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Chapter Text

“But I am leaving for India.”

“And it is not far enough!” The viscount hissed. “Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honour, but that honour is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend—”

“Christ, but your room is a mess.” Remus startles and slams his laptop shut, his head whips round to his doorway where Lily is standing. She blinks at him, and her mouth stretches into a little grin.

“What’re you watching?” She approaches Remus’ bed, and he shifts to make room. Lily sits cross legged on his bed and draws his duvet over her lap. Remus—who’d previously been laying down—sits up, legs stretched out in front of him. He opens his laptop and Lily looks over at his screen.

“Why’d you freak out so much,” she laughs, “I love this show. You know I love this show.”

“I don’t know, you just scared me.” He turns the screen towards her, “You wanna watch?”

Lily hums, and leans into Remus’ side. Remus plays the episode, but notices Lily seems… distracted. Her eyes have a faraway look that indicates her mind is elsewhere, and she twists the yellow wool of her jumper absentmindedly. When the episode ends, she closes and opens her mouth repeatedly, before taking a deep breath.

“Remus,” Lily’s voice is quiet, “I need to talk to you.”

Remus hums, shutting his laptop and placing it on his bedside table. He turns to Lily, who’s bitten her lip so much it’s starting to swell. She’s nervously twisting the cotton of Remus’ duvet in her fingers. Remus grabs her hands and takes them in his. Lily shifts in her seat, and she looks conflicted.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks, his stomach twisting.

“I think…” Lily steels herself, “Look, I’m gonna call it off with Fabian.”

Oh. Okay. That is… admittedly not what Remus had been expecting.

“So, you’re not pregnant?” He blurts out before he can stop himself.

Lily lets out a short laugh. “Pregnant?” She wrinkles her nose. “No, there’s absolutely no chance of that. Why would you even think—?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Remus huffs, dropping her hands. “You were acting so nervous and… you just seemed really scared, what was I supposed to think?”

“Oh, you’ve completely lost it,” Lily groans, “I literally haven’t even—y’know what? Forget it.” And then, in a quiet voice, she adds, “You’re not… upset, are you?”

Remus blinks. “What—upset you’re not pregnant? No?”

Lily thwacks him upside the head. “Don’t be purposefully obtuse.”

“I’m not,” Remus elbows her. “That was a genuine question.”

Lily huffs. “You and Fabian…he’s your best friend. Well, he’s your best friend after me,” she adds, “I don’t want to be the reason things get weird between the two of you.”

“Lily, that’s ridiculous.” Remus pauses. “Look, I won’t lie, things might be a bit…off between the three of us for a while, and I won’t exactly fancy playing middleman during all of it, but you don’t have to stay in a relationship for my sake—it’s not even my relationship.”

Lily leans back against Remus’ headboard and looks up at the ceiling, her hands fidgeting. “You’re sure?” She asks, biting her bottom lip. “Everything will be alright between us?”

“If you make me repeat myself, I’m kicking you out of my house.”

Lily scoffs. “Your family loves me, they'd never allow it.”

Remus grumbles, but lays down next to Lily, resting his head on her shoulder. It’s true, they do love her. If there’s one thing Lily can always be certain of, it’s how loved she is by all the Lupins. Even Hope, when she’d still been alive, had loved having Lily around. Maybe it’s because she’d never had a daughter of her own—just Remus and his brothers—but she’d taken any chance possible to gush over her.

“When are you gonna tell him?”

“Tomorrow. I’m leaving the day after, so it only feels right.” They’d just finished year 11 a fortnight ago, and Lily’s family was spending the last four weeks visiting her grandparents in Ireland. Remus was a bit upset at having to spend the summer without her, but he reckons the distance will be good for Lily and Fabian.

“I’m not angry,” Remus says, “But I am a bit… surprised? I guess? I didn’t know there was anything wrong between the two of you. Did you get into a fight?”

“No,” Lily says, “It’s just… I like Fabian, I really do, but I just not in the way you’re supposed to like a boyfriend. And I know I won’t, so there’s no point in dragging it out. It’s just… when you know, you know… you know?”

Remus—who has never dated anyone in his life—hums in agreement. He very decidedly does not know.

The summer before sixth year, Lily would come over to Remus’ house, and for six weeks he was made to quiz her, and revise with her, and help her take down notes. It was the last day of break when Lily first brought up the idea.

“I wanted to give you this. Your own copy.” She handed Remus a stack of papers that had been stapled-together over his kitchen table. The first sheet contained a large image of a crest split into four sections; a lion, a snake, a badger, and a raven. There weren’t any words on it, save for the title, which read:

Hogwarts Secondary School
Entrance Exam Review Sheet

“You don’t have to of course,” Lily continued, “I just thought you should at least consider it.”

“I… Lily, what am I supposed to do with this?” Remus looked from the stack of papers to Lily, thoroughly confused.

“Eat it.” Lily looked at him, unimpressed. “Honestly, Remus, it’s a study guide. What do you think you’re supposed to do with it?”

“I know what it is,” Remus sighs, “I just don’t understand why you’re giving this to me.”

Her face was carefully neutral, almost bored, but Remus caught the way Lily tapped her fingers against the table, there was no rhyme or rhythm to it. It was a nervous habit of hers and Remus isn’t sure she knows she does it.

“I thought… look, Remus. I’m applying to Hogwarts. It’s one of the best schools out there, and they have connections with some of the top universities in the country. Going to this school would be a great opportunity. It’s all hypothetical of course, I’d have to get in first, but… I think you should apply—”

“Absolutely not—”

“—It could really help you in the future!” She rushed out, “And if we both get in, we could go together. Which means I’ll be right there incase anyone says anything—”

“Lily, no.” Remus says, “I can’t… no, there’s no way.”

“Remus,” Lily begins, “I know it’ll be difficult in the beginning—”

“Lily, no.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “I know you mean well, truly, I do. But this isn’t… it would be awful for me.”

“But how do you know?” she asks, “you haven’t been to school in years all because of a hypothetical. I promise you, nobody will care—”

“You can’t promise that,” Remus says, “people will… Lily, people will talk. If someone—”

“Romulus will be there,” she argues, “he’ll stick up for you if anybody tries anything. And so will I.”

“I can’t just depend on the two of you.”

Lily looks at him, unimpressed. “Remus, I love you, and it’s because I love you that I feel compelled to be honest with you right now. You already depend on Romulus and I.”

“That’s different—”

Lily holds up a hand to silence him. “I wasn't done. You’re one of my best friends, and I love spending time with you, but Rem, you are miserable, and don’t even try to deny it.”

Remus, who’d just been about to argue the point, snaps his mouth shut.

“I can tell, you know? The way you look whenever you ask me about school, about clubs, and assignments, and trips and my friends. You miss it, I know you do. And as much as we’d love to, Romulus and I can’t be your only support network. I don’t know, don’t you ever think about it? Even a little.”

“Of course I do,” Remus sighs, “but Lily I’m not that kind of person. Even back when I went to school, it’s not like I ever really got on with anyone. All I had was you.”

“That’s not true,” Lily presses, “you were friends with the other boys in our class.”

“When we were seven. And it wasn’t even like I was really friends with anybody. At that age, everybody got on together, and even then I was the odd one out. Everyone had somebody they were closer with and I was just… there. And now I’ve got this. ” He gestures to his face, at the myriad of scars that litter his skin, “It’s just not plausible.”

“That’s bollocks,” Lily hissed, “I mean, seriously, so what if you’ve got a few scars? I think they look wicked anyway, and it’s not like anyone will honestly care all that much. You can’t just isolate yourself from everyone because you’re afraid of being isolated. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he snaps, “it’s different for you, everybody loves you.”

“They would all love you too,” she says, “if you would actually speak to them.”

“Oh my god, Lily, just let it go.” He groans.

“Think about it.” Lily’s eyes are blazing and her tone carries an air of finality. Remus knows there’s no point in arguing about it. You’d have better luck trying to stop the Earth spinning than you would trying to dissuade Lily from something once she’d set her mind to it.

“I’ll think about it.” He relents. Remus skims through the study guide and grimaces. “ I don’t know how I’m supposed to memorize all this by the end of October.”

“Oh, you’re not,” Lily’s mouth turns up in a sly grin, “If you actually look through it properly you’ll see that you’ve already got most of it memorized. Why do you think I’ve been making you study with me all summer? All that you really have to worry about now is the essay. And the SATs.”

“Oh, you suck,” Remus laughs, “you’re a manipulative witch, I can’t believe I fell for that.”

Lily smiles, but her expression turns serious again.

“Seriously, Remus, please consider it. You won’t admit it but you’re so… you’re lonely. I know you are.”

Remus had always been a meek child, more quiet and withdrawn than his peers—but he’d never been lonely, not until well after the accident. It’d happened near the end of year two, he’d spent the summer recovering and both he and his father agreed it would be better for him to be homeschooled indefinitely.

Well, Remus thought it would be better. Lyall clearly wasn’t all that fond of the idea but Remus couldn’t stand to leave the house anymore, so he chose not to push Remus more than he was comfortable.

In those four years, his father and brothers had been some of his most constant sources of company, but they couldn’t be around all the time. His father had work, and Romulus had school. Roman was an infant, so…

Remus did have “friends” from primary, but the relationships between children at that age were shallow and largely based on proximity. They’d visited here and there but time had pushed them apart. Remus wasn’t bitter about it, of course. They weren’t in any of the same classes, and never went out together. It was bound to happen eventually.

Lily is the one friend he still has from those days. Their mothers had been close growing up, and in the wake of Hope’s death, it had been Iris who’d sorted through his mother’s things while his father remained at his bedside. Iris had cleaned their house and cooked meals for his family and took care of his brothers while Remus was stuck in that hospital. When Remus came home and refused to leave his room, it had been Iris who’d gently coaxed him out, who’d held him while Remus sobbed and rubbed his back when he threw up. She made him his mother’s honey tea and sat with him until he fell asleep.

Iris would send Lily and Petunia over to his house every weekend and tell them to keep him company. Petunia had tried—really, she had—but she quickly grew tired of being forced to spend her Saturdays confined to Remus’ house. She’d stopped showing up eventually, which Remus honestly hadn’t minded—had expected even.

The one thing he hadn’t expected was for Lily to stay. But she did.

She’d spent nearly all her freetime with Remus, she did her homework at Remus’ desk, and then—once Remus started leaving his room—at his kitchen table. She brought him occasional updates on how his old classmates (friends?) were doing. She’d been the one to coax him out of the house for the first time since he’d been discharged from the hospital. They’d walk down two blocks to a small corner shop Remus hadn’t been in for over a year and gotten slush puppies—Remus got lemon-lime and Lily got blue raspberry.

It was burning hot outside, the drink gave him a brain freeze, the corner shop floor was oddly sticky, and Remus wanted to turn back about ninety different times. But Lily held his hand the whole way and he’s pretty sure he saw her tear up when Remus took his first sip, so he stayed.

No, Remus wasn’t lonely, not at first. But Lily still had school, still had clubs and school trips and her own group of friends, and she couldn’t be around him all the time—not that Remus ever expected her to be. Time dragged on and Lily still came around, but it was clear she was part of a world entirely different from Remus. She had a life that extended far beyond the walls of his house, one that Remus could never be a part of.

It weighed on him in a way it never did with Romulus. Maybe it’s because he’d always been a bit detached—for lack of a better word—from his older brother’s life. Romulus was only two years older than him, not a lot by any means, and they’d also gotten on just fine, but Remus and Romulus’ life had still been a bit divided. Romulus was in different classes, had his own circle of older friends, his own little hobbies that Remus had never been a part of. That divide didn’t exist with Lily—Lily, who was practically his twin, who’d been in all his classes, gone on all the same school trips, had the same little circle of friends as him.

It’s not like he resented Lily for it, he just… wanted to be a bit more like her. Lily who went out into the world without hesitation, Lily who had a plethora of friends and even more admirers. Lily was the kind of person who demanded attention. She spoke and you had to listen, she walked into a room and you had to stare.

Lily was bold and proactive and Remus was barely even reactive. That had always been their dynamic, even back when they went to school together. Lily was the doer, and Remus was the kid she dragged along.

Lily did things first. She lost all her baby teeth first, got braces first, got her braces off first, learned how to ride a bike first, learned how to swim first, she was always the first to sign up for any school trips, any clubs or committees. Hell, Remus’ entire watchlist is just filled with shows and movies Lily loved and told him to watch.

But—and Remus would never say this outloud—he would always remember that he met Fabian first, and as consequence, he’d liked him first.

Their next-door neighbours had sold their home when Remus was in the middle of year six. They were an elderly couple whose children were all grown, the house was too big for just them two, and they wanted to retire to a nice little seaside town—or so his dad told him anyway.

The house was bought by the Prewetts. Remus remembers the day they moved in, it had been the end of April, just a few days past Easter. His dad had gone over to introduce himself and welcome them to the neighbourhood. He’d asked Remus if he wanted to come with, but they both knew what the answer would be even before Remus had declined. Lyall tried his best to hide his disappointment, but Remus had gotten rather good at reading him these past few years.

Remus didn’t go over to the Prewett’s drive with his father, but he did sit in one of the chairs out on the veranda and watch the family move in, his copy of Roald Dahl’s The Tales of Beedle the Bard held loosely in his hands.

His father was talking to a sturdy-looking man taller than him, with ginger hair so light it almost looked blonde, and a thick, full mustache. The man had kind eyes, and Lyall said something that made him laugh—a loud, booming sound—and he slapped him on the back. Lyall stumbled and winced, the man didn’t notice, but Remus did and snorted as his father righted himself.

A woman came up next to them and the man wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her in. She had deep, red hair and a round and freckled body. Her face was soft and youthful, and when she smiled Remus noticed she had dimples. With her hair done up in short curls, her yellow floral dress, and her white hat, she looked like she’d just walked out of a 1950s magazine.

Remus watched the adults make conversation for a few more minutes before turning his attention back to his book. He’d read it already, but there was no shame in a reread, and he preferred reading on his veranda, when the weather was nice and he felt himself up for it.

