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“And remember,” Slughorn drawls, “The lavender must be fresh!” He’s looking at Frank Longbottom rather pityingly, but does not single him out. For all his faults, he isn’t one to criticise openly if he can help it. He’d rather make friends.
“So, Moony,” Sirius says, casually, “You’re drinking it, aren't you?"
“What? Why me?” Remus huffs, annoyed. He’s always the Marauder Sirius tries to get to do things; get hung on Great Hall ceilings, try new spells, and anything else Peter’s too scared and Sirius and James are too clever to do themselves. He’s not having it, not in bloody potions class of all places. Sirius has practically brewed this whole thing himself, he can damn well drink it.
“You’re… You know…” Sirius makes a dismissive gesture with his hand.
Remus frowns. “What? I’m what?”
“Dunno. Sturdy?” Sirius tries with a shrug.
“Not doing it, you tosser. You drink it. You probably brewed it wrong.”
“Rock, paper, scissors?”
“Fine.”
“One… Two…”
Just as Remus forms his hand into a fist, Sirius shouts “Oi, what’s James doing to Snivellus?” and Remus makes the fatal mistake of looking towards Snape. “Three!” Sirius finishes counting. When Remus turns back to find Sirius’ hand spread out.
“You cheating bastard. That doesn’t count,” Remus complains, pulling his hand away.
“Not my fault you looked away, Lupin!” Sirius sing-songs, and goes back to stirring. The potion’s almost done, they have a minute on the hourglass, give or take.
“I hate you,” Remus sighs, but his heart’s not in it. What’s the harm, anyway? Sirius has done most of the work, and he’s good at potions. The potion they’ve made is a Clarity Potion, meant to help you focus. Not much harm to be done there. Maybe it’ll help Remus’ revision session later with Calum. That Ravenclaw boy’s always a step ahead.
Sirius is already packing by the time Remus takes a small spoonful — the recommended dose — of their potion. Not even looking Remus’ way. When he notices that Remus has taken the dose, he looks a tiny bit interested, and turns towards him. “Well?” he asks, looking away again, trying to find something or another in his bag. “Feel anything?”
“No,” Remus says, thoughtful. Shouldn’t he? He doesn’t feel any more intelligent, or focused. He starts packing as well, idly wondering if they’re meant to save the rest of the cauldron’s worth of potion, or vanish it.
When he lifts his head up, he sees a stranger next to him. He blinks in confusion.
The stranger nudges him.“Well? We’ll get marks on this, don’t hold out. Actually, do hold out, Moony. Just do the lot and stick my name on it.” The stranger sounds cocky and rather annoying, but that smile he uses to punctuate his irritating attitude explains why he probably gets away with that kind of attitude.
“Er,” Remus starts, unsure, “Who are you? And why’re you calling me Moony?”
A small line forms between the handsome boy’s perfect eyebrows — Does he pluck them? Remus wonders — and he stares at Remus, looking rather dumb-founded.
“Moony?” the boy says, slowly. “What are you on about?”
“Stop calling me that. It's weird, coming from a stranger.” Remus isn’t even sure why it bothers him, but it does. Nobody other than his close friends have ever tried to call him by his nickname, and it’s ticking him off that this bloke thinks he can just use it. Where does he get off thinking he can call me ‘Moony’? Probably heard Prongs saying it at breakfast, or something.
“I’m— Stranger? I’m not a stranger.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name.” Remus looks around. “The class is with Slytherin, so I guess you’re—” He stops short of calling the stranger a Slytherin, because — as lowly as it hangs — that’s a Gryffindor tie around his neck. Now Remus is really confused. “Honestly, who are you?”
“James,” the stranger calls out, turning to his right. “Moony’s gone…” He frowns at Remus for a moment before turning to James again. “Funny.”
James quickly makes his way to them, and looks between the two. “What?”
“He doesn’t know who we are,” the handsome stranger says to James.
“Mate?” James asks Remus, an edge of concern in his voice, despite the smile on his face. “You all right?”
“I'm fine. But this bloke just appeared next to me, and started calling me ‘Moony’. Did you put him up to this? Is this some sort of prank? It's not very funny.”
“What the fuck?” The stranger looks offended, and a little angry. “You remember James, but not me?”
“Serious, please stop shouting,” begs Peter from the side, looking nervously around them. Why he’s concerned over meaningless house points, Remus will never get.
“It’s OK, Peter,” Remus consoles him, despite his unflattering thoughts on his friend’s cowardice. Peter’s a good bloke, when it comes down to it, just easily scared. “Slughorn won’t dock points for one swearword.”
“Bloody hell!” the stranger yells, “You remember bloody Peter, and not me?”
“Please,” Peter squeaks, looking at Professor Slughorn, who is now headed their way with an unimpressed expression.
“Boys?” the professor demands when he’s close enough to be heard. “What seems to be the trouble?”
“Remus doesn’t remember me,” says the stranger. Serious, or whatever his name is, obviously that’s a nickname, Remus thinks.
