Archive of Our Own

Mr. Moonlight, come again please
Here I am on my knees
Begging if you please
And the night you don't come my way
I'll pray and pray more each day
Cos we love you, Mr. Moonlight

~The Beatles

***

“No Padfoot, I don’t think this is right.” James tugged at the front of the shirt with a grimace. “Surely this can’t be right.”

“It’s right,” Sirius defended. He dragged a hand through his hair, ruffling it in a very James-like manner, though his fell neatly to his shoulders instead of sticking up all over. “Will you just trust me, Prongs? Who’s the expert here?”

“Well, Lily,” James said, even as Sirius let out a giant scoff, crossing his arms petulantly. “But she’s not here and I hardly think spending a few hours with some muggle fashion magazine makes you an expert. I’m not going out there if we look wrong.”

“Christ. I’ve been to muggle clubs, James,” Sirius said. He took a step back with a slight scowl, and kicked his boots on the stoop of their flat. “Muggle clubs, where I fit in perfectly fine, thank you.”

James sighed, then glanced down at his jeans which felt far too constricting. He could not imagine muggle people actually wanted to wear these things all the time. How did their skin breathe? He felt constricted and exposed. And the t-shirt. He was fairly sure Sirius had picked it out for how tight it was. He understood the concept of muggle dress but this seemed a bit…wrong.

“James.” Sirius’ voice was soft, complacent, almost begging in a way. His hand was out, his long-fingers spread wide and just waiting for James’ to slot between them. And of course James could not resist. Never could. Not since the moment Sirius slid into his compartment on the Hogwarts Express and said he liked James’ hair. Not since Sirius confessed he rowed with the sorting hat because family traditions be damned, he couldn’t bear the thought of being in a house away from his mate.

“Oh alright, but I’m telling you if we’re outed and break the Statute of Secrecy…”

“And you get sacked and we’re poor and out on the streets even though you have millions of galleons which will see you and any spawn we choose to raise and even their spawn—for generations…you will have my guts for garters or…something,” Sirius parroted back, tugging James, who was rolling his eyes, into the street.

His trainers made a faint tapping on the pavement as they set out for a coffee before the concert. Sirius had recently become enamoured of muggle music—namely bands where over half the members were dead, so they were forced to attend what Sirius called, “Tribute Bands.” Most weren’t terrible, a fair comparison to the vinyl Sirius played near constantly at home.

But James was exhausted. He’d been in Auror training all week, their final exams coming up, and their jobs on the line, which meant going out for a concert and piss-up was probably the worst idea. But as he had realised before, there was very little that he could say no to when it came to Sirius Black.

Their hands hung between them, Sirius swinging them gently alongside their thighs. James’ knuckles brushed against the soft, fake-leather—“It’s fake, James, what do you take me for, a monster?”—trousers which hugged his arse so tightly, James had trouble restraining himself.

He decided not looking was his best bet, and he focused on feeling Sirius’ hand in his. It was a miracle, he thought, that they made it this far. Sirius with his reckless nature and fear of settling down, and a sort of claustrophobia in a way which left him gasping for air if he thought someone was trying to control him the way his parents had once tried to. James had to sit him down during their seventh year and tell Sirius he did not intend on keeping him like a pet.

“All I want to know is that you love me,” he said, cupping Sirius’ cheeks gently. “If you want to go out and shag other blokes, okay. Girls? Fine. Non-binary folk, have at it. If you want to travel the world for a few months on your own, you have my blessing. Sirius, I love you. I just want you happy. So long as you love me too, that’s all I’m asking for.”

Sirius searched his face for what felt like hours, longing in his eyes, an almost desperation until he came to the conclusion James was telling the truth, and he could have all those things—all that freedom—and James to go with it.

Sirius had a few wild years just out of Hogwarts as James went on to decide what he wanted to do after his NEWTs. He’d come and go, sometimes disappearing for months at a time, though he never failed to answer the mirror. And they had rules, established by the pair of them, rules which were for the safety and comfort of them both. Sirius refused to date if James hadn’t met them first, and had there ever been a second of hesitation, Sirius wouldn’t hesitate to back out. The start was a little rocky as they developed their methods of communication and consent, but their love meant working on it until they were both happy. And they were, but after a few years, Sirius began to settle. Running free and not coming home to their warm bed and James’ arms every night held less and less appeal. Sirius and James both liked the idea of dating someone else, but now they found themselves searching together. They had yet to find anyone, but if it was meant to be, they knew it would happen in its own time. For his part, Sirius was working on finding out where he belonged in the world.

He was working in a muggle tattoo shop as a piercer presently, debating about whether or not he wanted to get into tattooing as his art was amazing, and James knew it wouldn’t take much for him to become almost too-good at it. But he knew better than to pressure his partner into anything.

Sirius was as fluid with what he wanted to do in his life as he was with his gender, and James felt no need to add his influence.

They were happy.

If a bit uncomfortable in the muggle clothes.

They reached the venue and Sirius sighed. The queue was nearly round the building, and although they had badges in their pockets, James could tell Sirius wasn’t overly keen on being mashed between strangers until the doors opened.

“You want to charm our way in?” James asked, very close to Sirius’ ear. “Or we can go get a coffee until the doors open.”

“Coffee. Don’t much fancy you being arrested for improper charms because of a Beatles Cover Band concert,” Sirius replied with a grin, squeezing James’ fingers.

There was a café nearby, and Sirius led the way, slipping through the doors quickly. It was busier than usual, he assumed due to the concert nearby, and James could sense Sirius’ anxiety rising. “Go outside. I’ll get your drink and you can grab us a table where it’s quietest.”

Sirius shot him a profoundly grateful look before slipping back out the doors, and James got into the queue behind a sweet couple who were making moon-eyes at each other. He would have grimaced if only he and Sirius didn’t look that ridiculous nearly all the time.

It was hard to hate on love.

When James reached the counter, he was met by a friendly person with gorgeous twists, tipped blue at the ends. She smiled at James as she took his order. “Concert tonight?” she asked.

James shrugged as he handed over a few muggle notes. “Yeah seems like it. Waiting for the crowds to die down a bit.”

She frowned at the notes. “Erm…”

“Oh. Was it not enough?” He started to fumble for more, hating he hadn’t paid more attention in his muggle studies course.

“No it’s just…” she handed him a pretty one back with a twenty in the corner, then put the other in the cash drawer, handing him back another with a five on it. “Not used to carrying cash?”

“Er. No,” James said, his hand flying to his hair. “I’m obvious?”

“Just a bit.” She offered him a friendly wink, then directed him to the little alcove where the finished drinks would be served. He waited with a handful of other people, cursing Lily for getting Sirius all fixated on this muggle stuff. Not that he minded. Muggles were very nice indeed, but the trouble it took just for a simple coffee…

They were delivered moments later. Not as fast as magic, but quick enough.

He took the steaming paper cups outside and found Sirius near the edge of the seating area. He was tucked into a chair, one leg up and tucked into his chest, his arms holding it lightly. His eyes were closed, and his head was nodding in a rhythm which confused James until he heard faint singing from somewhere down the street.

“Busker?” James asked.

“Think so. He’s doing Beatles songs, so he’s probably capitalising on the concert.” Sirius took his drink and offered his boyfriend a grateful smile. “Sounds nice, yeah?”

James listened for a moment, his head cocked to the side.

“…takes it back to Molly waiting at the door, and as he gives it to her, she begins to sing…”

“Nice voice.”

“We should give him money before we go,” Sirius said, taking a sip of his drink and grinning. “Oh that’s lovely.”

James took some of his own. He’d got a regular coffee, not trusting whatever these people—both white and muggle—called chai would be anything like his mum’s. So he had something called salted caramel latte, and it wasn’t bad, if a bit sweet. “Well we’ll have enough energy at least.”

Sirius’ teeth shone bright over his bottom lip with his smile. “You don’t mind, do you? We don’t have to get too pissed.”

James’ face softened. “Of course not, Padfoot. I love being out with you.”

Sirius shuffled his chair a bit closer. His one leg which was stretched along the ground, twisted round James’ at the ankle and they sat, enjoying their closeness.

“…and any time you feel the pain, hey Jude refrain, don’t carry the world upon your shoulders…”

“Oh I love this one,” Sirius said quietly. He shifted his chair again, so he could put his head on James’ shoulder.

“…and don’t you know that it’s a fool, who plays it cool, by making his world a little colder…”

Sirius turned his head to sing along, “Na na na na na…. na na na naaaa, Hey Jude, don’t let me down, you have found her, now go and get her.”

James joined along, having heard this more times than he could count. “Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better.”

Sirius grinned, turning his face up, and James turned his face down, and their lips met slow and steady, as familiar and perfect as they had ever been.

***

They stayed a bit longer than they intended, and Sirius was devastated when they couldn’t find the busker. “His voice was amazing. This is rubbish.”