“What’re you reading?”

Remus jumped and nearly dropped his book. There, hanging on the side of the veranda’s railing was a boy his age, with the same orange-blonde hair as the sturdy-looking man, every inch of his skin was littered with freckles.

“Uhh…” Remus stammered, “are you a Prewett?” His voice squeaked and he winced.

The boy blinked at him, “Um, yes? I mean yeah, I am.”

“Okay,” Remus squirmed in his seat, “I live here.” He added, when the boy remained silent for too long.

“I guessed as much,” the boy said, “How old are you? Your da’ said he had a bairn my age. I’m guessing that’s you?”

“I’m eleven.” Remus said.

“Oh, nice,” The boy smiled, his grey eyes lighting up, “I’m almost eleven, my birthday’s in July. Wait, one second.” The boy jumped off the railing and ran up the steps to Remus’ house, coming to sit in the chair next to him.

“What’s your name? I’m Fabian. We just moved out here, ‘course I told my folks I didn’t want to since this place seemed so boring, but when do they ever listen to me? All my friends are back in Stockbridge. I’m from Stockbridge, forgot to mention, and I met all the neighbours already—or I thought I did—and there weren’t any other lads for me to hang out with, even though da’ promised there would be. But then your da’ came over to mine and I heard him mention you, and I saw you sitting out here, so…” He spoke very fast, and when he was finished rambling he looked at Remus expectantly.

“I’m… Remus.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, in the wake of the boy dumping his whole life story on him. “What’s your name?” He added, realizing it’d be rather rude not to ask.

“Fabian,” the boy blinked, “I just said that.”

Right. He did.

“Sorry.” Remus held his book tightly in his hand, tapped his foot nervously against the wood floor. “Force of habit.”

“S’alright.” Fabian leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Say, what school do you go to? We’re probably—”

“I don’t.” Remus looked down, eyes trained on his book and wishing he’d just stayed inside today. “I’m homeschooled.”

“Oh.” Fabian sounded disappointed, and though he didn’t know him, the sound left an uncomfortable feeling in Remus’ stomach. “Well… that's just for primary, right? Are you gonna go to a proper school come September?”

“No.” Remus picked at the corner of The Tales of Beedle the Bard’s cover. “I mean my brother… no, I’m not.”

“You have a brother? Is he homeschooled too?”

Remus shook his head. “No… he uh… he goes to Hogwarts.”

“I’m going there in September. My brother Gideon’s a year older, so he’s starting after the break. Oh, and I have a sister, but she’s way older than us.”

“My brother’s name is Romulus.” Remus says, looking up at Gideon.

“How old is he?”

“Twelve. But he’s two years older than us, he just has a late birthday.”

“Do you have any sisters?” Fabian asks.

“No,” Remus says, “but I have a younger brother, Roman. He’s five. He’ll be six in May.”

“Is he homeschooled too or—”

“No.” Remus shook his head. “It’s just me.”

“Huh.” Fabian leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. He squinted at Remus, looking him up and down. “I don’t get it. Why don’t you go to a proper school if your brothers do?”

Remus shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t.” He aims for casualness, trying to ignore how his scars seem to be burning against his skin.

“Oh. Well, are you going to Hogwarts too?” Fabian asks.

“No,” Remus frowned, “I told you, I’m homeschooled.”

“No, I know,” Fabian says, “But you said your brother goes to Hogwarts. Are you gonna go there for secondary?”

Lily wanted to go, has wanted to go since she was six, and she’d spent nearly the past year studying for the SATs and somehow, she and Remus’s family had managed to wrangle him into sitting the entrance exam back in October.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I applied but… I mean, it all depends on whether or not I even get in.”

“But you will if you do?”

Remus thumbs the corner of his book. “I don’t know.”

“You should,” Fabian says eagerly, “I applied too, if we both get in, we’d probably have some of the same subjects.”

“Yeah,” Remus says, “Maybe.”

The two lapse into a stilted silence, and Remus is about to make up an excuse to go inside when Fabian finally speaks again.

“So… is there anything to do around here?”

“There’s a corner shop not too far from here,” Remus says, “and a community centre. There’s a library and a pool there, if either of those interests you. Oh, and there’s a shopping centre nearby, but there’s honestly not much to do there.”

“There’s a playground around here, right?” Fabian asks.

“Yeah, just a few blocks down.”

“We should go.” Fabian jumps out of his chair, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.

“What, right now?”

“Yes.” Fabian nods. “It’s better than sitting around here.”

Remus grimaces. He only ever goes to the playground when it’s cloudy and raining a bit—days where he knows no other kids will be there. It’s the middle of the day and it’s sunny outside. It’ll be packed right about now.

“You should go,” he says, “I don’t really feel up to it.”

“Oh, come on,” Fabian pouts, “please come with me. Seriously, Remus, I’ll do anything.”

Remus shifts in his seat. “Just go on your own, it’s not far.”

“I can’t.” he sighs, “My mum and da’ said I can’t go alone, but they won’t take me since they’ve got to unpack, and my brother already said no.”

“Why not just go tomorrow?”

Fabian groans. “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, and I’ve been bored out of my mind these past few days. Just do me this one thing. I’ll be your best friend, I swear.”

Remus—who’d never been really good at standing his ground or saying no to people—sighs. “Fine,” he says, “but I’ll have to ask my dad if it’s alright with him.”

Lyall—either oblivious to his son silently pleading for help, or ignoring it—agrees. Remus wants to fake sick right then and there. He doesn’t though, because once the initial shock fades, Lyall looks…relieved to say the least.

He’s been trying so hard to get Remus out of the house more, and everytime Remus refuses it chips away at him. Lyall tries not to show it, but Remus knows how disappointed he is. It’s a bit odd, to see his father look so happy for once, when recently all Remus has been is a source of stress and anxiety for him. It makes him feel guilty.

It really won’t kill me, Remus tells himself, all the way to the playground. Fabian is practically skipping, and he talks non-stop but Remus can’t focus on him much. It’s much too hot for a hoodie, but Remus wishes he’d worn one anyways. He also wishes he hadn’t kept his hair so short. He’d gotten sick of it always falling in his face and decided to have it cut down and kept it that way since. Now, he really wishes he hadn’t.

Seriously, it won’t kill me.

“I’m so sick of PE.” Fabian groans from where he’s laid out on Remus’ bed. His school tie is loosened and he buttoned his shirt wrong—one button too high. “I’m never moving again.”

Remus rolls his eyes, he’s sitting upright next to him. “Do you always have to be so dramatic? Every time you have PE, I have to listen to your wailing for an hour. I hate it too, but it’s not that bad.”

“That’s because you’ve never had to play against Black and Potter,” he whines, “I’m telling you, Remy, they’re not human, it’s not natural.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Remus says dryly.

“Lucky bastard,” he mutters, “I hope you have to play them next year, all on your own, and then you’ll know how I feel.”

“You weren’t on your own, you had a team.”

“And what good did that do me?!”

Remus laughs. “At least we won’t have to do it anymore in sixth form.”

“That’s another four years.” He whines.

“Yep.” Remus grabs his laptop off his bedside table and opens it to an unfinished project for his history class. “Shut up now, I need to work.”

Fabian shuts Remus’ laptop and sits up.

“What—I was using that—”

“Do your homework later,” Fabian says, “let’s go and do something.”

Remus raises an eyebrow at him. “I thought you weren’t planning on moving ever again.” He drums his fingers on his closed laptop. He needs to get this project done.

Fabian waves his hand dismissively. “A moment of weakness. Anyways, I’m bored, which means it’s your job to entertain me.”

“Go back to your own house.” Remus grumbles, even as he puts his laptop to the side. He really should be working.

“Are your Switch controllers charged?” Remus nods—really, they’re his brothers more than anything, he rarely uses them. He could if he wanted to, he just doesn’t really want to.

“Great.” Fabian hops off his bed. “Let’s go do that.”

He should do his homework. He needs to get this project done, he’s been putting it off for too long, and it’s too extensive and important to wait until the last second. Besides, he doesn’t even like video games.

“I want the blue one.” He says, following behind Fabian.

“Did she tell you she was gonna do it?” He and Fabian are sitting on the kerb in front of their houses. Lily had left Fabian’s an hour ago—thought it’d be wrong not to do it in person. She’d texted him when it was over and Fabian had texted him an hour later asking him to come outside.

“Yesterday,” Remus admits, “didn’t know before that.”

“Did she tell you why?” Fabian asks, staring at the pavement. “She just fed me some of that ‘you’re great, but I just don’t like you in that way’ rubbish that people say when they want to end things but don’t want to tell you why.”

“It’s not rubbish,” Remus frowned, “it’s the truth. It’s what she told me.”

“And you believed it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, seriously.” Fabian rolls his eyes. “It’s that whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing, or ‘it’s not the right time for us’. Like, it feels like they’re trying to let you down gently, but I don’t want to be let down gently. I just want her to give it to me straight.”

“She did give it to you straight.” Remus says.

“She didn’t—you know what, nevermind.” Fabian scoffs. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this. It’s not like you’d get it.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Remus’ stomach twists, he doesn’t know why, it’s not like Fabian said anything wrong.

“Are you still gonna go drop her off at the airport tomorrow?” Remus can’t see his face.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Fabian doesn’t say anything. Remus knows he messed up somewhere, he just isn’t sure where.

The day Lily and Fabian got together, Remus wrote his fifth and final letter. It had been well overdue by that point.

Fabian had told him months ago he was interested in her, and though Lily never said anything, Remus still knew. It makes sense. They were both outgoing, both snarky, both the only people who could tolerate Remus for more than one class period at a time. Both redheads, if that counted for anything.

(Lily wasn’t a ginger though. Remus had once called her a ginger because he’d mistakenly believed redhead and ginger were interchangeable. He never made that mistake again.)

They’d gotten together near the beginning of the year. Remus had congratulated them, said it was long overdue, dodged all attempts at an after-school hangout under the guise of giving them alone time, and then gone home and sprawled all his feelings down on a powder blue sheet of paper.

The letters had been his parents’ idea. More or less. His mother used to tell him and Romulus how Lyall would mail her anonymous love letters before he worked up the courage to confess. Hope figured out it was him after a while, but she loved the letters too much to say anything.

When they started dating he still wrote her letters that he’d give her to read after each of their dates. It was a tradition that persisted well into their marriage, during anniversaries, holidays, special occasions, or just because Lyall felt it.

He still writes them sometimes, Remus was looking for the house keys and he found a drawer filled with new letters his father had written after his mother passed. They were all folded in powder blue envelopes—Hope’s favourite colour—with the date written on them. Remus never mentioned it to anyone, and he never opened any of the letters, but sometimes he would check and see if there was anything new in there.

His mother memorized the first letter his father wrote. His father used to say he remembered every single letter he ever wrote for her. The only thing he remembers writing down is how Fabian had been the first friend Remus really made. Lily—who he loves and adores and is forever grateful for—was a family friend. Iris and Hope grew up together, it was only natural their children did the same. He didn’t speak to any of the kids from primary, and it's’ not like he was particularly close with any of them. Fabian was the first person who really chose Remus, no strings or extenuating circumstances involved. That’s probably why he fell for him. It’s nice to be picked.

He folded it up, put it in an envelope—powder blue—dated, stamped, and addressed them, and kept them in a little hat box his mother had given him—also powder blue—under his bed.

He’s tried not to dwell on it these past few months, but tonight it’s all he can think about.

I’m gonna call it off with Fabian.

He said goodbye to Lily maybe a half hour ago. Her flight should be boarding soon, but she’ll probably be too busy once she lands to call him.

“You’re not… upset, are you?”

He’s laying on his bed. His ceiling is white and if he stares hard enough he can make out the faint outlines of where the glow in the dark stars and moon used to be.

I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this. It’s not like you’d get it.

He's laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, and all he can think about is the box beneath his bed and the letter that’s been sitting there for months.

It’s just… I like Fabian, I really do, but I just not in the way you’re supposed to like a boyfriend.

I do, some spiteful part of Remus thinks, I like him exactly how you’re supposed to like a boyfriend. I liked him first. By all accounts, he should’ve been mine.

He feels guilty for it immediately. It’s not as if it’s Lily’s fault—hell, Fabian doesn’t even like boys. She didn’t betray him, she didn’t evenknow, and she was well within her rights to date or not date whoever she fancied.

But still, his traitorous mind whispers, I wouldn’t have left. Because I actually liked him. I liked him first.

“Why didn’t we just drive here?” Roman whines. Romulus had promised to take him to get ice cream, but he ended up getting called in to cover a coworker’s shift. Some kind of family emergency. Roman didn’t complain, but Remus had watched him walk around the house pouting for twenty minutes before he volunteered to take Roman himself.

“Because walking is good for you.” He opens the door to the parlour and is hit with a gust of cold air. Roman practically skips inside. “And we’re already here, so stop complaining.”

“You really need to get over this drive-phobia thing you’ve got going on.”

Remus hits him on the shoulder. “You realize I don’t have to buy you anything, right? I could just not pay.”

“That’s theft.” He says, and skips over to the counter. Roman practically sticks his face against the glass protecting the different tubs of ice cream, and Remus has to pull him back.

Remus already knows his order, two scoops of chocolate in a disposable cup—he doesn’t like cones. Roman isn’t sure what he wants, and keeps bouncing from one end of the display case to the other. Usually, the indecisiveness would make Remus anxious and he’d make Roman sit down so as not to hold up the line, but it’s a small parlour and out of the handful of people here they’re the only ones ordering.

Remus is scrolling through his phone when—seven, eight minutes later?—Roman yanks on his arm.

“I want a waffle bowl.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.” Remus repeats, unimpressed. “You have to get three scoops for a waffle cone, that’s way too much sugar. Besides, you’re not gonna finish it.”

“I will!” He says. “Come on, I swear I will.”

“It’s still too much sugar.”

“I got all As on my report this year.” He whines. “C’mon Remy, please.”

Remus sighed. “Alright, fine. But you have to finish all of it.” Roman nodded and held out a hand.

