The Dormitory
His nights were monochrome. Even before the incident that shattered his cosseted world, his most fantastical dreams always played out in shades of grey. Before, the white had been uppermost, bursting forth and peppering his nights with light and shine and sparkle. After, he feared the white, instead preferring the dark huddled mass lurking in the corner.
James dreamt in colour. He didn’t specifically say that (for it was an odd thing to talk about, now Remus thought about it), but he always described his dreams in vivid terms: the blue of the sky as he sped through the air, his red and gold robes billowing behind him. He would wake refreshed, no matter how little sleep he’d had, and grin at them all, goading Sirius, who was grumpy in the mornings, and teasing Peter.
Peter’s dreams were probably in colour. Again, he didn’t say, but he’d asked them once whether it was unusual to have ... well ... certain things happen, when he dreamt of blonde girls in tight dresses and cherry red lips. Remus had expected the other two to laugh at Peter, but instead they seemed interested and asked more questions. What was the girl doing? What happened to you? Was it a girl from school? Peter had supplied scant details, at first, but after a while, he admitted the girl had been dancing with him, holding him close, her hand slipping downwards until...
“Well, yeah, at that point I woke up and ... um ...yeah ...”
Remus had kept quiet, not wanting to listen and yet strangely entranced by Peter’s telling of the tale. He didn’t dream of girls, at least not in that way. The girls he dreamt of stood with the light behind them, screaming with fear, or spitting abuse until he slunk back into the shadows.
“I don’t dream,” Sirius declared when James leered and asked him if Grace Allerby “‘you know, that Ravenclaw with the huge knockers!’ - ever paid him a nocturnal visit.
“What, never?” James demanded, incredulous.
“Of course you dream,” Remus replied, speaking at last. “If you didn’t you’d be insane. It’s the mind’s response to sorting through the jumble in our head.”
Shrugging, Sirius picked up a book. “I’m mad, then,” he replied as he skimmed through the pages. “I don’t dream “ ever.”
No one asked Remus. In his first weeks at Hogwarts, he’d woken them all with his cries, but towards the end of their first term, his three dorm mates didn’t stir, so accustomed were they to his night terrors. They knew the mornings he awoke drenched in sweat had nothing to do with girls.
Gryffindor Common Room
“Another bad one, Remus. That’s the third this month. ”
The voice from the other bed surprised him, partly because he was awake, but mainly because it was Sirius speaking, and he must have been keeping track.
“Sorry,” muttered Remus, “I didn’t want to wake you.”
In the gloom, he could see Sirius propped against the headboard, one pillow behind his back. “I was awake, anyway.”
“Sitting in the dark? You could have used Lumos,” Remus whispered. “I don’t think these two would have woken up.”
“I like the dark,” came the reply. “I can think better at night.”
“About what?”
“Just stuff.” Sirius shrugged. “You know.”
Remus knew. Or rather, he knew what he’d be thinking about at three in the morning. He’d be trying to think of other things, and not of bared teeth, flesh tearing and the manic howls of his long ago attacker.
He closed his eyes, hoping to catch a few more hours sleep, but he knew it was hopeless. He’d lie and lie and lie here, knowing he needed to sleep, knowing that in a few days time his body and mind would be pushed into insanity again, and that this was the time he really should catch up on sleep. But the call for sleep was futile and he’d still be awake when the dawn slipped through the window and picked out the colours of the day.
“Common room?” Sirius suggested. “We could play cards or something.”
Remus nodded and, picking up his dressing gown from the end of his bed, quietly padded out of the dorm, following his friend.
Instead of finding cards, Sirius sat on the rug next to the dying fire and chucked a cushion on the floor next to him. Taking the hint, Remus ignored the magazines and chess set on the table, and sat with him watching the flames as they tried to flick back into life.
Sirius leant forwards to add some kindling to the fire. Puckering his lips, he started to blow on the coals. “Funny, isn’t it,” he mused, “how me doing this could either save the flames or kill them entirely. Just need to get it ...” he puffed delicately, “... right. Oh yes, there we go.”
