Remus laid there in the dark. Peter was beside him, only his head visible over the top of his sleeping bag. Every now and again, he would twitch his nose and let out a tiny, rather pathetic snore before settling back down once more to sleep. How long Remus had been lying there, staring up at the patterns that the shadow of the trees outside made across the ceiling, he could not be sure. Shifting carefully, so as to not wake Peter beside him, Remus lifted his arm so that his wristwatch was better visible in the pale light from outside. It was a quarter to twelve; so much for staying up and seeing in the New Year in style.
Slowly, Remus began to kick his own sleeping bag from his feet, sitting up and rubbing his eyes before gazing about the room. In the dark, he could just about make out James, who had fallen asleep in the wicker chair rather than returning to his own bedroom on the floor below. He was still fully clothed; his glasses were bending across his nose due to the pressure of leaning against the side of the chair. Even the cup he had been drinking from was balanced carefully on the arm. It was almost as if he had not moved since he had sat down hours ago.
Remus sat up, craning his neck to make out the sleeping form of Sirius on the opposite side of the room frozen beneath the many blankets he had collected from the room he now shared with James. How could they all sleep, Remus wondered, suddenly aware of how cold it was in the attic room as he stood up, leaving the warmth of the bedding that was strewn across the floor. How could they just ignore the accusations that James had levelled at all of them; accusations that, however much it pained Remus to admit it, were true? It had hurt to hear what James had to say with the confidence of alcohol pushing him onwards. Had he only said these things because of the Firewhiskey? Or was this what James really believed? Remus reached down and with one, brisk tug managed to prise his jumper from underneath Peter’s head without waking him. It had been hard to hear James say the things that Remus had known; things he too had recognised in his friends and yet, for some reason, things he always chose to ignore. Was it his place to tell Peter that his lack of confidence could be manipulated in far more dangerous ways than ever it was by the Marauders? Was it really his place to tell Sirius that maybe if he allowed himself to feel, he would, perhaps, better understand the feelings of others? Remus shivered as he pulled on the jumper he had just retrieved, and he began to cautiously pick his way amongst his friends in an attempt to reach the bathroom without waking them. He felt, for one horrible moment, like he he was going to be sick.
It was even darker in the bathroom than it had been in the attic room; even darker than it had been on the landing Remus had reached after carefully climbing down the rickety ladder. In this bathroom, there appeared to be no window; no way of letting in the blackish light from outside. Remus felt along the walls and yet he could not find the light switch. Damn it, he thought, as he realised he had left his wand upstairs. But even as he thought it, a shimmering, pale blue light began to very gradually melt through the blackness, and Remus started as he saw Sirius sitting cross-legged in the bathtub.
“I didn’t know you were so good at non-verbal magic,” Remus said, finding the light switch in the blue light and turning it on.
Sirius shrugged and lowered his wand. “I’ve been practising.”
Remus nodded and moved to the sink, turning the taps and filling the basin with warm water. The nausea had left him but he still felt cold, and his stomach seemed to be gripped with the words James had spoken. His reflection seemed haggard in the mirror; his eyes were circled with black as if the fatigue of the flight here had only just hit him. Behind him, Remus watched as Sirius tilted his head back, pressing it against the white tiles as he began solemnly, “I couldn’t sleep…not after all that stuff James said…”
“Me neither,” Remus said, turning to face his friend.
Sirius smiled and shrugged, exhaling deeply before he looked down into the bath in which he was sitting. “What do you think, Moony? Do you think I…” Sirius stopped, his smile disappearing as he began to idly trace patterns in the enamel with the tip of his wand. Remus said nothing, waiting for Sirius to continue; waiting for him to say something to him after what felt like months of silence. Sirius suddenly looked up, the false smile returning as he said quickly, “I know James was pissed and that he probably won’t remember half of what he said in the morning, but I just didn’t like hearing all that.”
Remus turned away and plunged his hands into the warm water, splashing his face and running his wet hands through his hair. Beads of water ran down the back of his neck as he repeated this action before pulling the plug and, after grabbing the towel from the rail, he turned to dry his face just in time to see what looked like tears being wiped away from Sirius’ face.