“I think,” James said softly, tugging Sirius toward the entrance to the venue, “it just wasn’t meant to be.”

Sirius humphed, but let James lead the way inside, and they went straight for the bar to get a couple pints. The place was busy, but not as packed as the queue made it seem. It was enough for them to enjoy it, but to assure Sirius wouldn’t be too overwhelmed with the presence of so many bodies in one space.

Still, they kept to the fringes of the crowd, an exit in mind for Sirius at all times. James kept Sirius to his front, as he always did in situations like this, his hands heavy like a ballast on his hips. Sirius held both their drinks so James could keep a firm grip, and lifted the pint every so often until James finished it.

There was a small opening band, not bad but not great, before the main show began.

“And a warm welcome to Broken Wings!” the announcer said.

The lights went down, and there was a twanging strum on a guitar. When the lights flared up again, three men on bass and guitars, and one on drums, appeared. “It’s been a hard day’s night, and I’ve been working, like a dog,” the one who was meant to be Paul began to croon.

They were decent looking, James noticed, though a bit modern for a Beatles cover band. They were a bit non-descript, except for the one Sirius had his eye on. It was like an immediate draw, to be honest. He was on the guitar, singing the chorus into the mic. He was taller than the lead singer, though shorter than the bassist, and he had wild, dark-tawny curls, dark olive skin, a large nose, and an overbite which touched his bottom lip when he smiled. He was wearing ripped jeans and a frilly sort of shirt, the only one who even bothered to look the part. When he lifted his arm up to run his hand through his hair, James caught a glimpse of a tattoo, but he couldn’t quite make it out.

“You like him,” James said into Sirius’ ear.

His lover merely shrugged and continued to dance and sing along with the music.

The show was winding down, and the lights dimmed just before the one Sirius liked best came to the mic. The others had put their instruments down, and the spotlight went on him. James could feel Sirius take in a breath, and James didn’t blame him. The bloke was far too good looking for his own good, and had a sort of magnetism James didn’t totally understand. But he did understand why there were several, swooning people near the front of the stage, hoping to get noticed.

Then his fingers began to strum, the others flying over the fretboard. He leant into the mic. “Blackbird singing in the dead of night,” he crooned.

Sirius immediately turned. “It’s him. The busker.”

James frowned, staring up at him.

“…take these broken wings and learn to fly, all your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise.”

“It can’t be,” James said. “Why would the singer in this band be busking?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said, clearly distressed, “but it is. I swear. We listened to him for an hour, Prongs.”

“…black bird, fly. Black bird fly. Into the light of the dark black night.”

“I need to see him after the show,” Sirius demanded.

James couldn’t take his eyes off the singer. He nodded, not able to form words, so he gave Sirius a squeeze as the song carried on.

“Blackbird singing in the dead of night, take these broken wings and learn to fly. All your life. You were only waiting for this moment to arise. You were only waiting for this moment to arise. You were only waiting…….for this moment to arise.”

The entire room erupted, and the band stepped up, taking a final bow.

The gorgeous one grinned, and somehow, in the haze of the club, seemed to catch a view of Sirius and James. Only for a second. He bowed again, then said into the mic, “Thank you. We have CDs in the back, and t-shirts.”

Then the band was off stage and gone.

“We have to get back there,” Sirius said. Unfortunately the place was too crowded, and the moment Sirius attempted to drag them into the makeshift queue, he panicked. There were too many people too close, all in his space. James could feel Sirius’ breath start to hitch, and body began to tremble, and before Sirius could open his mouth to protest or ask to leave, James had him walking back toward the bar.

Sirius offered a weak, slightly shaky smile, and in return James ordered him a pint and the pair of them sipped their beer until the crowd began to lighten.

Unfortunately it meant that by the time Sirius and James were able to peek round the corner, the band had gone and all that was left were a few signs and an empty box where CDs had been offered for sale. Sirius looked devastated, but James pulled him in for a soft kiss.

“They’re a band, Si. I promise we’ll find them again.”

Sirius wanted to take heart in that, but he wasn’t so sure. The band was muggle, after all, and it was by chance alone Sirius had managed to find them. And really, how well would they do with a muggle, anyway?

***

It was a dreary Wednesday when Sirius found herself wandering muggle London. She’d taken to doing that on her own lately, attempting to branch out and stop feeling dependent on things like James and her wand, and Peter, and Lily. Muggle technology intimidated her a little, as did attempting to blend in, but she wanted to find that strength in herself which landed her in Gryffindor instead of Slytherin where everyone else sharing her name had gone.

Her wand was in her pocket, of course, snug up against her arse in her skin-tight jeans. She had on a long, thin, black coat to cover the evidence, and a loose t-shirt which she had seen one of the models in Lily’s magazine wearing and thought she could pull it off nicely.

She was strolling along the pavement, listening to the aesthetically pleasing sound of her boots making faint clicking noises on the hard cement, when something caught her eye. A vintage charity shop she’d never seen. Not that she’d been able to experience a lot of those in the muggle world, but the few she had, she’d loved. It was something about the smell of old clothes, like being able to step into the past, like walking into David Bowie’s seventies wardrobe or something. The clothes were well-loved and had seen times Sirius could only dream of.

She would often daydream of where her skirts, trousers, and shirts had been once upon a time. Muggles well before her own time strolling down the street. Sometimes she envisioned wizards or witches, just like her, escaping oppressive pureblood families and acting out in their muggle clothes as a spiteful, Fuck You to terrible parents. Wearing the clothes others may have existed in walking the same path as her, gave her a boost of confidence during moments she was feeling low.

Which was what led her to opening the shop door and strolling inside.

The smell was different than the last she’d been in. A sort of soft, floral, a breeze wafting from somewhere which almost reminded her of magic. The shop was like a hug, in a strange way, welcoming and making her want to stay and browse for hours. Her long, thin fingers immediately began to tap out staccato patterns along the hems of shirts and dresses hanging off the racks.

She found a few, brightly sun-coloured yellows, and vibrant oranges that made her feel an immediate sense of happy. She found a few earth toned things for her quieter days. Hanging them over her arm, she slid across over to a rack of clothes, immediately thinking of James and how he might look in various t-shirts and a funky pair of tartan trousers with big, silver buckles along the pockets.

“If you’re going for eighties punk,” came a voice, slightly accented, light but still a bit husky, “that’s the one you want. Though not your size, I’d reckon.”

There was something about the voice, something that made Sirius do a slow turn, eyes wide, searching in an almost desperate way. She didn’t take long to find the source, a tall man with wild, dark-tawny curls leaning over the glass countertop that held the cash till. He had one elbow propped up, chin resting on his fist. There were a handful of light scars littering freckled cheeks, which stood out paler against the tanned skin.

Sirius’ heart was in her throat because it took all of nine seconds to recognise the being behind the counter as the busker—as the singer from the night before. Her tongue suddenly felt ten sizes too large for her mouth and she managed a sort of, “Mmfphrbhta,” sound, which made the bloke behind the counter’s smile widen so much, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

Which then drew attention to them, and Sirius noticed they were an amazing shade of…well, he couldn’t even describe it properly. A sort of hazel, but on the yellowish side unlike James’, except when the bloke turned his head and a stream of light from the window by the door caught them, they were suddenly like molten gold.

It made Sirius half-sure she no longer had kneecaps.

She began to haphazardly grab clothing from the racks, stacking them on her arm, pretending like she was paying attention when really she was consumed by a faint buzzing noise, and tingles in every limb. She hadn’t felt this way since third year when she realised in her small, thirteen year old way, she rather fancied James Potter and she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that information.

Only now she was a proper adult with a proper life and needed to handle things like an adult.

So.

She approached the counter with clothing she hadn’t even looked at, in sizes she hadn’t paid any attention to, still with only a vague ability to string words together, and a wad of muggle money in her pocket she wasn’t entirely sure how to sort out since James normally handled those things.

“Is this everything, then?” the bloke asked, holding up a pair of particularly offensively bright green trousers which weren’t in her size or Jamie’s.

“Erm. Yes?”

“Is that a question?” the bloke asked. He shifted his cardigan to the side, which revealed a hanging lanyard with a name written in glitter pen, with several stickers of moons around it. Remus.

Remus.

Her gorgeous bard, her beautiful busker, was called Remus.

“Erm. No?” Sirius tried again.

Remus’ smile lifted even further, and when he grinned, his overbite made two small dents into his bottom lip. Sirius caught a glimpse of canine teeth which were only slightly more pointed than normal, and slightly twisted to the sides so they poked out.

She shivered inside.

Everything about him was adorable.

Digging into her pocket, and too flustered to really care if she was being obvious, she shoved the wad of cash at him when Remus said, “That’ll be sixty-pounds fifty. The paisley was on sale.”

Paisley?

Oh sweet Merlin.

