Chapter Text
Sirius’ head throbbed, but he shuffled out of the room and followed Remus into the hall. Remus noticed him and sighed.
“Sirius, go back to bed, please. I’ll bring you something to eat, but you need rest.”
Sirius stumbled forward and rested his head on Remus’ chest.
Remus glanced around nervously.
“Moony…” Sirius whined, “My head hurts,” he said, bringing his eyes level with Remus’s.
Remus let out a breath before grabbing Sirius’ wrists and stepping away gently.
“Go back to bed, I’ll be back soon.” he said, and watched Sirius turn around and pout back to the room they shared.
*
That night, Sirius was feeling better. He had gotten some rest, much to Remus’ relief. They had both been forced to attend a rather stuffy Order of the Phoenix meeting after dinner, much to Sirius’ annoyance. He barely managed to sit through the meeting knowing that he was forbidden from telling his godson about any of it—especially considering most of the conversation concerned him.
Sirius and Remus were in bed now. Some might think it was weird to share a bed with your friend, but neither Sirius nor Remus had objected when Molly realized the shortage of bedrooms in Grimmauld Place. It was an unspoken agreement between them, of sorts.
Remus rolled over to face Sirius, his eyes closed.
Sirius found his eyes wandering around Remus’ face curiously.
Sirius’ eyes flickered from Remus' sharp jawline to the white scars that ran across his nose and down his neck. They found his wavy brown hair, which lacked its usual uniformity and now fell in unruly strands across his face.
Sirius felt something twist inside himself.
“You’re pretty,” he blurted out.
Remus opened his eyes slowly, almost unsure that he had heard Sirius correctly.
“What’d you say?” he asked, not a touch of grogginess in his tone.
“I said you’re pretty,” muttered Sirius.
Remus stared at him, and Sirius felt as though he could see through his soul.
“G’night,” Sirius said hastily, and rolled over to face the wall.
Stupid Remus and his prettiness, Sirius thought to himself.
Then, through the darkness, there was a whisper.
“I think you’re pretty, too.”
Sirius’ breath caught. Had Remus Lupin just called him pretty?
He felt a hand on his shoulder. Remus’ hand rested there for just a moment—a warm, hopeful moment—before retreating back to his side.
“Good night, Sirius,” Remus whispered.
“G’night, Moony.” responded Sirius.
*
Sirius could tell from the lack of warmth in the bed that Remus had already gone downstairs to breakfast. He took his time getting up, knowing there would likely be a crowd at breakfast and not feeling eager to socialize so early in the morning.
When he did arrive in the kitchen, Molly Weasley was bustling around, preparing food. She glanced up.
“Anything I can get you, Sirius?”
He shook his head.
“Remus and the kids are in there,” she said, nodding in the direction of the drawing room.
Sirius heard chatter and stepped inside, but felt an unpleasant wave of recognition wash over him as he observed the room identical to how it was when he was a child. It seemed to be a time capsule, but Sirius shook away the memories that attempted to return.
Remus’ sudden laugh warmed something inside him.
“Ah, Sirius,” Remus said, noticing him, “I was just telling these three-” he gestured to Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were sitting on the sofa opposite him, “-some tales from our time at Hogwarts! Crazy to think back, now…Do you remember fifth year?”
Did- was Remus joking?
Sirius remembered fifth year all too well.
He remembered the pain inflicted on him in this very house. He remembered fighting with James, and the months when they weren’t talking. That was when he got close with Remus—when he first felt it.
That was the year everything had begun to unravel.
Remus realized where Sirius’ mind had gone, but it was too late to fix it. He tried anyway.
“Anyways, we had fun times that year! Fun times, right Sirius?” Remus looked at him hopefully.
“Y-yeah, fun times…” Sirius managed, but his face was pale and his hands were trembling slightly.
Harry jumped up. “Sirius! Are you okay? Here, Professor, help him-”
Sirius pulled away as Remus reached out to steady him.
“I-I’m fine…” his legs wobbled, and he fell forward.
Remus caught him.
Harry stood there silently, staring at his godfather with shock and concern.
“He’ll be alright, Harry, don’t worry-” Remus adjusted and slung his arms around Sirius’ shoulder, “-he just needs a minute to breathe,” Remus said, struggling to hold Sirius up. Remus knew it was more than that—that Sirius would need more than a minute— but he didn’t want to worry the kids.
Remus managed to support Sirius’ weight as his breathing came fast and unsteady. His hands were shaking.
Remus knew he couldn’t drag Sirius up the staircase, so he let him down on the bottom step and crouched by his side. Sirius’ face was unnaturally pale and beads of sweat formed on his temple. His trembling hands were clenched in fists of his robes.
Remus grabbed his hands and squeezed them.
“Shh, Sirius. It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re safe.”
Sirius looked at Remus, but his gaze was distant and fearful. Remus knew of the horrors he must’ve been remembering.
The portrait of Walburga Black screeched from somewhere above them. Remus cursed.
Sirius’ eyes went wide with panic as he wrenched his hands away from Remus and tugged on his own clothing frantically.
“NO! No, no no no no no-”
“Sirius, please! You’re safe, everyone’s safe! I’m here, Sirius, please-” Remus begged.
Sirius looked up at him. Something in his expression shifted, and his eyes refocused. He leaned into Remus’ arms, unaware of how it caused Remus' stomach to knot.
“There. Deep breaths, Sirius. Just breathe,” Remus whispered. Sirius took a deep breath, and another. His heart rate slowed. He squeezed Remus’ hand.
“Thank you,” Sirius whispered.
Remus let out a breath.
“Shh. I’ll help you upstairs.”
Sirius laid on the bed as Remus sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry,” Sirius said softly, a trace of fear behind his words.
Remus shook his head.
“I needed you to be alright, Sirius. You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” Sirius said again. Remus put a hand on his shoulder.
“No. It’s my fault for bringing up-” he glanced at Sirius, “-for bringing that up. I didn’t think about what it meant for you.”
Sirius sucked in a breath. Tears pricked his eyes.
“I thought I had moved on; that it didn’t affect me anymore. It’s so hard to be here, Remus. It’s just…it’s so hard.” Remus nodded understandingly. “Do you…do you remember fifth year?” Sirius asked.
Remus looked away.
“Yeah, I do.”
“And do you remember-”
“Yeah. I do.” Remus answered. He knew what Sirius was referring to. He knew why it hurt.
There was silence as Remus avoided Sirius’ gaze.
“We should go down to breakfast, if it’s alright with you,” Remus said, pulling his hand away.
“Yeah, we should.”