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It was a running joke at first – when was Sirius’ birthday? It had come about after Peter’s birthday in first year, a few days after the start of school – September 6th, actually. It had raised the inevitable question amongst the bonding first year Gryffindor boys of when was everyone’s birthday. Remus told them it was March 10th; James told them it was March 27th then proceeded to high-five Remus because ‘hell yeah March!’. Sirius remained quiet, a small smile playing on his lips. They pressed him for the date of his own, but Sirius shook his head said it wasn’t a big deal. And it really wasn’t – birthdays weren’t something celebrated in the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black and while Sirius was quickly learning that the Blacks were wrong on about everything, this was one he didn’t find himself bothered by.
James, Remus, and Peter poked and prodded – they tried to weasel the information out of him but Sirius showed all his fortitude, durability, and stubbornness and didn’t give in. They said he couldn’t participate in birthday pranks if he wouldn’t tell them his but that lasted for all of five seconds; they then said that if he wouldn’t tell them his birthday, then everyday was his birthday and he’d been vulnerable to birthday pranks everyday – Sirius just said to bring it on. They didn’t ask the teachers because that would be cheating and it wasn’t like Regulus cared much considering the poison his parent’s had poured into his brain and the fact that he’d grown up under the same philosophy.
Perhaps it remained a game for James and Peter, but it quickly became a frustration for Remus who just wanted to know when his best friend’s (and crush’s but shush) birthday was so that he could give him gifts and tease him about getting older (but not getting taller). At times, Remus was the most relentless of the pranksters when it came to figuring it out, but even he failed too.
He failed in first year. He failed in second year. He failed in third year. He failed in fourth year. He was still too pissed at the others to try in fifth year (well, until they became animagi for him). He failed in sixth year. And he failed in– oh wait.
He didn’t fail in seventh year. He nearly did but nearly is not the same as wholly.
The day started out like any normal one when the full moon was no looming threat; there was a small twinge in Remus’ joints as he awoke to the chaotic sounds of Peter’s pig-like snores, James’ sleep-induced mutterings about his ‘Lily-flower’ and ‘no pig snitch don’t eat amma!’, and Sirius’ crooning voice coming from the shower as he sung the lyrics to some wizard punk ballad. It was half-an-hour past sunup – James and Peter wouldn’t be up for another hour or depending on whether they would want to make it to breakfast and Sirius had probably been up for at least an hour considering he was an early riser. November 3rd was a normal Thursday in the dormroom of the Marauders.
Remus, as always, greeted Sirius when he returned from the shower with a groggy ‘bore da’ as he rubbed his the crusties out of his eyes and stretched his arms before his own morning shower. Sirius would roll his eyes but return his greeting with a ‘good morning’ of his own, knowing that as far as Remus was concerned, it was too early to English.
Remus came back from his shower, much more refreshed and awake, to find Sirius reading – not revising, no, because Sirius’ memory was more solid than diamond, just reading for the joy of it. Remus changed into his uniform robes, a companionable silence lingering between him and Sirius. Once he was changed and had run a comb futilely through his curly, tawny locks, he and Sirius descended the castle in search of breakfast.
They were holding a pleasant conversation about something inconsequential when they reached the Great Hall but that came to an abrupt halt as the two spotted Regulus lingering in the entrance, holding a book to his chest, and waiting. Waiting for Sirius.
Remus knew the wounds from Sirius’ fall-out with his family had yet to heal – they may not have bled anymore, might’ve been scabbed over, but all it would take would be a little roughness and they’d be as good as new again. Four months was enough time for some wounds, but not ones that cut so deeply. Remus let out a sigh, glancing over at Sirius whose lips were pursed tight and who had creases between his eyebrows.
“What do you want Rex?” Sirius asked as they approached; Remus felt almost as on edge as he did the days of the full moon, and that was still twenty-two days away. Remus briefly contemplated grabbing Sirius’ arm and pulling them past Regulus before this confrontation continued, but he could feel Sirius’ steely resolve radiating in waves from him and knew that Sirius wanted to do this. Had to do this.
“I just wanted to say hello to my brother on this fine day – how are you brother?” Regulus responded, his voice sickly sweet and dripping with honeyed poison. Remus had to resist the urge to ball up his fist and sock the little brat.
“I’m fine. Hungry, but fine and if you’ll let us thru I can take care of that.” Sirius’ expression was closed off, but Remus could guess at the hurricane of emotions rolling through Sirius.
“Yes, yes,” said Regulus, clucking his tongue, “I should let you eat. Anh chúc mừng sinh nhật.” Sirius froze in his place at those words; Regulus saw this, smiled, then turned and headed to his table as if Sirius wasn’t breathing through gritted teeth.