“I want to order.”

“Get me two scoops of chocolate. In a cup, not a cone.” He handed Roman £15 and watched him skip off to the cashier.

I should ask Fabian if he wants something, he thinks.

No. You’ll have to walk home and it’ll melt.

I could buy him a tub.

Are you kidding me?

What? He’s going through a breakup.

“I’m going to go sit down.” He pulls out his mobile to text Fabian and takes about two steps before he crashes into something solid and yelps, dropping his phone.

“Shit—”

“I got it.” The person—cause it was a person he knocked into—kneels down and grabs his phone. Remus' face turns red.

“I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright.” The stranger stands up and hands Remus his phone and oh, that’s not a stranger. That’s Sirius Black. He crashed into Sirius Black.

His face turns even redder and he stammers out another apology, which Sirius waves off.

“I don’t care, seriously.” and then he grins to himself like he just said something funny. Remus—because he can’t think of anything else during this interaction Sirius might’ve found even remotely entertaining—decides he must be laughing at him, and resolves to promptly hightail it out of here.

Except he can’t. Because of Roman.

“That your brother?” Sirius asks, nodding his head behind Remus to where he must be.

“No.” Remus shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Your cousin, then?”

“No,” Remus shakes his head, “my brother.”

“I just asked you that. ” Sirius frowns at him.

“Sorry,” Remus says, “what?”

“I said I—y’know what, nevermind.” He looks and sounds irritated, and Remus regrets each and every life choice that has brought him to this moment. He’s never leaving his house again.

“So…” Remus begins, because he never knows how to keep his mouth shut. “Do you… come around here often?” He cringes.

That sounds like a bad pickup line. What is wrong with you?!

Sirius snorts. “Sometimes. I’ve never seen you here though.”

“I don’t.” Remus shrugs, then adds, “Come around here… often.”

God, please, stop talking.

Sirius eyes him. “Right, okay.”

“Okay.” Remus says.

“You’re friends with Evans, right?” He asks after an uncomfortably long silence.

Remus deflates a little at that. “Yeah, I am.” Of course Sirius Black only knows him as Lily’s friend.

“Remington, was it?”

Remus chokes. “No,” his voice comes out strained, “Remus. My name’s Remus.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.” Sirius says, although he doesn’t really sound all that sorry. “Though in my defence, you can’t really blame me.”

Yes, I can, Remus wants to yell at him. We went to primary together. We’ve had at least one lesson together for the past four years. We were partnered together for that project in English literature, back in year nine. That’s why I wrote you that stupid letter.

Instead he waves it off. “It’s fine.”

Fucking Remington. God, this guy was such a prick. Remus can’t believe he ever fancied him.

“Yeah, anyways.” Sirius digs his hands into the pocket of his leather jacket. Who wears a leather jacket in this kind of weather? “Evans and Prewett, they still a thing?”

“No.” Remus says instinctively, and then immediately regrets it. It’s not like he was lying but would Lily be okay with him telling Black about it? Oh god, what if he went and told Lily that Remus let it slip about their breakup and she hated him for it. Then again, wouldn’t it be worse to lie and say they were still together? Or maybe Lily wanted people to find out on her own terms? He should call her tonight to explain himself and apologize.

“Oh, that’s great.” Sirius says, and Remus eyes him. “No, not great, sorry,” he backtracks, “Uhh, just… Some of the others are throwing a party tomorrow, y’know, just to get it all out of our system before school starts up again. You and Evans should come. I could—”

“Lily’s in Ireland,” Remus says, “She won’t be back until the day before the term starts.”

“Oh. Well, you should still come,” Sirius says, but Remus knows he’s saying it more to be nice than anything. “I can text you the information.”

“You don’t have my number.” Remus says, and immediately wishes he hadn’t because now it sounds like he’s asking for Sirius’ number.

“I could—”

“I don't want your number!” Remus half-screams.

Sirius stares at him. “Okay.” He says, eventually.

Just then Roman skips over to Remus, holding a waffle cone in one hand and a cup in the other.

“I got three different flavours.” He says, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Well then,” Remus says, “I’ve gotta get home. Farewell, Mr. Black.” He grabs Roman by his elbow and drags him out of the store before he can protest, not looking back once.

“I don’t want to go home,” Roman whines, “why can’t we eat here.”

“Roman, I will give you a twenty when we get home. I’ll convince dad and Romulus to order pizza for dinner. I’ll let you play on my laptop. I will do literally anything you want, just please co-operate with me right now.”

“Fine,” Roman says, “but we’re getting extra olives.”

“I hate olives.” Remus mutters.

“You said anything I want.”

“I know. I still hate olives though,” he says, “here, give me my ice cream.”

“So, who was that? At the parlour?” Roman asks him when they’re almost home. His ice cream—chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla—is smeared all over his face and hands and staining the front of his shirt. Remus doesn’t know how he’s managed to do that. His waffle bowl has a half-melted puddle of ice cream, sprinkles, and chocolate sauce all mixing together.

“Just someone from school.”

“He goes to Hogwarts too?”

“Yeah. He's in my year though, you wouldn’t know him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Why’re you asking so many questions?” Remus can see their house now. Fabian is out in his front garden—probably tending to the flowers his mother had planted a few months ago.

“Was just wondering.” Roman takes a bite out his waffle bowl, and gets ice cream on his nose. “So what’s his name?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Remus wrinkles his nose. “His name’s Sirius.”

Roman swallows and breaks off another piece of his waffle bowl, dipping it in his ice cream soup like it was a crisp. “Like the word? Like ‘you being serious’?”

“Like the star.”

“There’s a star called ‘Serious’?” Fabian spots them and waves.

“Yeah.” Remus waves back.

“So is he your boyfriend now?”

Remus stops dead in his tracks. Roman takes a few more steps before he notices Remus isn’t beside him, and turns to look at him

“Sorry,” Remus says, “what did you say?”

“I asked if Serious was your boyfriend.”

“Are you taking the piss?” The only thing stopping Remus from yelling hysterically in the middle of the street was that Fabian—who was leaning against the fence separating their houses—would definitely hear him.

“No,” Roman frowns, “why would I be?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” Roman says, “you were all weird and blushy when you were talking to him. What was I s’posed to think?”

“You are so stupid,” Remus hisses, “I wasn’t blushing—”

“You’re blushing right now—”

“Shut up!” Remus snaps. “I’m not blushing, I’m… sweating. It’s hot out.”

“Was it also hot in the ice cream parlour?”

“Leave me alone,” Remus groans. “Just… eat your ice cream. And mind your own.”

Roman shrugs, and skips over to where Fabian is standing, just on their side of the fence. “Look what I got,” he says, standing on his tiptoes.

“It’s all melted now,” Remus says, approaching them, “I don’t know what you’re showing him.”

“Oh, Fabian, guess what,” Roman says, “when we were buying ice cream, Remus—”

Remus kicks his leg and Roman yelps. He glares up at Remus who mouths ‘don’t’ at him.

“What happened with Remus?” Fabian asks, looking between the two of them.

“He tripped walking in.” Roman says.

Fabian snorts. “‘Course he did. Hey, how come you didn’t grab anything for me?”

“Oh.” Remus says, having only now realised that in his haste to get away from Sirius, he’d forgotten about buying Fabian a tub. “No point. Would have melted.”

“Brought you back a souvenir.”

“You didn’t have to buy me anything.” Remus frowned but took the bag from Lily.

“Just open it.” Lily huffed, plopping onto her yellow daybed. Remus had been helping her unpack, which really just consisted of Lily haphazardly throwing her stuff around the room until Remus got annoyed enough he took over and did everything for her.

Inside the box was a little ceramic trinket—an old looking ‘book’ on its side, with four other vintage ‘books’ standing atop it, side by side. The four books have a hollow top, and the one on its side has a knob in the centre of its spine.

“It’s a penholder,” Lily says, “The bottom’s for storage.”

Sure enough, Remus pulls on the little knob and the ‘spine’ slides out to reveal a little container.

“You’ve got a whole well of stationery, and I’m sick of all your pens and pencils being in different drawers. It’s driving me bonkers, ‘specially since you’re ‘sposed to be the organized one.”

“It’s not that bad,” Remus rolls his eyes, “thanks though. It’ll go great with everything else on my desk.”

“I would’ve gotten you a mug, but I know you want to get them from places you’ve visited yourself.”

“Nah, don’t worry.” Remus put the penholder down on Lily’s vanity and sat down next to her. “I like it, it’s a sound gift.”

“Wasn’t worried.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. “I missed you.”

Remus leaned his head on hers and threw an arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t.”

“Prick.” Lily huffs.

“How was Ireland?”

“Good, I guess.”

“How were your grandparents?”

“Daideo’s memory has gotten worse,” Lily said, “sometimes, he thought I was mum. Tuney was fuming whenever that happened, since she says she looks more like her. But I’ve got mum’s hair and eyes, not like it’s my fault.”

“I think you’ve got your dad’s eyes.” Remus says, “they’re the same shape.”

“Yeah, but his are blue.”

Remus shrugged. “Sure. What about your nan?”

“Oh, don’t get me started.” Lily groaned. “Tuney spent the whole trip whinging about something or the other, and whenever mum and dad told her to just suck it up, she’d take whatever she was upset about out on me. And then mamó would always say ‘oh, Lily, your sister’s going through a hard time, we’ve just got to be a little nicer to her.’ She and mum got into a bit of a spat over it, as you can imagine. God, I feel like such a tosser for saying this, because she’s still my mamó and she’s still very nice and sweet and she loves me and whatnot, but sometimes I really can’t stand to be around her.”

“You’re not a tosser,” Remus rubbed Lily’s arm. “Your nan is, if anything.”

“Remus!”

“What? It’s not like I’m wrong.”

“I’m just glad to be home,” Lily huffed, “and I’m glad school’s starting up again.”

“Don’t talk about school,” Remus said, “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Fine.” Lily paused. “How’s Fabian?”

“He’s… good.”

“Is he?”

“Yeah. I mean, he was when we were hanging out. Why?”

“I don't know,” Lily said, “I was just wondering. He’s still my friend. I think.”

“Have you guys talked at all since you broke up?” Remus asked.

“Nah, neither of us has tried.” Lily frowned. “Though I guess it’s probably more on me to reach out. Or no, is it on him?”

“You think you two will be okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know.” Remus shrugged. “Maybe something to do with how school’s starting up again and you two haven’t spoken to each other once?”

“It’ll all be fine… I don’t know. ” Lily elbowed him. “Stop talking about him now.”

“You’re the one who brought him up.”

“Shut up.”

Remus was a morning person and usually the first to wake, so he got dressed and made breakfast while Romulus was in charge of waking up Roman and getting him dressed. Their father took one of the cars to work and Romulus would drive the other to take the three of them to school. It was their routine, and it worked for them. Romulus wasn’t here anymore. His university was close enough that he could come home on weekends and holidays but far enough he lived there during the week.

When the clock hit 7:50 and Roman still wasn’t down, Remus had gone up to find him still sleeping. He’d had to rush him through getting dressed and breakfast. Roman had complained Remus hadn’t woken him, and Remus told him he should be doing it himself. By the time they made it to the car, Remus was sure they were going to be late. And on his first day too.

“Can’t you drive faster?” Roman grumbled. “There is such a thing as going too far below the speed limit.”

“How about you learn to wake yourself up and we wouldn’t be having this problem?” He suddenly feels very cold all over, which is odd given the current weather.

“If you learned to drive properly we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

“If you just agreed to take the bus like I wanted,” Remus said through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be having this problem.” His palms feel sweaty and there's a vague, sinking feeling in his gut.

“I’m not waking up that early just because you have verbophobia.”

“Vehophobia.” Remus corrected. There were two routes to get to Hogwarts—one with the motorway, and one without. Romulus always took the motorway, since it was faster. They’re coming up on the entrance to it now, Remus can see it up ahead. His throat feels a little tight.

Roman’s grumbling about something but Remus can’t make it out. His chest burns and he feels dizzy and nauseous. He tries to breathe but his throat is completely closed off. The edges of his vision go black, and all he can see is the motorway. Roman is still talking, but he can’t hear him over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears like a death march. His hands tighten on the wheel, and his breathing grows more frantic as he tries to force his lungs to fill.

At the last second, he veers sharply to the side—away from the motorway entrance. He keeps driving straight until the traffic thins and he pulls his car off the side of the road. He shuts his eyes and rests his head against the steering wheel. His breathing softens, and his hands are still shaking but the world slowly fades back into focus.

“—was that. Are you alright?” Roman asks.

Remus swallows. “Yeah.” He doesn’t lift his head. “Yeah, just give me a second.”

“You’ve gotta turn the car around.”

“No.” Remus sits up, his head is pounding and he wants nothing more than to just go home, crawl into his bed and never come out. “We’re not taking the motorway.”

“We’re gonna be late—”

“God, would you shut up?!” Remus snaps. “We wouldn’t be late if you had just woken yourself up on time.”

Roman shrinks in his seat. “Romulus always wakes me up—”

“Romulus isn’t here,” Remus yells, “and even if he was, it wouldn’t matter. You have a phone for a reason. Set an alarm—set five alarms, I don’t care, just stop acting like such a fucking child!”

Roman grabs his schoolbag and opens the door of the car.

“What are you doing?” Remus yells after him.

Roman slams the passenger door shut and climbs into the backseat of the car. His arms are folded and his face is turned away from Remus, towards the window of the car. Remus can’t make out his features, but he sees his chin wobble and all the anger drains out of him. It’s really not Roman’s fault, and he had no business taking this out on him.

“Do you wanna get ice cream after school?” He asks. Roman doesn’t look at him, but he shakes his head no. He swallows and his shoulders start to shake.

“Do… you wanna go to Honeydukes?” Roman remains still, and then shakes his head no, wiping at a tear that rolls down his cheek. Remus is the worst person alive.

“I’m sorry—”

“Just drive.” Roman hiccups and then slaps a hand over his mouth.