“You could have used your wand,” Remus remarked.
For the first time that evening Sirius smiled, his face lit up from within as well as from the outer flames. “Not nearly so much fun. This is more ... um ... Muggleish.”
Remus snorted at the word. Having known Sirius for nearly four years, he shouldn’t have been surprised at the other’s fascination with all things Muggle. He used to think it was just a phase, that Sirius’ interest in Muggles would wane once he’d started Muggle Studies, but instead that class fanned even more flames, and his questions to Remus about his Muggle mother became even more frequent.
“Your mum,” Sirius said, not looking away from the fire.
“What about her?” Remus asked wearily, wondering if Sirius would be disappointed to learn that his mum used to wait for his dad to come home before she lit any fires.
“Does she know you still have nightmares?”
“Er ...” Remus hesitated. Despite his proximity to the hearth, he felt suddenly shivery. “I don’t know. I think she assumes they’ve stopped now.”
“Why would she assume that?” Sirius looked across at him, a frown creasing his brow.
“Because Dad casts a Silencing Spell on my room. Doesn’t want her upset.”
“Oh.” Sirius looked away, seemingly unsure what else he could say about the Lupin family. “She must get upset after you’ve transformed, though.”
“Yeah, but with me at Hogwarts, that’s only two or three times a year where she has to see it. She can cope with that, especially now Madam Pomfrey’s given her that recipe for hot chocolate she’s so keen on forcing down my throat.”
Sirius began to snort. “Just tell her you don’t like it.”
Sighing, Remus stretched out and propped himself up on one elbow. “Unfortunately it works. Just a shame I want to puke afterwards. And it makes Mum feel as if she’s doing something.”
“You’re lucky she wants to, I suppose,” Sirius muttered, pulling his knees to his chest and staring even more intently as the black coals turned orange again.
“What stuff?” Remus asked, when the silence was no longer comfortable.
“Huh?”
“You said you were awake, thinking about stuff. Must be important.”
“The usual,” Sirius replied shortly, hugging his knees tighter.
“What, Grace Allenby and her huge tits?” Remus said, trying a joke.
“If only.” He sounded downcast, but something had changed because he unfurled himself and lay on the floor next to Remus. “I still don’t dream, you know.”
“You don’t remember your dreams,” Remus corrected.
“Same difference,” Sirius said, shrugging. “Not fair that Peter seems to get all the decent dreams while we’re left with nothing.”
“James doesn’t tell us his dreams anymore.”
“He’s probably stopped dreaming about Quidditch and finally made it on to girls.”
“Like who?” Remus jerked his head off the floor. James had never seemed that interested in anyone, much preferring to talk Quidditch tactics than practise chat-up lines.
“Dunno. I don’t think there’s anyone in particular, but he’s definitely started behaving like a prat whenever a girl approaches. He couldn’t stop looking at Mary’s bum when she leant over the desk.” Sirius sounded amused, but also a touch scathing. “He’s desperate enough to try it on with anyone.”
“She’s pretty,” Remus said, picturing the dark-haired girl with twinkling eyes and an infectious giggle.
“Not a Troll,” agreed Sirius, “but not Outstanding, either.”
“I’d settle for Acceptable,” Remus replied. He closed his eyes again trying to picture himself with Mary. Maybe she’d dance like the girl had done in Peter’s dream, and her hands would start touching ...
“Don’t settle for anything, Remus.”
His eyes flared open at the whisper. He looked across, but Sirius had sat back up and was now making the smoke spiral up the chimney with his wand.
“What do you mean?”
Sirius turned his head, and very slowly leant towards him. “Your parents may think that casting a few Silencing Spells on your room and shoving hot chocolate down your throat are the right things to do, but none of that helps you, does it? All it does is make them feel better. You’ve settled for that. And it’s wrong.”
In the glinting light, Sirius’ face looked softer, yet also far more impassioned. He was close now, so close that Remus could smell the muskiness of his skin mingled with the smoke from the fire. All thoughts of the girl (what girl?) fled as he imagined only that face, only those lips, and only his hands touching him.
