fuck,” Sirius muttered, feeling like a proper idiot, “My coffee.”

            “Right,” James started, jaw tense with righteous anger, “Pads, we’ll have Moony take you up to the dorms and I’ll go straight to Slughorn…”

            “No!” Sirius blurted, panic sharp in his chest, “Prongs, you can’t! You can’t leave me alone with Moony.”

            James’ frown deepened, “Pads, you’ve bloody-well been poisoned. We’ve got to tell…”

“No,” Sirius repeated, swallowing hard, “No. We can tell Slughorn later or plot revenge or whatever, but you can’t…” Sirius squeezed his eyes shut briefly, his breath catching, “For fuck’s sake, I’ve already confessed twice in the last half hour, and I haven’t even been asked directly. I – I can’t be anywhere near him right now.”

            James hesitated, his eyes roaming Sirius’ face before he nodded, a sharp, decisive motion, and Sirius breathed out heavily in relief. “Fine. Pads, you’re with me. Pete, you run interference with Remus,” James laid out, looking at Sirius sternly, “We’ll swap out at lunch, and then we will tell Slughorn.”

**J**

            James was glad that the journey back to Gryffindor tower had been swift and smooth. Sirius had been anxious about leaving the lavatory, lest they cross paths with anyone along the way and he make any further confessions. “Easy,” Peter had piped up, “Just cover your mouth.”

            Sirius had gaped for a moment, but James was struck by the simple genius of the idea. He nodded, “Wormy’s right – we’ll sprint there and anyone who tries to stop us, we’ll tell them you’re about to ralph. Well, I will, anyways.”

            Sirius had pulled a face, but ultimately agreed. Their ‘duck and cover’ plan had worked brilliantly. As soon as the dormitory door was closed and locked behind them, James rounded on Sirius, who was laying on James’ bed trying to catch his breath. “So,” James started, “Moony, eh?”

            Sirius raised himself up on his elbows to look at James, his expression flat. There was a beat of silence before he answered. “Luckily, I haven’t got a clue what you’re asking, so I don’t have to answer that.”

            “How long did you say it’s been? Fourth year?” James smiled, teasing.

            “Third,” Sirius grit out, rolling onto his stomach, “You do know this is a form of interrogation illegal to perform unless sanctioned by the Ministry, yeah?”

            James rolled his eyes, loosening his tie. He came to sit by Sirius on the bed, jostling his fellow marauder until he made room for James’ gangly limbs to fit cross-legged. They were quiet for a moment, before a question occurred to James. “Have you been under Veritaserum before?” he wondered aloud, glancing curiously down at Sirius.

            Sirius shook his dark head, his mouth twisting to one side. “No, the old bat never had to resort to that,” Sirius glanced up, answering before James could ask, “Legilimens.”

            James swallowed against the sick feeling in his stomach, which never failed to swell when he learned more about the horrors that Sirius had suffered in that wretched house. Sirius dropped his gaze, his fingers picking at a stray thread on James’ bed as the silence stretched between them. “Please don’t ask me about it, Prongs,” he asked quietly.

            James was struck dumb for a moment, torn between sadness that Sirius was afraid his brother would pry when he was vulnerable, and guilt that it had crossed his mind to question Sirius. He couldn’t help it – sometimes he wanted to shake Sirius until all the truths tumbled out and there were no more skeletons left in the closets of Grimmauld Place. He couldn’t stop it from having happened, but he could stop Sirius from being alone with the memories. James breathed slowly, in and out. Today was not the day. “Marauder’s oath,” James swore solemnly, relieved when a faint smile graced his brother’s face in response.

            “How long do you think it will last?” James asked, the thought occurring suddenly, “the Veritaserum, I mean?”

            Sirius frowned, shrugged, “Dunno. Not long, I’d guess, I don’t think I had very much. Wouldn’t be surprised if it wore off soon, actually.”

            James and Sirius frowned at each other with mutual understanding; so much for telling Slughorn. James planned to retrieve Sirius’ Thermos from the dungeons just as soon as the period ended, but until then…plotting would have to wait. “Fuck that slimy git,” Sirius muttered beside him, plucking viciously at the loose thread.

            “Agreed,” James nodded, letting his head drop back and staring at the crimson of his canopy, his arms braced behind him. He considered his next words carefully, not wanting to spook his brother. “Pads,” he began in a curious tone, looking down in time to catch Sirius’ eyes flick up towards his, “can I ask about Moony?”

            Sirius looked down at his hands, twirling the loose thread between his fingertips. “What do you want to know?”

            James winced, feeling stuck. He had a question, but he wasn’t certain he wanted to ask. He didn’t much care for the question himself, it seemed fair to assume that Sirius might not like it either. “If I say, you’ll have to answer it.”

            Sirius nodded, grimacing. He wrapped the loose thread around his fingertip, and unwrapped it. “Sort of fucks the consent process, yeah?” Sirius observed in a wry tone. He heaved a sigh, offering James a brave sort of smile, “Go on, then.”

            A new question came to mind, seeing Sirius’ smile. James quirked a small smile in return, hoping that this question was innocuous enough. “Are you, like…properly in love then?” 

            Sirius huffed a small laugh, seeming relieved. He didn’t bother to fight the answer as it came out, “I reckon I am, yeah.”

            Curiosity sparking, James found himself distracted momentarily, and his next question came out before he could consider it too carefully, “How do you know?”

            Sirius’ brow raised in surprise, although there was no hesitation to his answer, thanks to the Veritaserum. “I guess I just love everything about him. Like, we’re friends always, but this is different – the way I think about him is different,” Sirius looked oddly thoughtful, as if surprised by his own words, “I love the way he always has ink on his fingers, because he never lifts his hand when he’s taking notes. Have you ever noticed? I love the way his eyes light up when he has an idea for a prank. They’re like amber, you know, but there’s flecks of gold in them, too. More when it’s closer to the moon.”

            James watched in fascination as Sirius carried on, not realizing the full extent to which his question would be answered. He wondered if this is how he sounded talking about Lily, and he blushed for the first time in realization. Sirius was still staring at the bedspread, as if lost inside his answer. “I love the way he smiles when we bring him chocolate after the moon, like he’s still surprised we came to visit, although that makes me sad a bit. I love his temper, and the way he holds me in check when I need it,” Sirius was blushing now, unable to stop the flow of words from his mouth, “I love how wicked smart he is, and how bloody kind. I love that he’s good, you know? It makes me want…to be good like that.”

            Sirius swallowed and paused, his cheeks aflame. “Well,” he started, his voice cracking, “I guess that’s my answer finished.”

            James whistled low and long, watching the color slowly receding from his brother’s face. “Merlin and Morgana,” he mused, a smirk morphing into a laugh, “So I guess that answers my question about ‘proper love’ then!”

            Sirius laughed alongside him, “Yeah, guess so.”

            As their laughter died down, James felt a familiar twinge resurfacing as his earlier unvoiced question returned, unbidden, to his mind. It wasn’t in his nature to be jealous, he didn’t think, but he had his moments. And he hated them. The question boiled away in his gut, nauseating in its persistence. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice quiet as if perhaps he hoped not to be heard.

            He hardly had time to regret it. Sirius frowned, glancing up, his answer tumbling out without pause, “Didn’t want to make it weird, put you in the middle of anything.”

            James heaved a breath, relief warring with guilt between his chest and stomach. He raked a hand through his hair, knocking his glasses askew as he dragged a hand down his face, “Fuck, sorry. Sorry. I’m an idiot. Just…ignore me.”

            Sirius’ gaze had fallen back to the bed when James finally had the guts to look back at him. “I don’t love keeping things from you, you know?” Sirius said quietly, wrapping the thread around his finger again and again, “Wasn’t planning on telling any of you – ever, to be honest. Well, guess that goes without saying. The honest part.”