“Curious,” Professor Slughorn mumbles, and looks at Remus, studying him. “You do not know who this young man is?” he asks, gesturing towards Serious. Remus shakes his head. “How interesting!” Professor Slughorn declares, eyebrows raised in interest. “You’ve forgotten the person you were brewing with. Tell me, was the flobberworm mucus properly viscous when you mixed it?”
Serious makes an odd noise, and they all turn to face him. He grunts and shrugs before answer. “Don’t think we added that one,” he says, after they all stare at him for a few seconds.
“Oh-ho!” the professor says, unconcerned. He sounds almost-happy. “What a lucky accident, my boy! You’ve made a Pondus Potion. How delightful!” He turns to the class. “Who can tell me what a Pondus Potion is?”
Lily Evans’ hand is in the air before he even finishes the question. He waves at her to answer. “It relieves stress. Commonly brewed for Aurors after battle. Rarely prescribed to civilians. Due to its addictive nature, and the fact that it is dangerously close to a sleeping draught.”
Professor Slughorn chuckles, obviously pleased with one of this star pupils hitting the mark once again. “Ten points to Gryffindor!”
Lily tries to hold back her grin, but her happiness is clear as day.
The Potions Master walks away almost immediately, no longer concerned with Remus, and it takes the stranger — Serious — a few moments to speak again. “Relieve stress.” He glares at Remus. “Forgetting me makes you less stressed?”
Remus averts his gaze, not knowing what to say. The way his friends and Serious are looking at him, he can tell that he’s meant to feel something, and he thinks he should maybe apologise but honestly, he can’t even imagine what he would apologise for. He doesn’t remember this boy, or whatever Remus might have done to offend him.
“I stress you out?” Serious demands, towering over Remus now. He hadn’t noticed that Serious was taller than him with a cauldron between them, but he sure looks intimidatingly big as he glares down at Remus.
“Serious, stop it,” James hisses, glancing at Lily Evans.
As quickly as he’d towered over Remus menacingly, Serious recoils. The change is so quick, Remus knows he should recognise this boy. Anybody this closely linked to James must have some sort of role in Remus’ life.
“He forgot about me!” Serious shouts at James, pointing at Remus. “Me! Because he took a stress potion!”
“Well, mate…” James scratches the back of his neck. “You’re not exactly a hot bath.”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Serious growls.
“You’re not always— Er— Soothing, are you? Nice?”
“I can be nice,” Serious says with a pout, eyes darting between James, Peter, and Remus. “I can be nice!” he repeats.
“Right,” James says, then clears his throat. “Well.”
“Oh piss off.” Serious walks off without another word, and doesn’t bother to help Remus with cleaning up what, apparently, was the potion they brewed together.
“What’s up his arse?” Remus asks, irritated.
James and Peter share a look, but don’t give Remus a verbal answer.
What a weird day, Remus thinks.
~
Over the next day and a half, they find out about a few more things Remus forgot about. He's oblivious to their looming Transfiguration exam the week after, as evidenced by a miffed Ravenclaw asking him where he'd been instead of revising in the library with him. He's also surprised by there being Maple syrup at breakfast, though none of them can begin to guess why that would stress out someone. They guess that it must have some sort of memory attached to it that they're forgetting, maybe from one of their food related pranks or fights. It is sticky and annoying to clean, even with magic.
Then, while they're killing time before dinner in the dorms, James suddenly gets up from the cushion on the floor, and sits on Remus' bed.
"Er, Moony," he hazards. "What are you doing next Saturday?"
Remus blinks at him a few times, feeling like a lazy owl. He doesn't think so, who plans that far ahead? Oh. "Did I forget about a prank?"
"Right." James sits up straighter. The look on his face can't be called anything but ominous. "Definitely not a prank," he says slowly. "You, um… Merlin, how do I even say this?" He turns to Serious. "You're the one who told him last time."
"I only told him that we knew. I wasn't bloody there when he was five," Serious says with a huff, refusing to look at Remus, much like he has been the whole day.
James sighs. "Right. There's no nice way to say this. You're a werewolf." He looks at Remus as if he's expecting a punch.
"A what?"
"Werewolf? We learned about them last month in Defence. Or do you not remember that class either?"
"Professor Husk was horrible to you," Peter laments.
"Right," Remus says, not remembering any of this, but somehow accepting it immediately.
"So you just remember him being an arsehole, just not why?" James asks, intrigued.
"I can't believe I forgot something like that. I don't remember it, but it feels true. It doesn't feel like when you joked about my affair with a girl called Myrtle."
"Some part of you remembers it," James reasons.
"Must do."
James turns to Sirius happily. "See, Padfoot? He's forgotten about more than just Transfiguration and your inbred face."
There's a beat of silence, and Remus is convinced Sirius won't answer, maybe wasn't even paying attention. But then, he speaks. "Yeah, ace. I'm as bad as something that crushes his bones once a month. Brilliant." He throws the Quidditch magazine he'd been browsing across the room, and leaves the room in a huff.