By the time they get to school it’s 9:05 and they’ve basically missed tutoring period. Remus tries to speak to his brother, but Roman climbs out the car and starts gunning it to his class before he’s even turned the car off.

Since it’s the first day, he doesn’t get any schoolwork. He gets ice breakers instead, which is worse. His classes are all slow, and awkward, and tedious, and he didn’t take any of the same GCSEs as Lily or Fabian, which means he’s well and truly on his own. He meets up with Lily during lunch, but neither of them has seen Fabian all day.

He’s relieved once his last class of the day—english literature—rolls around. He picks a seat in the back, closest to the door. He likes sitting there so he can leave as soon as the bell rings, and so he doesn’t have to walk past and be scrutinized by the others everytime he goes to his seat.

Typically, this is his favourite subject. Typically.

Sirius Black is taking this subject as well, and Remus knows he’s not imagining the way Sirius keeps looking back at him. He knows he made a fool of himself in front of him, but he really doesn’t think it warrants the way Black is eyeing him.

Remus has never been more relieved to be dismissed from school in his life. Or he would be, except the second McGonagall dismisses them, Sirius springs out of his seat and rushes over to Remus’ desk. The other students stare at them curiously. Remus doesn’t like being stared at curiously.

“Right, so, we should talk.” Sirius says.

“We should?” Remus tries not to give mind to the students whispering around them.

“Yeah,” Sirius says, “so, if you could just hang back here for a minute.”

Remus shrugs. “Sure.”

It takes maybe ten minutes total for all the other students to trickle out of the classroom. McGonagall is about to usher them out the door when Sirius asks if they could have the room for a minute, and promises they’ll behave. McGonagall looks unimpressed but allows it.

“For the record,” Sirius begins once the door’s shut, “I don’t go around snogging anything that moves.”

“Um,” Remus blinks, “okay?”

“And I am, in fact, capable of thinking of someone other than myself.”

“I… believe you?” Remus says. “I’m sorry, why’re you telling me all this?”

“Because you’re the one who wrote it.” Sirius scoffs.

“What? Wrote it where?”

“Don’t be daft,” Sirius snaps, “in your letter.”

No, Remus prays to every god he can think of, please, no.

“What letter?” Please be wrong, please be wrong, please be wrong.

Sirius pulls a folded blue envelope out of his schoolbag. The colour is faded, and it’s a bit more crumpled up from when Remus last saw it, but it is undeniably his. He recognizes the little black dog stamp he’d chosen for it, remembers thinking how clever he was.

God isn’t real, Remus decides, right then and there.

“Look, this is…it’s sweet and all.” Sirius says, but everything about him from his tone to his posture conveys that he finds this more irritating than sweet. “I’m flattered, but me and Barty just broke up. We’re in a weird place and—y’know what, it doesn’t matter, I don’t really know what you were hoping to accomplish with this.”

“I wrote those years ago—”

“I know,” Sirius says, “it’s dated. Why you sent it now—”

“I didn’t,” Remus says, “I don’t know how you got that, but it wasn’t me. I don’t really like you at all anymore, so could I just have that back?”

Sirius hesitates. “You’re sure, right? Cause I don’t want—”

“Sirius Black, I really do not like you as a romantic prospect or a person,” Remus says, “so if you could please just give that back. I don’t even remember anything in it.”

“Sure.” Sirius shrugs and hands him the letter. Remus grabs it and shoves it in his schoolbag.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t.”

“Not even James.”

Sirius pauses.

“Sirius, please.” Remus says, on the verge of hysterics. “Please, you can’t tell anyone, it would be—”

“Yeah, alright,” Sirius says, “relax, I won’t tell anyone, not even James. Swear.”

“Thank you,” Remus sighs, and makes his way to the door. There’s a few students still lingering in the corridor, either packing up or catching up with their friends.

“So,” Sirius follows behind him, “you really like my eyes.”

“I don’t.” Remus groans, his face burning. “I wasn’t joking when I said I—”

“Hey, isn’t that your friend?”

“Who?” Remus turns and sees Fabian making his way down the corridor, pushing past the throng of students and making a beeline for Remus. He’s holding a blue envelope in one of his hands.

“I thought—”

Remus turns to Sirius. “I’m so sorry.” He says, and then he grabs Sirius’ face and kisses him. Perhaps instinctively, Sirius’ hands come up to Remus’s shoulders, but he doesn’t push him away, he just rests his hands there.

When he was younger, Remus had spent countless hours fantasising about this, imagined snogging him and running his hands through Sirius’ hair and going on dates while they held hands under the table.

The thing about kissing Sirius Black is that it’s…real. Real in a way his pubescent imagination never prepared him for. His skin is soft—much softer than Remus’ own—and he tastes like vanilla. Smells like it too. It’s overpowering, but Remus doesn’t mind.

When they break apart, Sirius is staring up at him wide-eyed and red faced. He didn’t know somebody as pale as Sirius could ever get that red, but Remus thinks it suits him. Sirius blinks, he has long, dark eyelashes and grey eyes, and Remus remembers being obsessed with them just a few short years ago. He could’ve written sonnets about Sirius’ eyes.

He can hear the students around them whispering and it’s only then he remembers that Fabian is a few short steps away, holding a letter, his letter, and the reality of the situation hits him in full force.

“Well, thanks for that.” Remus says, and then he drops Sirius’ face and hightails it out of the corridor. He doesn’t stop until he’s back at the car park, where he spots Roman waiting for him.

“Where have you been—”

“I’m sorry,” Remus says, “I’m sorry, but we have to go. Now.” Roman eyes him but gets in the car.

The second they're home, Remus runs straight into his room and tears it apart. He searches his bed, his closet, his drawers, and he can’t find his hat box anywhere. He spends thirty minutes looking before he gives up and just sits in the middle of his floor.

This isn’t happening, Remus thinks, this is not happening.

“Remus,” Roman calls from his doorframe, “Fabian’s at the door. He wants to talk to you.”

“I’m not here.” Remus says, and then he jumps up, and makes his way to his window.

“Where are you going?” Roman asks.

“I don’t know,” Remus says, crawling out of his window, “just tell him I’m not home.”

He trips on a loose tile, and rolls down the slanted roof of his house, falling into his front garden. It hurts, but it’s not so big of a fall that anything’s broken. Groaning, he grabs his bike and starts pedaling away from his house.

What am I gonna tell Lily?

Chapter Text

Remus bikes aimlessly around his neighbourhood for a good hour before he deems it safe enough to go back home. He skives off school by faking sick, and, though he reads the dozen of texts from both Fabian and Lily asking to talk, he doesn’t answer them.

They both try visiting him, but Remus begs Lyall to lie and say he’s not home or he’s too sick for visitors. He’s not sure either of them believe his father, but as long as he can manage to put off confronting his problems for a little while longer, Remus doesn’t care.

The first fortnight of school passes when Lyall sits him down and tells him he needs to go back after this weekend’s over.

“You’re taking your GCSEs this year,” his dad reminds him, “I don’t know what’s going on with you and your friends, but it’s not worth sabotaging your entire future over.” Which, yeah, okay, is fair. More or less.

He knows, logically, he can’t avoid his friends forever. ‘Specially seeing as Fabian lives right next door, and avoiding him has been a quite gruelling task in particular.

He’s been trying to work out what to say for the past few days—he could tell Fabian the letter wasn’t from him, if not for the fact that Fabian definitely recognized the paper and the handwriting. He could say he wrote it as a prank but that just makes him seem like an arse. Telling Fabian the truth—that he wrote it a long time ago, no longer has any feelings for him, and never sent the letter out—is probably the most rational course of action, but it still has one major caveat:

Lily. How’s he supposed to explain he spent months pining over her boyfriend and kept it a secret from her while still preserving their friendship? Even if Lily wasn’t mad at him for the crush—which, on its own, she probably wouldn’t be—Remus can recognize writing him a love letter was probably a line he shouldn’t have crossed. Mailing it to him right after they broke up makes it that much worse, and even if Remus knows he didn’t send it, the timing and circumstances aren’t working in his favour.

There’s also the matter of Sirius Black. Who he kissed. In a school corridor. With other students watching.

Sirius Black is a non-issue, Remus thinks, even as his face burns and his eyes are drawn to the drawer he stuffed Sirius’ letter in. Remus hasn’t reread it, no matter how tempting it was. He’d like to preserve some of his dignity. Besides, Sirius swore he wouldn’t tell anybody. Not even James. He’s not somebody Remus needs to factor into this.

Or he thought he wasn’t.

It’s Saturday night, the sun’s gone down and Remus is about to go to sleep when he gets a text from an unknown number. Usually he’d just ignore it, but he reads the message on instinct and pauses.

unknown: how far’s your house from za coffee?

ZA Coffee was an old greasy spoon that was styled to look like an 80s American diner, with its bright, neon colours and funky patterns. Remus liked it because it was never too busy and he could easily study or read there if he wanted to get out of his room. The food was pretty good too, especially with how cheap it was. It wasn’t far from his house at all, right on the same street as Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.

Remus: Who’s this?

unknown: sirius
unknown: sirius black
unknown: if that wasn’t clear

Remus frowned. He’d never given Sirius his number, and he can’t see any reason why Sirius would go looking for it.

Remus: I think you have the wrong number.

unknown: who the fuck punctuates over text
unknown: and no I don’t
unknown: I got your number off evans
unknown: unless she lied to me
unknown: wait shit
unknown: is this remus
unknown: lupin
unknown: wolf boy

Okay. So, not the wrong number then. But not necessarily Sirius either. He can’t imagine Lily giving away his number to anyone—least of all Sirius Black—and that still doesn’t explain why Sirius would be asking for it. Besides, he doesn’t imagine Sirius as the kind of person who’d send multiple texts in a row.

Remus: Yes, this is Remus.
Remus: Who’s this?

unknown: omfg
unknown: why do you text like that
unknown: and I already told you
unknown: this is sirius

Remus: I don’t buy that.
Remus: Lily wouldn’t give Sirius my number.

unknown: and why not??

Remus: She doesn’t like him all that much.

unknown: rude
unknown: and this IS sirius
unknown: you wrote me that love letter

Remus: …
Remus: Alright, I believe you.
Remus: Why’re you texting me?

unknown: my question first
unknown: how far are you from za coffee

Remus: Twenty minutes. Why?

unknown: ok great
unknown: come here

Remus: Right now?

unknown: no
unknown: next week
unknown: ofc right now
unknown: get a move on

Remus glanced down. He was already in his pyjamas, legs covered by his comforter. He doesn’t want to go out now, and if he does, he’ll most likely have to field a lot of questions from his father. That and he doesn’t want Sirius to think he can just order him to do things and he’ll do it.

Remus: No.
Remus: I’m going to bed.

unknown: don’t be difficult
unknown: get over here

Remus: And what if I don’t?

unknown: then I’ll tell everyone you wrote me a love letter and kissed me when I tried turning you down??
unknown: obviously

Goddammit. Remus groaned, and climbed out of bed. He debated changing into proper clothes, but he was tired, and the faster he got to ZA Coffee, the faster he could see whatever it was Sirius wanted, and the faster he could go to sleep.

Remus: Give me thirty minutes.

unknown: I’ll be counting down the seconds
unknown: ;)

Remus grimaced. He hates this guy.

“Where are you going?” his father asks, when he sees Remus pulling on his trainers. He considered just going out in his wolf slippers—a gag gift from Lily—but he refuses to give Sirius ‘wolf boy’ Black the satisfaction.

“Out,” Remus says, “to ZA Coffee.”

“At this hour?” His father looks out the window, at the night sky, and then back at Remus. “Aren’t you usually in bed by now?”

“Yeah, well,” Remus shrugs, “ This wasn’t planned, and a… a friend asked to meet up.”

“Lily?” His father asks.

“No.”

“Oh, Fabian, then.”

“No.”

Lyall pauses. “Sorry, what?”

“It’s a new friend,” Remus says, “you don’t know him.”

He waits for the barrage of questions: how long will you be gone? Who else is going to be there? Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner? What are you all meeting up for? All things he’d asked Romulus whenever he’d leave the house for one of his many spontaneous gatherings.

“Okay,” Lyall says, “just don’t stay out too late.”

Remus blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t stay out too late,” Lyall repeats, “though, I guess since it’s a Saturday it doesn’t matter all that much. Just take a key with you so you can let yourself back in.”

“I… you don’t care?” Remus asks in disbelief.

“You’re a kid,” Lyall smiles, “go, have fun. It's the weekend.”

“Okay.” Remus walks backwards until he hits the door. He fumbles for the knob, never taking his eyes off his father once.

“I’m opening the door.” He says, opening the door.

“Alright.”

“I’m walking out of the door.”

“I can see that.”

“I’m leaving—”

“Remus, please stop narrating everything you’re doing. It’s very off putting.”

“Sorry.” He says, ducking his head and shutting the door behind him. He realizes, only after, that he forgot to grab a key like his father said. It’s alright though, he won’t be gone for long, so it’s not like he’ll need it anyway.

His bike is parked in the garden, and though it’s just chilly enough for a coat, he doesn’t grab one because he figures the exercise will serve fine as a substitute. He manages to get down the steps of his veranda before he’s noticed.

“Remus?” A voice calls out, and Remus freezes. Slowly, he turns his head and sees Fabian, standing in his own front garden and staring at him incredulously.

“Hi, Fabian.” Remus’ voice cracks and he winces.

“What’re you doing out here? I thought you were sick.” Fabian frowns at him, and Remus can tell by his tone that he hadn’t bought the lie for a second.

“Been up in my room too long,” Remus says, “figured some fresh air might do me some good. What’re you doing?”

“Fresh air, same as you.” Fabian scoffs. “Funny though, how you’re too sick to come to school, or to talk to me, but when it comes to sneaking out of your home you’re right as rain.”

“I wasn’t sneaking out.” Remus wrings his hands together, feeling guilty. “And I’m sorry I haven’t been speaking to you.”

“It’s fine.” Fabian says, and the two of them lapse into an uncomfortable silence. It’s after a minute passes with neither of them speaking that Remus remembers Sirius. He told him thirty minutes, and he should leave soon if he wants to stay within that time constraint.