            James watched as Sirius twirled the thread around his finger, tighter and tighter, until James reached for his hand, allowing the thread to unravel again. Sirius didn’t raise his eyes. Confused and curious, James asked, “You weren’t going to tell Moony?”

            Sirius barked out a laugh, but there was no mirth in it, his brow knitting together in a scowl, “Fuck no!”

            It didn’t make any sense. Sirius’ earlier speech played in James’ head like a skipping record, each line a raw feeling, years in the making. His brow furrowed, “But…you love him.”

            “James…” Sirius warned, his expression stony once again.

            “You weren’t going to tell any of us, ever,” James repeated, his voice flat, annoyance flaring in his gut, “You were just going to pretend it wasn’t happening. Ignore it.”

            Sirius pushed himself off the bed, scowling at James. “That was the plan, yes,” he grit out.

            “What an excellent plan,” James snarked, Sirius’ tone grating on him.

            “James,” Sirius repeated flatly, nostrils flaring, “Stop it.”

            James raked a frustrated hand through his hair again. He thought about the years he’d spent pursuing Lily, waxing poetic about her beauty, her wit, her sharp intellect – only to find, years later, that she’d thought it was a joke to start, that he was mocking her. He thought about Remus – quiet, kind Remus, who couldn’t tell a compliment from a Cornish pasty. He thought about catching Remus in the bathroom sometimes, pulling sullenly at his scars when he thought no one could see. Remus, who wouldn’t know someone was flirting with him if they reached out and grabbed his arse – he’d probably apologize for being in the way! It wasn’t fair to keep this from him. James scowled right back at his brother. “So, you’re not going to tell him now? You don’t think he deserves to know?” he demanded.

            Sirius paced away and back again, his footsteps agitated. “No,” he snapped, “I think he deserves his friendship un-ruined, thanks very much. Nice line of questioning, this, by the way! You’re cut right out for the Ministry – you should go for solicitor, take your skills to the Wizengamot!”

            James heaved a breath, pressing fisted hands firmly into the mattress beneath him. Merlin, he wanted to pound Sirius sometimes. He took another breath, reaching blindly for calm. It was no good to argue with Sirius when he was like this, all spiky and puffed up. Like a hedgehog, his mind supplied. James resisted the urge to smile at the mental image, grateful that it had done the trick. “Pads,” he said calmly, trying for reason, “Even if he didn’t feel the same, he’s a marauder. He wouldn’t take it bad. It’s not like you’re not out – these things happen, we don’t choose who we love.”

            Sirius stood still in the middle of the dormitory, his body like a live wire, one hand tangled in his curls in a tight grip. “James,” he ground out, “Stop.”

            “You said all those things about him, things he should know even as a friend,” James argued. Irritation flared as Sirius scoffed in response, and fine – Sirius could be stubborn, but James could be, too. Thoughts of the Veritaserum were long gone from his mind. This wasn’t fair to Remus. He folded his arms across his chest, “So, what. You’ve felt this way since 3^rd year, you’re just going to keep it all bottled up – for how long?”

            “Forever, if I have to,” Sirius snapped, pacing away again, like he was trying to escape James’ questions.

            “So, you won’t tell him,” James snapped back, anger sharp in his gut, “How very Gryffindor of you.”

            It was a low blow, but he was right about this, he knew it. “No, I’m not bloody telling him,” Sirius snarled, his back a line of tension, emotion rolling off him in waves, “Merlin’s saggy bollocks, James – just drop it!”

            His last ammunition defeated, James thew his hands up in the air, exasperated with Sirius’ inexorable stubbornness. “Why not?” he shouted.

            Sirius whirled to face him, his expression wild and terrified as he shouted back, “Because I can’t lose him! Fuck, James, don’t you get it? It’s one thing for my best friend to know I’m a bloody shirt-lifter! He’s fine with it, you all are, whatever! But that’s not enough, is it? No, I’ve got to become a fucking predator! You don’t think he might find it disgusting that I’m in sodding love with him? I don’t know what bloody romance novels you’ve been reading, mate, but this doesn’t end in happily ever after! It ends in him thinking I’m a fucking freak!”

            James’ eyes were wide, watching as Sirius was left panting by the end of his rant. The fear in his brother’s eyes hit him like a punch to the gut. He felt frozen to the bed, struggling to find the right words. While he knew that growing up in Grimmauld Place had left scars of many kinds, sometimes finding the leftover pockets of Sirius’ self-loathing still shocked him. He wanted to shake Sirius – he wanted to hug him. Sirius dragged a hand over his face, chest heaving.

            “Prongs…” Sirius’ voice was clogged with tears, “I can’t. I’d rather have this than nothing.”

            And, Merlin, he couldn’t stand to see Sirius hurting. James hauled himself off the bed, crossing the room in quick strides to wrap his brother in a hug. His glasses smushed against his face as he held Sirius tight. “Fuck, Pads, I’m sorry,” he whispered against Sirius’ curls, relieved when Sirius nodded.

            Sirius’ arms wound their way around James in return, hands fisted in his robes like an apology, and James felt like he could breathe again. Sirius’ breath was shaky, a small sound caught in the back of his throat. James could only hold him tighter. “For what it’s worth, Pads,” he whispered, “if you love him the way you say you do, I think he deserves to know. I think anyone deserves to know that they’re loved like that.”

            “I know,” Sirius managed thickly, “But I…”

            James felt the pain in his own chest, the fear laced in Sirius’ unspoken words. “I know, Pads,” James repeated, stroking his brother’s back in comfort, “I know.”

            James held him there for several minutes, wishing he’d had this much patience earlier in the day. He heard Sirius sniff a few times and felt him start to pull back, and James gave him a quick squeeze again before letting him go. Sirius scrubbed a hand over his face, and James honestly couldn’t tell whether he’d cried or just come close. “Probably end of the period by now,” James offered quietly, casting a quick tempus charm to check.

            They both glanced at the floating numbers and nodded. They were going to be late, the passing period nearly ended. Neither of them moved to be in a hurry. “Should get my Thermos back, I s’pose,” Sirius said with a sniff.

            James nodded again, readying himself to move forward with their plan. He grabbed his bag from beside the bed, passing Sirius his bookbag as well. “How’s the Veritaserum?” he asked, hopeful.

            Sirius shrugged, “Dunno. Should we test it out?”

            James paused, searching for a question that would be innocent enough. Sirius quirked a smile at him, waiting. James blew out a breath, raked his hand through his hair, and…oh. “How’s my hair look?” he asked.

            Sirius paused, then grinned. “Looks great, mate. Never better.”

            For a moment, James preened, before catching sight of himself in the standing mirror they’d set by the door. He scowled playfully at Sirius, reaching out to try to ruffle Sirius’ hair. Sirius ducked away before he could reach, still grinning. “Tosser,” James muttered without any real bite, attempting to fix his wild hair in the mirror.

            Sirius appeared behind him in the mirror, smoothing down his own tie. The grin faded slowly from his face, and they stared at each other as the realization set in. “So,” James started, “No more Veritaserum.”

            Sirius shook his head with a grimace. And there went their plan. James sighed, raking a hand through his hair, ruining all his efforts, “Well, shit.”

**P**

            Peter had washed the green goo from his hands, face, and hair, and still managed to make it back to Potions before the period ended. Stood at Snivellus’ table, Slughorn looked up as he entered, his bulbous nose wrinkling in distaste. Peter glanced down at the lime green stains on his shirt, and realized he was meant to have gone to the hospital wing and likely have changed before returning. “My boy!” Slughorn exclaimed with forced welcome; Peter was well-aware that his professor did not know his first name, “Shouldn’t Poppy be seeing to you?”

            Peter pasted on a smile. “I’d hate to miss a learning opportunity,” he lied through his teeth, glancing around the room in mild panic, searching for a better excuse.