Remus gives James a look. "He's…something."
"Oh, you have no idea."
Remus looks at the empty bed Serious has left behind, and his eyes land on a half-written essay. Sirius Black is at the top right corner.
It's not a nickname, then, Remus realises, feeling a bit silly for not recognising it. He's half-Muggle and has grown up in a Muggle neighbourhood, so he thinks he can be forgiven for not thinking of stars as potential names.
~
On day three of his misfortune as Remus is calling it, finally something pleasant happens to take his mind off his brooding supposed friend, and constant worry about what if he's forgetting something important. Not to mention the imminent full moon. That's only a week and two days away, now…
"All right, Remus?" George, the Hufflepuff Chaser, asks him after class. They've spoken once or twice after being paired up in Charms, but Remus wouldn't call them friends.
"Oh, hi, George," he responds with a smile anyway. They talk for a minute while walking to lunch, the rest of the Marauders trailing a few feet behind them.
"Look, I meant to ask—" George starts when they enter the Great Hall, then glances back quickly at the others. "Fancy Hogsmeade, this weekend? You and me, I mean." He smiles, wide. Attractive.
"Oh. Um. Yeah, all right." Remus is surprised, but not unpleasantly so. He could do with a date, and George is fit, in both senses of the word.
When his friends catch up to him, Remus swears Sirius hits him with his shoulder, but he hasn't even spoken to him all day, could not have possibly offended him, so he convinces himself it's all in his head.
"That was a bit forward, wasn't it?" James comments, but nobody else says anything. It's not uncommon for James to pass judgement on Quidditch players. Remus reckons it's a weird athletic competitiveness manifestation.
~
Remus throws himself into a seat at the table with much more force than necessary. His arse sort of hurts. Whatever. Good, even. Merlin, he's so angry.
"Moony?" James asks, startled by his arrival. "Weren't we meeting up later—" He looks around as if to make sure no one's listening. "By the shack?"
"Didn't need the time," Remus says darkly. Indeed, he hadn't. Twat, he thought. At George, of course, not poor James. Well, he could be a twat too, what eighteen year old couldn't, but…
James gives Peter and Sirius a questioning look, but neither say anything. "All right then," he says slowly. "Want to finish off my butterbeer? Sirius was about to get another round."
Remus grabs the glass, but doesn't drink it. "Someone told him about the potion," he grits out. "George." He looks up from the glass to meet James' eyes. He looks peeved in Remus' stead already.
"And?"
"He thought…" Remus sighs. It feels a bit silly, he feels like a little kid, complaining about this. "He reckoned I'm more 'relaxed' now. Turns out he wasn't asking me to Hogsmeade for the conversation."
To Remus' annoyance, James looks annoyed but also a little… impressed? "Blimey," he says. "I mean, he's an arsehole for thinking that, but if you'd been up for it, you can't fault the efficiency."
Peter chuckles. Sirius makes some sort of noise akin to a growl, then signals the barmaid for another round.
"Doesn't have a beech wand, that one," Remus says, determined to show his friends just how stupid George had been. "Less stress doesn't mean I'm handing out blowjobs." Peter spits out the first sip of his fresh butterbeer, laughing.
"Good on you, mate," James grins. "Have standards." He looks Remus up and down meaningfully. "Even if that means you die a virgin. This is our last year, you know."
"I'm not a virgin," Remus says, confused. He blinks a few times, but he's pretty certain the potion hasn't added memories, so there's no reason to question the very clear memory he has of shagging plenty of times last summer with Michael.
"You're not?" Peter asks. Remus is both offended and flattered somehow, because Peter's looking at him with astonishment, but also marvel similar to how he looks at James.
"Er, no," he says, trying to remember if there was a reason he would've been hiding it from his friends. They obviously don't care that he's queer, and aren't the sort to care about Michael being a Muggle, so what would've been the issue?
Sirius' glass shatters, spilling his drink all over the table. "Something wrong with these glasses. I think Rosmerta's punishing me for not flirting with her. I'll go get another." He walks over to the bar, idly charming the area clean with a flick of his wand as he does.
Remus shrugs, and tells James and Peter about Michael a little, hoping he won't remember a horrible reason he'd kept it hidden, once the potion wears off.
~
By Sunday, Remus is quite ready for the potion to wear off, already. Sirius is too, and makes it overtly clear, much to James' amusement and Remus' confusion. It wouldn't be great if James forgot about Remus for a week, but Remus figures he'd get over it. It's not that big a deal, and only temporary. If anything, if Sirius really is a Marauder, he should be finding funny pranks to pull on Remus, not brooding like some Shakespearean tragedy's protagonist.
He's just coming back from checking his Herbology NEWT prep assignment in the green houses, when he hears Sirius complaining to James about it again. They don't even notice him come into the Common Room.
"How long does this bloody potion last? What if he's out there, and some other arsehole tries it on? Or worse, what if it's not out of his system by… by next week? That would be absolute hippogriff bollocks, going through for the first time all over again."