“Th-they c-care about me,” he stuttered, not really knowing what he was saying, but desperate for Sirius to move away before he did something utterly stupid. It must be because he was tired, or the after effects of the nightmare, or thinking about Acceptable girls instead of Outstanding ones like Grace, or ...
“We care about you,” Sirius stated, adding in a more forceful tone, “and we’ll bloody well do something to help, even if it is illegal!” Picking up his cushion, he threw it onto the armchair. “I’m going back. You stay here and have your wank over Little Miss Acceptable!”
“What the... Sirius!” Remus sat bolt upright. “What have I ...”
He spoke to an empty room; Sirius had left the common room, not returning to the dorm but storming out through the portrait hole. Remus sank back to the floor, his mind a confusing whirl of jumbled images and conflicting desires. Taking a breath, he debated whether to follow Sirius, find out what was plaguing him, but fearing the answer, Remus stayed on the floor and refused to let his thoughts drift.
The Forbidden Forest
They were charging through the forest, racing across snarled hawthorn bushes, and bounding over fallen trees as they felt the exhilaration of life pulse through them. His customary caution gone, Moony poked his wolf’s nose further in front, stretched his legs out and sped towards their finish line. Beside him, Padfoot kept track; both pulled up, collapsing in a panting heap on the loamy soil whilst they waited for Prongs and Wormtail.
Moony peered through the trees, waiting for the familiar shapes to emerge out of the moonlit darkness. They would rest for a while, recoup their energies before hurtling along a different path. One last run before he slunk back to the Shack and waited for the wolf to take over his mind. But not yet. For now, Moony could revel in this form, enjoying the illicit thrill that had nothing to do with dangerously dark dreams and terrifying fantasies of girls who didn’t look like girls ...
A smell caught him unawares. Instantly the wolfish mind surfaced, and exhaustion forgotten, it snapped its head around, desperate to source its prey. There was someone here. A human walked these woods. The werewolf would get its release at last. Coiled, it sprang in the direction of the stag but did not stop. Instead it snuffled at the ground, tracing the smell on the faint breeze until at last finding the location, it lifted its head to the moon and howled.
Wandless and with a werewolf approaching, a boy emerged from the shrub and ran desperately towards a nearby tree. The werewolf could hear the boy’s terrified shrieks and ran faster, the chase giving an almost sexual thrill to his pursuit. Only one sentient thought remained in its mind: it must have blood.
The boy tripped, his face screwed into terror, his shrieks renting the night air and the wolf decided to wait no longer. It leapt, but as it scorched through the air, it was forced back by something equally large and with teeth and claws. Pain coursed through its body, temporarily rendering the wolf helpless, and Moony returned. He stopped struggling and went limp. Slowly, slowly, Padfoot released his hold, but kept his heavy paws firmly on his chest. Then Moony glanced across, hoping against all hope that he’d been wrong, that the boy had been a figment of his warped imagination.
The boy was not there. In his place was a rat.
The Shrieking Shack
Even though his body protested, Remus knew he had to wake. The grey light of dawn trickled through the crack in the window shutter, but painted no colour in his drab surroundings. Madam Pomfrey would be here in a few hours with her potions and creams to facilitate the walk back to the hospital wing, and he liked to be at least partially dressed when she appeared.
“She’s not here yet, you don’t have to move.”
“Padfoot?” Remus asked, scanning the room until his eyes adjusted to the light and focused on the figure sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. “Why are you here?” He pushed himself up onto his elbows, surprised to find he was covered with the thick blanket from his bedroom.
“Had to make sure-” Sirius mumbled.
“Make sure of what? That I didn’t escape again?”
“Make sure you were all right,” Sirius replied. He looked across the room, still not catching Remus’ eye. “I ... bit you.”
“You had to stop me.” Remus tried to sit up properly, but a shard of pain jolted through his body. Startled, Sirius moved towards him. “No, I’m okay. Just tell me, how’s Peter? I didn’t hurt him, did I?”
“He’s fine!” Sirius sounded snappish, and didn’t sit back down, but walked slowly towards him.