            Remus had turned to watch the exchange, leaning against his table with his arms crossed, smirking. Bastard. “Besides!” Peter threw an arm out towards Remus, who raised one eyebrow, “I saw James in passing, and figured Remus would need a Potions partner.”

            Remus’ mouth did something funny, and Peter figured he was either holding in a sneeze or trying not to laugh. Either way, Peter approached the table with what he hoped looked like confidence. Remus’ potion simmered away happily, emitting occasion puffs of purple smoke – which is exactly what it was supposed to do, when finished correctly. Peter’s confidence faltered. Slughorn cleared his throat, a nervous gesture that well-matched Peter’s mood, and suggested, “Perhaps it’s best if you’re done brewing for the day.”

            “I’d be happy to talk you through my process,” Remus offered with his best Prefect’s smile, the one that had saved their arses from detention countless times.

            “Marvelous idea!” Slughorn was eager to approve – or perhaps to say anything needed to end the conversation. His plump hand barely brushed Remus’ shoulder as he offered a careless pat and ambled away.

            Peter’s smile lasted just long enough, before narrowing his eyes at Moony. Remus grinned and flicked a stray piece of goop off Peter’s shoulder.

            “Having an eventful Tuesday, are we, Wormy?”

            There was laughter in Remus’ tone, which Peter did not appreciate. He rolled his eyes in response, beginning to gather up leftover ingredients and helping Remus to clear his table. “It’s amazing how innocent the professors think you are,” Peter muttered, “when really, you’re the worst of us.”

            Remus grinned and shrugged in response, scraping shavings from a dragon’s horn into an empty vial to be saved for a future class. They worked in silence for several minutes before Remus gently nudged him with an elbow. “How’s Sirius?” he asked quietly.

            This was the part Peter had been dreading. He hated being put on ‘cover-duty’ as he was shit at improv, but he was under Prong’s orders. “Oh, you know,” Peter shrugged, aiming for nonchalant, “Probably still fixing his hair. Always for the dramatics, our Pads.”

            Remus nodded, and Peter breathed an internal sigh of relief. “Did he seem alright to you this morning?” Remus asked, voice soft and thoughtful.

            It was Peter’s turn to raise an eyebrow in confusion. This morning? Honestly, he couldn’t remember anything from this morning, aside from the blueberry danishes; they were his favorite. “Guess so,” Peter answered.

            He wondered whether there would be more danishes at lunch, for dessert. Sometimes, if there were leftovers, the house-elves would… “He didn’t seem a bit quiet to you?” Remus interrupted.

            Peter huffed a laugh, stoppering a bottle of Horklump juice. “Honestly, Moony, you’d think you’d be grateful if Sirius had a quiet morning,” he answered, baffled, “Maybe Prongs should work the team a bit harder, if they’ve that much energy after a practice.”

            He glanced up, but Remus did not appear to be listening, a thoughtful frown on his face. “I’ll check on him between periods,” Remus muttered, mostly to himself.

            Peter bit his lip, searching for an excuse as he mopped up spilled honey water from the table. Remus and Sirius were not to cross paths until after lunch, when he could check with James about Sirius’ condition and they could trade places, if needed. Aside from talking to Evans, James was all quick quidditch reflexes, excellent at thinking on his feet. “Erm,” he squeaked, “I think Sirius is heading to Muggle Studies early. Said he wanted to ask Professor Vassel a question about…”

            Peter faltered, and Remus looked at him expectantly. “About…” Founding Fathers save him, Peter prayed, racking his brain, “about, erm…vinyl! You know, how they get the music into those little grooves on the record. Ingenious, those muggles.”

            Peter swallowed the rest of his babbling, glancing anxiously at Remus, who nodded once, looking only semi-convinced. “Besides, we don’t want to be late for Charms,” Peter added for good measure, “Detention with Flitwick is so dull.”

            Another skeptical nod from Remus. Peter scrubbed at the tabletop with unnecessary vigor. He was grateful that he shared the next period with Remus; it would make it easier to keep tabs on him during the passing period. Godric, but he couldn’t wait for this to be over. Wiping sweat from his brow, Peter winced as he felt something slimy (and probably lime green) smear across his forehead. It was going to be a long day.

**R**

            It was with no small amount of effort that Remus managed to shake Peter between periods. The blonde boy had been arguing with him about whether he’d had enough tea to warrant a bathroom break, for Godric’s sake. Wormy was known to be as twitchy and nervous as his namesake, but this was odd even for him. Remus couldn’t be sure what the other Marauders were up to, but it only served to make him anxious. He hoped it wasn’t a prank. They’d swore off pranking each other in 4^th year, after a dung-bomb had made its way into a morning cinnamon bun. Prongs had nearly lost a tooth, not to mention his sense of smell.

            They’d made it almost to the classroom when Remus had grabbed at his rucksack and forced a sound of surprise. It was vaguely reminiscent of an adolescent Mooncalf’s call, but Remus wasn’t going to wait around for a review of his performance. “I’ve just realized, I’ve forgot my yarn!” he called out, already dashing for the stairs.

            Peter’s argument echoed after him, but Remus was already halfway up the stairs when he realized Peter was right – they’d moved on from knitting charms. No matter, an excuse was an excuse. He sighed, pushing upstream against the throngs of students as he made his way up towards Gryffindor tower. He moved quickly, worrying about Sirius. He had been unusually quiet at breakfast, Remus was sure of it, a rare phenomenon that sometimes occurred after particularly awful nightmares. It used to be that Sirius would show up at Remus’ bedside following bad dreams, but that seemed to be increasingly infrequent in the past year. Remus had initially thought perhaps the nightmares had stopped, once Sirius had fled permanently to the Potters – but Prongs had let it slip over the summer that this was not the case. Remus had then worried for a while that perhaps Sirius had caught on to Remus’ hopeless crush, despite what lengths Remus went to hide it. Careful and anxious observation had dispelled that theory, as Sirius appeared otherwise unchanged in his attitude towards Remus, never deviating from his usual touchy-feely demeanor or kind consideration towards Remus around the moons. So, he wasn’t certain why things had changed, only that they had. And that he didn’t much care for it. Though, to be fair, it was much easier to hide his feelings from Sirius when they weren’t sharing a bed on a regular basis.

            Then there was Potions to consider, as well. Sirius’ exchange with Snape had been very odd, indeed. The two rarely spoke at all, and particularly after Snape’s attempt to out Remus in 5^th year, the boys had all been increasingly cautious to engage with the greasy-haired Slytherin. Sirius had shown particular restraint; having been cornered by Snape once already, he was careful not to place himself in the line of fire unnecessarily, lest his temper get the best of him. It was odd that Sirius had responded at all to Snape today, even more so that he referenced the upcoming moon. It wasn’t unusual, particularly when questions about Remus’ frequent trips to the hospital wing were getting particularly dicey, for the Marauders to begin spinning tales. Recurring themes included: attacks from deranged pets (“We’ve begged him to have Flopsy put down, but you know Remus, bleeding heart and all,” Sirius sighed sadly), lamentations about his ‘overindulgence’ in Firewhisky (“A nasty habit, pity he can’t sober up,” Peter explained, carting a crate of Pepper-Up potion into their dormitory), and mishaps during naked moonlight rituals (“It’s just so dark in the Forbidden Forest, you know? Romping around with rocks and branches, it’s easy to get hurt, poor sod,” James snickered, “I’m just glad it wasn’t my bits!”). References to the moon did come up now and again, always with a more ridiculous story to head anyone off the trail. However, despite his keen astrological awareness, Sirius always played dumb when it came to discussions of the lunar cycle with anyone outside of the Marauders. Perhaps Remus had misheard…perhaps Sirius really was having an off day.