For the first time, Remus feels affection from the other boy. He sounds actually worried for Remus, not just miffed in a self-absorbed way. So far all complaints had been more 'but me? Sirius? How?' and less concern for his supposed friend. Now though, with his eyebrows are furrowed, he's looking at James with a bit of desperation, as if James can fix this somehow and protect Remus.
Not that Remus needs protection in general, but Sirius isn't wrong. It would be awful to transform into a wolf. Whether it's the potion's effect or his own avoidance, Remus hasn't been thinking about the full moon at all. Clearly, Sirius has. Because he's my friend, Remus thinks, fondly for the first time.
But it doesn't feel as right as all the other things he's forgotten and been re-told; the exams and the spells and the lycanthropy. It doesn't feel 'correct' the way the rest do. The shape of it is, he believes James and Peter's words that Sirius is one of them, but something doesn't 'click' the way other truths had.
As he ponders that, Peter finally takes notice of him. "Hullo Moony!" he calls out, waving him over to the couches.
"The Shrivelfig's all right," Remus tells Peter as he sits down next to him. "But it's your turn next time, it took bloody for ever to trim it."
"You've got it," Peter says, but Remus isn't really listening. From his peripheral vision, he can just about make out Sirius' concerned expression, and feels warmth in his chest from it, all the way down to—
Oh. Oh, no.
~
The full moon is, in fact, absolute hippogriff bollocks.
The transformation is awful and Remus almost wishes he could take the potion every month so at least he wouldn't live in fear of it the rest of the time. Being caught unawares isn't great, but now he's filled with dread not just of his recovery, but the repeat performance come next full moon. Is ignorance bliss?
There's also the fact that he now knows why he's forgotten Sirius, confirmed by the full moon they've spent together. Sirius' Animagus form is a large black dog, and he'd played with him all night, the wolf and the dog clicking naturally, sniffing each other, chasing hares, having a wonderful time, really. It's obvious that, once upon a time, Sirius and Remus had been playful too. Happy.
Then, whatever had happened had happened, and they'd broken up. Good for them that they'd managed to stay friends, but how incredibly awkward it must've been. Hence Remus' amnesia about it. Poor Sirius hasn't got that respite, just has to watch his ex-boyfriend blissfully unaware, going about his life happily.
I'll try to be kinder to him, Remus promises himself, and that must be the pain potions finally working. He still can't open his eyes, but can form coherent thoughts, at least.
There's some muffled argument going on just beyond his earshot, and he tries to pay attention but sleeps takes him.
When he wakes up, the first thing he hears is Madam Pomfrey sighing deeply, the way she often did when one of the Marauders came to her with an irreversible silly fall-out of a prank.
"I don't know," Professor Slughorn says, defiant. "The effects of Pondus shouldn't last more than a day. Two, if it's brewed particularly well." He pauses, and Remus forces his eyes to stay closed, hoping it looks natural. He can feel them looking at him, and wants to know what's really going on, before they sanitise the story for him.
"Must be his condition," Professor Slughorn concludes, less defiant and more pensive. "I'll try to brew up a solution. It doesn't have an antidote, see, because, well… Why would it?"
"Well, you best be off then," Madam Pomfrey says. "Let him rest."
"Yes. I don't think I'd need to ask him anything, but do let me know if it wears off."
"I will, Professor."
Remus tries to sleep.
~
His second time waking up is much more pleasant, because it's with three chocolate frogs on his blankets, right over his stomach, as if he might need directions. He smiles shakily. He's definitely still achy, but well enough to feel peckish.
He tilts his head to see Sirius sitting next to him on a chair, looking at Remus expectantly. He's pale, and his jaw's set in obvious concern. Sweet of him, Remus thinks, and tries to smile bigger. Sirius doesn't seem appeased.
"Ta. They're my favourite," Remus says.
"I know," Sirius sighs.
Right, of course he would.
"I spoke to Lily," Remus says, unwrapping the first frog, "She said she wasn't surprised that I didn't remember you."
"She did, did she?" Sirius says. The anger of the past week and a half is gone, Sirius just seems resigned, now. He looks away from Remus and at his blankets instead, maybe counting the squares on it. Remus wonders how he remembers a habit of Sirius' like that, but nothing of consequence.
"Why does it bother you this much that I don't remember you? They'll get an antidote soon, and then we'll be back on equal footing."
Sirius' eyes dart back onto him, sharp. Reminds Remus eerily of Malfoy, actually. Sirius opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. He gets off of the chair, and comes close enough to Remus' face to almost kiss him. Remus swallows his bite of chocolate, and looks at him, expectantly.
"Equal footing," he repeats bitterly. Obviously kissing isn't what's on his mind. His proximity is more about intimidation. Though why he needs to intimidate a thoroughly disadvantaged werewolf barely sitting up on his hospital bed, Remus doesn't know. Just how bad was their break-up? "We've never been on equal footing."