“So,” he begins, “I should—”

“About that letter.” Fabian interrupts.

Remus laughs, “what letter?”

“Don’t do that.” Fabian says, his brows furrow and he looks annoyed. “You know what letter.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Remus nods, feeling chastised. “You’re right, I do know what letter.”

“I just…” Fabian trails off, and sighs. He looks frustrated, like he can't figure out how he should phrase whatever it is he wants to say. Remus really, really, doesn’t want to hear it.

“I wrote that letter forever ago,” Remus blurts out, “and I honestly don’t remember anything about it.”

Fabian frowns. “It says you wrote it when Lily and I got together.”

Remus made a lot of questionable decisions as a child. These letters were clearly the worst ones.

“Right, yeah,” Remus says, “I did, I just… it feels like forever because I think back to it and it feels like a completely different person wrote it. I mean, I have no idea what I was thinking.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fabian asks. “You know, back when this all happened.”

“There was nothing to tell.” Remus shrugs, his voice abnormally high pitched. “It was just a little crush, then you and Lily started seeing each other and I wrote that letter and forgot all about it.”

“But then why did you send it?” Fabian presses. His eyes search Remus’ face, and he looks equal parts confused and desperate.

“I didn’t,” Remus admits, “I don’t know how they got out, but it wasn’t me.”

“So you had nothing to do with it?” Fabian looks at him in disbelief. “I mean, seriously?”

Seriously

Sirius is at ZA, Remus thinks, panicking, it’s had to have been ten minutes by now. I need to leave.

“Nope.” Remus says, backing away from his house. “I really didn’t, and I’d really appreciate it if you could please not mention this to Lily.”

“Lily and I haven’t spoken in months,” Fabian says.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I won’t tell her anything. I swear.” Fabian frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, just for a walk,” Remus says. He’s down his drive by now, and he needs to talk just a bit louder to make sure Fabian hears him.

“At this hour?” Fabian says. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Usually,” Remus agrees, “but I wasn’t feeling tired. Figured I might as well.”

“I’ll come with you,” Fabian says, “I still have some question—”

“No!” Remus yells. Well, he doesn't really yell per say, but it's the middle of the night so it feels much louder than it was.

The surprise on Fabian’s face quickly morphs into anger. “You can’t keep avoiding me,” he growled, “we need to talk—”

“I’m not avoiding you.” Remus says before he can think better of it, “I’m just meeting up with someone, and I can’t have you there.”

“You said you were going on a walk.” Fabian points out.

“Yes,” Remus agrees, “a walk to ZA Coffee. That’s where we’re meeting up. And I really have to go now.”

“I don’t see why I can’t be there if Lily is,” Fabian says, “maybe we haven’t talked—”

“It’s not Lily.” The moment the words have left his mouth Remus knows he’s messed up.

Fabian pauses, and looks at him in disbelief. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m not meeting up with Lily.”

“Then who?”

Sirius hesitates. If he backtracks and says Lily, Fabian’ll insist on coming along. That, or he’ll ask Lily herself, who’ll just tell him the truth. Though, he could ask Lily to lie for him, but then he’ll have to come up with a lie for why he’s lying.

If he says Sirius, well… Fabian saw them kiss in the corridor. It’s not like he would have reason to doubt him, but he doesn’t like the idea of Fabian thinking he’s ‘sneaking out’ for Sirius Black.

“You don’t know him.” Remus says, eventually. “Look, I really have to go now.”

“Fine,” Fabian relents, “when’ll you be back?”

“I don’t know, not too long.” Remus says, and then he turns around and nearly runs down the pavement before Fabian can get the opportunity to ask him another question. He thinks he hears Fabian call out to him but he doesn’t slow his pace until he’s three blocks down.

He’s halfway to ZA Coffee when he starts to feel cold and remembers he forgot to grab his bike. He should’ve taken a coat. He tries jogging the rest of the way and learns quickly he doesn’t have the stamina for it, so he resigns himself to speed walking and occasionally rubbing his arm. He shouldn’t have worn a t-shirt.

He’s covered with goose pimples and lightly shivering by the time he finally gets to ZA. It doesn’t take him long to find Sirius, seeing as the place is nearly empty. He’s sitting in one of the banquettes, staring aimlessly at his phone. He’s got a black bag next to him, and he doesn't notice the door opening. Doesn’t notice Remus approaching him either, until he slides into the seat in front of him.

“Oh, finally.” Sirius says, putting his phone down on the memphis-patterned table. “It took you ages getting here.”

“I was about to turn in,” Remus grumbled, “why’d you drag me out here?”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Sirius said, “but you’ve been skiving, so…”

“I’m coming back on Monday.”

“Y’know what, that’s great,” Sirius grins, “because I need you on Monday.”

“For what?” Remus groaned. “What could possibly be so important that you dragged me out here at this time of night.”

“This time of night?” Sirius stared at him in disbelief. “It’s half past eleven.”

“Yeah, and I go to sleep at eleven.”

“How old are you?”

“Oh my god.” Remus dragged out the end of his sentence and slinked down in his seat. “Just tell me why I’m here or I’ll leave.”

“If you leave, I’ll just tell everybody about the letter.” Even though, less than an hour ago, the threat had been enough to drag Remus out of his bed, he doesn’t find himself feeling particularly worried. Maybe it’s being able to actually see him, but he gets the feeling Sirius won’t rat him out.

Remus sits up in his seat, and folds his hands on the table in front of him. “Why am I here?” he asks, for what feels like the dozenth time. Sirius' eyes land on his shirt.

“You listen to Bowie?”

“What?” Remus looks down at his ratty old David Bowie shirt. It’d been a hand-me-down from his father. “Oh, yeah. Sometimes. My dad’s the one who really likes him, I just know a few of his songs.”

Sirius scoffs. “You’re so boring. You should listen to more—”

“Focus!” Remus snaps, slamming his palms down on the table. “I’m tired, I’m cold, I’m hungry, I wanna go to bed. Why am I here?”

“Alright, jeez.” Sirius leans back into his seat, one arm stretching over the top of the banquette. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot.”

“I’ll knot my knickers if I want to!” Remus says, only to be hit with an immediate wave of regret and self-loathing.

“Right,” Sirius snorts, “you do that, then.”

“You were saying something?” Remus presses.

“Right, sorry. So, you remember how you wrote me a letter professing your deep, undying, and obsessive love for me, and then when I tried to turn you down you snogged me in front of the entire school.”

“I did not profess any kind of love for you,” Remus grimaces, “and it wasn't the entire school.”

“Okay, maybe not,” Sirius agrees, “but the entire school knows about it, so it makes no difference, really.”

Remus curses himself for complaining so much about the cold, seeing as his face is now impossibly warm.

“There’s no way the entire school knows.” Remus says, but he knows he’s wrong. If it had been anybody else, the gossip would have remained relatively contained, but since it was Sirius, he’s sure even the seventh years have heard. Suddenly, he remembers that Roman also goes to his school, and though he hasn’t brought the kiss up to Remus, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard of it. Remus tends to keep a low profile, so he’s hoping nobody who was there knows his name, though he knows that’s unlikely.

“No, the entire school.” Sirius insisted, oblivious to Remus’ internal strife, “I’ve had to field questions for the past two weeks because of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus cringes, “what’d you tell them?”

“I told everyone that you and I had been talking for a while, but we hadn’t really put a label on it yet.” Sirius looks down at the table and grimaces. “This place is so greasy.”

“It’s modeled after an American diner,” Remus says, unamused, “of course it’s greasy. Seriously though, what’d you tell them?”

“Exactly what I just told you.”

Remus pauses, and he feels suddenly nauseous. “Are you having a laugh?”

Sirius clicks his tongue and shakes his head. He’s seeing all the ‘I need to talk to you’ texts from Lily in a new light.

“Why would you do that?” He shrieks, and the few patrons that are there send him concerned glances.

“D’you wanna order food?” Sirius says, ignoring Remus’ outburst. “I mean, you said you were hungry.”

“No, I don’t want food!”

“I’ll pay.”

“I want an explanation,” Remus said through gritted teeth, “and chocolate pancakes. With squirty cream, since you’re paying.”

“You want a drink?”

“Hot chocolate, please.”

“I’ll be right back.” Sirius climbs out of his seat and makes his way over to the register. Remus watches him the entire time, glaring daggers into his back. He’s wearing that stupid leather jacket again, and this time Remus can see the big white outline of a star on the back. Kind of narcissistic for a bloke named after a star, but it’s not like anyone has ever accused Sirius of being humble.

“They said they’ll send our food out soon.” Sirius says, sliding back into his seat.

“Okay,” Remus says, “now explain.”

“What would you have me say?” Sirius drummed his fingers on the table, and Remus saw little tiny stars doodled all over his fingers in pen ink. “People asked me questions, and I went with the route that was least humiliating for you. You’re welcome.”

“No.” Remus says. Sirius smiles at him, as if asking him to elaborate, so he does. “You wouldn’t imply you were interested in me just to help me save face. We’re not friends, and you’re not that nice. And even if you did, you wouldn’t have dragged me out here to tell me this. What do you want?”

“You’re so critical,” Sirius grins, “maybe I just want the pleasure of your company.”

“I will leave—”

“You ordered pancakes. You're not going anywhere.”

Remus sighs. “No, I’m not. Can you please just tell me what I’m doing here, though?”

Sirius went from carefree to—for lack of a better word—serious so fast it nearly gave Remus whiplash.

“Why’d you kiss me?” Sirius asks. “I already told you I wasn’t interested—”

“I’m not either.” Remus says, and Sirius looks at him disbelievingly.

“I’m serious—”

“No, I’m—”

“Shut up. I’m not interested in you, I promise.”

“You’re saying that now,” Sirius says flatly, “but what about next time we see eachother in school and you feel like jumping me again?”

“I didn’t jump you,” Remus says harshly, “I don’t even like you.”

“I don’t think the word ‘like’ means whatever you think it means.”

“I don’t,” Remus groans, “Okay, look, there’s this guy who… I like him—liked him, and I didn’t want him to know it so I needed to make him think I like somebody else, and… you were right there.”

“Wait, hold on,” Sirius says, “you fancy Fabian Prewett?”

Remus blanches. “How’d you guess that?”

“Because I pointed him out to you, right before you freaked out and kissed me.” Sirius shrugs. “Who else could it have been? Wait, didn’t he and Evans date?”

“Yes,” Remus nods, “and he got a letter, which is why—”

“What?!” Sirius shot up straight. “I’m not the only person that got a letter?”

“No,” Remus scoffs, “why would you be?”

“Wow, Lupin.” Sirius whistles slowly. “I thought you and I had something special. Come to find out you’ve been two-timing me. And with Prewett of all people.”

“Five-timing, technically.”

“You wrote five letters?” Sirius said in disbelief. “And you never meant to send any of them?”

Remus shook his head.

“You have to tell me who,” Sirius said, just as the waitress arrived with their food. She set down Remus’ pancakes and hot chocolate, and then came back with a chicken burger, chips, and a glass of coke for Sirius.

“I’m not telling you who.”

“You keep forgetting I have leverage over you, I could tell the whole school about that letter.” Sirius says, biting into his burger.

“You won’t.” Remus says, starting on his pancakes.

“I won’t,” Sirius agrees, “but you should tell me anyway. If you don’t, I’ll just keep bothering you until you do.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Remus sighs, “Okay, so there’s you, Fabian, Caradoc Dearborn—”

Sirius made an affronted noise. “You grouped me in with Caradoc Dearborn?!”

“What’s wrong with Caradoc?” Said Remus defensively.

“He’s clapped,” Sirius scoffs, “raise your standards, Lupin.”

“You’re such a prick.” Remus scoffs. “He’s never going to get the letter, anyways. I didn’t know where he lived so I addressed the envelope to the library, since I used to see him there. They sent it right back.”

“Who else?”

“There’s Adrian Moloney—”

“Of course you wrote him a letter,” Sirius groans, “the two of you probably wear peony flower crowns, shut off all your lights, and then wank it to framed pictures of Edgar Allen Poe by rose-scented candlelight.”

“That is… vivid.” Remus blinks. “He’s not going to get his letter either, if you care. It’s addressed to his old house, so it’ll just end up in the hands of whoever lives there now.”

“That’s only four letters. Who’s the fifth?” Sirius takes a long sip of his pop.

“Marlene McKinnon.” says Remus after a moment’s hesitation.

Sirius chokes on his drink, and proceeds to alternate between coughing and laughing hysterically.

“Marlene?” he cackles, once he’s finally stopped choking. “My Marlene? Blonde girl, short, mullet, field hockey captain, lesbian. That Marlene?”

“She was the first letter I wrote,” Remus says, “and she—stop laughing. And she was very open about being a lesbian, and I was… y’know.” Even though Remus is sure his friends and family all know, somehow, he’s never said the words ‘I’m gay’ outloud to anyone, and he can’t bring himself to say it even now.

“I was in denial about it, and I thought she was really cool but I was too scared to talk to her, so I convinced myself I was attracted to her, and that’s why I didn’t have any interest in the other girls. So this way I had a crush on a girl, and a valid reason not to approach her. Y’know, since she’s a lesbian.”

“That’s hilarious,” Sirius pretends to wipe tears from his eyes, “I’ve never been happier in my life.” Suddenly, Sirius’ demeanor shifts. “Did she get her letter too?”

“I assume so,” Remus shrugs, “I don’t know how the letters got out, but I can’t find any of them. And since you and Fabian got yours, that means Marlene’s probably got hers.”

“Oh.” Sirius bites his lip nervously, and Remus frowns.

“What is it?” He asks.

Sirius taps his fingers against the table, wearing a pensive expression before he seems to decide on something. He sighs and looks up at Remus.

“You know how Barty and I were dating?”

Oh, Remus knows. Sirius Black and Barty Crouch Jr. were perhaps their school’s most long-lasting couple—if all their breakups didn’t count, at least. They’d date for a few months, get into an explosive argument, break up, start shagging random people, getting into an explosive argument, and then get back together in a matter of weeks. They’d never been broken up for longer than six weeks. Rinse and repeat.