Remus didn’t have the slightest idea of what Regulus had said – he spoke Welsh not Vietnamese. Whatever it had been though, it hadn’t been good; if Remus had to guess, he’d guess some sort of insult.
Oh how wrong he was.
After a moment of recovery, Sirius blew off Remus’ questions of concern and continued on as if the encounter with Regulus hadn’t happened. Remus saw him sneaking glances at his brother though, his brother who was smiling and laughing and throwing a sneer Sirius’ way every so often. Sirius refused to speak on the subject though and Remus dropped it; Sirius would go to James when he was ready, he knew. That didn’t combat the anxiety bubbling inside of Remus but it was all he could do. So he marched on and acted as if he hadn’t witnessed the encounter, all through classes and meals and until after James and Peter were once more making fools of themselves in their sleeps.
He saw the light of lumos spilling out of Sirius’ curtains – not a new thing by any stretch of the imagination since Sirius seemed to have no issue getting by on three hours of sleep and regularly did so but it prickled Remus something greatly still. He slipped out of his own bed and padded over to Sirius’, poking his head through the curtains and finding Sirius reading.
“What’ya reading?” Remus asked as he slid into the enclosure. Sirius glanced up and gave Remus a small shrug.
“Just a muggle book,” he responded, flipping it shut and setting it aside. Remus peaked at the covered and noticed that it was in Vietnamese. “What did you need?”
Remus sighed; best be open and up front. “You okay?”
Sirius snorted; “I’m fine. You know Rex – he’s a little shithead. Next week he’ll be clinging to me and saying how much he misses me and needs me and sniffling his little head off. He won’t even remember it tomorrow I bet you.”
The curly-haired boy chewed on his lip, giving Sirius a look of disbelief. “You’ll remember it though.”
“I never forget anything,” Sirius grumbled. “What do those muggles call it again? Aidectic or something?”
“Eidetic memory – you remember.”
Sirius grinned at that, glancing down at his lap and his stifled a chuckle. He pushed back a lock of his long dark hair, pushing it behind his ear before looking back up at Remus. “You wanna know what he said, right?”
“If it’s something you don’t want to repeat, you don’t have to,” Remus replied.
“It’s not anything bad,” Sirius said hurriedly. “He just called me brother and wished me a happy birthday – can’t say I’ve heard the latter from him before, but it isn’t no insult.”
Remus’ jaw dropped. “Happy birthday?” He blinked rapidly.
This time Sirius didn’t stifle his chuckle; he let its warm sound fill the curtains as Remus shook his head exasperatedly.
“Yeah. No telling Jim and Pete, got it? They still gotta guess but Rex sorta let the cat out on that one for you,” he said. Remus snorted in response to that.
“As if – you know I don’t know a lick of Vietnamese. I can’t even pronounce it,” he said, motioning to Sirius’ book. Sirius nodded his head to that, his face threatening to split in half with a wide grin.
“Woe is you Moony; I put up with your aggressive Welshness, even learn a little of it for you, and you can’t even be bothered to learn how to pronounce my language.” Sirius clucked his tongue, but it was all in good humor. “Mm, I could really go for some phở right now though now that you mention.”
“I didn’t mention that devil’s soup,” replied Remus vexedly.
“Woe is Moony again and his poor Welsh palette and sensitive tongue. It’s my birthday – suck it up.”
Remus protested with an indignant cry.
“You didn’t get me a birthday present did you?” Sirius responded, cocking an eyebrow triumphantly. Remus snorted.
“Not fair.”
“Don’t care. Phở now.”
“Hmph.”
Sirius pushed himself away from his headboard, swinging his feet over the side of the bed while Remus pouted behind him. As Sirius stuck his feet into his slippers, an idea struck Remus. Sirius may have been a genius but damnit if Remus wasn’t clever, creative, and cunning.
Sirius turned to look back at his friend and in that second Remus surged forward, pressing his lips against Sirius. Sirius was caught by surprise and Remus took that as opportunity to tangle his hand in Sirius’ silky hair and straddle his lap. Sirius recovered from his shock and returned the kiss, lips parting as they moved against Remus’. After a moment, Remus pulled away; he was slightly flushed and panting, but he wore a blinding grin.
“How’s that for a birthday present?”
Sirius hummed; “good. Definitely good.” Sirius pressed a peck against Remus’ lips before pulling back. “But I still want phở.”
Remus groaned, but when they reached the kitchens, he found it a lot easier to swallow the spicy dish when he was sneaking kisses with Sirius between mouthfuls.