“Erm.” Sirius shoved the wad of cash over again. She knew she could probably work it out. Muggle money seemed straightforward enough. The denominations were printed right there and she could add alright, but Remus was making her too nervous to function and she was showing her arse here a bit and…

“Okay let me just take three of the twenties,” Remus said patiently, “and this five. Hang on, let me get your change.”

Sirius held out a trembling hand, and it was all deposited into her palm. She crumpled it and shoved it into her pocket as Remus carefully stuffed the items into two cloth sacks. The paper receipt was shoved in along with them, and Remus pushed them across the counter.

“Have a good day,” he said cheerfully.

Sirius panicked. “I saw you at the concert,” she blurted. She could not let this end so fast, and not with a simple, have a good day.

Remus blinked. “Oh. Er…”

“I mean, I’m not stalking you or anything,” she continued, just speaking, not really thinking about it entirely. She knew James would be ready to hex her into next week if he were here to observe this. But he wasn’t. So. “I mean, I had wanted to tell you I liked the show. But you had gone before I could and well…I’m sure I also heard you singing on the street before which makes no sense at all but I know it was you. And I didn’t come in here thinking I’d see you. I swear. I just wanted some clothes and well…”

Remus’ soft, easy laughter interrupted her rambling, and her jaw shut so hard, the click was audible. “I’m Remus.”

“I saw,” Sirius said, pointing a finger at the badge. “I’m Sirius. My name, I mean. Sirius.”

“Like the star.”

She immediately brightened. “Yeah. Exactly.”

Remus leant over the counter. “Well I’m glad you enjoyed the show. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to find me, but actually it was sort of a long night and I had to rush off, so you wouldn’t have seen me anyway. I left before the CD sales.”

“Oh.” Sirius licked her lips. “Was I right? About the busking?”

Remus’ cheeks coloured with a high blush, and he glanced away before meeting Sirius’ gaze once more. “Yes. But you can’t sell me out.”

Sirius’ eyes widened. “I’d never. It was just…a surprise. Your voice is gorgeous, and you hardly sang at all. And you were on a stage. Why would you be busking?”

“It’s not for the money. Anything I make busking I donate to charity,” Remus said. “I just…I get intense stage fright. I can usually pluck up enough courage to get one song done at the end of the night, but everyone’s eyes on me…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Busking, you just sing to yourself. People pass by and sometimes they listen, sometimes they put in a pound or two. Then they smile and move on. No pressure, no expectations. Not like when people have paid to hear you perform.”

Sirius understood this on a level so deep, it actually made her ache. “I get it,” she said, her voice going a bit hoarse.

Remus grinned. “Something about your eyes told me you would.” He backed up, and when his gaze cut to behind the register, Sirius looked and saw a guitar case sat next to a small, canvas rucksack. “I’m going to play a bit later. If you want to come and hang out.”

“Me?” Sirius blurted. “You want me to come and hang out? With you? Whilst you sing?”

Remus chuckled. “Yeah, if you want. You don’t have to.”

“Er yeah I think I do,” Sirius said, breathy and almost terrified.

Remus grinned. “Since you came all this way?”

Before Sirius could protest yet again that she hadn’t meant to actually find him here, Remus backed away and removed his badge. “My replacement will be here in ten. Can you find this street corner?” Remus jotted down the names, then drew a tiny map which made Sirius think back to the Marauder’s Map a bit, and felt a strange sense like maybe Remus would have done alright with them if he’d been at school.

If he wasn’t a muggle.

“I can,” Sirius replied after a bit.

“Good. Feel free to bring a tea or something for us. Or a sweet. I never say no to those.”

Sirius felt her heart thudding harder, but a grin spread across her face and she swore in that moment she saw Remus’ blush increase just a bit. “I can do that, too, Remus. See you soon?”

“In twenty.”

Sirius hitched the bags onto her shoulder, patted down her pocket for the remainder of her muggle money, then headed for the door with a renewed sense of purpose.

***

Sirius managed to find a café not too far off from where Remus had instructed they meet. She was suddenly overcome with a realisation that she was doing all this without James knowing—being that they had discussed it but not anything this far, and they had Rules.

Slipping into the loo and locking the door, Sirius pulled the mirror out of her pocket, used her wand to enlarge it, and then tapped it whispering, “Prongs.”

It took longer than usual, and James appeared looking a bit harassed. “Si, I’m in the middle of a practical exam with Moody and I…”

“I found him,” Sirius blurted. “The busker. The singer. He’s perfect and gorgeous and wants me to listen to him sing for a while and I want to Jamie, but not if you…”

“Go,” James said, looking far less harassed and definitely softer round the edges. “You can tell me all about it later. I have to get back but…go. It’s good. We’re all good, love.”

Sirius felt a weight had been lifted off her chest, and she blew a kiss to James before putting the mirror away, and heading for the café queue. She had far more experience ordering things to eat, even if the money still tripped her up. But the café had fresh pains au chocolat which were being added to a tray, so she ordered half a dozen, plus two milky chai—trusting it would be good after seeing an adorable Indian woman who reminded him of Euphemia enough that her heart began to ache a little for home.

But before long the ache was gone, replaced by anticipation, chai, shopping bags, and chocolate croissants.

She managed to find the corner too, after only getting a little lost, and eventually having to follow the sound of the guitar and soft singing. She was grateful then, for her ability to tap into Padfoot, even when she wasn’t presently a dog. She managed to spot Remus not long after, and was rewarded by his soft smile. His guitar case was opened at his feet, a few notes and some coins sat in the bottom, and Remus shifted slightly to make room for Sirius.

She set her bags down, then lowered to the pavement and pushed the bag of pains au chocolat between them, and the chai in front of that. Remus winked, making Sirius go hot all over as she tucked one leg up, pulling her knee to her chest. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, then listened to Remus’ voice rising and falling, the tempo flowing like it was his second nature.

The other night he’d been doing the Beatles, but tonight it was music Sirius was unfamiliar with. She couldn’t be sure if it was modern muggle or not, but whatever it was, hearing it in Remus’ soft tones was perfect. She was dazed, not quite asleep, but not quite awake when Remus decided to take his first break.

“This is good.” Remus’ voice broke through Sirius’ haze, and her eyes snapped open to see him sipping the chai.

“I’m fussy about it, about chai,” she said. “But that place got it right.” Reaching down, she gripped her own, but didn’t bother with it just yet. “Also some chocolate.”

Remus peered into the bag, then laughed. “Fair enough. Thank you.”

“Least I could do,” Sirius replied, pushing the pads of her fingers into the paper sides of the cup. “Honestly letting me sit here with you is. Everything.”

Remus flushed again. “I saw you at the concert. It took me a minute, but I remember you.”

Sirius felt her throat go a little tight. “Oh. Yeah?”

“You were with someone.”

“Jamie.” Sirius couldn’t help her smile every time she said James’ name. “He’s at Aur— erm. Work training right now, or he’d be right here with me. He loved the music, too.”

“So you two are…together?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, breathy and happy. “Since just about forever.” In her James-induced haze, she still did not miss the sudden, dejected look on Remus’ face. “Oh it’s not…we’re. I mean we are, but I’m here because I like you.”

Remus blinked at her. “You’re going to have to clarify, because I feel like I’m reading signals all wrong.”

“Jamie and I have…we’re polyamorous. And not in the gross sense, the sort of using it to sleep around on each other or invite randos home and into our bed the other one doesn’t know about. We date. Together, usually. I’ve dated just me before but,” she stopped herself abruptly. “This is coming out all wrong. I just…thought you were lovely and I wanted to get to know you.”

Remus stared for a while, then his shoulders which had hunched up near his ears, relaxed a fraction. “Alright.”

“Alright?” Sirius pressed.

Remus smiled then, and nudged Sirius with his elbow before picking up his guitar once more. “Yeah.”

“Listen. Do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell? Closer, let me whisper in your ear, say the words you long to hear. I’m in love with you…

***

Sirius was walking on a cloud by the time she got home. She deposited the shopping on James’ armchair, then wandered into the kitchen. With a flick of her fingers—not arsed to grab her wand still wedged in her pocket—she heated the kettle and pulled two cups down.

It was business as usual. James would be walking in the door in five minutes, and Sirius would have a perfectly steeped cuppa waiting for him, along with a few kisses and gentle fingers carding through messy locks. She rummaged through the cabinets and found they were low on James’ favourite, which meant a trip to Diagon Alley since James insisted muggles couldn’t do tea properly.

Sirius filled her two favourite infusers—one with a shark fin, and the other that looked like a tiny person hanging on to the rim of the mug, then poured the water. She watched the brown tendrils seeping out of the small holes, and she gave the mugs a small tap together, making the brown spread.

Just as the liquid turned the perfect shade of blackish brown, the fireplace roared and a surge of heat that was not quite hot, filled the kitchen. It was dissipated by the time James stepped into the kitchen, brushing a bit of soot from his Auror-red robes. His face was drawn and weary, but soft the moment his eyes fell on Sirius.