            Remus was almost surprised to find himself so quickly in Gryffindor tower, lost in thought as he had been. His steps slowed as he approached the dormitory. Someone had forgotten to renew their charms – he could hear voices coming through the door. He paused on the steps just outside, curious as the voices got louder. He could make out James, although he couldn’t understand any of the words – Sirius, slightly higher in pitch and with the clear diction of someone well-bred, was easier to make out. The tone of the conversation spiked sharply, and Remus leaned closer to the doorway.

            “Best friend…”

            Remus was startled by the nasty tone. That was Sirius’ voice, but he and James so rarely fought!

            “Bloody shirt-lifter!”

            Remus flinched back, shocked. It was rare for Sirius to use derogatory language, something he’d worked hard to overcome since first year. And particularly since Sirius had come out last summer. Something was wrong…who were they talking about?

            “Predator!”

            Anxiety churned in Remus’ gut. They couldn’t be…no, they couldn’t know. Remus wasn’t even out! Confusion fought with budding realization, and Remus listened closer.

            “Disgusting…love…”

            Oh God. Oh Godric. Remus thought he might be sick on the stairs. Sirius had figured it out – he knew, and… Remus stumbled back a step, feeling the blood drain from his face, leaving him shaky and unsteady.

            “Freak!”

            The word hit him soundly in the chest, punching the breath of him. Remus stood frozen. Of course. He had always known that this was a possibility, a probability. Just because Sirius was gay didn’t mean he would be interested in Remus – he had told himself this countless times. Remus swallowed against the lump forming in his throat. He had anticipated that Sirius would not reciprocate, had chosen not to tell him explicitly for this reason.

            He hadn’t expected the disgust. There was a faint ringing in his ears, and Remus shook his head to clear it. He strained to hear, but the voices were no longer discernable. Breath in, breath out. Remus blinked hard, the gray stone coming back into focus beneath his feet. The staircases were quiet around him, the sounds of footsteps far away, students scurrying through the castle corridors. The passing period was ending. He was going to be late, he needed to… Remus dragged his sleeve across his eyes. Breath in, breath out. He made it to the bottom of the staircase on legs shaking like a newborn foal, just as long and ungainly. No wonder Sirius…

            Remus blinked, swallowed. It felt like a bezoar was stuck in his throat, the sensation heavy and tight. Charms, he was supposed to be in Charms class. His feet moved of their own accord through the castle. He found himself sliding into the seat beside Peter, just inside the door, without any memory of how he’d arrived. Too focused on stuffing his feelings down, down, down into the empty pit at the bottom of his stomach. Remus swallowed. He probably wouldn’t be hungry for lunch today. He pulled a quill and parchment from his bag without thought, staring at the chalkboard at the front of the classroom without any capacity to discern what it said. His eyesight was oddly blurry. Peter leaned forward, catching his eye. “Alright, mate?” Peter whispered, brow furrowing in concern, “You look a bit…peaky.”

            “Yeah,” Remus breathed, lied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

            Breath in, breath out.

**J**

            James saw Sirius safely to Muggle Studies, before heading back down to the dungeons. He had meant to finish up his Transfiguration homework during his free period, but hoped that McGonagall would be easy on him. Afterall, Gryffindor had won the match against Hufflepuff on Saturday 200 to 20, and she was usually a bit more lenient after a good win. If he could gather proper evidence, she would be sufficiently distracted by investigating the illegal drugging of a student. Or so he hoped. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he took the stairs two at a time, his pace slowing as he moved deeper down into the castle. Closer to the dungeons, the stairs tended to be slippery.

            James wasn’t exactly sure how he was meant to collect sufficient evidence of what they suspected – he supposed he was just hoping they would get lucky. The Marauders often did. Sirius would want his Thermos back regardless, and James wanted to be certain it was properly cleaned before it was used again. The pinched, panicked look on his brother’s face flashed through his mind and James winced. Sirius safeguarded a plethora of secrets, many of them painful, to himself or others. If Snape had done this, he deserved to rot.

            Nearing the door to Slughorn’s classroom, James was surprised to hear voices. The door was open, but not fully, and James shifted closer to the wall so that he could approach unseen.

            “…would appreciate any feedback, Professor,” came a familiar, oily voice.

            “Veritaserum is not on the curriculum until next semester, Severus!” Slughorn sounded surprised.

            Alert at once, James edged towards the opening of the door to peek. A student, second or third year if James had to guess, passed through the corridor, slowing to stare at James who was practically plastered against Slughorn’s door. Impatient, James pointed his wand in silent threat and the student scurried away. Rolling his eyes, James returned his attention to the Potions classroom. Snape was muttering something about his enthusiasm for the ‘subtle science’ of Potions or some other such drivel. James could see Slughorn standing at his desk, only able to see the edge of his desk cluttered with papers and his pudgy hands fidgeting nervously in front of his protruding belly.

            “But where on earth did you get the ingredients, boy?” Slughorn stammered, not sounding the least bit enthused about Snape’s extracurricular activities, “The Jobberknoll feathers are 10 galleons apiece!”

            James couldn’t be more thrilled – Snape was confessing to a professor that he had brewed a highly illicit potion without permission or supervision. He had to have drugged Sirius! He missed Snape’s response in his excitement, watching Slughorn’s hand twist in front of his stomach. “Is that all you have, Severus? Only, it’s quite a small vial…” Slughorn trailed off uncertainly, hesitating over his next words, “Have you… You wouldn’t have used it, of course, my boy?”

            Snape’s voice was as oily as his hair, “Of course not, Professor. As you say, the ingredients are quite expensive.”

            James was wound tighter than a five-sickle watch. If the anxious fluttering of Slughorn’s hands was any indication, so was the professor. “Well! That’s quite a relief to hear,” Slughorn exclaimed, belly swaying forward over the desk as he rocked on his heels, “Why don’t you hand that over to me, Severus? I think I ought to have a look your work.”

            A small, half-empty vial of clear liquid was passed from Snape’s bony fingers into Slughorn’s meaty palm just as the door shifted beneath James’ weight; the loud creak echoed through the dungeon classroom, drawing the attention of both men inside. James slid into an easy grin and offered a cheerful wave as he strolled into the room. “Sorry to disturb you, Professor – I just came to collect Sirius’ things,” he said, smiling.

            If James hadn’t been a Seeker, he would’ve missed the vial slipping into Slughorn’s pocket. Snape’s crooked nose was wrinkled in a sneer, and he stepped back from the professor’s desk, putting some distance between them. Finding Sirius’ Thermos left out on his table, James picked it up with a wide, innocent smile, “Wouldn’t want him to lose this.”

            Snape’s mouth twisted into an ugly smirk, “He oughtn’t to be so careless with his things. Suppose that’s what happens when you grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth.”

            James narrowed his eyes behind his frames, keeping his smile even and polite. “You know, Snape, it isn’t kind to kick a man when he’s down. Sirius has been rather poorly today – you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

            Slughorn made a sound like a Crup who’d had its tail stepped on, and cleared his throat rather aggressively. “Well, you boys should best be off,” his smile was a thin, tremulous thing, “I’m sure you both have better places to be than in my office, hm?”

            James adjusted his glasses, flashing a quick smile at the Slytherin Head of House. “Indeed, sir,” he quipped, and turned on his heel.

            He managed to walk out of the classroom rather than skip and kept his energy contained all the way up the stairs towards the Great Hall, bouncing on his toes as he hit the landing. He paused, noting the quiet of the castle and remembering that his fellow Marauders were in class for the remainder of the period. He felt like he was in grasping reach of the Snitch and took a deep breath to settle his nerves. The news could wait. He had time to finish his Transfiguration homework after all – another surprise to add to his list for McGonagall!