Remus takes a few seconds to ponder this, turn the thought over in his head, think about the consequences. He leans in to close the distance between them, and kisses Sirius.
For all his supposed bitterness and worry about his hurt friend, Sirius doesn't take but a moment to respond back. He puts his left hand into Remus' curls and pulls him by the neck, and Remus runs his own free hand across Sirius' side. Oh, this feels brilliant. Why oh why would they stop this? It feels so natural, so good. Obviously chemistry isn't why they stopped.
Eventually, Remus winces from the pain of being twisted to the side, and Sirius steps back immediately.
Remus is grinning ear to ear. "Well. That was brilliant. Let's do more of that." He winces again as he settles back. "Maybe in a few hours, when I've healed up a bit more."
Sirius' matching grin drops. He looks resigned, again, and sighs. "No. No, Moony— Remus. We can't."
"Why not?" Surely whatever the break-up was about, it couldn't have been bad enough to stop something so damn good, could it? Did Remus cheat? But he can't fathom that, just look at Sirius, and how amazing that kiss was.
Sirius looks at him curiously, as if weighing whether or not to tell him. "Whatever I did to you, apparently I was a big enough arsehole that you'd rather forget." His eyes dart away but then land back on Remus'. "You wouldn't want this, if you could remember."
"You don't know that," Remus reasons. "You're just guessing." He knows, absolutely knows, that if Sirius had tried to get back together before the potion, Remus had not stopped him. There's just no way.
Sirius shakes his head with a sad smile. "I don't even know what I did," he says. "If I did I could tell you if you're being dramatic, but I don't. And that's worse, isn't it?"
"But I want this now," Remus insists. Then changes tactics. "Besides, I might never get those memories back. Slughorn was here earlier, he hasn't a clue why the potion hasn't worn off long ago. Thinks maybe it's because I'm a werewolf. There's no antidote." Sirius is looking at Remus, shocked. "He's trying to come up with something," Remus tries to comfort him. "But if he can't…"
Sirius gives him that curious look again, and they're quiet for a minute. Then, slowly, Sirius starts smiling. "All right," he says, softer than Remus has ever heard him speak. "I'll stay." He then gives Remus a quick peck on the lips, hesitant. "All right. And when you get your memories back… Remember that you asked." He kisses Remus again, a bit more than the previous peck, but still not enough. Then he sits back down, much to Remus' disappointment, and grabs a quill Remus hadn't noticed before. "I've got your Charms essay. You were almost done, I'm finishing it off."
Right, Charms on Tuesday. Remus smiles at his thoughtful friend, counting down the hours until he can kiss him again.
~
Remus is released from the hospital wing just before dinner, but his stomach isn't quite up to it, so he goes back to the dormitory. He's reading in his bed when his friends come in.
"Back already? Brilliant," James says, and starts walking towards the loo. "I drew the short straw, was not looking forward to taking notes for you all bloody Monday." He pauses, and looks back at Remus. "No offence, mate."
Remus waves him off, not looking up from his book. He continues looking down as Peter greets him, but he's not reading anymore. No, he's listening to Sirius walk closer until he sees Sirius' shadow by his bed. The smile spreading across his face is completely involuntary. Sirius nudges Remus' bed with his knee.
"Got room up there?"
He gets on Remus' bed, who doesn't even think to complain about Sirius' dirty robes on it, and draws the curtains shut.
"Well," Remus says, and puts his book aside with a feather bookmark between the pages. "I'm all healed up."
Sirius' grin back is wicked, and they spend the next hour snogging until their stubbles have left scratches all over their faces and necks, and their lips are too swollen to continue. Sirius' grin when they do finally stop, breathless, is positively sinful. He's always been handsome, of course, but he looks so sexy like this, Remus doesn't know what to do with himself. How long, he wonders, does he have to wait for more? They've already done everything, presumably, so how long is the appropriate time to wait to do it again?
Sirius gives the curtains a look when James walks back into the room and asks Peter about his Quaffle. He looks back at Remus. "Let's not tell them," he says urgently. "Not until you have your memories back."
"Why?" Remus asks, hurt at being a secret.
"Prongs might kill me," Sirius says solemnly. "I told you, you wouldn't want this if you remembered me."
"And if I never remember?" Remus presses.
"You will," Sirius says, and it's hard to tell if he's sad or happy about it. Then he grins, and leans down to kiss Remus again.
The next two days continue much the same, Sirius and Remus kissing whenever they have a private moment, and the kisses are so good that Remus feels drunk half the time. He feels thoroughly infatuated, wondering if this is how it felt when they first got together. Everything feels electric. Their thighs touching during class, Sirius licking maple syrup from this thumb as he offers Remus a pancake, Remus sneaking into Sirius' shower when James and Peter are out on the Quidditch pitch,… It feels amazing.