He took the tea first, sipping the bitter liquid, and let out a hasty, “Ahhh,” before leaning his face in.

Sirius went up on her toes, one hand clutching the top of his shoulder, and she pressed her lips softly to his cheekbone. “Miss me?”

James wound one arm round her waist and tugged her close. “More than. How was your date?”

“Not a date,” Sirius said as she pushed her face into the crook of James’ neck. “But it was wonderful. He was…really great. I think you’d like him. I kept thinking about how well he would have fit with us back at Hogwarts.”

“If he hadn’t been muggle, you mean?” James asked with a wry grin as he leant back against the counter.

Sirius shrugged. “Details. Anyway, Pete is going to love him. And Lils. Marls and Dori and…everyone.”

James stared at Sirius over the rim of his mug as he took a few sips. “You already want him to meet everyone?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying I think he fits,” Sirius defended, feeling a little strange now. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself. Maybe it was becoming too much too fast. She’d done this before, and knew she ruined a good thing before he had even begun. She didn’t want that with Remus. “Am I…”

“No,” James said, cutting her off before she could spiral. “I was only asking because you don’t usually get invested so quickly. I liked him too.”

Sirius felt herself relax and eventually they moved toward the lounge. “Take away?”

“Mm.” James nodded and stared down at the shopping bags. “You order?”

“Can we do something wizard so I don’t have to try the fellytone again?” Sirius begged.

James snorted a laugh, but nodded. “Go on. Ares should be back by now. Probably having a nap on his perch.”

Sirius quickly placed an order for their favourites, sending the galleons with Ares in a small pouch. She returned moments later with their squashy duvet and James’ favourite pair of woolly socks, coming to a stop when she saw him going through all the shopping.

He was holding out a pair of paisley-printed trousers with a matching tie which had been attached to a belt loop, and his eyebrow was up. “Si…?”

“Oh Merlin’s arse, please don’t look at my shopping failure! I…” Sirius sank down into the duvet, letting it cover her like a wrap. “It was so embarrassing. I was shopping and everything there was so lovely, then I turned and Remus was there with his curls and teeth and big nose and adorableness. And his guitar. And I couldn’t think. So I just started grabbing things and made a complete arse of myself and the next thing I knew I had all these…things,” she poked at the hideous green trousers with the tip of her bare foot, “and Merlin I need to return them but I can never show my face there again. At least not for returns.”

James couldn’t help his chuckle, even as he grabbed the edges of the duvet and hauled her in for a short kiss. “How about I do it? I’ve the day off tomorrow, and you’ve got that thing, right? The shadow thing or whatever it’s called? At the shop?”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah.”

James rummaged until he found the receipt. “Perfect. Address is on here, and you can save face, and we can get rid of…” He lifted the sleeve to what looked like a rather hideous, vinyl yellow rain coat.

“Shut up,” Sirius muttered as James laughed, then kissed her once more.

***

Sirius was off early that morning to spend the day watching one of the resident tattoo artists at the shop. He was still on the fence about whether or not he wanted to dip his toes into that side of the profession, but James encouraged him to at least spend a full day watching, and to go with his heart.

They kissed a quick good morning before Sirius was out the door, which left James to a nice lie-in, a cup of tea with his toast and tomatoes, and then an early morning jog to keep up on his fitness requirements for his future position as an Auror.

He had been looking forward to this day off for some time, and when he came back for a shower, he spotted the shopping still on the chair.

Sirius had removed everything he wanted to keep, so the rest were the go-backs, and James chuckled again at the memory of his lover’s horror over what he’d bought. Sirius was far too meticulous to make that mistake over just anyone, so James had to assume Remus really was something special.

He was not opposed to dating someone, either. They didn’t do it often. Their lives were complicated enough, and their choices limited with how small the wizarding world was, and how difficult it would be to date a muggle and not break the rules.

Leave it to Padfoot, he thought as he stepped under a hot stream of water, to take the most complicated route and fall for someone outside the magical community. But James could not deny Remus was easy on the eyes. He was chubby and his curls were gorgeous and his smile during several of the songs made James feel a little weak in the knees.

But if it hadn’t been for Sirius running into Remus the day before, he wondered if he’d really have considered even looking for him again. The look on Sirius’ face though, it made James want to at least try. Sirius hadn’t established contact with Remus again, though. Sirius hadn’t seemed bothered by it, but James had to wonder what the next step would be.

That on his mind, he dressed and gathered Sirius’ things to return.

The charity shop wasn’t far, and before long James was stepping in to a cool room, with a gentle breeze, and very light floral scent. He glanced round, but he didn’t see any salespeople, so he headed to the front counter to wait. He knew he was better at muggle money and muggle dealings with Sirius—having paid far more attention to both muggle studies and the things Lily said, but the whole thing still made him a bit nervous. Going into law enforcement, the last thing he needed was a charge for breaking the Statute of Secrecy on his record.

Tapping his fingers on the glass, James hummed a little tune, Sirius’ Weird Sister’s album which had been playing almost non-stop over the last few days and had been stuck in his head almost just as long. He tapped his foot against the counter’s baseboard, getting a little louder with his humming until he heard someone clearing their throat.

His head whipped round and he first spotted a sort of maroon cardigan over a white t-shirt, corduroy trousers. His gaze trailed up and saw dark-tawny curls tucked up under a loosely knitted beanie. Then the face. The familiar face that Sirius had been going on about since the concert.

“Remus,” he blurted out.

Remus’ eyes widened, and he looked momentarily confused. “Sorry, do I know you? Are…” Then he stopped and his face went alight with clarity. “Oh. You’re Sirius’ James.”

Sirius’ James.

Something about that term made him feel suddenly a bit lighter and he couldn’t help a tiny grin as he shrugged. “Yes?”

“Is that a question?” Remus asked, then shook his head and laughed. “It’s no wonder. But hello, did Sirius send you?”

“Wait.” James stared at Remus’ badge. “You work here.”

Remus laughed a bit louder. “Yeah, I do.”

“Sirius didn’t…” James shook his head. “Never mind. I need to return these.” James banged the shopping bags on the counter as Remus came round and began to pull the items out. His mouth twitched at the corners, and he bit down on his lip as he sorted them.

“Normally we don’t take returns, but Sirius seemed a little out of sorts. Some of the purchases…surprised me.”

“Ah. Yeah.” James snorted a tiny laugh. “And of course he’s working today so I offered to take the brunt of the humiliation.”

“I don’t think it’s humiliating,” Remus said as he began to scan the little tags into the muggle machine. After a moment, he reached into the cash till and pulled out a few of the colourful paper notes, and pressed them into James’ hand. “All sorted?”

“Erm. Yes.” James took a step back. Then stepped forward again. “Erm. Do you eat?”

Remus blinked. “I…do. Yes.”

James felt his cheeks go hot. “I mean to say would you eat. With me. Like for lunch or…?”

“Is this like a vetting thing or a date or friendly or jealousy?” Remus questioned.

James was a bit taken aback by the questions, and it took him a moment to react. “Well. I want to say date, but I’m afraid if I do you might say no.”

Remus grinned. “Yes. I have my lunch in a few hours. You want to come back? Or I can meet you.”

“I can meet you,” James said in a rush. “I’ll…yes. I can meet you. In a few hours.”

Remus leant his elbow on the counter with a tiny grin and shook his head. “I can see why the pair of you work. Just similar enough to be perfect, and just different enough that you don’t consume each other completely.”

James wasn’t sure how to take that. In a good way, but he’d never had someone sum up him and Sirius so well before, and it made his head spin a little. “Thank you,” he said eventually, a bit breathy.

Remus winked, making James’ heart flutter. “Any time.”

James started to back away. “So. Few hours.”

“Mmhmm.”

James was profoundly aware of Remus’ eyes on the back of him as he exited the shop.

***

“…and we’ll be having lunch in about an hour.” James was sat up on the counter near the piercing table. Sirius had abandoned shadowing the tattoo artist and had gone back to his regular job. He’d just finished up with a client, and was cleaning up his tray, shoving his tools into the machine to be sanitised. “Does that…I mean, do you want to come with?”

Sirius glanced over at James and smiled, shaking his head. “I want you to have time with him on your own. To see how you feel, suss it out. I like him a lot, but we don’t even know him and I feel like…well sometimes I don’t trust myself, but I trust you.”

James swung his legs back and forth, and the moment Sirius was done, he spread his thighs and beckoned his lover over. Sirius was quick to fit between them, slotting in like a puzzle piece, and he leant his head on James’ chest to feel the heartbeat against his cheek. James’ fingers toyed with a few of the curls at the base of Sirius’ neck which had escaped his bobble. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. But I understand your hesitation. I like him though. Barring anything untoward—secret bigotry or something—I think he could be good for us.”

“Yeah. Plus he sings,” Sirius replied quietly.