“I know I might not be good with saying what I mean but it’s not because I don’t feel, Remus, you’ve got to understand that. I know I can be an insensitive git sometimes, but it’s not because I don’t understand.” Remus nodded, finding it impossible to tell whether or not, in the brief moments it had taken to wash his face, Sirius had, indeed, been crying. He, of course, would never ask, and Sirius would never tell. “And I do love…” Sirius’ voice had lost some of the forced assurance of before as he continued, “I love Peter and James. I love James more than any member of my sodding family. And I love…” Remus had frozen by the wash basin, the towel still in his hand as he watched Sirius struggle with the words. Sirius had looked up as he had broken his speech and was now looking at Remus as if he couldn’t bring himself to say what he wanted to. He blushed, laughing with an air of false confidence that told Remus that he was not going to say what he had originally intended to. “I love all of you and I would do anything for any one of you. I just…I’m just not good at…”
“I know,” Remus said, smiling reassuringly. Sirius sighed, his hands flopping over the sides of the tub; he seemed to be thinking to himself.
“I know what James said about me is true,” Remus began, uncertain as to whether or not Sirius would want to hear what he had to say. Yet Sirius did not move and did not mock, so, taking this as a cue to carry on, Remus replaced the towel before continuing, “I know I’ll never be happy…not really happy, Padfoot, not as happy as I’d want to be. It’s just not an option for me.”
Sirius scoffed, although not unkindly, and Remus looked down at the cold bathroom floor and said, “It’s alright though, it really is. I’m used to the idea by now. I listen to James go on about Lily and I’m not jealous, really I’m not. I don’t even want that…really…” Remus’ voice faltered as he spoke the lie. If Sirius looked up, he would see in Remus’ face that it was all untrue. Yet Sirius did not move; he was listening, really listening, for once. “Besides, I don’t think I really have it in me to be that close to anyone. It’s not something I’ve had a lot of practice at.”
“That’s complete and utter bollocks, Moony, and you know it is.” Sirius had now stepped out of the bath and was sitting on the side of it, his voice shaking with anger. “You’re someone who understands other people, you get it…you just seem to think you don’t. I think that you have it in you to be just as happy as James or as anyone, but it’s like James said, you’re just scared. But you shouldn’t be, Remus, you really shouldn’t, because - if you can find three boys at Hogwarts who can see past your furry little problem, then I’m sure that there’s a girl out there that can too.”
“Is that what you really think?” Remus could hardly believe what Sirius was saying, and yet it had to be true. Sirius stood and closed the distance between them, his voice impatient as he replied, “Of course that’s what I think, Moony. Don’t I always tell you what I think?”
“No…not always…” the words had passed his lips before he even had time to consider them and now, Sirius was studying Remus’ face closely, almost as if he expected more words to come. Remus remained silent, gagged by the fact that he hadn’t really understood what he had said himself. After what seemed like forever, Sirius took a step back and, after giving a casual smirk, he reached down to take Remus’ hand. Remus’ heart seemed to thud in his ears as he felt Sirius’ fingertips, rough from the hours of Quidditch practice, brush gently against his own. It was odd, it was almost too brisk, and as Sirius raised their hands, twisting Remus’ in his own, Remus found himself suddenly reminded of the way he had felt with Eleanor’s hand in his. Then, the gesture had been hurried and guilty, whereas this gesture felt slow and strangely intimate; the repeat of a gesture that had happened many times before. Sirius read the time and dropped Remus’ hand and, automatically, Remus wiped his hand on the side of his leg as if to rid himself of the uncomfortable, prickling sensation he felt.
Completely oblivious, Sirius laughed, tossing his head back and saying, “So much for some wild New Year’s Eve.” The laughter stopped and Sirius moved to the door, twisting the handle and pulling it partially open as if to walk out. Yet something stopped him and as he turned back around, Remus saw for the first time in months a smile of genuine affection as Sirius said, “Happy New Year, Moony,” before closing the door behind him. Remus looked down at his watch. It was 12.01am.
Without you, I'm nothing by Clare Mansfield
Chapter Notes: Moony and Padfoot see in a new year
Chapter Endnotes: Hope you're still enjoying this. Let me know what you think xxx