**S**

            Sirius’ quill scratched against the parchment as he added another pawprint to his design. Footprints of familiar animals littered the margin of the page, crossing paths playfully as they wound from bottom to top. He wondered how it would look if they scampered across his ribcage, and began the process of neatly folding the paper so that he could safely tear off his work. He didn’t notice the scraping of chairs until a new set of elbows jostled the table. Sirius startled, glancing up; his heartrate settled at the familiar face. “Hey, Cas,” he greeted with a sheepish grin.

            Dorcas Meadows grinned back, flipping her braids over her shoulder as she leaned forward in her chair. “We’re meant to be in discussion pairs,” she whispered conspiratorially, “You’re welcome.”

            Gray eyes widening, Sirius glanced about the room, noting that desks had been shifted around and students had grouped together in murmuring huddles. Dorcas had just saved him from certain detention. “Thanks,” he whispered back, flashing her a grateful smile, “What are we supposed to discuss?”

            Dorcas shrugged, still smiling as she considered him. “I’d much rather talk about whatever has the infamous Sirius Black’s attention so rapt that he just risked detention in his favorite subject.”

            Sirius swallowed and did his best to hold onto his smile. “Just doodling,” he murmured, keeping his voice low.

            Sirius could lie but it was as if he tasted the truth on his tongue first, the effects of the Veritaserum still wearing out of his system. It had been a long day. Between the nightmare that had woken him in a cold sweat that morning, and the nightmare that had unfolded in the dungeons shortly after, Sirius was exhausted. And they hadn’t even made it to lunch. Dorcas tapped her fingernail against the table, catching his attention. She gestured at the page held in his hands. “So?” she said, “Let’s see.”

            Sirius carefully unfolded the edge of the parchment, revealing his designs. Dorcas’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Are those hoof prints?” she raised her eyes, the corners crinkled in laughter, “Why in Merlin’s name are you drawing hoof prints?”

            Sirius heaved a dramatic sigh, the rush of air alleviating some pressure in his chest. The truth held fast behind his teeth. “I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you,” he shrugged, “Marauder’s oath.”

            Dorcas rolled her eyes, “You lot are so odd.”

            Sirius winked. He folded the paper one way, drawing his thumbnail along the crease, “You know you love us.”

            Dorcas pursed full lips, “I tolerate you. Marlene’s the one that loves you.”

            Sirius folded the paper the other way. “Don’t be jealous,” he smirked.

            Dorcas’ answering grin was wicked. “Never. I know what she likes,” Dorcas leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.

            She flexed her arms, and her breasts pushed together in a way that a straight man – or Marlene – might have found very pleasing. Sirius stifled a laugh, “Touche. None of us poor sods can beat you there.”

            Jealousy was certainly not an issue for Sirius, but McKinnon would always have a special place in Sirius’ heart as his fellow Beater and only ex-girlfriend. Their relationship in third year had been a spectacular failure, unless one counted that it helped them both to come to…certain realizations. Certain realizations had led to other certain realizations, and they had been partners in misery before Marlene had shown her Gryffindor colors and confessed to Meadows. Jealousy, no; but Sirius was often torn between envy and inspiration. They were a powerful, beautiful couple, and two of his closest friends outside of the Marauders. Sirius was always grateful to have Dorcas’ company, the two lone Purebloods in Muggle Studies. He glanced up from his folding, eying Dorcas with new interest. “You take this class for her, don’t you?” he asked, curious.

            A rosy glow bloomed across Dorcas’ dark cheeks. She kicked him beneath the table, “Sod off.”

            Sirius creased his paper again, biting down on a smile, “I think it’s sweet.”

            Dorcas narrowed her eyes, but the corners crinkled with laughter again, “Sod off!”

            Sirius dodged another kick beneath the table, chuckling under his breath. He could feel Dorcas’ gaze on him, but ignored it, folding the paper back and forth. “You’ve never been in a serious relationship besides her, have you?” she asked, startling Sirius.

            Merlin, this one was on him – ask a Slytherin a serious question, and it’s an open invitation for interrogation. “I’m Sirius in any relationship I’m in,” he quipped, and tucked his feet behind the legs of his chair, protected from any attacks.

            Dorcas sat back in her chair, waiting with an air of patience Sirius knew was a façade. Normally, this type of banter was the bread and butter of their relationship. But this morning had left him feeling shaky and vulnerable, like he might lose his footing at any moment, one slip of the tongue away from disaster. He still couldn’t wrap his brain around having told James and Peter about Remus. It certainly wasn’t his intention to tell anyone else – the less people that knew, the safer his secret was. He swallowed the truth, and went instead with, “Nah, wouldn’t be fair, would it? A real marauder would never settle down.”

            Dorcas raised one dark brow, “James and Lily are so in love it’s almost disgusting.”

            Sirius snickered. “James is disgusting,” he affirmed, beginning to tear carefully along the edge of page.

            Dorcas muffled her laugh a little too late, turning a few of the students’ heads, and they were quiet for a moment, pretending to be studious. “Godric, I wish you were in Slytherin sometimes,” Dorcas hissed, still snickering under her breath.

            Sirius pulled a face, muttering, “And here I thought we were friends, Meadows.”

            Dorcas gathered herself while Sirius finished the slow, steady rip of the page, folding his artwork neatly to preserve it. “Even if you are a Gryffindor,” she began, and Sirius rolled his eyes, “one of these days, there’ll be someone.”

            Too late, Sirius did not say. Godric, he couldn’t wait for this day to be over. He needed one solid hour where he wasn’t reminded of how close he’d come to ruining his relationship with his best friend, and then perhaps his hands would stop shaking. “Then you’ll be as disgusting with them as James is with Lily,” she finished, “And we can go on horrible double-dates together.”

            Sirius smiled, tucking his drawing into his bag. “Maybe,” he said.

            The lie slid easily from his tongue, and Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. The Veritaserum had to be out of his system by now. Students around them began to gather their things as the period ended, and Sirius took up his bag. He’d meet James in the dormitory to touch base. If he’d found something, they’d be off to see McGonagall, and then hopefully this ordeal would be over. Hopefully.

**R**

            Charms passed in a blur, Remus’ thoughts racing by so fast he could hardly catch them. But he needed to think, he needed to be prepared. He needed to get a fucking grip on this. He needed not to see Sirius at lunch next period.

            The truth was, Remus was used to burying his feelings. Sometimes, he imagined a chest. A great wooden chest, with heavy metal bands and a complicated lock. The ache he felt in his joints leading up to the moon, like his muscles were made out of water and his bones out of lead? Into the chest. The searing pain of the transformation, month after month after month, with the knowledge that it would never end until he did? Into the chest. The rage he felt whenever Greyback’s name surfaced in the Daily Prophet, whenever he awoke to find a new scar slashed where someone else could see, whenever he came home and saw his father’s expression shutter closed? That went into the chest, too. He kept the secret that he was a wizard from his village, he kept the secret that he was a werewolf from his classmates, he kept the secret that he was bisexual from everyone but himself – all in the chest. His feelings for Sirius had been in the chest for some time now. The chest could hold this new pain as well.

            As class came to an end, the parchment in front of him empty of notes, he imagined his feelings folded up and tucked into the very bottom of the chest, like a pair of forgotten socks. Feeling a bit numb, he poked and prodded at it in his own mind. It rattled, but it would hold. At least until he was alone, he hoped. Peter, who was distracted, mumbling something about blueberries or danishes, joined the throngs of students headed towards the Great Hall. Remus pulled back. “Bit of a headache,” he excused, “Think I’ll go have a lie-down.”

            Remus wound his way upstream, fighting against the flow of students headed down to lunch. The closer he came to Gryffindor tower, the heavier he felt. The common room was blissfully empty, a mere handful of students just passing through on their break or tucked into corners frantically finishing homework for the next few periods. He would have an hour before seeing Sirius in Transfiguration. He could do this. Breath in – Remus pushed against the door to the dormitory, and came face to face with Sirius Black. The door slammed behind him as he startled, “Bloody buggering – fuck!”