James laughed. “And there’s that.”

“What about the magic thing, though? I mean, what if he takes it badly? What if…”

“No,” James said. “Don’t get yourself worked up over what ifs. I’m not saying he’s going to take it well, or perfectly, or be able to handle it, but it won’t be the end of the world if it doesn’t go over the way we want it to.”

“Just not sure I want to deal with more disappointment,” Sirius admitted.

“Well, that’s your choice, love.” James brushed his hand up and down Sirius’ spine. “If you don’t want to take the risk…”

“I can’t keep making my decisions like that, Jamie. I mean, letting my fear control me…” He trailed off and sighed. “Sometimes it’s not worth the risk, but maybe this time it is.”

James grabbed Sirius by the chin, tilting his head up. “Whatever happens, you have me. You’ll always have me.”

Leaning up onto his toes, Sirius pushed their mouths together. The kiss was chaste, but soft and as wonderful as every kiss between them had ever been. When they broke apart, James was smiling, and Sirius looked far less tense. With a slender hand, Sirius gave James’ cheek a pat.

“Go. Have a good date. Ply him with delicious food and if it works out, we can try a date with the three of us and see where it goes from there.” Backing up, Sirius offered a hand, helping James hop down off the counter, and then gave James’ shirt a tug to straighten it. “Be charming. I like this one.”

“Aren’t I always?” James asked. In reply, he got a kiss and a wink.

***

James was nervous. It wasn’t often he was, but it also wasn’t often that Sirius really liked someone the way he liked Remus. Granted they needed to get to know him properly, but James could see what Sirius meant. There was just something about him that said he fit well into their lives.

Remus chose a small restaurant not far from the charity shop, a little Greek place James hadn’t seen before, but the smells wafting out were delicious. “I come here a lot,” Remus said as he perused the menu.

“Order for me, then?”

Remus peeked up over the menu, his eyes crinkled with a grin. “Yeah? Anything you don’t like.”

“Red onions,” James admitted.

Remus snorted. “That’s limiting. Okay um…” James watched as he tapped his finger along the items. Eventually the server came over, and Remus placed a large order of several things James couldn’t quite pronounce. Eventually a couple of fizzy drinks appeared in the server’s hands, and a plate of pita, cucumber, and two small dishes of sauces.

“Hummus,” Remus said. “And Tzatziki.”

James sampled both, smiling. “These are good. Well done, you.” He chewed a bit on his bite of pita, then sat back.

They locked gazes for a few minutes before Remus spoke again. “Does Sirius know you’re here?”

“He does,” James confirmed. “I went by the tattoo shop earlier.”

Remus’ eyebrow lifted. “Tattoo shop.”

“Sirius does piercings,” James clarified. “For work.”

“And you?”

James opened his mouth, then shut it. Then tried desperately to remember what they were called in the muggle world. Pleasemen or something. Fuck. “Law Enforcement,” he eventually said, hoping Remus wouldn’t ask him to clarify too much. “I’ve only just started. I’m training.”

Remus’ eyebrows both lifted this time. “That’s…well I think that’s a bit fitting. How do you like it?”

James laughed. “Fitting? Seem that straight-edged, do I?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Remus said with a tiny laugh. “More that you seem the type to want to do good, when you can.”

James felt his cheeks go a little hot at how well Remus seemed to have pegged him, and only after a short moment of knowing him. James was getting more smitten by the moment, and he wasn’t sure how dangerous it was. It would hurt, even now, if Remus rejected them, especially over something like magic. “There were some kids Si and I went to school with that…got involved in some less than friendly things.”

“Crime?”

James shrugged. “Bordering on. Started following racist ideals, and it made me want to be in a position where I could put a stop to it. Sirius’ brother was swept up in it. Got out before he got hurt but…it sort of made me realise where my passion was.”

Remus was smiling softly. “I had a feeling I’d like you a lot.”

James’ blush increased. “Did you?”

Remus shrugged. “The way Sirius was just gone over you. It’s why I almost said no tonight. I understand, I mean Sirius explained it all but there’s this part of me who thinks I might always be an intruder.”

“That isn’t how it works,” James said quickly.

Remus smiled again. “I know. But it’s new for me. And you two have been a thing for a long time. At least that’s what Sirius said yesterday.”

James sighed, propping his elbow on the table. “If it’s too complicated, you can say so now. I mean, we don’t know you well, you don’t know us. There’s a lot you should know before we even…” He trailed off, not able to go into detail as much as he wanted to, and it was frustrating. It must have showed on his face, however, because Remus reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“Maybe we’re over-thinking it. Maybe we just see where it goes?”

James immediately relaxed, then turned his palm up, pressing it against Remus’. “I think I’d like that quite a lot.”

They finished their meal, making small talk—James skilfully avoiding any talk of magic, though it was difficult. He found himself slipping a few times, but if Remus noticed anything odd, he seemed to attribute it to James having a handful of interesting quirks.

For his part, Remus talked about his band, the music. “I got into the Beatles when I was really little. My parents were huge fans, and my dad used to sing me to sleep with Here Comes the Sun every night. He…died. Um. A few months ago,” Remus’ voice broke there, and James felt a profound urge to hug him, but they weren’t quite there just yet. “I saw this ad asking for a guitarist, and I’m not a professional. I was just doing busking on the weekends and between shifts at the shop. But I thought I’d give it a go, and well…it helped my dad had taught me all the classics.”

James, of course, had very little idea what the muggle classics were, but he smiled all the same. “Well you were amazing. Definitely caught our attention.”

At that, Remus’ cheeks pinked and James felt a little victory at getting a reaction, especially one that adorable. Leaning over the table, he put his hand over the back of the other man’s, and Remus turned his palm up, their fingers slotting together. It felt different than holding hands with Sirius—Remus’ hands were larger, softer, warmer. But it was also oddly right, though James didn’t quite have the words for it.

“Why don’t you come over to ours. We can order take-away and maybe have it be a date?” When Remus looked hesitant, James quickly said, “Sirius does alright with dates sometimes. But he has intense anxiety in social situations so we have to plan outings and they can…get cancelled if things go wrong. I promise I don’t mean it the way you think I do.”

Remus’ mouth went soft at the edges. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…it wasn’t that I thought you know…that. Just, I’ve had a handful of bad dates recently.”

“Look if it’s too much…”

“No,” Remus said. His gaze cut to the door, then he sighed. “No it’s not that. I trust you. Both of you.”

James grinned. “Alright. Well I’m off tomorrow night if you…”

“I can’t,” Remus said, and sounded full of regret. “I’m busy erm…the next two or three days.”

James hummed as he considered his schedule. He was working a few overnights in his training now that the practical exams were over, but there would be time next week. “Tuesday?” he offered.

“I have a show,” Remus said. “Pick me up after?”

James beamed. “We can do that.”

The bill came shortly after, and James pushed Remus’ hand away, insisting he had invited, so he got to pay. He dug into his muggle money, frowning as he tried to calculate the expenses, tripped up by using paper instead of coin. Remus seemed to find it amusing, and carefully took the money, laying out exactly the amount listed.

“Did you grow up here?” Remus asked.

“Ah. Well. I mean, not as much as you might think,” James said, fumbling a little, cheeks flaming hot. “It’s…well Sirius and I were away most of school. And my parents didn’t spend a lot of time in London when we were growing up so…”

“It’s fine. I was only taking the piss,” Remus said. He gave James a look then, a funny one that made James think—only for a second—that maybe he knew something was different. But the look was gone, replaced by a kind smile, and James dropped it.

They headed out, back toward the shop, and paused when they reached the door. “Tuesday then?” Remus said, reaching for James’ hand once more.

Unable to help himself, James tugged Remus in close. “Hug?”

Remus chuckled, sliding his arms round James’ waist, and rested his cheek right up against his shoulder. “Hugs are very nice. I’ll make sure you have tickets at the door. Same pub as before. See you then?”

James nodded, saying nothing, and his arms felt empty when Remus had left them and went inside.

It was hours and hours later when James realised that Remus not asking for their number, or some form of contact, was a little bit odd.

***

“D’you think it’s odd Remus didn’t offer a number?” James asked, clutching the small bottle of red varnish between two fingers. He held the brush over Sirius’ toe, his head cocked to the side as he observed his work. It wasn’t the best, but Sirius insisted having her toes done by him was more relaxing than having them done by a stranger—even if it meant smudges.

Sirius bit down on her lip and shrugged. “Didn’t think about it. The whole fellytone thing is…I mean it’s a bit like the mirror so it shouldn’t be so strange, but I can’t get the hang of it. And the buttons. And muggles always have those little ones pressed to their faces and I can’t for the life of me work out how that’s a thing.”

James laughed quietly as he used the edge of his thumbnail to tidy up a polish smear. He pushed Sirius’ left foot down, then crooked his fingers for her right. “I like him,” he said, “but I thought it was strange. Being a muggle, shouldn’t he have one?”