“You’re angry,” Remus stated, and sighed in resignation. “I’m sorry. I can’t control it, not when I scent a human.”
“I’m angry with Wormy. Stupid prat lost concentration. Fuck it, he’s been an Animagus for two years now, and shouldn’t have lost it,” Sirius protested. He sat back down on the floor and reached out his hand to touch Remus on the arm. “I’m not angry with you “ ever.”
Feeling awkward, achingly aware of the fingers still on his arm and the wretched state of his body, Remus tried to look away. But Sirius didn’t seem embarrassed. Instead, his hand moved upwards to Remus shoulder.
“That’s going to be a puzzle,” he murmured, his eyes breaking contact for a second.
“Huh?”
“For the lovely Poppy Pomfrey. She’s going to wonder how on earth you managed to bite yourself there.” He grinned. “She might think you’ve met a lady wolf.”
“I need to tell her something. Or disguise it somehow. Maybe if I ...” He broke off and lifted his own hand, wondering if he could leave deeper scratches to cover the bite marks.
Sirius pulled his hand away, and picked up his wand. “I have a better idea.” Then, muttering something under his breath, he placed the tip of his wand on Remus’ raw skin.
It felt cold, like chips of ice embedding in his skin. Sirius trailed the wand across each puncture until all had healed leaving only faint red marks. “That should fade soon. Does it still hurt?”
Gingerly, Remus rolled his shoulder. “Just a little, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.”
“Good.” Sirius’ voice was soft, but not as soft as the fingertips he placed on Remus’ savaged skin. “Merlin, I never realised things got this bad.”
“It looks worse than it is, and by the time you’ve usually seen me, Madam Pomfrey’s cleaned me up,” Remus mumbled, wondering how he could keep coherent thoughts in his head when Sirius was still staring at him, his grey eyes not looking at all cold, but alive and warm. “She’ll be here soon.”
“She won’t leave the castle for another two hours, Moony. There’s plenty of time.” His hand rested on Remus’ chest. “Your heart is pounding. Are you scared of something?”
Yes.
“Don’t be,” Sirius continued. “I can heal you.”
Remus could feel Sirius’ hot breath caressing his neck, hear his own faint gasps and ached to crush his lips to his. Lifting his arm, he touched Sirius faintly on the shoulder, hesitantly wondering if he should pull him down, or push him away.
But as ice traced his skin, he gulped for air and dropped his hand back down to his side. “Stop this,” he groaned, even though the pain was flowing away.
“It helps and you’re hurting,” Sirius said, carrying on with his ministrations. His wand followed the claw mark that started at the rib cage and seared a jagged path down.
“I said STOP!” Remus shouted, hating that he had to wrench himself away from this blissful relief. “Sirius ... I’m ... just ... I can’t ... Please stop.”
Sirius pulled back, but did not cease the spell. “That one’s healed,” he murmured. “Any more?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“Of course I heard you, Moony,” Sirius replied pleasantly as if indulging in polite chitchat. “But you’re talking bollocks.”
“Madam Pomfrey will be suspicious if I don’t have any scars,” Remus blurted out. “And sometimes she turns up early. You have to go.”
“More bollocks,” Sirius whispered, his eyes glinting dangerously. “You don’t want this to stop any more than I do.”
“I’ve told you.”
“Sure, you’ve said a lot, Moony, but your ... uh ... body isn’t protesting too much.” Propping himself up on his elbow, Sirius held his gaze and then with utter deliberation let his eyes drift downwards. “Or are you-” he tilted his head down to Remus and started to smooth the matted hair from his face, “- thinking about Mary again?”
“I don’t think of her.”
“Why not?”
“I just ... don’t.”
“She’s pretty, you said. Acceptable, you said. And she likes you, Moony, so I’m sure she’d be only too happy to give you a blow job -- or more -- behind Greenhouse Five. Isn’t that what you want?” His voice was low, his fingers still smoothing the tangles from Remus’ bloodied hair, and a bitter smile twisted on his lips. “You could settle for her easily.”
