The night was quiet, the kind of quiet that settled deep into one’s bones. The moon, still a few days from full, hung lazily in the sky, casting a pale silver glow over the Hogwarts grounds. The Forbidden Forest loomed in the distance, its shadows stretching long across the grass.
Remus Lupin sat beneath the great oak by the lake, legs drawn up, arms resting over his knees. The wind carried the soft ripple of the water, but it wasn’t enough to still the thoughts racing in his mind.
He hated this time of the month. The waiting. The knowing. The slow crawl toward the inevitable. He could already feel it—the restlessness in his bones, the phantom ache in his muscles. No matter how many times he went through it, the dread never lessened.
“Thought I’d find you here.”
Remus exhaled through his nose but didn’t turn. He heard Sirius before he saw him—the easy way he moved, the familiar rustling of his robes, the slight hitch in his breath when he caught sight of Remus in this state.
Sirius didn’t speak right away. Instead, he plopped down beside him, stretching his legs out as if they had all the time in the world. He didn’t push, didn’t pry. He never did.
For a while, they sat in silence.
Then, quietly, Remus spoke. “I hate it.”
Sirius glanced at him.
Remus continued, voice low, like he was admitting something he never meant to say aloud. “Not just the full moon. The waiting. The fact that no matter what I do, no matter how normal I feel right now, I know what’s coming.” He swallowed hard. “I know what I am.”
Sirius shifted closer, the warmth of his presence grounding in a way Remus hadn’t realized he needed. “You’re Moony.”
Remus scoffed. “I’m a monster.”
Sirius frowned, reaching out without hesitation. His fingers curled gently around Remus’s wrist, thumb brushing lightly against his skin. “No. You’re you. And you don’t have to go through it alone.”
Remus finally looked at him, and Sirius held his gaze, unwavering.
“You always do that,” Remus murmured.
“Do what?”
“Make it sound so simple.”
Sirius smirked. “That’s because it is simple. You’re not your condition, Remus. You’re still the same stubborn, brilliant, book-obsessed bloke who steals my chocolate.”
A small, tired smile ghosted over Remus’s lips. “That was one time.”
“Twice.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but the heaviness in his chest lifted just a little.
The wind picked up, sending a chill through the air. Sirius, without thinking, shifted closer, their shoulders brushing. Remus didn’t move away. Instead, he let himself lean into the warmth.
Sirius cleared his throat, a hint of nervousness creeping into his usual confidence. “You know, I don’t just stay because I feel bad for you.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “No?”
Sirius hesitated—just a second too long for it to be casual. “No.”
The air between them changed, charged with something neither of them had ever put into words before.
Sirius swallowed. “I stay because… I want to. Because I care. A lot.”
Remus’s breath hitched, his heart stuttering in his chest. He searched Sirius’s face, the sincerity in his stormy eyes, the way he looked at him like he was something worth staying for.
Remus didn’t think. Didn’t overanalyze like he always did. Instead, he moved.
And Sirius met him halfway.
The kiss was soft, careful, like testing the edges of something new. But when Remus sighed against him, melting just a little, Sirius pressed in, deepening it, his fingers ghosting up Remus’s arm, as if memorizing the shape of him.
When they broke apart, Sirius grinned, just a little breathless. “Was that okay?”
Remus exhaled a laugh. “Yeah. That was okay.”
They sat there beneath the not-quite-full moon, the weight of the world a little lighter, the night a little warmer, and for once, Remus wasn’t afraid of what was coming next.
Because Sirius would be there.
Always.