“Maybe he’s not got money for it. He donates his busking money to charity and I don’t imagine charity shops pay for luxury things.”

James hummed, but dropped it as he glanced out the window. It was late, the full moon looming in the sky, and he was getting tired. He wondered about Remus, about where he was, or what he was doing. There was a strange worry settling in his bones. “We should go running soon.”

Sirius blinked at James. “Yeah?” It had been ages since they’d used their animagi forms. It had been a bit of fun, proof they were the most clever teenagers Hogwarts had ever seen. Proof that McGonagall’s assessment that no witch or wizard could accomplish it before late in life was utter bollocks.

It had been James’ idea not to register, and now he was too paranoid to ever use his form for fear that it would taint his record and prevent him from having a good job at the ministry. Sirius ached at times, to be a dog. It was in her nature now, in her bones. She half suspected Peter still ran round in his own form without telling—not that Sirius could blame him. Peter had managed it last, but his had been the most useful of the three.

“You think?” Sirius eventually asked. “Maybe we could slip into Hogsmeade when you have a weekend off.” She went quiet. “Something we probably couldn’t do with Remus. If he wants to date us.”

James sighed. “Having second thoughts?” He capped the varnish and set it on the table, easing Sirius up so her back was pressed against his side. He slid an arm round her waist, dipping his head low to kiss along her neck. “If you are…”

“No,” she replied in a soft, quiet whisper. “I mean. I mean, there are things I don’t want to give up. Things I might be afraid he’d ask us to. And we’d have to do more muggle things and that makes me feel a bit…” She trailed off and rubbed a tingling ache along her arms which was one of the bigger, physical manifestations of her anxiety.

James held her a little tighter. “I don’t think anyone we fall in love with is going to ask us to give up big parts of ourselves, Pads. I don’t think we could fall in love with someone like that.”

Sirius hummed, leaning back against James, and closed her eyes. “Good or bad feeling?”

James chuckled, drawing his fingers into her hair. “Good. Very good. We’ll see him soon.”

***

Sirius was a ball of anxiety the day of the date. She’d changed clothes no less than forty times, and was pacing the flat as James was late. He’d been called into work for an emergency—a few neo-Death Eaters had been spotted and Moody needed back up. She was now not only worried about James—who hadn’t been answering on the mirror—and worried she’d miss Remus who was waiting for them, and had no way to be contacted if something came up.

Her nails were ragged and bitten, which frustrated her, and she glanced out the window again as she saw the night creeping by further and further. “Jamie,” she groaned. She looked down and ran her hands down the front of her leggings—the material soft, black with a vinyl swirl of even darker black which caught in the dim light of their lamp.

Just when she was about to give up hope, the mirror heated up and made the soft dinging sound James had charmed it to do. She lunged for it, nearly tripping over herself, and jammed it so close, her nose nearly brushed the glass. “Where the hell are you?”

“I’m sorry, love,” James gasped. “I’m so sorry. We were in a dead area, no magic, and then we ended up chasing them down on foot. I have to help Moody process everything. I’m…I’ll be late. Really late.”

“What do I do?” Sirius asked.

“Well…” James’ face fell. “I don’t want to ask you to deal with those muggles all on your own and…”

“I can,” Sirius said in a rush. “I’ll go after the show, before Remus leaves. I’ll take the bike.”

James pulled a face. “It’s going to rain.”

“I’ll be careful. I swear.”

Looking a little dubious, James sighed, but eventually conceded, in a way proud of his partner for stepping outside of her comfort zone. The bonus was it was for the sake of Remus, and James felt his chest go warm. “Just keep the mirror on you. And check in. And save me some food, I’m bloody starving.”

Sirius touched the mirror with the tips of her fingers, brushing them along the reflection of James’ face as though he could feel it. “I will. I love you. Please please be safe.”

“I was,” James said. “Always. Now go, and I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

Sirius nodded, then the mirror went dark and she shrank it, shoving it into her pocket. She glanced at the table, staring at the keys to the bike, then swept them up, letting the metal bite into her palm. It was just enough to distract from the anxiety. She knew the concert was already going on, so if she left now, she could catch the tail end, and hopefully not be overwhelmed by the crowd.

Taking a breath, she grabbed her leather jacket from the peg near the door, then headed out. She remembered the way to the small club Remus would be playing at, and the thought she might get to hear him sing a little—she remembered him saying it was only at the end of the shows he had the confidence to let himself be heard by the crowd—was enticing enough to make any potential fears totally worth it.

Her hands gripped the handle on her bike, the boots digging into the pegs, and she took off down the street. She fought the urge to use magic, to take to the skies and close the distance faster. But she couldn’t risk being seen, and she wanted to do this Remus’ way, at least for now. She reached the pub not long after—the place not too far, and found decent parking.

Slipping the keys into her pocket, Sirius headed for the door where there was no queue. She could hear the music coming from the crack in a window, and at the moment, it wasn’t Remus singing. She let out a small breath as she pulled it open, and was immediately confronted by a tall man in a tight black t-shirt.

“Venue’s closed and we’re not taking any more tickets at the door.”

For a second, Sirius faltered, then remembered Remus saying he’d leave tickets for them. “Erm. I was on a list. I know Remus, in the band? He said there would be tickets for Sirius and James.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have identification.”

Sirius gulped. Fuck. She hadn’t quite thought that far, and she really wanted to see Remus play, but at this point, her only choice was confundus, and she didn’t want to risk that—James would never forgive her. Her face fell. “Sorry, I didn’t bring it with me.”

She was turned away, and feeling her heart breaking a little as she wandered round the back of the pub to wait. She knew Remus had gone out that way the last time, so she found a clear patch of pavement that wasn’t too dirty, and sat down. The cold, unforgiving concrete soaked into her leggings, and she tucked her knees into her chest. Resting her chin on them, she could just barely make out the sounds of the band. Her eyes closed, and she began to rock back and forth to the gentle thrumming of the Beatles, wishing she was inside, and more than that, wishing she was with James and Remus.

To add insult to injury, moments before the final cheer went up from the crowd, the sky unleashed. It didn’t start out as a slow trickle, or a gentle mist as the storms usually did, but instead a cloud burst and within moments she was soaked to the bone. There was no chance of a drying charm now, or an impervious. She was stuck soaked, hunkered near the wall, waiting for Remus to appear.

She could not have possibly felt worse.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sirius listened to people leaving, to excited chatter, couples laughing and squealing as they made a break for it in the downpour. She continued to sit, drawing more into herself, wishing she was anywhere but here.

Losing time, Sirius didn’t come back to herself until a warm hand touched her cheek. Her eyes flew open, gasping, staring up into concerned amber ones. Her limbs were stiff, hair dripping and matted to the sides of her face. “Remus?”

“What the hell, Sirius? Why are you out here?”

“F-forgot my identification,” she said, jaw chattering. “Didn’t want to leave. You were on stage. J-jamie was late. Work.”

Remus immediately tucked her close to his body and dragged her toward the door to the pub. It was dry there, so warm it actually made her skin ache a bit, and she found herself being shoved into a room, and a warm towel was soaking up the excess water from her hair.

“You should have just told one of them to fetch me,” Remus scolded. He turned Sirius in his arms, then used a dry corner of the towel to gently swipe across her numb cheeks. “I don’t care if I’m on stage. I’d rather be pulled off than knowing you were getting soaked in the alley.”

Sirius shrugged up one shoulder. “S’okay. My own fault.”

Remus shook his head. “I should have realised…” he stopped then, his cheeks going pink. “Well I should have thought ahead. Are you okay? Do you want a drink to warm up or something?”

Sirius shook her head, teeth still chattering a little. “No. Have to drive.”

“The hell you are, like this,” Remus said with a glower. “We can even call off the date if you like.”

“No!” Sirius said in a rush. “A-after all th-that?” She clenched her jaw together in an attempt to make herself stop stammering. “We’re getting take-away. Warm, warm take-away, and going back to mine.”

Remus shook his head, but wore a fond smile. “Fine. But this one is my treat, and I’m driving your car.”

“Motorbike,” Sirius replied.

Remus lifted a brow. “You expect us to bring take-away and not get more soaked on a motorbike? Sirius, we are getting a cab.”

Sirius wanted to protest, but the idea of being able to sit in a warm car—as much as cars and Sirius did not completely get along—was too good to pass up. So she gave a half-nod and allowed Remus to flag one down. Before long, they were stopped, and Remus was getting a few soups from the Thai shop not far, and Sirius was giving directions to her flat.

They were inside before things could become overwhelming, Remus taking care of the cab fare too, and soon enough she was stood under a stream of hot water in her own, warm, cosy shower. Remus was sorting out the soup, and Sirius was attempting to remember if she and James had managed to remove all signs that they were wizard. Which would have been difficult to do, but she could only hope anything left wasn’t so overtly wizard that Remus would wonder too much.