“She’s not you,” Remus yelled. “There, I’ve told you. So just fuck off back to Gryffindor Tower and tell James and Peter what a filthy pervert I am!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Sirius hissed. “Why the hell do you think I pushed you into admitting that?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re more alike than you imagine. And if you weren’t in such fucking pain right now, I’d want to do a lot more than this.”
“Than what?”
Sirius touched his lips to Remus mouth, then, with his tongue, snaked a trail across his neck. “Than this,” he murmured, and moved his hand downwards, “and this.”
Restricted Section
“You took your time.”
Remus looked around, trying to spot Sirius in the dark corner of the library. “I had to shake off Peter. He wanted to borrow some notes ... Er, Sirius, where are you?”
“The alcove by the bust of Henghist the Hairy. I borrowed Prongs’ Cloak,” Sirius murmured, and Remus could hear the smirk in his voice. “He thinks I’m meeting up with a mystery Ravenclaw.”
Remus grinned. “I’ve got the Map. Told the others I wanted some time by myself.” Chuckling softly, he reached out one hand and tried to find the Cloak in front of him. “They already think I’m a moody sod, so I might as well use it to my advantage.”
“Our advantage,” replied Sirius softly. Remus felt a hand plucking at his robe and moved willingly towards the alcove. Then he was enveloped under the folds of the whisper thin Cloak and pulled up close to Sirius’ body. Instinctively, he lifted his face, expecting the crushing kiss that usually began these encounters. But that night, before kissing him, Sirius stared into his eyes, and using his finger, slowly traced the outline of Remus’ mouth. “Does all this secrecy bother you?”
Remus shrugged, not exactly puzzled by the question, but wondering why Sirius was asking. For the past seven years, Sirius had loved the intrigue of secrecy and Remus had assumed the nature of their relationship had a heightened potency for him. “I live by secrets, Padfoot. You know that. One more thing doesn’t bother me.” Smiling, he opened his mouth, and gently nipped the fingertip. Sirius removed his hand, saying nothing. “What’s up?”Remus asked.
“Nothing,” he muttered in reply.
Remus knew he should ask again; there was a problem, he was sure, but at that moment, Sirius lowered his mouth to his and Remus forgot the question.
They’d been seeing each other three or four times a week for two months now. The meetings were brief, highly charged and occasionally unsatisfactory, but for Remus they were becoming all consuming.
They had no etiquette; Remus couldn’t remember who began what. He would hear low moans, shattered gasps and never knew which one of them spoke. But, that night, when Sirius hitched himself onto the shelf of the alcove, Remus dropped to his knees, knowing exactly what was expected, and delighting in Sirius’ capitulation as much as if it had been his own.
His own climax was less hurried as Sirius teased him slowly with his tongue, then hands, watching amused as Remus stifled his cries into the folds of Sirius’ robes.
“Peter and James are going to wonder what you were up to alone, Moony,” Sirius whispered, close to his ear as Remus felt himself thud back to reality. “If they see you in this state they're going to assume you either have a bird, or you’re some pervy little wanker peeking through the greenhouses at the shaggers.”
“Like you and the mystery Ravenclaw?”
He could feel Sirius’ smile curve on his neck, and heard the soft throaty chuckle. “Yeah, just like that,” he laughed and pulled away straightening Remus’ robes. “Shall we get back?”
“Yeah,” Remus agreed, but as Sirius stepped away, taking the Cloak with him, Remus pulled on the sleeve of his robe. “Padfoot-”
“Mmm.”
“Does this secrecy bother you?”
Sirius sighed, and then after removing the Cloak and bundling it under his robe, he slid to the floor. “It’s just bloody hard, sometimes, Moony. I invent this sodding Ravenclaw and James wants to know everything about her.”
Remus stared at him, unsure what he was hearing. “Are you saying you want to tell James and Peter what’s going on?” Sirius stared back. “It’s ... too soon!” Remus exclaimed.
“They’re our friends,” Sirius said slowly as if talking to a child. “They will understand.”