            Sirius, despite sitting perched on James’ bed as if lying in wait, seemed equally surprised to see him. Wide gray eyes blinked owlishly at him, “Hiya, Moony.”

            Remus scrubbed a hand over his face roughly, feeling like the chest was lodged in his throat. He swallowed hard. “Hey, Pads,” he managed, “See you managed to clean off all of Wormy’s mess, eh?”

            “Yeah,” Sirius answered absently, frowning, “Are you alright, Moons?”

            Remus’ smile felt too tight on his face, “Bit peaky, thought I’d come up and have a lie-down quick.”

            Sirius only looked more troubled, hopping off the bed and coming right into Remus’ space and Merlin, he could not do this. Remus stumbled back a step, eager to put some space between him and Sirius. Sirius froze, one hand up as if to check Remus’ forehead. Breath in, breath out. Sirius lowered his hand, offering a hesitant, “Sorry?”

            Remus waved him off. “It’s fine, Pads,” he lied, “Just need to lie down. I’m sure it’s just the moon, I’ll be fine in a bit.”

            He stepped carefully around Sirius towards his bed, irritated as Sirius matched him step for step, impossible to get away from. The chest was a physical weight, pressing behind his ribcage, and it hurt. Breath in, breath out. “Perhaps you should see Madam Pomphrey, if it’s bad this early,” Sirius offered, concerned.

            Remus squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t need Pomphrey,” he grit out, repeating himself, “I just need to lie down awhile.”

            “But if…”

            Remus didn’t mean to snap. “Pads,” he interrupted, his tone sharp, “I just need quiet.”

            He tried to ignore the subtle wringing of Sirius’ hands and the sudden quiet of the room. Fuck, he could not do this. He couldn’t pretend, not with Sirius here; all of his usual care and consideration was like being killed with kindness. “Are you angry with me?” Sirius asked, after a pause.

            “No,” the answer came quickly, and it was true; anger hadn’t even occurred to Remus.

            “Is this about what happened in Potions?” Sirius asked, his tone pinched with anxiety, far from his usual cocky attitude, “Because if it is…”

            Remus shook his head, cutting Sirius off. “I don’t care about Potions,” Remus muttered, but it was useless.

            “James will be here in a minute, and I can sort of explain…”

            Explain – Merlin’s great arse, Remus could’ve laughed. “I don’t need any explanation, Pads, just…” Remus rubbed at his chest, wishing the ache would go away or ease up so that he could breathe, “Just let it go, I’m fine.”

            Sirius frowned, a familiar stubbornness creeping into his expression. Godric, why couldn’t he just let it go? For someone who was disgusted, he put on a damned good show. Remus thanked Merlin that Sirius valued their friendship enough to go on, but for fuck’s sake… “Moony, just tell me what’s wrong,” Sirius said, stern.

            Remus’ chest throbbed, and the truth fell out like a white flag. “I know,” he said, voice hoarse.

            Breath in, breath out. “Know…what?” Remus could picture the confusion on Sirius’ face, but couldn’t bring himself to look.

            He focused on keeping his breathing even, his voice level, his eyes dry and free of tears. He imagined the chest somewhere far off – out in the bogs of Wales, buried under layers of peat and moss. There was a fierce ache behind his sternum that he ignored. “I know how you feel about me,” Remus confessed to the stone floor beneath his feet.

            There was a beat of silence. Then Sirius croaked, “Oh.”

            Remus managed to raise his eyes to the bedpost, Sirius a dark blur in his periphery. Breath in, breath out. He could do this, he could salvage this. He just needed time. “I understand that our feelings for each other are not the same, and I thought that I could handle it, but I…” Remus swallowed harshly, his throat sore with the effort of keeping his voice from shaking, “I just don’t think I can handle having this in my face all the time right now, I just can’t. I’ll get past it. I just need time, I think.”

            Sirius choked on a suspiciously damp laugh, which caught Remus’ attention and he was startled to see tears gathering in Sirius’ eyes. “Right. Okay,” Sirius nodded, although he looked as though he was anything but okay, “I…I need to go, I’m sorry. I’ll give you some space.”

            Confused, Remus felt his words lodge in his throat, but Sirius was already turning away, nearly running into James as he barreled into the dorm, the door opening with a bang, “Lads, you will not believe what I have just – Pads?”

            James tilted his head in immediate concern, but Sirius brushed right past him and out of the dorm, leaving James staring at the door as it swung shut behind him. He turned to Remus, looking as confused as Remus felt, “Moony, what…?”

            He couldn’t make any sense of it. None of it made any sense. Remus stared at James helplessly. “I don’t know,” he managed, his voice cracking.

            James glanced back the way Sirius left before turning back to Remus, his eyes kind but his face resolute, “Tell me what happened.”

**L**

            If James Potter ever learned to properly look after his things, it would be red letter day. Lily’s legs were starting to burn as she reached the top of the astronomy tower, having been sent on an errand to retrieve her boyfriend’s DADA textbook. Candlelight study sessions were hardly romantic if they required robust cardio the following day, but James had seemed hurried and so Lily had agreed to the favor. She shoved against the heavy tower door and was startled to be immediately accosted by an angry Sirius Black. “Bugger off out of here or I’ll hex you into next week!” he shouted, whirling around to face her, and then freezing in place, “Oh. Sorry, Evans.”

            Lily raised an eyebrow but paused in the doorway with her hands up, placating. “Pretty sure I could hex you right back, Black,” she stated calmly, watching as he seemed to wilt in place.

            “Right. Sorry,” Sirius lowered his wand, but seemed to sway anxiously in place, “Just…do you think you could come back later?”

            Lily hadn’t thought she would ever see Sirius Black beg, but she was pretty sure that’s what he was doing right now. He was oddly unkempt, his hair somewhat tangled as if he’d repeatedly run his hands through it, his eyes wide, and she could see him chewing the inside of his lip. She paused, memories flitting through her mind of finding Sirius in the astronomy tower in years past. This tower had been the start of their friendship, and a place of mutual grieving over lost sibling relationships. She had hidden here after a letter from Petunia in fourth year, and could recall her surprise at the uncharacteristic gentleness with which he hugged her while she cried. She softened her tone, “What’s wrong, Sirius?”

            He shook his head, pacing away from her. She expected Sirius’ usual bark and bite, but his tone was only sharp with anxiety, “Nothing, I – I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

            Lily felt as if she were approaching a wild animal, but moved closer, nonetheless. “If there’s something to talk about, then it isn’t nothing.”

            That caught Sirius by surprise, and he whipped his head to look at her, grey eyes hurting. “Is it Regulus?” she offered.

            Sirius shook his head, pacing again, caged in and frustrated. “Are you and James in a fight?” She tried and received only another headshake.

It was unnerving to see him this way, nothing like the Sirius she knew, all confident grins and fast wit. She wracked her brain, unable to account for it at all. “Did something happen between you and Remus?” she tried again.

            Sirius faltered. Lily felt her mood darken. Perhaps this wasn’t anxiety – perhaps it was guilt. Green eyes narrowed, “What did you do?”

            “Nothing!” Sirius snapped, glaring, “I said I didn’t want to talk about it, and I don’t.”

            Sirius strode towards the door, avoiding her eyes as he made to brush past her. Closer now, Lily could see that his eyes were red-rimmed, and she reached out to snag his wrist, softening, “Sirius, wait – I’m sorry.”

            Sirius paused, looking away, his expression oddly vulnerable. “Come here,” Lily offered, pulling him across the room with fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist, “Talk to me.”

            Sirius sat next to her, an obedient stranger, their backs pressed against the wall of the tower. Sirius said nothing, but continued to shift anxiously in place, radiating frustration. Lily placed a cautious hand on his knee, “Tell me what’s wrong.”