Two years ago, Romulus had caught them snogging on the bonnet of his car, and ever since then, he’s had a personal vendetta against the two.

“Yeah, I know a bit about that.” Remus says.

“Right, well, Barty’s a bit of a possessive person and he went insane when he heard you kissed me, especially seeing as he and I just broke up not too long ago.”

“He’s not going to… stab me or anything. Right?” Said Remus, nervously.

“No, why would he—nevermind. Look, I have a proposal for you.” Sirius says. “You want to get Fabian off your back, right? Unless, wait, are you planning on dating him if—”

“No,” Remus bursts out, “no, never. I could never do that to Lily.”

“Does Evans know? About you fancying her ex?”

“No,” Remus groans, “she doesn’t even know about the letters. No one did, until two weeks ago.”

“So… she has no idea that you have a thing for Prewett?” Sirius said slowly.

“Had,” Remus corrects, “and no, she doesn’t. And she can’t find out, so don’t tell her.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sirius waves his hand. “Secret’s safe with me. Anyways, the reason I called you out here is because I think we could be of use to each other.”

“I don’t really like how that sounds.”

“No, listen,” Sirius says. “You need to hide your little crush on Prewett, and I need Barty to keep freaking out the way he is, so…” he trails off and looks at Remus expectantly.

“I have no idea where you’re going with this.” He says honestly.

“You’re killing me, Lupin,” Sirius groans, “I’m saying you and I should date—”

“Absolutely not—”

“Not for real,” Sirius scoffs, “You’re not my type. I’m saying we fake it for a bit. Fabian’ll believe you’re over him and won’t hassle you about it, you get to keep your friendship with Evans, and it’ll drive Barty nuts, so he’ll come crawling back to me soon enough.”

“Barty doesn’t seem the type to come crawling back to anyone.”

“Maybe not crawling,” Sirius agrees, “but you get what I’m saying.”

“I get that this is quite possibly the stupidest idea anybody has ever had.”

“I think it’s pretty sound.” Sirius protests.

“It’s bollocks,” Remus scoffs, “I’m not crossing Barty Crouch, I’ll wake up with all my teeth missing and my organs rearranged—stop making that face, that was not an innuendo.”

Sirius—who’d been wiggling his eyebrows just a moment ago—pouts. “Oh come on, Lupin, work with me here.”

“I have no reason to.” Remus takes a sip of his hot chocolate, which is more lukewarm by this point. “It’ll just over complicate the situation.”

“You already over complicated the situation,” Sirius points an accusing chip at Remus, “when you kissed me in front of all those other students. How’re you going to explain that to Prewett? To Evans?”

Goddamn it.

“I’ll figure something out.” Remus insists. “Just not this. This is stupid.”

“Are you sure,” Sirius grins, “you could come to all my swim meets and cheer me on. You know, like a supportive boyfriend.”

Remus snorts and pretends hearing himself being referred to as someone’s boyfriend doesn't give him a strange sort of thrill. “Yeah, and you could come to my house for our weekly movie nights.”

“Would I get to pick the film?”

Remus considers. “We take turns, so you could on the fifth night.”

“My place doesn’t really have a movie night equivalent.” Sirius pauses, considering. “Wait, my uncle Alphard makes lasagna and homemade garlic bread once a month. You could come over for that.”

“Lasagna?” Remus raises a brow.

“It’s good lasagna.” Sirius defends.

Remus laughs. “My turn, right?” He asks, and Sirius nods.

“You could…” he trails off, thinking, “be my guinea pig. Whenever I bake something new, you could be the first to try it. Quality control, or something.”

“You bake?”

“Yeah,” Remus nods, “my mom really liked it and then Lily had a phase and made me do it with her. She got bored of it but I liked it so I just kept doing it.”

“The only thing I know how to make is pasta and ramen.” Sirius says. “Oh, I could drive you around on my motorcycle.”

“Sixteen year olds aren't allowed to carry passengers.”

“I’m seventeen. Started school later, so I’m a year older than you guys.”

“Huh,” Remus says, “well, I find motorcycles terrifying so I won’t be doing that. But if you really want to be a good boyfriend, you’d drive me and my brother to school.”

“You don’t have a license?”

“I do, I just don’t like driving.”

“Weird,” Sirius says, “I wouldn’t mind though. Oh, you could come with me to get a piercing.”

“Absolutely not. You could come with me to get a haircut.”

Sirius gasps dramatically and grabs at his wavy shoulder length hair he’s got tied up in a half-bun. “I want a divorce.”

“How much do I get in alimony?” Remus grabs a chip from Sirius’ plate

“Nothing.” Sirius takes a spare fork and stabs at a piece of Remus’ pancakes. “I covered that in the prenup.”

“You made me sign a prenup?” Remus asks, fake-scandalized.

“Yup.” Sirius pops the pancake in his mouth.

“Do I get the house?”

“Prenup.”

“The savings?”

“Prenup.”

“The kids?”

Sirius holds up his left hand, as if he were showing off a wedding band. “Prenup.” he sings, wiggling his fingers.

“You’re an awful hypothetical husband.”

“I’m a rich hypothetical husband,” Sirius corrects, “it’s how we keep all our money. Generational wealth, and what have you.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you wear that leather jacket everyday?”

“I don’t?”

“When I saw you over the summer you were wearing it.”

“That was a different leather jacket.”

“... I want a divorce.”

Sirius cackles and Remus—maybe because the lack of sleep is getting to him—starts laughing with him. They get a few odd looks from the other patrons but Remus doesn’t mind. Eventually, when their laughter dies down, and they’ve spent a few minutes silently picking at their food, Sirius broaches the topic again.

“I think it’d work,” Sirius says, “I mean, it’s the fastests way to get Prewett off your back, and Barty back on mine.”

“That’s disgusting, don’t ever say those words to me again.”

“Really though,” Sirius continues, “we spend a while hanging out, you get to bask in my beauty—”

Remus snorts.

“—Prewett will leave you alone, Barty will be jealous, and Evans won’t have to know a thing. Then it’s over, and we can go about our lives as if nothing happened at all. And you get to save face, because if we’re not together, people are gonna think that you kissing me is kind of a weird thing to do.”

“How would we even go about this,” Remus sighs, “I mean, it’s not like there’s a precedent for this kind of stuff. What are the rules?”

“Whatever we want the rules to be,” Sirius says, “wait hold on.” He grabs his bag and rummages through it before he finds a crumpled sheet of paper and a pen.

He smooths out the sheet and scribbles something over the top, before slipping it over to show it to Remus. He’s titled the paper Rules for S.B. + R.L.

“Why’d you use our initials?”

“So if we lose it nobody can find it and trace it back to us. Now, what would be a rule? Oh, swim meets. Those are mandatory.”

“Driving me and my brother to and from school.” Remus says. “I hate driving.”

Sirius scrawls that down and then says, “Taste testing the stuff you bake.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be my rule?”

“A rule’s a rule, Lupin, doesn’t matter who said it. Oh, and you have to come to parties with me.”

“What?” Remus frowns. “No, I hate parties.”

“You’d have to come to at least one.”

“Fine, but then you’d have to come to movie nights. And actually watch them.”

“You’d have to come to lasagna nights.” Sirius looks up and tilts his head. “I feel like we’re just restating everything we just said. What else is there?”

And Remus will admit to himself, months later, that this was his first real mistake. It wasn’t the lies, or the secrecy, or meeting Sirius’ friends, or the ski trip, it wasn’t even coming here or writing the letters in the first place. It was this moment, where everything in his life was still just a hypothetical, and he allowed himself to indulge in his fantasies. He’d written so many love letters, he wanted to at least imagine what it would feel like to receive one.

“You’d have to write me a note,” Remus says, “every morning.”

“Like… a full on letter?” Sirius asks.

“No, just a small note.”

“Would a text be fine?”

“No,” Remus rolled his eyes, “a text wouldn’t be fine.”

Sirius shrugs, but jots it down. He hands Remus the paper once he’s done, there’s little stars doodled all over the page, and it reads:

Rules for S.B. + R.L.
Swim meets are mandatory
Drive to and from school
Guinea pig for baking
Parties
Movie nights
Lasagna nights
Notes
NEVER TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS

“Should we sign it,” Sirius twiddles with the pen, “make it official?”

“This is not official” Remus laughs, “I never actually agreed to doing this.”

“But we have a contract” Sirius whines, “you can’t back out of the contract.”

“A contract I didn’t sign,” Remus points out, “legally, you have nothing on me.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius groans, throwing his head back against the top of his seat. Remus spots a reddish-brown star—what is it with this guy and stars?—on the side of his neck, just a little above his collarbone.

“Is that a tattoo?” Remus frowns.

“What?” Sirius straightens his head to look at him, still slumped in his seat.

“On your neck.” Remus points to his own, mirroring where the mark is on Sirius. “You’re not old enough for a tattoo.”

“Oh, no,” Sirius sits up, “this is mehndi.”

“What?”

“Henna,” Sirius explains, “James did it.”

“James knows how to do henna?”

“Not really,” Sirius shrugs, “I mean he can do a few basic things, since Effy taught him. He’s pretty shite at it though.”

“Who’s Effy?” Remus asks. “Wait, sorry, if I’m being invasive—”

“You’re fine,” Sirius says, “Effy is James’ mom.”

“You call his mom Effy?” Remus squints at him.

“That’s what she wants to be called.”

“You and James must be really close,” Remus says, “I mean, just based on what I’ve noticed.”

“Aww, Lupin,” Sirius crooned, “you notice me?”

“I hate you,” said Remus flatly.

“No, you don’t,” Sirius grinned, “you love me mad, said so yourself.”

“I did not,” Remus groans, “I wish I never wrote those stupid letters.”

“Why did you write those letters anyway?” Sirius asks with a tilt of his head. “You said you weren’t planning on sending them.”

“I don’t know,” Remus sighs, “it’s just something my dad used to do for my mom.”

“Oh, God,” croaked Sirius, “it’s genetic.”

“Shut up,” Remus smiled, “it’s sweet.”

“It’s corny.”

“It’s standard couple stuff,” Remus said, “didn’t you and Barty do stuff like that?”

Sirius scrunched up his face, “Who are you talking to?”

“Stupid question,” Remus amended, “what did you guys do then?”

Sirius’ mouth turned up at the corners. “Do you really wanna know?”

“I regret having asked you that,” Remus grimaced, “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“We’d hang out a lot,” Sirius explained, “watch movies, get food, sneak off for a fag. None of the corny film love stuff you’re talking about. Neither of us is really into that.”

“But then… what's the point of dating?” Remus questioned. “You could do all that stuff with your friends.”

“I’m not shagging my friends, am I?” scowled Sirius.

“Are you serious?” he grimaced.

“Yes.” Sirius said, but it was lacking all of his usual humour. His face was blank, and his shoulders were tense. Remus didn’t notice.

“No,” Remus groaned, “I mean, are you actually telling me that’s all there is to yours and Barty’s relationship?”

“Basically.” Sirius grunted, “I don’t think it’s really any concern of yours, though.”

“No, but I guess I’m just wondering why you’d even date him—”

“Now you’re being invasive.” Sirius snapped, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not grilling you on why you fancy Prewett, am I? Drop it, Lupin.”

Remus’ jaw went slack, and he reddened. “Sorry.” he whispered, eyes cast down on the table.

“It’s fine,” Sirius says, in a tone that indicates it is very clearly not fine. “It’s getting late, we should leave.”

“Yeah,” Remus nods, “we should.”

They gather up their dishes in a stack and wipe down the table in a tense silence. Sirius leaves £20 for the waitress. When they get outside, Remus bids Sirius goodbye and starts to make his way down the pavement, before Sirius grabs his arm.

“Car park’s the other way.” He says.

“I didn’t bring a car,” Remus explains, “I walked.”

Sirius looks Remus up and down, scans their surroundings, and sighs. “C’mon,” he says, “I’ll give you a ride.”

“You don’t have to,” Remus says.

“It’s pitch black and you don’t even have a coat.”

“It’s fine. I can walk, and I know that I like, made you uncomfortable back there, and I’m sorry, and you probably don’t want—”

“Lupin,” Sirius snapped, “just shut up and get in the car.”

Remus doesn't know a lot about cars, but he can tell three things about Sirius’ car right off the bat: it’s black, it looks vintage, and it probably costs more than Remus’ entire house. The drive is mostly silent, save for Sirius’ phone occasionally calling out directions. Sirius drives with his right hand on the steering wheel, and his left resting on the centre console

Remus spends the entire ride sitting stockstill in fear of breaking something. It’s not a long drive by any means, only taking them four minutes before Sirius is pulling up in front of his house, but it’s the longest four minutes of Remus’ life.

It’s only when Remus notices all the lights shut off that he remembers he didn’t grab a key. He checks his phone, and the screen and displays a bright 1:24. Everybody in his house is fast asleep by now, and Remus bites his lip. A few weeks ago, he would’ve texted Lily or Fabian to see if either of them were awake, and just crashed at their house for the night but that’s not plausible. His father and Roman are both heavy sleepers, but maybe if Remus rings one of them they'll wake up.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asks, and Remus jumps, having forgotten he was there.

“Nothing.” Remus shakes his head, and unbuckles his seat belt. “Thanks for the ride.”

Sirius frowns. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

“You don’t have to.” Remus insisted, climbing out of the car. “It’s only like, ten steps.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees, “it’s only ten steps. So it doesn’t matter.” Remus figures there’s no point in arguing, so he lets Sirius follow him up the stairs, and to the main entrance of his home.

“Well, then,” Remus gestures in front of him. “We’re here. At my door. So you should get going now. It’s late” Remus has his phone open to Roman’s contact, thumb hovering over the call button.

“Aren’t you gonna let yourself in first?” Sirius looks from Remus, to the phone in his hand, to the door, and back to Remus.

“I am,” Remus admits, “I just… didn’t take a key with me, so I have to call my brother to come open the door.”