“Yeah, I know. But ... Jesus, Padfoot, we share a dorm with them.”
“So?” Sirius scoffed haughtily. “What difference does that make?”
“Uh ... well, would you want to share a room with them and their girlfriends? It’ll be awkward for us and uncomfortable for them.”
Sirius smiled ruefully, and shook his head. “Okay, I get it. Secrecy for now, but what about after?”
“After what?”
“After we leave Hogwarts. That’s less than three months, Moony.”
Remus shuffled along the floor and sat himself next to Sirius. With one hand, he squeezed Sirius thigh, trying to think what to say. “There’s a war going on out there, Padfoot. Perhaps we’ll have other things on our mind.”
“Or perhaps it will clarify what’s important,” Sirius muttered and placed his hand over Remus’. “I have my flat in London. You can move in with me, you know?”
Groaning, Remus flopped sideways, his head resting on Sirius’ shoulder. “You don’t know how much I want to say yes.”
“And yet you’re about to say no.”
“It would destroy my dad to have not only a werewolf, but a poof for a son.”
“Settling again,” Sirius remarked, sounding annoyed yet also resigned. He stood up and raked his fingers through his hair. “Shame though, I was hoping the shock would kill both my parents.”
Prefects’ Bathroom
“Are you sure James isn’t around?”
Sirius smirked. “He said he had a Quidditch practise, and Wormy’s scrubbing out bedpans in the hospital wing.” He grabbed Remus by the hand, his thumb already caressing his palm. “Come on, Moony. We have the dormitory to ourselves and it has to be more comfortable than that sodding shelf in the library. I got a splinter in my arse the last time.”
Remus’ mouth twitched into a smile. In this mood, Sirius would be capricious, but also generous. Their games would play out for the afternoon, leaving both spent yet still desperate for more. “I should be writing that essay for McGonagall.”
Sirius laughed and with his free hand, opened the door of their dorm. “You’re conducting in depth research into the Animagi phenomenon. She can’t complain. Now get inside “ Whoa - ”
He broke off suddenly, and with a start, Remus realised why. James was not at Quidditch practise. Instead of talking tactics with his team, he was writhing sweatily naked on his bed, whilst an equally naked Lily sat astride him, moaning as he gripped her waist and bucked into her. So caught up with each other, they didn’t hear Sirius’ muttered epithet, or his hurried closing of the door.
“Merlin, that was close!” Remus exclaimed and started to chuckle. “Wonder how long that’s been going on.”
“No idea. But I expect it’ll be over soon now he’s had his shag.” Sirius sounded bored, a light tone skirting through his words, but to Remus there was something darker behind his statement.
“Perhaps I’ll head back to the library and make a start on that essay,” he muttered, quite sure the mood was broken.
“Fuck that!” Sirius snapped and gripped Remus’ hand harder. “If he’s not practising then the team aren’t either.”
“What? Break into the changing room?”
“Yep,” Sirius replied, adding sourly, “Show Prongs we don’t need a Quaffle to score either.”
After checking the corridor, Remus pulled Sirius closer and with deliberation, nuzzled his ear, knowing it was one place that drove his friend crazy. “I have a better idea. It’s much closer, and I’m pretty sure we’ll be alone.”
Sirius smiled slightly. “Where?”
“Prefect’s Bathroom,” he whispered in reply. “We have a rota, and it’s supposed to be the head girl’s turn...”
Sirius pulled away, holding him at arms’ length, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Remus thought he was going to stride away, but then he smiled his crooked smile, and gently touched Remus on the cheek. “Sounds good.”
The sharp tang of the lemon-scented foam hit Remus like a shower of rain. Raising his wand, he turned off the tap and slowly walked down the marble steps of the bath to where Sirius was lounging by the side of the pool.
“We haven’t been here for ages,” Remus said, swimming across to him. “I remember that first time when James persuaded me to give up the password, and we Transfigured that sponge into a Grindylow. Never forgot Avery’s face when he ran out stark-bollock naked into the corridor.”He grinned at the memory, and James taking picture after picture. “We should come back “ just the four of us “ and remember that first time.”