By Wednesday, Remus doesn't much care if he ever gets his memories back. He's given up on focusing on the antidote. It really doesn't seem like he's forgotten anything he'd want to remember. There have been more mishaps about forgotten revision plans or exams, or arseholes trying to pull jokes on him hoping he won't be wise enough. And best of all, he has Sirius. He'd clearly lost him, for whatever reason, and now he hasn't. It's like a Time-Turner, but even better, because whatever the fight was, it's been completely erased, not just barely avoided.
Sirius catches Remus staring, starry eyed, while Husk drones on about Concealment charms, and winks at Remus. Remus almost sighs like a heroine in a play.
Right then, Professor Slughorn enters the classroom, and asks to speak to Remus immediately. He steps out of the classroom, and Slughorn only takes a few steps away from the door before starting to talk.
Turns out there's an antidote. But the catch — there's always a catch to things, in Remus' life — is that he'll forget everything he's experienced since he's taken the Pondus potion. "It's a reversal spell of sorts, rather than an antidote proper. It doesn't really undo anything the potion already has done," Slughorn tries to explain. Something about changing the brain chemistry. Goes over Remus' head, he doesn't even know why he's ever signed up for NEWT level potions.
"I did confirm," Slughorn continues as Remus' eyes re-focus on him. "That there are no ill effects, whether you take this or not. I wrote to a couple of colleagues, and we all agree. I know this is an important year, and if you would rather not lose two weeks of classes, you needn't take it." He hands over a small vial.
It looks so innocent, only half of it full, maybe two sips. It's a purple-ish pink, and seems to have the consistency of lemonade. Remus shakes it in his hand a little, feeling the weight of the glass in his hand. The weight of the decision.
"Thank you, sir," he says, and pockets it. "Is that all?"
Slughorn is quiet for a moment, as if he wants to say more. Then he nods. "Yes, my boy. You're very welcome, of course."
His friends are obviously curious as he re-enters the classroom, but he doesn't say anything, just sits down and tries to listen to the lecture. As soon as Husk dismisses the class, James asks "Well?"
Remus nods, and shows them the vial. He explains, as they're walking to the next class in the green houses, what Slughorn told them. James and Peter seem to actually consider whether two weeks of classes matter, making a few comments and jokes. Sirius is quiet, watching Remus, almost as if he's trying to guess which way Remus' decision will go.
There is no decision, really. Remus wants to keep Sirius.
When Sirius sneaks into his bed that night, he stops Remus from kissing him immediately, and sighs. "Remus. The antidote, you're taking it, yeah?" He looks around as if for the vial. Remus doesn't bother correcting him that it's not really an antidote.
"No," he says, and shakes his head. "It's in my trunk. Didn't want to chuck it. Might give it back to Slughorn." He looks away from Sirius' disappointed eyes. Did Sirius want them to stop? Has this been an elaborate favour for his ex, one he's happy to drop soon?
"You should take it," Sirius says gently, almost a whisper.
"What? Why?"
Sirius tilts Remus' chin up to make sure their eyes meet. "Why not?" And oh, he knows, doesn't he? He knows exactly why Remus doesn't want to, and how it has nothing to do with classes.
"You," Remus confirms. To hell with shyness and caution. "I don't want to lose this again."
At that, Sirius seems startled. "Again?"
"Obviously we— We broke up, or whatever." Remus doesn't look away, even though he's dying to. "If I forget, we'll go back to being broken up again."
"Remus," Sirius gasps more than says. "We weren't— We never—" He gets up half-way, one foot outside of the bed, the other with its knee on the blankets. "We didn't break up."
Remus motions him back in, because quiet as they are, they'll be heard beyond the silencing charms of the curtains. Sirius obeys, but sits as far as he can.
"We didn't?" Remus asks, confused. "But…"
"We'd have to be together to break up," Sirius says matter-of-factly.
Remus tries to make sense of the last week as his version of events has shifted once more. "But then why…"
"Why did you think we had?" Sirius asks, curious.
Remus shrugs. "It just…" Why had he? He can't remember. "It felt right, being together, but we weren't, and I'd forgotten you, so I thought…"
"That we'd had a bad break-up," Sirius concludes. He hums, and his body relaxes a bit, one knee coming up to support his chin. "Fair assumption, I suppose."
Part of Remus is embarrassed that he'd made such an assumption — but it had felt so right — and another is hopeful. The nonexistent past relationship might make a future one possible. Maybe this potion's been a blessing in disguise, despite the annoyances.
"I won't remember some horrid fight, then," Remus says, excited. He looks towards where his trunk is, beyond the curtains. Then he frowns. "But we weren't together…"
"And you forgot about me," Sirius says, finding the conclusion to this statement as well.
If Remus takes the potion, they won't be together.
"I don't need to take it," Remus says. "Slughorn said so. So I won't."
"It doesn't make sense not to. Besides, there could be more things you don't remember. And you saw what the full moon was like…" He shakes his head. "You should take it."
"But…" Remus doesn't have a comeback to that. Sirius is right, of course he is. It doesn't change the fact that Remus simply doesn't want to. "I want to keep doing this." He kisses Sirius, who doesn't quite kiss back.