“Why didn’t you take a key?” Sirius’ forehead creased in confusion.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t think I’d be out so late,” Remus snapped, “stop interrogating me, I need to call my brother.”

His phone barely rings before Roman picks up.

“Hello?” His voice came through suspiciously clear from someone who should’ve been sleeping not two minutes ago.

“Can you come open the door for me?” Remus asks.

“Yeah, sure, one second.”

“He’s on his way down,” Remusa informs Sirius, “so you can go now.”

Sirius doesn’t leave, he stands there shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you—”

“It’s fine, I don’t care—”

“And about the whole dating thing,” Sirius continues, “I know you think it’s dumb, but would you at least take the weekend to think about it?” He stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets and leans against the wall of Remus’ house.

“Of course.” There’s no way Remus is going to ‘consider’ it. Dating Sirius Black—no matter how fictitious—is tantamount to driving a car blindfolded. Sure, he could do it, but he’d much rather keep all his limbs intact.

“If it helps,” Sirius starts to grin, “if you and I were dating, you wouldn't have to jump me whenever you wanted to snog me. You could just ask.”

“I didn’t jump you.” Remus protests, face flushing.

“Yes, you did.” Sirius exclaims, stepping closer to Remus. “You came right up to me, apologized, and you grabbed my face like this.” He grabs Remus’ face in his hands and yanks him forward until there’s only an inch or so of space between them. “And then you kissed me. What would you call that?”

“...Not jumping.” Replies Remus weakly.

Sirius snorts, and drops his hands to Remus’ shoulders, interlocking his fingers behind his neck. “Not jumping?”

“No.” Remus looks down so he doesn't have to stare directly at Sirius, and notices the slider of his jacket is in the shape of a star. He grabs it before he can think better of it. “What is with you and stars?”

“I’m named after one,” Sirius says with mirth, “so are most of the people in my family.”

“Yeah, I know, but this is excessive.”

“It’s not excessive, it’s branding.”

“You’re not a brand.”

A sudden noise startles the both of them, they jump and on instinct—and he has no idea why this is his instinct— Remus’ hands fly from the slider to Sirius’ waist. Sirius moves closer to Remus (or Remus pulls him in closer, it doesn’t matter, the details aren’t important) and they snap their heads to the side.

Remus’ front door opens to reveal Roman standing there. He takes one look at them, and freezes before his jaw drops and his face twists in disgust. “Oh, gross,” he exclaims, “next time, I’m leaving you outside.”

Sirius laughs and steps away from Remus, who quickly drops his hands to his side. “Well, I guess that’s my cue. See you later, Lupin, Lupin junior.” He nods at Roman and then pauses and frowns, before he looks back at Remus. “No, you’re technically Lupin junior, so he’s… Lupin junior junior? Junior squared?”

“Junior cubed,” Remus quips, “I have an older brother.”

“Is this how you guys flirt?” Roman fake-gags.

“I love this kid.” Sirius says.

“You can take him if you want.” Remus replies, pushing Roman—who’s still pretending to throw up—back into the house. “Bye!” Remus yells, before shutting the door.

He turns around and sees Roman bent over, clutching at his stomach and making vomiting sounds.

“I think I’m dying.” Roman gasps.

“Die a bit quieter,” Remus responded, thwacking him upside the head. He slips off his trainers and pushes them to the side.

“Rude.” Roman scowled, rubbing at his scalp. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What do you want?” Remus sighs, rubbing at his temple.

“Is Serious your boyfriend now?”

“No,” Remus shrieks, “stop asking me that!”

“Well, why not,” Roman groans, stamping his foot, “you two were just snogging outside our door.”

“We weren’t—I never” Remus sputters, “go to bed. And don’t tell dad about this.”

“Give me 50 quid,” Roman says, “and I won’t.”

“I’m not bribing you.”

“Fine,” Roman huffs, “but the next time you sneak out of the house because you want to snog your not-boyfriend-boyfriend, you can stay outside. And I can’t promise I won’t let this slip to dad. Or Romulus.”

“There will be no next time, and I didn’t sneak out,” Remus says flatly, “now go to bed, and stop bothering me.”

“You go to bed.” Roman grumbles.

Remus can’t sleep. It’s four in the morning, and he can’t sleep. He’d spent the past two hours trying, and then figured if he was awake, he might as well read the letter he wrote to Sirius. It’s been plaguing him for days, and it’s not like him reading it could do anymore damage.

He’s taken the letter out of the envelope—it’s been crumpled while in Sirius’ possession but there’s no tears or smears—and smooths out the paper. It dates back to the beginning of year nine, when they’d been partnered together for an English Literature project—much to the dismay of both Sirius and James, who’d wanted to partner with each other.

Remus remembers being intimidated by Sirius, even back then. He’d always been an arrogant little prick, and made no effort to hide how he saw most people as beneath him and not worth his time. Maybe it was the unattainability of Sirius that drew Remus to him in the first place. Reading the letter’s the only chance he has at figuring it out, so he may as well.

Dear, Sirius Black,

Oh, Remus hates this already.

I wish we never got stuck together for this stupid project. I never really noticed you before that’s not true, everybody noticed you. Everybody noticed you, and I tried hard not to, because you’re mean, and you’re lazy, and you don’t even try to pay attention in any of your subjects, or to anyone around you. It’s like you're incapable of thinking of anybody other than yourself.

Lily thinks you’re a self-centered, arrogant, pampered, rich twat. She says you’re an annoying little rich boy who was born with a silver spatula in his mouth, and the thing is, I believe her, but I still like you. For some godforsaken reason, I still like you.

It’s for the stupidest reason too. Professor McGonagall had taken us down to the library so we could do research, and you were sitting in front of me, looking all bored and angry, and I was too scared to talk to you since I knew you didn’t want to be here, but I had to, for the project.

I was so nervous, I knocked over that stack of books, and your water bottle, and it broke open and spilled all over the pages, and I was panicking, trying to clean it up and apologizing and you just started laughing. And I know I was blushing, and everyone probably thought it’s because I was embarrassed—and I was pretty embarrassed—but it’s actually because I’d seen you laugh before, but this was the first time I had been the one to MAKE you laugh. And even though you were laughing at me, I still liked it.

I would never admit this to your—unfortunately very nice—face. I try not to talk to you at all, but I think that might be worse, because then I just end up imagining what you’re like and I’ve invented this entire character for you that would be just perfect for me, and part of me believes that it’s real. That one day you’ll look over at me and realize we’re soulmates.

I know it’s never going to happen, but I still like to imagine it. I’ve been imaging you a lot recently. I think I could pick out the exact grey of your eyes from memory alone, and I know where all your beauty marks are, and how your hair falls in your face everytime you tilt your head whenever Professor Binns says something really boring—which is all the time for you.

I’ve decided to stop noticing. I know we’ll never speak to each other again once this project’s done, so there’s no point in me getting hung up on you. Not when you’d probably be disgusted if you were to ever read this letter. That’s fine though, because I’ve decided, from here on out, that you disgust me too. You’re a pompous, narcissistic, prat who goes around snogging anything that moves, and you’ll probably have like, a million diseases by the time we’re twenty. With this letter, I’m officially putting whatever feelings I had for you to bed.

Sincerely,
Remus John Lupin

Remus folds his letter carefully, tucks it back into its envelope, and places it on his bedside table. He lays down in his bed, looks up at the ceiling. He covers his face with his pillow and screams.

Remus is willing to admit he’s a self-conscious person, and he knows he sometimes gets in over his own head and imagines things that aren’t there. That being said, he knows he’s not imagining the way the other students are staring at him, and when he thinks their whispers are about him, it’s not just anxiety speaking. He’s suddenly grateful he isn't taking any of the same GCSEs as Lily or Fabian. He should’ve expected it really.

His first lesson is Latin with Professor Babbling. He usually enjoys this subject, but he shares it with Barty Crouch. Remus quietly jots down notes and acts like he doesn't notice Barty looking back at him. When the bell rings, Remus is already packed and he’s the first to bolt out of the room—courtesy of his sit-closest-to-the-door policy.

Greek passes easier, people look at him curiously when he enters, but nothing more than that happens. He files out for break and finds himself breathing easier.

It lasts for all of two seconds.

He exits the classroom to find the corridor filled with kids, talking excitedly and taking advantage of their short twenty five minute break. That’s not what surprises him, it’s spotting a head of red hair in the crowd that captured Remus’ attention. Lily is scanning the crowd of students, a deep frown on her face and Remus knows she’s checking to find him.

He knows he shouldn’t keep avoiding her, but he hasn’t come up with a believable explanation for… anything. He ducks his head down and gently pushes his way through the crowd, the toilets are near his Latin class, so Remus ducks inside before Lily has the chance to spot him.

“What are you doing here?” Remus jumps, and spins around. Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene McKinnon are standing in front of the washbasins. Dorcas eyes him warily and so does Marlene, before her eyes widen in recognition.

“The, um…” Remus gapes, panicking, “the… why are you here?”

“Why are we in the girls’ toilet?” Dorcas enunciates the last part of her sentence very slowly.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t—”

“Hey, Dory,” Marlene says, laying a hand on Dorcas’ shoulder, “why don’t you pop out of here. Give us a minute to chat.”

Dorcas frowns at Marlene, but sighs, relenting. She glares at Remus on her way out, and Remus wonders what he’s done to piss her off so bad, especially seeing as she’s normally been very kind to Remus in the sparse few interactions they’ve had over the years. She knows he ended up in the girls’ loo by accident, right?

“You’ll have to forgive her.” Marlene begins once the door’s shut behind Dorcas. “She’s normally more sociable, though I guess I also wouldn’t be too keen on the bloke who sent my girlfriend a love letter.”

“That wasn’t me.” Remus blurts out.

Marlene blinks at him. “It wasn’t?”

“No,” Remus groans, running his hands down his face, “it was, it’s… complicated.”

“Well,” Marlene shrugs, crossing her arms, “we’ve got about twenty minutes.”

“I don’t actually like you.” Remus begins, and then cringes. “I mean I did—I do, but not… I’m not attracted to you. I was…” Remus hesitates. Yes, the whole school knows he’s kissed Sirius, and yes, he’s already sort of kinda ‘come out’ to Sirius, and yes, Marlene’s a lesbian, but there’s still that half-second of hesitation, a sinking feeling in his gut.

“I don’t really… fancy… girls,” Remus settles on, “and I didn’t want to admit it to myself, and everybody was always talking about their crushes and I felt like I needed to have one. And I thought you were… really cool or whatever.” His face burns, but Marlene nods, smiling encouragingly at him. “I wanted to be your friend, and I just told myself it was a crush, and wrote that letter, so that way… I had a normal crush, and a valid reason not to pursue her. So I could keep telling myself I was… not… y’know what I’m trying to say.”

“Yeah,” Marlene nods, “I do. And it’s alright, y’know, the letter. I’m not mad about it.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope.” Marlene shakes her head. “Lily talks about you a lot, and I’ve seen you around school. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d try to ‘convert’ me, or whatever.”

“Oh, God no,” Remus wrinkles his nose, “I really didn’t mean anything like that. I was never gonna give it to you, I wasn’t even the one who sent them, I don’t know how they got out.”

“What do you mean ‘they'?” Marlene tilts her head curiously.

“I… I might have written more than one letter. And they’re all out now, but I don’t know how.”

Marlene grimaces, before her face smoothes out into a little grin. “Wait, did Sirius get one of these letters?”

Remus flushes. “He… might have.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Marlene cackles, "You wrote Sirius Black a love poem. And then you snogged him in front of half the school.”

“I didn’t,” Remus protests, “there were only a few students around. And it was hardly snogging.”

Marlene, if possible, laughs harder.

“I should’ve gotten you to wingman me,” Marlene gasps, “one little letter and you’ve already got Sirius falling for you. What did you write?”

“I insulted him, mostly.”

“You’re my hero, Lupin.”

Remus snorts. “Could you… did you tell Lily about the letter?”

“No,” said Marlene, sincerely, “I only told Dorcas, since she’s my girlfriend and I thought it’d be wrong not to. But I made her swear not to tell anybody, and I know she wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” Remus nods, biting his lip, “that’s good. Could you… could you please not mention this to Lily? Ever? She doesn’t know—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she grins, “your secret’s safe with me. Though I don’t know why you’re hiding it from her.”

“It’s just… it’s a little embarrassing,” Remus lies. Well, not technically a lie, since it is embarrassing. “Especially since they were never meant to be seen. They were supposed to be just for me, y’know?”

“I get that,” Marlene nods, “do you want your letter back? It’s back in my room, but I could bring it for you tomorrow.”

On the one hand, Remus doesn’t really want to know what he wrote about Marlene McKinnon in the throes of his denial. On the other hand, he doesn’t really want Marlene to keep it. He wants all his letters back in their box. Or burned.

“Sure, yeah” Remus agrees, “that would be great.”

“Great,” Marlene claps her hands, “well, I’ll go clear things up with Dorcas, then. Oh, by the way.” Marlene pauses at the door and turns to Remus. “I don’t really know what’s going on with you and Sirius, but if you two did start dating, we could hang out. I mean we still can,” Marlene adds, “any friend of Lily’s is a friend of mine, but… I don't know. I think it’d be good for him.”

Remus nods and waves her goodbye. The idea of speaking with Marlene more is tempting, but like hell is he going to take Sirius up on his offer. He exits the girls’ loo and manages to avoid Lily for the last ten minutes of break, before he has to go to history. Which, as he’d forgotten, he also has with Barty Crouch.

It passes much of the same as Latin, with Remus taking his notes and pretending like he can’t sense Barty staring at him. The problem with history though, is that Professor Binns is just so boring. Remus doesn't know how old he is, but it’s long past time for the poor sod to retire.

He looks up near the end of class and accidentally locks eyes with Barty. He looks him up and down, and then grins wolfishly, and Remus feels much like a lamb caught in a trap. Barty scoffs at him and turns back in his seat, and Remus bolts once the bell’s rung.