She wrapped up in James’ dressing gown for a few minutes as she combed her hair out, comforted by the smell of him, and by the time she came out—in loose, silky pyjama bottoms and a cami—Remus had made himself comfortable on the sofa, two bowls of soup prepared and ready for them on their small coffee table.

“This should take care of any leftover bad feelings,” Remus said, holding out a hand.

Sirius let his warm fingers curl over hers, and she situated herself on the floor with her back to the sofa. Remus slid down to join her, nudging her with his elbow and grinning as they tucked in. The soup was amazing, a fragrant coconut milk broth with bits of veggies and a sort of dumpling Sirius had never tasted before.

“How is it?” Remus asked.

“Good,” Sirius breathed. “Really good. I’ve never had anything like this. My parents had a chef when I was growing up, but we weren’t served anything that wasn’t proper British. My mum trying to erase any sort of…what she considered splotches to her bloodline.”

Remus raised a brow. “Meaning?”

“Nothing too exotic, so she called it. We lived in Rabat until Reg—my brother—was four. I don’t remember much of it, and none of the food. It wasn’t until I moved in with Jamie and got to dive into foods like curries and things not decidedly spiceless and bland, that I understood food was meant to be enjoyed.”

“That’s…” Remus trailed off. “Just…I’ll have you over for some of the holidays. My mam takes cooking to a whole new level. Hanukkah…” He smiled and shook his head. “When she and my dad got married, she made it a point to learn all his favourite Israeli dishes so he wouldn’t miss home too much. Trust me, it’s wonderful.”

Sirius couldn’t help a grin as she leant into Remus a bit, continuing on with her soup. It was just spicy enough, and just warm enough to put the colour back into her cheeks, and the life in her limbs.

“I saved some for James,” Remus said when the pair of them finished, setting empty dishes on the table. Remus helped ease Sirius back onto the sofa, and didn’t move his arm when they settled down. “Will he want some?”

Sirius barked a laugh. “He all but threatened me if I didn’t save at least a little bit. He’s not pleased about work. Last minute sort of…emergency thing.”

“Criminals?” Remus asked, winking.

Sirius shrugged. “Something like that. It’s…complicated.”

Remus’ mouth worked, like he wanted to say something, and yet again held back. Sirius had to bite back the urge to ask what it was. She didn’t like secrets—regardless of keeping her own at the moment, but not knowing Remus well set her on edge.

“You can talk to me,” she said quietly.

Remus blinked. “I…there’s something…” He stopped. “I’d like it to wait for James. It’s a thing. And it’s a thing that should be out before we even think of carrying on further.”

Sirius felt like she’d swallowed flobberworms. “Is it bad? I mean…your tone’s a little ominous and I…” She stopped when Remus reached over and took her hand.

“It might be bad. That’s up to you. But for now, we can do something else. Tell me…tell me something about you. Something personal. Something that makes you feel good.”

Sirius blinked, then cocked her head to the side and smiled. “I was thirteen years old the first time someone used she-her pronouns with me, and it was the first time anything in the world felt so right.”

Remus blinked, then smiled. “Yeah?”

Sirius shrugged, unable to help grinning back. She wanted to tell the rest of the story, how the moment Jamie told her to, she’d stepped on the girls’ dormitory steps and nothing happened. She hadn’t been rejected. Until four days later when she wasn’t feeling much like a she anymore and she’d been knocked back down. Or how sometimes sleeping in the boys or the girls’ dormitory felt just…wrong and how McGonagall had found her crying and offered to set up a dorm for her—and for others who might feel like they needed a place to go.

But she couldn’t say any of that yet.

So instead she shrugged. “It was rough going at first. I wasn’t sure what it meant, and I couldn’t be me at home. My parents were…” She shuddered at the thought, and Remus squeezed her hand.

“Don’t. It’s fine, I don’t need to hear the details if they hurt.”

Sirius swallowed thickly. “Well anyway. Jamie was with me. Helped out a lot, obviously. Not sure I could have done it without him. I think…he wasn’t sure what it meant either. He loved me, but he had this idea in his head he’d get married and have kids and whatever it was we were wasn’t going to last. He dated our friend Lily briefly until she heard him talking about his future and promptly laughed herself silly and told him the only way he’d ever be happy is if he could call me his. And she wasn’t interested in sharing.”

Remus bit down on his lip as he listened, then said, “Just her, then?”

Sirius nodded. “I love her. If it had worked out with her, I would have been alright. But honestly she wouldn’t have been happy with him. In the end.”

Remus squeezed Sirius fingers, then pulled his own back to draw lines along her palm. “I got…sick,” Remus said. “I was almost five. It was a bad thing, terrible thing. My parents blame themselves. It’s something I’ve got and will always have. No cure. It doesn’t feel good, and it can be hard to live with.”

“Is it contagious?” Sirius asked quietly.

Remus made sure to meet her eyes before he said, “Yes. Not from holding hands, not from kissing or fucking or anything like that. Really specific circumstances. But it is. I don’t want to lie to you. And I’ll tell you more. After James gets here.”

Sirius stared down at Remus’ fingers—long and gorgeous, callused from the guitar and strong. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Remus repeated softly.

Sirius nodded. “Okay. Whatever it is…it’s okay.”

Remus opened his mouth as if to protest, but thought better of it. “How was tattooing?”

Sirius blinked, then laughed and shook her head. “Oh. I didn’t. I…I love drawing. I’m good at it. I love piercing.” She stuck out her tongue and showed the small barbell sat in the centre of it. “But the thought of permanently inking my own work onto someone’s skin is…too much. It’s too much pressure. I don’t think I could live with it if it wasn’t total perfection.”

Remus nodded, as though he completely understood. “But you’re happy for now?”

Sirius grinned and leant into Remus a bit. “More than.”

***

James walked in the door at half eleven to find Remus on the sofa with Sirius’ head pillowed on his lap. His fingers were in her hair, and she was dead to the world. Remus gave James a sheepish grin as he stepped in, and James was pleased he remembered to swap into muggle clothes before coming home—which was a near miss and left him transfiguring his Auror robes into jeans and a t-shirt in the alley behind the dustbins.

“Everything alright?” James asked as he fished into his pockets for his keys, banging them into the small dish by the door.

“There was an incident,” Remus confessed.

James immediately went tense, crossing the room and sinking onto the cushion near Sirius’ feet. His hand curled round her ankle, and Sirius didn’t budge. “What incident? Is she okay? What happened?”

“I’m not entirely sure. She didn’t go into it much.” Remus’ gentle carding motions stopped, and Sirius let out a small groan, nuzzling her face into Remus’ thigh, though she didn’t wake just yet. “I found her in the alley, soaking wet and curled up against the wall.”

James let out a tiny sigh, shifting so Sirius’ feet were more properly in his lap, and he leant back into the cushions. Lolling his head to the side, he looked at Remus who seemed more content than anyone rightfully should have—except maybe James, and maybe that was why he felt less worried about seeing Sirius working herself into a total exhaustion. “Did you eat?”

Remus hummed, nodding. “Saved you some. It’s in the fridge.”

James glanced in the direction of the kitchen, but getting up was so unappealing, his hunger which had been gnawing at his belly, seemed to fade into the background. “Thanks. You two had a nice time? I’m sorry I got called into work. We had an incident. Some wi—er. Um. Bad guys. Were doing bad things.”

Remus grinned at him. “As bad guys do.”

“As bad guys do,” James repeated, unable to stop a tiny smile from forming. “Normally I don’t let work interfere with personal stuff, but it was just bad timing.”

Remus shook his head. “It’s alright. We had a good night, all things considered.”

“Just was kind of hoping we could call this a date. With all of us,” James said softly. He shifted a bit closer, and this time Sirius began to wake, drifting toward the surface of consciousness. One grey eye poked open, fixing on Remus first, then James, before jamming shut and shifting to press a nose into Remus’ belly, curling a calf into the side of James’ thigh. “Love?” James asked quietly, drawing a hand up and down the side of Sirius’ ankle. “Care to join us?”

“Mmpfh,” Sirius said. “Can’t a guy get any sleep round here?”

James snorted, leaning a little further. “He can when he hasn’t invited a date over. Even if his boyfriend is absurdly late.”

Sirius couldn’t seem to stop his grin as he pushed his face further into Remus, but he was waking up now. After a moment, and a series of small yawns, Sirius popped up. He was adorably rumpled, hair in a bit of disarray—though it would never come close to James’. He had impressions of Remus’ jeans imbedded into his cheek, and James reached out, drawing his thumb along the warm skin.

“Have a nice kip, did you?”

“Necessary,” Sirius admitted. He shifted so he was wedged between the pair of them, his head now leant on James’ shoulder, though his thigh was pressed to Remus’ to keep contact. “Rough afternoon. I erm. I forgot my identification card thingie.”