“Wasn’t my first time,” Sirius replied.
“Really?”
“James and I broke in once in the fourth year. Blagged the password off that girl with the big tits ... Grace Something.”
“Allerby,” Remus said faintly. “I didn’t know.”
“You were otherwise occupied, and Peter ...” He shrugged. “We didn’t invite him.”
Remus ducked under the water, swimming towards the deepest part of the bath. “Did Allerby join you?”
“For a time,” Sirius replied and smirked. “She fancied me.”
Remus submerged again, wondering for how long he could hold his breath. The thought of Sirius with someone else, with a girl, even if it was three years ago, was like a knife in his gut. He swam away, kicking with his legs, until finally he emerged at the far end of the bath by the cold tap with the gargoyle head. He turned towards Sirius, but only a few ripples showed where he’d been sitting.
“Turns out her tits were padding,” came the insidious whisper.
Remus gasped as Sirius grappled with him in the water, sliding his legs around his waist from behind and nipping him on the shoulder. “James was very disappointed “ at first.”
“James?” Remus croaked.
“I had a bit of a mess around with her; then she transferred her affections to Prongs. Don’t you remember? It was that month he couldn’t stop grinning because he was finally getting his end away.”
“Neither of you ever said,” said Remus, feeling idiotic. “I didn’t know you’d ever been with a girl.”
“I was fifteen,” Sirius cajoled. “Confused as shit, and had no idea about the rest of you. It seemed to be the right thing to do, but ... uh ... it was me settling for something.” He unwound his legs and twisted Remus around until they were facing each other. “Can we stop having this deep and meaningful and just start having some fun, Moony?”
“Sure,” Remus agreed, and despite the gnawing in his gut that something wasn’t quite right, he reached up and kissed Sirius very firmly on the lips. “What do you want?”
“You.”
“You have me,” Remus said, smiling with relief. “You know that. But what would you like?”
“You,” Sirius repeated, stroking the small of Remus’ back. “Properly.”
“You want ...” Remus trailed off. They’d always skirted around this, but recently he’d sensed Sirius wanted more.
Sirius swept his hair back from his face and touched his lips to Remus’ cheek. “Only if you’re ready.”
“Uh...” Remus stared at Sirius, and swallowed. In the steamy, mysterious gloom of the bathroom, his face was half in shadow, yet Remus could clearly see the minute drops of water snaking a trail down Sirius’ cheek. Reaching out to the surface of the water, he scooped up some of bubbles and watched as they popped in his hand, dissolving without the water underneath. And all the while, Sirius was stroking his back, hitching Remus’ legs around his waist, holding him above water level. “I’m ready,” Remus murmured.
Years after, he could still remember the smell of the thick towels on the stone bench, and the way they’d felt against his skin, soft and enticing, at odds with the hard muscular strength of Sirius. And although it was Sirius taking what he could, Remus needed this union, needed to experience the animalistic, primal urge of sex with this person, this Outstanding boy.
Above him Sirius was groaning, gasping for air, driving himself onwards, and sparing no time for the soft caresses of earlier encounters, so caught up with his selfish need for this climax.
He came, suddenly, his action rendering him incapable of coherent words and audible sentiments. But one muttered word wisped though the air, shattering Remus with the ferocity of a hex.
“James!”
Grimmauld Place
“If I hadn’t said his name, would things have been different?” Sirius asked.
It was late evening; the Weasley family were due to move in the next day and Remus only remained to keep his old friend company. A different kind of intimacy had sprung up between the pair now that they were no longer lovers. This bond was stronger than their adolescent yearnings, and the past was never discussed. However, Remus wasn’t surprised the subject was emerging now, for after the Weasleys moved in, Harry would be there, too.
Taking a slow sip of his drink, Remus considered his answer carefully. “I think so.”
“In what way?”
“I think we’d have burnt out “ not many teenage relationships survive, after all “ but we wouldn’t have lost that trust in each other.”
Sirius sighed. “That bloody rat always knew how to exploit everything.”