            Sirius repeated himself, his voice losing strength as he did so, “I…I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “Did you have a fight?” Lily pushed, “Did you say something to him? Did he say something to upset you?”

            Sirius shook his head repeatedly, his jaw tight. Lily inhaled sharply, surprised to see tears gathering in his eyes, “Sirius…”

            Sirius ran a hand through his hair, gripping and pulling, his head tilted away from her. “How did Prongs do this for so long?” Sirius seethed quietly, as if to himself, “It’s bloody awful.”

            “James?” Lily asked, confused, “What has he got to do with it?”

            Sirius’ grip tightened, words tumbling out, talking towards the window, “You rejected him over and over, and he just… how did he just keep going? I – I can’t…”

            It was as if someone had cast Lumos in a dark room. Lily gasped, everything falling into place, “You’re in love with him.”

            Sirius turned towards her, confused, “With James? Merlin, no, Lily – he’s my brother.”

            “No,” Lily said slowly, “with Remus.”

            All remaining color drained from Sirius’ face, but he held her gaze. His silence was confirmation enough. “What happened?” Lily whispered, “You…did you tell him?”

            Sirius let out a bark of mirthless laughter, eyes brimming with tears, “I didn’t have to, he already knew. He knew, and he – he said he needs space.” Sirius hugged his knees to his chest, swiping roughly at one escaped tear.

            Sirius cleared his throat with a sniff, leaning his head back against the stone wall as if perhaps the tears would simply drain back into his body. Lily could only frown, her mind spinning, thinking of endless nights in the library listening to Remus pine. If she had confronted him, she knew he would have denied it, but there had been no doubt in her mind for over a year of how Remus felt. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she murmured.

            Sirius laughed again, the sound damp and humorless. “It makes perfect sense, Evans. He’s my best friend, and I ruined it. I just…I break things, you know?” Sirius croaked, shrugging, “I always have. I’m reckless and I’m too much and I…”

            Sirius swallowed hard. “I lost your Thermos, by the way. I’m so sorry,” Sirius said, blinking damp gray eyes at her.

            Lily shook her head, confused and utterly unconcerned about a bit of plastic and metal. She couldn’t begin to form the words to tell him that it didn’t matter. “I – I wasn’t going to tell him, I didn’t mean to…” Sirius whispered, and Lily watched Sirius’ face contort in hopeless distress, “I didn’t mean to.”

            Bewildered, Lily placed a hand on his back in comfort. Sirius ducked his face towards his knees, one hand still tangled in his hair. “Why do I always want more than I can have?” he whispered.

            “Oh, Sirius…” Lily whispered, unsure how things had come about but certain about the depth of pain that Sirius was feeling.

            Sirius let out a tiny gasping sob, and pulled his arms around himself. Burying his face in his knees, he began to cry. Lily wrapped an arm across his shoulders, squeezing gently. She had never seen him cry before. Sometimes, when he spoke about Regulus, it seemed like he might – but he never had. Lily was at a loss. This was all wrong. It was mere moments before Sirius seemed to be trying to pull himself together, taking deep breaths and sniffling. “Sirius,” Lily began, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding…”

            The door to the astronomy tower screeched across the floor as it opened, and James strode into the room, Remus on his heels. They stopped short at the sight of Lily and Sirius sat on the floor. At last, the cavalry had arrived. Lily patted Sirius’ shoulder and stood, murmuring, “I think you two need to talk.”

            James offered her his hand, dark eyes scanning rapidly over his brother as if he could diagnose the situation from sight alone. Perhaps he could, she wondered, they had always had an inexplicable bond. Lily took the offered hand with a gentle squeeze, which seemed to pull James from his thoughts, his expression uncharacteristically serious. Remus’ expression was unreadable to her, for once. She glanced back at Sirius, before tugging James towards the door, “Let’s give them some time.”

            They were on the fourth floor landing before either of them spoke. “What do you think?” Lily glanced up, watching the light glint across James’ glasses.

            James shrugged. “You know me,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I’m optimistic.”

            Lily let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding, relieved when laughter filled her belly. “That you are, James,” she chuckled, “that you are.”

            “Speaking of optimism,” James’ smile sharpened into a familiar cunning grin, “We’re late for Transfiguration, and I need to have a little chat with Professor McGonagall.”

**S**

            Silence fell awkwardly over Remus and Sirius, as Sirius wiped at his face, refusing to meet Remus’ gaze as he attempted to gather himself. It was Remus who broke the silence, stating quietly but firmly, “I need you to tell me how you feel about me.”

            Sirius looked at him aghast, heart thrumming in his ears. To his utter embarrassment, a fresh set of tears pricked his eyes and he blinked rapidly, trying to rid himself of them. “Why are you doing this?” he seethed, reaching for anger as a familiar comfort, “You already know, and you…you…”

            Godric, it was no use. Sirius sniffed, swiping his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stood, fed up. “You know what, fine,” he spat, finally meeting Remus’ gaze and holding it, “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

            Sirius forced himself to watch Remus’ eyes widen in shock. The words came fast, knowing otherwise they wouldn’t come at all. “You’ve made it very clear that those feelings are not reciprocated, and I’m sorry,” Sirius found it harder to keep Remus’ gaze as the heat in his belly dwindled, “I didn’t mean for you to find out, I don’t even know how you…never mind.”

            The flash of anger had been replaced, his gut curdling with anxiety that made his eyes wander and his arms crawl. Words were pouring out of his mouth faster and faster, and he wasn’t even sure what he was trying to explain anymore. “I came up here to give you the space that you asked for, and to try to figure out to handle this for the next 7 months until we graduate and then you…” Sirius swallowed, the words sticking in his throat, “and then you don’t have to see me anymore.”

            Remus stepped forward, pained, “Merlin, don’t say that.”

            “Moony, I don’t know what you want from me!” Sirius wailed, desperate to do something, anything to fix this, to get rid of that look on Remus’ face, “You said that you couldn’t handle this, you said that you wanted time, and I don’t know how much time you need and…”

            “I wasn’t talking about you,” Remus interrupted, somehow closer still.

            Sirius played the conversation through in his head, like one of those Muggle tapes on fast-forward. He came up with nothing. “What?”

            Remus was close, so close, touching distance. Was that a werewolf thing, Sirius wondered, how did he get so close? Merlin, he was tall. Remus’ hand brushed the underside of Sirius’ jaw, his fingertips gentle and calloused. Sirius frowned at Remus’ chest, then his face. Nothing was making any sense, the confusion dizzying. Sirius swallowed, the sound of it so loud.

            Remus’ eyes searched his face, his gaze both serious and soft, “Sirius, I love you.”

            Sirius blinked once, twice. And then he was kissing Remus, and Remus was kissing him back. It was still ridiculous the way his body responded, the tightening in his belly and the quickening of his breath, but it was wonderful.

**R**

            Sirius’ lips were warm and dry and wonderful, until he tucked Remus’ bottom lip into his mouth and then the feeling was something else entirely, a warmth pooling low and pleasant in his belly. The kiss was over almost as quickly as it had begun, and Remus’ head was spinning in that lazy, pleasurable sort of way that happened when he first started to feel tipsy. He leaned forward, wanting more, but found that Sirius had stepped back, which was upsetting but also sobering. Sober was good, because Sirius was staring at him with anxious confusion written in his silver-grey eyes and because they probably needed to have more of a conversation than just shouting their feelings at one another and then snogging. And then perhaps they could get back to the snogging, afterwards.

            “But – you’re not gay.”

            Remus blinked, and shook his head to clear it. “Well, no,” he said, still feeling rather hazy, “Bi, technically.”

            “Bi, technically,” Sirius repeated flatly.