"We can kiss when you remember me again," Sirius lies. "We can't relive seven years of friendship."
He makes a quick but firm decision. "Will you tell me? After?"
Sirius seems surprised, again. "Tell you?"
"After. When I've forgotten all this. Tell me we kissed."
"You wouldn't want me to," Sirius says, and although Remus has only know him for a couple of weeks, he can feel this desperation is unnatural on him. He wants to soothe him, to tell him Remus will always want him, but he doesn't know that.
"Promise me. Please."
"Fine," Sirius grits out, as if the word costs him. "But if you hex me, I'm hexing you right back."
~
Getting his memories back is very anticlimactic. He takes the vial right before dinner, to give himself a distraction. They explain why he's suddenly been 'transported' from the potions classroom to the dormitory, then they go down to eat. James claims Remus looks older, somehow, and Remus knocks over his pumpkin juice in retaliation.
He doesn't feel any different, though how would he know, really? It's a bit eerie to have no recollection of so many days, but he can't say he'll miss the memory of what they told him was a particularly unpleasant full moon. It's vaguely annoying to be unsure of the longer term assignments' progress, but within a few days he's all caught up.
The only thing out of place is how nice Sirius is being, really. He offers to carry Remus' books a few times, and hasn't called him a swot or insufferable git once. And today, he's opted out of watching James' Quidditch practice, and is instead reading quietly next to Remus in the Common Room.
"Sirius," he says, and Sirius' head immediately snaps back up, as if he'd been Padfoot, waiting for a command. Actually, even Padfoot doesn't act so dog-like. "Was the full moon that bad?"
Sirius blinks rapidly a few times, and puts his book down. "Er. No?"
"You don't sound sure." Remus can tell he's hiding something, but not what. He narrows his eyes. "What happened?"
"What're you on about?" Sirius lies, poorly. He's never been a great liar, but he's charming enough that people just allow his lies. Not Remus. Not in this particular instance, anyway.
"You haven't knocked over my food, or hexed my arse in the middle of class, or any number of annoying inclinations you have against me ONCE last couple of days."
"It's nothing!" Sirius huffs, then starts pacing around the red carpet between their beds.
"Sirius—" Remus starts, but his friend just turns around and leaves the room, clearly done with this conversation. He keeps odd company. And that's saying a lot, since he's a werewolf himself.
~
"He's acting weird, isn't he?" Remus asks James. James looks over at Sirius, humming as if he's considering Remus' words. Sirius, for his part, is almost out of the Common Room, on his way to get some snacks.
"He's always hungry at the oddest times," Peter says with a shrug, unbothered. "Dunno why he'd go for porridge in the middle of the night, though."
Remus does. It's because Remus likes that, sometimes, when he can't sleep. Sirius is still being incredibly nice to Remus. And incredible is the exact right word for it; Remus isn't buying it. Did Sirius do something awful to him, and is now guilt-ridden? That doesn't sound like Sirius, but what else could this mean?
He nudges James. "You're the Sirius expert."
"I think," James says slowly, but Remus doesn't think James has to think much. He's quite sure James has worked it all out already, just not willing to share with Remus. "He really hated it when you forgot about him."
"Oh," Remus says. That's a reasonable explanation, isn't it? He's not sure why he'd been so ready to blame Sirius instead of thinking of a more charitable explanation. He frowns. With Sirius, it's never the charitable explanation. "He charmed my pants off in the middle of Great Hall, didn't he?" he says, then purses his lips. Whatever he's done, it must've been bad.
James laughs, shaking his head. "Nothing improper, honest." He's grinning as he nudges Remus back with his shoulder. "At least none that I saw. You did seem to be spending a lot of time together, the last week."
Remus chews on that thought a bit, wondering what that could mean. "Planning a prank?" he asks out loud, not really believing that. Even if it was a prank on James, there's no reason Sirius wouldn't share that after, or feel bad about it.
Sirius comes back with four bowls of porridge. James makes gagging noises and turns away. Peter eats a couple spoonfuls, and Remus and Sirius make short work of the rest. Merlin bless house-elves that can compete with teenage hunger.
Eventually they retreat into the dorm, and Remus almost expects Sirius to come by with a pair of slippers when he's done brushing his teeth. But his eerily nice friend is not even in the dorm at all, when Remus makes his way to his bed. Two hours later, Remus is woken up by Sirius climbing into his bed, gingerly sitting on the edge of it.
"What?" he mumbles, trying to make out which of his friends is waking him up. When he realises it's Sirius, his chest tightens, but despite the inescapable fear of having him so close, Remus finds himself giving him a sleepy smile. "Everything all right?"
"Look. You asked for this. It is your fault."
"What?" Remus asks again, rubbing his eyes, feeling more awake now. He takes in Sirius' expression and nervous posture, which sobers him up even more. "Padfoot. What's wrong?"
"You made me promise," Sirius hisses. "You're an awful friend, you know."