“Did he know about us?”
Reaching across for the Firewhisky, Sirius poured another two generous measures. “I don’t think we were as clever at hiding as we thought. Lily was always urging me to talk to you. And she once said that the important people in my life would never judge me.”
“Did she know how you felt?”
“That I loved James? Yes, she knew.”
Sirius stopped talking and Remus reflected, almost idly, that the years had given him perspective, and the spectre of James no longer had the power to hurt him.
“I loved you, too, Remus.”
“But he was ‘the one’. I was ... Little Miss Acceptable,” Remus said wryly.
A ghost of a smile flickered on Sirius’ face. “You were at least Exceeds Expectations, Moony. I was a Troll.”
Catching sight of them both in the large mirror above the hearth, Remus started to laugh. “I think we’re both Trolls, now.”
A crash in the hallway and Walburga’s screams made them both jump.
“If that’s Kreacher, I’ll boot him so hard up the arse, he’ll wish his head was already mounted!” Sirius raged, slamming his glass down on the table.
“I’ll deal with it,” Remus said wearily, getting up from his chair.
Wrenching open the door, he leapt back in alarm as someone fell at his feet.
“I am so bloody sorry,” said a pink-faced girl now sprawled on the floor. “Sirius, I tripped on that sodding troll’s foot again, and that set her off.”
Sirius started to laugh, the gruff sound pealing through the room, genuinely amused at the girl in front of him. Feeling a small stab of jealousy that this stranger could bring a smile back to his old friend’s face, Remus nonetheless bent down and helped her up.
“Moony, this is my cousin, Nymphadora Tonks.”
“Who will bloody hex your bollocks off if you call me that ever again,” she muttered menacingly. She smiled as she turned to Remus, and her hair rippled from black like Sirius’ to a vibrant red. “Call me Tonks.”
“Remus Lupin,” he said, offering her his hand.
“Oh,” she said, her eyes round and eager. “The werewolf. I’ve heard of you.”
Totally blindsided by her frankness, for most people never mentioned it unless they had to, Remus started to laugh, suddenly at ease in her company. Settling back on the sofa, he Summoned a glass and poured her a drink, whilst Sirius, with one raised eyebrow, declared he’d deal with his mother.
“What were you two talking about?” Tonks asked idly, when Sirius returned.
“Schooldays,” Sirius replied smoothly. “We won’t bore you with the details.”
“Oh, go on,” she said, and yawned. “I’ve had a pig of a day. Scrimgeour’s being a total arse about paperwork and I could do with the distraction.”
Sirius smirked. “Okay, young Tonks, where shall I start? Hmm, how about the story of the Prefects’ bathroom and ...”
Remus looked across and caught the dangerous glint in Sirius’ eyes. A glint he hadn’t seen for years, not since their first time in the Shrieking Shack. But he knew Sirius well now and recognised his teasing.
“...the crushing disappointment of Grace Allerby’s tits,” Sirius finished, and clinked his glass with Remus’. “They were good days, Tonks. But probably not worth raking over.”
“Suit yourself,” she replied and yawned again. “Merlin, I’m shattered. You don’t mind if I crash here, do you?”
Sirius shrugged. “You can take my room, that’s more or less habitable.”
“Cheers,” she said and drained her glass. “In that case, I’m going to turn in. I have an early start tomorrow.”
Standing up, she pecked Sirius on the cheek then turned to Remus. “Good to meet you at last, Remus. I’ve heard a lot of things about you from Sirius “mostly good.”
He returned her smile and watched as she careened off a table and out of the room. An effervescent girl bubbling with life and laughter, her absence from the room left him feeling cold.
Sirius was watching him quizzically, but said nothing.
That night, on Sirius’ couch, with an empty glass on the table and a blanket tucked around him, Remus dreamt in colour.
Monochrome by Equinox Chick
Chapter Endnotes: I like reviews, but Gina likes them too, so why not pop along to her author page (Gmariam) and wish her a Happy Birthday whilst reading her sublime James/Lily stories. (You can still leave me a review as well - hee hee)