            Remus hated the flat, guarded look on Sirius’ face. He waited for the anger, for Sirius’ infamous temper to take hold, but it never came. This close to the moon, if he really listened, Remus could hear Sirius’ heartbeat from a few feet away. It beat fast, like a rabbit’s. Fear. James’ words from earlier echoed through his mind, “Look, I can’t tell you what Sirius said. But whatever you thought you heard, you heard wrong. He’s had a rough go of it – Snape dosed him with Veritaserum this morning. I told him to tell you, but he won’t, Moony. He’s been hiding from you all day – he’s scared how you’ll react when you find out the truth.”

            “Pads?” Remus offered, and Sirius seemed to soften at the nickname.

            “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked finally, almost immediately backpedaling over his question, “Not that – I mean, you’re not obligated to – people shouldn’t feel pressured to come out.”

            Remus sighed, not proud of his answer. “It was easier,” he admitted quietly, “to pretend. If I wasn’t – if you weren’t an option.”

            To his surprise, Sirius just nodded at that like he understood it. Remus waited for whatever came next, watching as Sirius chewed absently on a hangnail as he processed all the information of the last several minutes. He winced as Sirius drew blood, and stepped forward to gently tug Sirius’ hand away from his own sharp teeth. It had been a long time, Remus realized, since he’d seen Sirius like this – twitchy, and not altogether ‘here.’ Not since Sirius had run away to the Potter’s, had he seemed so on edge. “Sirius, love,” Remus nudged, “talk to me.”

            Sirius seemed to snap into focus, taking his hand back and glancing at it in confusion, before raking over Remus’ face, searching. Grey eyes narrowed, “How are you so calm?”

            Remus shrugged, uncertain himself as to the answer. Something had settled the moment he’d heard the final confirmation from Sirius, even if it had been shouted at him. “Dunno,” he answered, honestly, “I think I had my bit earlier, with James.”

            Remus frowned then, recalling James’ words again. “Prongs said you’d been drugged, Pads,” Remus wondered aloud, “with Veritaserum?”

            Sirius nodded, his voice cracking, “Yeah.”

            Remus’ stomach dropped. He watched, cautious and concerned, as Sirius paced away for a moment. He could hear the uptick in his heartbeat. “Fuck,” Sirius muttered, “think I’m having a panic attack.”

            Surprised, Remus tried to catch Sirius’ eye, “Now?”

            Sirius, however, wouldn’t meet his eyes, his gaze fixated instead on his hands. Remus could see the slight tremor in them. “Guess so,” Sirius mumbled, his breath starting to become shallow.

            Remus felt helpless as Sirius paced away, wringing his arms as though he could shake the trembling off them. Of course, he would panic now. Sirius had only ever started to evidence anxiety after leaving Grimmauld Place. Remus and James had sometimes wondered together if it was only then that he’d been safe enough to feel the fear. Remus had only seen him in a full attack once or twice, the last one being when Regulus had arrived late to the Welcome Feast at the beginning of 6^th year. Sirius had been afraid Regulus hadn’t made it back to Hogwarts at all, and it had ended with all four Marauders crammed into an alcove in the entry hall, blocking Sirius from view of the other students while James talked him down. It had been horrible, wanting to hold Sirius and being unable to. But it could be different now, Remus realized, watching Sirius pace. “Come here, cariad,” he offered.

            Sirius paused, swallowing hard, and shook his head. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Sorry,” he managed, strangled.

            Enough was enough. Remus crossed the space between them, his footsteps purposefully sounding so as not to startle Sirius further. He held Sirius carefully, his arms a loose circle across Sirius’ shoulders that he could move easily within or break out with little effort. Sirius didn’t move his hands, and Remus could see the tight line of his jaw ticking. “I don’t know why I’m…” Sirius started, his voice tight with humiliation.

            Remus shook his head, unconcerned. “S’alright,” he said, keeping his voice low and soft, “Bit of a rollercoaster day.”

            “A what?” Sirius looked up, revealing damp, red-rimmed eyes.

            Remus offered a soft smile. “Never mind, Pads. A long day. Your body’s just catching up, yeah?”

            Sirius’ breath caught and he blew it out forcefully on the exhale, but Remus caught the faint tremble in his jaw. He scrubbed his hands over his face, tears slipping past his control. “Stop fighting it, cariad,” Remus murmured, tugging Sirius’ hand gently away from his face.

            He took Sirius’ delicate wrists in hand, his thumbs tracing gentle circles over his pulse points. This close, he could feel Sirius’ breath, sharp and erratic, against his chest. He kept his own breathing slow and even, trusting that Sirius would match him when he was ready. He hated the pained look on Sirius’ face as he struggled through tears and uneven breaths. Remus mumbled quiet assurances into the slight space between them, something easing within his own chest every time a term of endearment was able to slip carelessly from his own mouth.

**S**

            It was several minutes before Sirius’ breathing started to level out, and several minutes more before Sirius pulled his hands away, sniffling as he swiped a sleeve roughly across his eyes. He could feel the tips of his ears, hot with embarrassment. Remus was quick to catch his hands again, before Sirius could slip away and retreat within himself. He sighed – what a soggy, sodding start to their new relationship. He watched Remus carefully for signs of distaste, but the brunet appeared unbothered. “I’d suggest we take you to Pomfrey for a calming draught, but I think you’ve had enough trouble with potions today, yeah?” Remus offered with a quirk of his lips.

            Sirius chuckled, feeling his chest ease slightly at the gentle, familiar banter. “Yeah,” Sirius scrubbed a hand over his face again, clearing any remnants of tears or mess, “Might have to take a break from Lily’s Thermos, too.”

            Remus nodded, his amber eyes warm and sympathetic. Sirius was quiet for a moment as he replayed the last several, willing his body to settle into this new reality. He’d told Remus his best kept secret, and it had all turned out – better than he had ever hoped. Things were fine, more than fine. “I am not sending Snivellus a thank you note,” Sirius muttered, thinking aloud.

            This elicited a bright, surprised laugh from Remus, and Sirius couldn’t help the smile that spread across his own face in response. Remus was beautiful when he laughed. He supposed some might accuse him of bias, but he was certain that this was merely fact. Sirius’ brow furrowed as his thoughts snagged on an earlier bit of their conversation, continuing to catch up. “Re, what’s a rolling…a rolder…” Sirius struggled for a moment with his question, “that thing you said earlier?”

            He was rewarded with another laugh, heartier this time as Remus tipped his head back with the effort. “Merlin’s beard, a rollercoaster,” Remus said, once he could speak again, “You are, Pads.”

            This did nothing to resolve Sirius’ confusion, but he couldn’t be arsed to care much with Remus grinning at him like that. Reality was settling in, focusing in increments, like the lenses of one of those Muggle cameras. Sirius glanced around the tower, feeling as though he was seeing the room for the first time in hours. “What time is it?” he asked.

            Remus shook his head, despite the watch on his wrist, his movements easy and relaxed. “Dunno,” he answered, “We’ve probably missed Transfiguration though.”

            Sirius winced, “Fuck. Think I was supposed to have a chat with Minnie.”

            Remus only shrugged, the soft smile never leaving his face. It was driving Sirius mad. “I’m sure she’s waiting for you,” Remus reassured, “Want some company?”

            Sirius nodded. That damn smile. Like a secret, tiptoeing at the corners of his mouth, just for Sirius. “Re?”

            Remus raised an eyebrow, half-turned to leave already. Sirius willed his throat to unstick. He was all wonky still – he felt like his stomach was missing, having floated off somewhere, and he wasn’t certain of the placement of his knees either. Truly ridiculous, the way his body responded to Remus. “I want…” Sirius hesitated, unsure of how to word what he wanted to say, “I want to be your rollercoaster.”

            Remus rolled his eyes, but they crinkled at the corners. “I really need to teach you what that is,” Remus teased, and then his eyes softened, “but you are, Pads.”

            Sirius grinned.

** The End **