Remus blinked, and James coughed at how awkward Sirius sounded. “Right. Erm…”

“For the tickets,” Sirius said. “So I had to wait in the alley, then it started raining and I sort of…lost time. And I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“The doorman told me someone had come in looking for me, trying to claim the tickets,” Remus said, reaching out to press the tips of his fingers along the back of Sirius’ wrist. “I’ll be better careful.” He took a breath, and didn’t look up to meet their eyes when he said, “Should have reckoned a pair of non-muggles wouldn’t carry ID.”

There was a profound silence. They could hear individual drops of rain, it was so quiet, so tense. James cracked first, his eyes sharply fixed on Remus. “You knew. You…you know. You…but you. How do you…?”

“Wizard,” Remus said with a shrug.

Sirius, who had barely recovered, blinked rapidly. “But. But. You didn’t go to Hogwarts.”

“No.” Remus rose now, pulling away from Sirius like a stubborn plaster. His hand went up into his curls, knocking his beanie back, and he started to pace a little. He looked panicked, far from the confident, easy-going musician they assumed he had been.

James wanted to be upset, but it only lasted a second. They had, after all, been keeping it from him too. Only Remus had clearly been better at hiding what he was. Who he was. “Why not?” James asked after too long a pause.

“Wasn’t allowed.” Remus licked his lips. “I was homeschooled. My parents took care of my education. Took my exams privately, so I’m qualified. Just…didn’t get the whole school experience.” He shrugged. “I went to muggle school. Mam’s not a witch.”

Sirius was chewing on his bottom lip so hard, James saw the skin starting to give way, and he drew his thumb over it to make him stop. Sirius let it go, the skin now a bit puffy, but he didn’t even look over, his gaze fixed on Remus like a spell. “Why?”

Remus swallowed. “I want to tell you. I do. But it’s not…this isn’t easy for me. Because most people…” He stopped and took a breath. “I’m not a bad person. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life. I will never…I mean so far as I can help it. So if you could maybe try and understand, maybe not throw me out or…”

James was starting to figure it out. It was information, hovering in the air, on the tip of his tongue. But he didn’t fight hard for it. He nodded, even as Sirius rose and reached out for Remus, though the curly-haired man stayed just outside of his grasp.

“I’m a werewolf.”

In a way, it made sense. The scars, the absence from their school, mysteriously busy the night of the full moon. James hadn’t even thought, though. And he wasn’t sure what his face did, and he couldn’t ask Remus—who kept his gaze on the floor—and he couldn’t ask Sirius—who hadn’t stopped staring at Remus.

After a moment, Sirius let out a breath. “Is that all?”

“Is that not enough?” Remus bit, sounding defensive. “I’m a werewolf. Pariah in our world. Monster. Half-breed. Partial human. I could go on. I’ve a list on my registration paperwork.”

James felt his stomach sink, shame coursing through him at the way Remus had clearly been treated most of his life by their own kind. James had never held prejudices, and any Sirius might have had, were long-since gone. But in a way, he understood why Remus was afraid they might react badly. Had they been other wizards, it was possible. It was clear, in fact, by Remus’ attitude now, it had happened far more often than not.

“When I realised the pair of you weren’t muggles, I almost didn’t bother,” Remus admitted. “Muggles are easier. They don’t really question, because they don’t really believe.”

Sirius bit down on his lip, then took a step forward. Then another. Remus stopped backing away, and Sirius held out a hand. “Please? I’m not bothered. Neither is Jamie.”

Remus’ eyes cut to James who could really do nothing more than nod. Then he stepped forward, into Sirius’ grasp, and allowed the shorter man to hold him. “I know it’s a lot. You can take time to process.”

“I’m alright,” Sirius said. He glanced over at James then, who still hadn’t said much. “Prongs?”

Licking his lips, James nodded. “I’m alright. It makes sense. I’m not…I don’t think you’re a monster. And I think our sofa is a bit more comfortable than standing in the middle of the floor. Especially at nearly midnight.”

Remus let out a laugh, a bit high and tight, but allowed Sirius to bring him back to the cushions. It was him in the middle this time, head against Sirius’ shoulder, thigh pressed to James’. After a moment, James reached out and took his hand, playing with his fingers, tapping them together in a staccato rhythm.

“If you really want to date me, you know it won’t be easy,” Remus warned.

James let out the smallest snort. “Remus, our community might be vaguely more tolerable to a lifestyle muggles consider strange, but we’re still not the norm.”

“Add into that the pair of us are unregistered Animagi,” Sirius said, daring and bold, bravely revealing their deepest secret to Remus who had just shared his own. “I think we can handle being with a werewolf. And I think if anyone has a problem with it, they can go fuck themselves.”

Remus couldn’t help his startled laugh, and he turned his head to look at Sirius properly. “Yeah?”

“Well,” Sirius said, reaching out a hand to cup Remus’ cheek, “one condition?”

“Okay?” Remus said, sounding only vaguely wary.

“You sing the Beatles to me at night.”

Remus burst into giggles, then pushed his nose right into Sirius’ cheek. “I think I can handle that. If you can handle me turning into a slavering beast once a month, I think I can do a bit of crooning to the dulcet tones of John Lennon.”

James felt a wash of affection for this man—still a bit of a stranger, and a mystery to boot even if they’d known him a bit longer. He shifted closer, putting his hand on Remus’ thigh, and tucked in close to the pair of them. It felt right. It felt warm and belonging. It hadn’t been like this before, and he knew even if things didn’t work out, it wouldn’t be like this again.

So he had a mind to keep it, to dig in his fingers and hold on as tight as he could, for as long as he could. He let his lips brush along Remus’ cheek, then his hand found Sirius’ and held fast. His eyes closed, and he smiled as he said, “You know, I think I’m a George man, myself.”

***

Epilogue: Nine Months Later

Remus let out a creaking groan. The last of the fur was gone, bones all reformed back into place. There were only a handful of scrapes, most of which had come from the forest rather than claws and teeth. He was shivering though, the change always making him colder than he normally felt, and James was immediately shifting into his own human body, scooping up Remus into a bridal hold as he made his way to the bed.

It creaked under them, threating to give way, though it never did. The blankets had been refreshed with a charm, the softest duvet Sirius had been able to find draped across the rest of their threadbare ones. Remus didn’t open his eyes, but let out a contented hum as he nuzzled into the covers, and a small smile curled upward along his lips as James settled next to him.

“Pads?” Remus asked hoarsely.

“I think she went for water,” James murmured. His fingers dug into Remus’ hair, pulling out bits of twig and leaves which he discarded to the floor. He pulled Remus in tighter, feathering his cheeks with kisses. “Was it alright?”

“Mm. Sore. We run far?” Remus asked.

“No more than usual, but you found the creek this time,” came a voice from the door. Sirius was there, a purple dressing gown draped round her shoulders. James knew she had on very little, if anything, underneath. She had a basket tucked under her arm though, and carefully extracted a couple of chilled water bottles.

James took one, holding it to Remus’ lips and he drank, a bit greedy and messy, but neither minded. Remus settled back into the pillows as Sirius checked the contents of their basket—enough food charmed to last through the afternoon so they wouldn’t have to get up, potions for Remus should he need them, and a few more shrunken blankets with heating charms if Remus’ body temperature couldn’t get under control.

James beckoned their lover over, and Sirius wasted no time shedding the dressing gown, and curling up against Remus’ back. She was mindful of the few scrapes, her fingers ghosting over them, lips following along the healed skin just under each gash. Remus winced, but smiled all the same as he’d done with the last nine moons they’d been together.

The duvet was pulled high up on their shoulders. The sun was just poking into the sky properly, a few rays filtering through the dusty window of their cottage James discovered in the middle of nowhere Cornwall—enough space for them to run, and a soft bed to land when it was all over.

Remus had been hesitant at first, shifting with his lovers who took on their animal forms. But once he realised he could do this, he could have his pack and company, and warm arms directly after the moon set, he knew that although he could live without it, he never wanted to.

Their relationship wasn’t always easy. Remus didn’t always feel like he fit in. There were times it felt like he’d always been there, and more bitter times when he was reminded what he’d been denied when their friends talked about their Hogwarts days.

But nothing was lacking now.

They loved each other for exactly who they were, and that was enough.

Closing his eyes, James leant in and brushed his lips across Remus’, then carefully hovered over to kiss Sirius, whose eyes were closing. Sirius gave a small hum of satisfaction as James settled down. Then, in the silence, Sirius’ less-than-trained voice began to sing a small tune.

“There were bells, on a hill, but I never heard them ringing, no I never heard them at all, til there was you.”

James smiled into his pillow, pushing closer to them both. “There were birds, in the sky, but I never saw them winging, no I never saw them at all, til there was you.”

There was a pause so long, James thought maybe they’d both fallen to sleep. Then, in that silence, Remus’ voice rose above them, gorgeous as ever, and warm and perfect. “Til…..there was you….”