He’s got English Literature right after with Sirius. They sit in their old spots, with Sirius in the front and Remus in the back, and his classmates keep looking between the two of them. He’s a bit too slow this time, and Sirius manages to catch him by his arm, right before he can leave through the door.

“Have you thought about what I said?” Sirius grinned. He kept his voice low so as not to be overheard by the other students, who were all whispering and staring at them.

“Yes,” Remus whispered, smiling back at him, “and the answer’s still no.”

“Don’t be hasty, Lupin.”

“I’m not,” Remus says, “Crouch’s been glaring at me all day. I’m considering witness protection.”

“You didn’t witness a crime.”

“Your atrocious fashion sense.”

“How dare you—”

“Aren’t you all due for lunch?” Professor McGonagall’s voice cuts through the near silence of the room. She observes the room with a level gaze and the other students look down guiltily.

“Sorry, Minnie,” Sirius calls, grabbing Remus’ hand in his. “We’ll be going now.” He presses a quick kiss to Remus’ cheek and then drags him out of the room before Remus can protest.

“Why’d you do that?” Remus sputters as Sirius leads them down the hallway.

“Everybody was expecting it,” Sirius shrugs.

“I don’t care what they were expecting,” Remus groans, “I want them to expect nothing.”

“Yeah, but this is more fun.” Sirius grins. He starts to maneuver them around the crowd of students, rushing through the corridors.

“Have you ever been told the word ‘no’ before,” Remus asks, “like, even once? In your whole life?”

“Not really, why?”

“It’s evident.”

“Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this.”

“I’m not.” Remus huffs.

“Then why are you still holding my hand?”

“It didn’t occur to me to drop it.”

“You’re still holding it though.”

“Stop bothering me.”

“Drop my hand.”

“Once we’re away from all these students, I will.”

Sirius hums, and the two lapse into silence. He leads Remus down three flights of stairs and into the canteen. He leads them to the middle of the room before stopping. Remus can see Sirius’ friends sitting a few tables down. James is grinning at them, and he nudges a boy—Peter—sitting next to him.

“Well, then,” Sirius says, letting go of Remus’ hand, “I’ve got practice after school, so unfortunately, this is where I must bid you adieu. I’m gonna go sit with James and the rest, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“If you kiss me again I’ll kill you.”

“Romantic.” Sirius winks at him, and then turns away to go join his friends. Remus stares after him, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Last year, he’d sit with Lily or Fabian, but last year they were dating and not… whatever they were now. Maybe he should just wait it out in the library. He’s not really that hungry anyways.

“There you are.” snapped an angry voice. A familiar angry voice. Maybe if Remus stands very still, she’ll stop seeing him.

“Remus John Lupin.” a hand wraps around his elbow and starts yanking him away. “I won’t have you ignoring me anymore.” Lily fumes.

She drags him to a table in the corner, on the other side of the room from where Sirius and his lot sit—not that it matters, but Remus feels like this was intentional—and Fabian is sitting there expectantly. Okay. So they have spoken.

Remus sits on one side of the table whilst Lily and Fabian sit on the either. He wonders if they’re gonna pull a whole good-cop-bad-cop shtick.

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Lily begins, expression stern, “why?”

“I was sick.”

“That’s a load of shite.” Lily said. “You weren’t too sick to respond to our messages, I know that. And Fabian saw you going for a walk at eleven at night. Usually you’re in bed by then, but I guess being sick makes you require less sleep.”

“Thanks, Fabe.” Remus glares at him. “Nice to know you have my back.”

“You never said I couldn’t tell Lily about that—”

“Have your back against what?!”

“—besides, we’re worried about you.”

“You don’t need to be,” Remus insists, “Look, I… I was sick, at first. And then I wanted to give you some space to figure out whatever’s going on between you two. I didn’t know where we all stood and I didn’t want to get caught in the middle of it.”

“But you weren’t giving us space,” Lily said, “you were ignoring us entirely. That’s an entirely different thing.”

“So I went a little overboard,” Remis admits sheepishly, “I guess I just thought that… if I wasn’t talking to either of you, you’d be forced to talk to each other.”

“What about this thing with you and Black?” Fabian’s arms are crossed, and his face is unreadable, but Remus picks up something in his tone—either disgust or anger, he’s not sure.

“There’s no thing with me and Black,” Remus says carefully, “just a few rumours that’ve spiraled out of control.”

“Would you stop lying to me?!” Lily spat. “I asked Sirius himself, and he told me you two have been talking for a while now. Now you two walk in here hand and hand—”

“I hold hands with a lot of people.” Remus defends.

“Are you—” Lily cuts herself off and shrieks into her hands. She looks up at Remus, glaring. “Did you kiss him? Our first day back, did you or did you not kiss him?”

Remus hesitates, it’s only for a second but it’s all Lily needs for confirmation.

“I knew it!” she slams her hands down on the table. “You’ve been running around with Sirius Black and lying about it—”

“It’s not like that,” Remus cried, “it was just… it was a heat of the moment thing and I—”

“—I had to find out from Potter of all people.”

“Lily, it’s nothing! Alright, believe me,” he pleaded, “Sirius was just… I made a stupid mistake, it didn’t mean anything—”

“Except it did,” Lily hissed, “I mean, clearly Sirius thinks you two have something. The whole school does too. You’re my best friend, and I had to find out through the grapevine, and I couldn’t even ask you about it because you wouldn’t talk to me for a fortnight.”

“Lily,” Fabian interjects, “I think maybe you should lay off him a bit.”

“Stay out of this—”

“No, listen,” Fabian continues, “I get that you’re upset because of the whole, avoidance and the secrets and whatever but maybe it… you know how Remus is. This could honestly be more Sirius’ doing than anything.”

Remus frowns. “What do you mean ‘how I am’?”

“Sirius is an arse,” Lily says, “and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Right,” Remus nods, but he’s not really paying attention to Lily anymore. He looks at Fabian. “So?” he asks. “How am I?”

“You know what I mean,” Fabian said, “Sirius is… I mean, I’m sure he's shagged a lot of people, but his only real relationship has been Barty.”

“That’s not true.” Remus mumbled. “He and Emmeline Vance were going pretty strong for a while.” It’s not that he particularly liked Sirius or anything, he just didn’t think he was quite as…shallow as Fabian was making him out to be.

“Yeah, until he finally shagged her, and then he went right back to Barty.” Fabian scoffed. “You’re not like that.”

“Like what?” Remus snapped. “You keep saying how I’m ‘not like that’ and that’s ‘not how I am’, but you won’t explain what you mean by that.”

“Sirius is… it’s what Lily said he’s an arse—”

“I’m not asking about Sirius,” Remus glowered, “I’m asking about me.”

“I’m getting there,” Fabian said, “he’s an arse who’s shagged nearly everyone in our year, and you’ve never even held hands with someone.”

“No, but I’ve kissed someone.” Remus pointed out.

“Who, Sirius? That doesn’t count—”

“Of course it counts,” Remus snaps, “why wouldn’t it count?”

“Remus, come on,” Fabian hissed, “you’re like… you’re this hopeless romantic, you care about this stuff, and Sirius doesn’t. You think because he like, I don’t know, said a few nice words and charmed you—”

“Maybe I charmed him,” Remus said pointedly, “seeing as I’m the one who kissed him, and I’m the one who… started the whole thing.”

Lily’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you—”

“Remus, he is not going to date you,” Fabian barked, “he’ll lead you on for a bit, and you won’t even know—”

“I’m not that naive,” Remus growls, “I can tell when someone’s playing me, and that isn’t what Sirius is doing.”

“Do you actually believe Sirius likes you?” Fabian asks incredulously, “I mean, what’s your next lesson?”

“Fabian,” Lily gasps, “stop.”

Do you actually believe Sirius likes you

“Food preparation and nutrition,” Remus says, tone even. “Why?”

“This is what I’m talking about,” Fabian exclaims, “you’re—you’re quiet and reserved, and you bake, and you read old books, and you wear jumpers only granddads like. Sirius wouldn’t—”

“Sirius is in English Literature with me.”

“Remus, he would get bored of you in two weeks.”

“Fabian, shut up,” Lily hisses, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No,” Fabian snaps, “he needs to hear this—”

“Just because you couldn’t fathom anyone being interested in me, doesn’t mean nobody is.” Remus stood up, his chair scratching against the floor. “Sirius doesn’t think I’m boring—”

“I didn’t say you were boring,” Fabian protested.

“—and I’m sorry if you don’t think I’m up to his standards, but if Sirius had a problem with me—.”

“Remus, I don’t care about Sirius,” Lily pleads, “Fabian’s being a git but—”

“—he wouldn’t have asked me out,” Remus states. “And I wouldn’t have said yes!” and he turns and walks out of the canteen before the full weight of what he just said can hit him.

It’s only the first month of the semester, which means the students aren’t actually allowed to handle any food. They’re just reviewing the same safety procedures Remus already knows, which serves him just fine. Halfway into his class, the reality of what he’d just done hits him full force and he wouldn’t have been able to focus on the lesson anyways.

It’s stupid. It’s quite possibly the stupidest thing Remus has ever done, and no matter what angle he views it from, he can’t see any way out. If he tells Fabian and Lily he lied about Sirius asking him out, Fabian wins. If he tells them it didn’t turn out well, Fabian still wins.

There’s only one option that grants Remus a victory—temporary as it would be—and it’s the one he’s been avoiding all this time. The bell rings, and his classmates start packing up to go home. Remus isn’t gonna make this situation more complicated than it needs to be, not when it’s already spiraled so far out of his control. He’ll tell Fabian and Lily he lied, deal with the pitying looks for a few weeks and go about his life.

Remus, he would get bored of you in two weeks.

Remus clenches his jaw, his hand tightening around the strap of his schoolbag. He’s made his decision, and, he decides as he exits the empty classroom, he’s going to stick by it.

Hogwarts has a rather large pool—about the size of a small lake—that Remus hasn’t stepped foot near since before summer. The entire room smells strongly of chlorine and the floor is almost always sopping wet. The swim team is in there right now, some of them are doing warm up laps in the pool while others are still dry. It’s deafeningly loud in here and Remus can’t even hear himself think.

Hogwarts’ swim team is one of, if not the best in all of England, and most of their success can be attributed to Sirius. Remus spots him making laps in the pool, a red swimming cap covering his hair. Remus knows Sirius must hate having to wear it. Remus gets as close to the pool as he can, without risking falling in.

He tries calling out, but Sirius doesn’t hear him. To be fair, Remus can’t even hear himself. He waits until Sirius swims directly in front of him and yells “Sirius!” at the top of his lungs.

Sirius freezes and so do most of his teammates. The room grows a little quieter and Remus turns red as the other boys turn to look at him, his voice echoing off the walls.

Sirius swims to the edge of the pool, treading water. “What is it?” he asks.

“Can I talk to you?”

Sirius nods, climbing out of the pool. He and Remus walk a little to the room’s edge, although it gives Remus no illusion of privacy—Sirius’ teammates are doing a not-so subtle job of watching them.

“What is it, why’re you here?”

“Remember your whole fake dating idea?” Remus shifts from foot to foot.

“Yeah?” Sirius starts grinning, like he already knows where this is going. Remus almost turns around right then and there to avoid giving him the satisfaction. Almost.

“I changed my mind,” Remus says, “I’ll date you.”

“What convinced you?” Sirius chirps. “My striking good looks? My charming personality?”

Remus hesitates, but then remembers the stupid letter he wrote Sirius and realizes nothing he says or does could possibly be more embarrassing than that.

“Fabian and I got into a spat,” Remus explains, “he thinks you’re leading me on. Says you’d never be interested in me because I’m too boring. He thinks you’ll get tired of me after two weeks. I want to prove him wrong. Give him something new to talk about.”

Sirius looks Remus up and down, as if assessing him. Remus looks away, turning red under the heat of his gaze.

“Alright.” Sirius steps closer to Remus, he grabs Remus’ tie in one hand, his voice is so low, Remus wouldn’t have been able to hear him if they weren’t so close. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

He pulls Remus down by his tie, and hesitates for just a fraction of a second, before crashing their lips together. Remus is running on autopilot, his hands come up to Sirius’ waist and pulls him in closer. He shuts his eyes—because he’s pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do—and the sounds of the pool all fade away, when all Remus can hear is his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He can’t help but compare this to last time.

Sirius tastes like chlorine, and Remus can’t smell a hint of vanilla on him anymore, but his lips are as soft as ever. Their mouths slide together like its habit, and when Sirius pulls back—just an inch—Remus chases after him. He moves one hand up to Sirius’ back, and the other wraps around his entire waist, until they’re flush against each other. The front of Remus’ shirt is damp from Sirius’ chest, and he gasps at the sudden cold of it. Sirius takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue over the roof of Remus’ mouth.

A shrill whistle cuts through the room, and Remus and Sirius stop kissing and turn in the direction of the noise, though they make no move to step away from each other. A few of Sirius’ teammates try to act as though they hadn’t been staring. Most of them are jeering and wolf-whistling at them. Madam Hooch stares at them unimpressed, whistle dangling from her hand.

Remus, who’d forgotten they were there, turns as red as his tie.

“I’d thank you to keep your private affairs private, Mr. Black,” she says, “this is a closed practice. Not your house.”

“Sorry, coach.” Sirius calls, before turning to Sirius. His lips are red and swollen, and his pale skin is flushed red. Remus doesn’t imagine he looks much better. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Yeah,” Remus nods, his voice coming out quiet and hoarse, “that sounds good. I should leave.”

“Wait.” Sirius grabs Remus’ tie and turns her around before he can leave. He kisses Remus again, just a short peck this time. “For luck,” he says.

“Can I have a bit of luck too, Black?” calls out one of his teammates. Remus ducks his head in embarrassment.

“Shut up.” Sirius rolls his eyes.

Remus looks at the rest of the swim team, staring at him and Sirius in a mix of shock and amusement. “Gentleman,” he says, giving them a two-fingered salute, “as you were.”

Oh, god, Remus cringes, why did I salute?

He doesn’t run out of the pool. He power-walks. It’s a far more dignified thing.