"Padfoot, I have no idea what you're on about. I made you promise what?" He chooses to ignore the awful friend bit, because he patently is not.
"You made me promise to tell you," Sirius says, arms crossed across his chest. He gives Remus an odd look as Remus sits up. "We…"
Remus waits quietly, trying to guess why he'd forget making Sirius promise something, let alone—
Oh. He gulps, wondering if it's audible to Sirius. Here it comes. Whatever horrid thing he did, he's coming clean. He wonders if pastors at his mum's church feel this way when awaiting a confession in the booth.
"We kissed."
Well, that's not what I was expecting. At all.
"You didn't bloody remember me, and we kissed," Sirius says, his voice an irritated hiss again. It takes Remus a (sleepy) moment to catch on to why Sirius sounds like he's scolding Remus.
"Oh, did I— Merlin and Circe. Sirius, I am so sorry." He must be the colour of a ripe beet, but thankfully it's dark enough that Sirius can't see. Right? He resists the urge to look around and see how bright the moon is to guess what a non-werewolf might be seeing right now.
"You're sorry?" Sirius says, no longer angry. He sounds confused, maybe a little sad.
"I must've— Maybe forgetting who you are made me bolder, and I…" he lets his voice trail off, and sighs. He rubs at his eyes again. "I'm sorry, Padfoot."
"Bolder? You've wanted to kiss me before?"
Now it's Remus' turn to be angry. What's Sirius doing, playing daft? "Don't be obtuse. I'm not going to inflate your ego, just go look in a mirror." He has half a mind to just lie back down and pretend to sleep. He can probably fake a good snore.
"Well yeah, but…" Sirius seems at a loss for words, which abates Remus' anger a little. Has Sirius truly never noticed? Remus didn't think he's been doing that good a job of hiding his crush. He just reckoned Sirius didn't mind the extra attention. "You know me. And I stressed you out so much with my arseholery that you forgot about me when you took the Pondus potion."
Remus is silent for an uncomfortable amount of time, but Sirius, against all odds, just waits quietly. "You kissed me back?"
"Of course I did!" Sirius makes a sound between a growl and a sigh. "I told you you wouldn't want to kiss me, but you insisted you did."
"James said I look older," Remus says, only knowing what he's saying as the words start to spill out. "Do you want to kiss the Remus that remembers every stressful part of his life?" It's a fair question, he thinks.
"Of course," Sirius says and oh, he sounds so earnest, so willing. His hands fist over his knees, as if he's about to jump Remus there and then.
Remus helps him out by crawling over and kissing him soundly on the lips.
"Remus what—" Sirius starts against his lips, but can't stop kissing back long enough to finish the sentence.
After a few moments, Remus pulls back with a wide grin. "You daft bastard," Remus laughs. "I've wanted to kiss you for three years."
"But you forgot about me, you were happier…" Sirius, never one to deny himself anything, is holding back and Remus wants to kiss him all over again for how sweet he's being. But they have to clear up this tremendous misunderstanding first.
"Sirius. I wasn't stressed because you were an arsehole. And I wasn't happier when I forgot about you, either. More relaxed, maybe."
"You were," Sirius insists. "You were still you, just… happier."
"In what universe would I still be me if I didn't remember you?" Remus asks, voice rising a bit, uncontrolled.
Sirius considers this. "James is right, though. I'm an arsehole to you. Even you cottoned on quick when I stopped hassling you, after."
"I mean, you are, but that doesn't stress me." He just cannot stop smiling like a drunk with a head injury. Sirius is frowning at him, but it doesn't matter. He wants me he wants me he wants me he keeps chanting in his head. He raises his eyebrows in question. Surely Sirius is smart enough to get it by now.
"Then wh—" Sirius starts, then just looks at Remus, who's closing the distance between them further, inches away now. "Oh," he repeats, then raises his own eyebrows. "Oh."
Remus decides to spell it out for him, just in case. "I was stressed because I didn't think you wanted me."
They kiss again, and this time Sirius has no hesitation at all, they're tangled in the sheets — quite literally, they're going to need to sort that soon — and moaning. Remus can't believe they've done this and he doesn't remember at all. Sirius is even rubbing his thumb along Remus' nape just the way he loves, Remus is at such a disadvantage, but it's hard to care when it feels this good.
"Three years we could've been doing this," Sirius breathes out when they take a break.
"You too?" Remus asks, incredulous.
"Well, closer to two for me. But if you'd told me, if you'd kissed me… I would've been right there with you, Moony." He kisses him again, quick and dirty and oh they need to do more of this. Every day. "Especially," Sirius says then, "If you'd shown me that trick of yours, when you went down on me."
"I gave you a blow job?" Remus says, staring down at Sirius' crotch as if the evidence would be visible now.
"Oh yeah," Sirius says with a smirk. "Loved it, too. Never would've guessed you were such an addict. Couldn't keep you off it."
Finally it dawns on Remus that he's having him on. "You are an arsehole," he laughs. Sirius laughs back, and they kiss until they fall asleep, just before dawn.