Chapter Text
They move in together, after school ends. Remus still can't quite believe it: he'd spent months worrying about how he'd live after school ended, unable to get a proper job or standing. But when he finally plucked up the courage to mention anything to Sirius, he looked at him and said casually, "D'you want to live with me?"
His heart stuttered. "With - with you?"
"I mean, we're of age," Sirius said, closing his eyes and stretching out. "I have the gold. I hope you're not planning on breaking up with me."
"I - " Remus swallowed. Living with Sirius, the stability, the love, was so much more than he'd ever let himself dream of. But - "Sirius, love...if all the money is yours, it's like I'm living off of you, isn't it?"
"Remus!" Sirius shot upright. "Absolutely not - you're never - "
"But that'll be what it is," Remus said quietly. "Living with me...I'll almost never be able to get a proper job. It's different from living together here."
"I don't care-"
"That's the thing, though." Remus closed his eyes. He didn't know how to explain this. "I don't just have money to fling around and give to people."
"I-" Sirius looks at him, eyes wide and hurt. "I don't understand."
"I know," Remus muttered. That was the issue. He sighed, took Sirius's hand. "I'll think about it, okay?"
"Okay," Sirius mumbled. He hesitated. "It's not - it's not me , right?"
And oh, that was when it hit him.
Sometimes, Remus forgot that Sirius had run away from home. Sometimes, he forgot that Sirius was hated by his family, that he had lost everyone but James and Pete and him.
"Don't be an idiot," Remus said, elbowing Sirius. "I've put up with you for so long already."
"Ha," Sirius laughed shakily, still staring down at his hands. "Are you...are you sure?"
"Hey," Remus said gently. "Pads, look at me." Sirius exhaled shakily, looked up at Remus. "I want to live with you, okay?" He twisted his fingers with Sirius's. "I just - I can't be so wholly dependent on someone else."
Sirius closed his eyes. "Okay," he whispered. "I - sorry - " He wiped at his eyes, and Remus through his heart might have broken a little. Sirius hid his past so, so well. "Did you hear about..." Sirius forced a grin on, changed the subject as easy as breathing.
But Remus always knew.
In the end, Remus negotiates a stipend with Dumbledore: he'd never get a wizarding job, and after arguing that his work in the Order would prevent him from ever getting a Muggle job, Dumbledore agrees. He wasn't useless, Remus had thought wryly. They needed him. He never was sure if that was a good or bad thing.
But god, it's so worth it when he tells Sirius - the way Sirius's eyes light up, how he kisses Remus and asks breathlessly, really? He'd take anything, to have this Sirius.
They buy their first flat that summer, not days after school lets out. It's a small, cramped space with barely two rooms, but Sirius loves it, and that is enough for Remus to love it too. "We'll put a record player here," Sirius would say, "Oh! And if James and Pete come over the sofa would need to be a pull-out..." Remus's heart hurts to see Sirius so, so happy, so free for the first time from anything near his family.
And when the war starts, at first, it's almost...fun. They're young, and every time Sirius comes back from a raid or mission he comes back with bright eyes, bursting with restless energy and animated stories of his and James's close saves, the Death Eaters they chased down, the sheer thrill of the adventure.
They're young, and they're invincible. Who are the Death Eaters against them? Remus knows it won't last, truly; he knows what war means, but gods, he wants this to last forever. He knows how much this matters to Sirius, to finally, finally fight against his family.
But then deaths begin to drop like bombs. Sirius returns from more and more missions with hollow eyes, singed robes or limps he swears will go away in hours. More nights than not, he can barely recount his missions, curling up as Padfoot in a corner or falling into Remus's arms, mumbling don't ask I'll tell you tomorrow. Remus never has it in him to push Sirius to tell him more. He's never seen Sirius so beaten down.
For his part, Remus has done, well, nothing. He knows why: they're waiting for an opportunity to send him to the werewolves. Can't have him die before then. He wouldn't blame Sirius or James for resenting him for staying safe at home, and it almost makes him feel worse when Sirius staunchly says you're safe. I don't care whatever else you're doing.
He's not...relieved, when Dumbledore calls him in. But he's already resigned himself, prepared himself. The details claw into his brain, sharp and pointed. He'll be gone for a month, minimum. No wand, no communication with anyone.
No James, no Pete. No Sirius . No knowing if they're okay, if they're even alive for weeks and weeks. And he leaves the next day.
He spends the day at home, utterly numb. He's not allowed to tell James or Pete where he's going (although he's sure Sirius would tell them); he barely received permission to tell Sirius. Time seems to be racing past in huge chunks. Didn't he just have a whole day before he was leaving? Where did the past five hours go?
Before he knows it, he hears the door open.
"Remus?" he hears Sirius call. "Remus!"
Remus stares at the stack of papers in front of him. It isn't hitting that this could be his last night with Sirius.
He forces himself to stand up; the air seems to have thickened in the past few hours.
"Sirius?" he calls quietly.
"Remus!" Sirius turns around from hanging up his coat, dark curls falling over his eyes, eyes alight, and Remus's heart nearly tumbles right out of his chest.
"Hey - " Hurriedly, Sirius drops his bag, taking Remus's face in his hands. As numb as Remus feels, it stirs something in Remus: Sirius's always, always gentle hands. "Moony, what's wrong?"
I'm living with the werewolves for the next month , Remus imagines saying. He opens his mouth, and feels the words stick in his throat.
"Later," he mumbles finally. He closes his eyes, falls against Sirius's hug. He wonders if he could simply stay here.
"Remus - " Sirius starts to say, but Remus shakes his head, and Sirius sighs, running his fingers through his hair gently. "Okay, Moons."
I'm living with werewolves. I'm living with werewolves.
It still doesn't feel real.