High and Dry

Peter joined them in the late evening on Christmas, clambering loudly through the front door, his face red from the biting cold. Remus wasn’t sure why he didn’t take the floo. He claimed he, “wanted to see what the fuss was all about with the Knight Bus” James had mentioned that the Potters usually ventured into Diagon Alley on Christmas Day, but with the new situation, they spent the day inside, playing wizarding games and trying to keep things as normal as possible. 

After their conversation that early morning, something in Sirius had shifted. He wasn’t as pale as he had been, a little color had returned to his face. He engaged in the usual banter, though his participation was more subdued. He still teased James and Remus, but there was a heaviness in his voice. James noticed, of course, but it seemed to be enough for him. Seeing Sirius more present, even if it was in small bursts, seemed to ease the worry James had been carrying.

Remus, however, was more cautious. He noticed the way Sirius would flinch when he thought no one was watching, or the way his eyes would drift off into the distance when things grew quiet. Remus had seen this before, and he knew that whatever Sirius was hiding, it wasn’t going to be solved by playing a few rounds of wizard’s chess.

That night, after Peter had settled in, the four boys found themselves sprawled out on the cold floor of James’s bedroom, each of them wrapped in thick blankets. Peter had, surprisingly, smuggled a bottle of Firewhiskey from his parents, practically bursting with excitement as he revealed it with a dramatic flourish.

Remus hesitated. He hadn’t touched much alcohol since October, and with everything going on, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. But when Peter grinned and handed the bottle to Sirius, all caution seemed to fly out the window. Sirius, his eyes dark and unfocused, snatched the bottle eagerly and took a long swig.

“Pads…” Remus started, voice soft, but his protest fell on deaf ears.

Sirius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and passed the bottle to James with a smirk. “It’s fine, Moons,” he said, though his voice was rougher than usual. “I’m not made of glass.”

Peter and James laughed, but Remus just watched, the knot in his stomach tightening. He didn’t like the way Sirius was looking at the bottle, the way he seemed desperate for it. 

"I'm excited to go back to school," Peter said, his voice slightly slurred as he leaned back against the bedpost. "We'll be learning to Apparate soon."

James chimed in with a grin. "You’ll end up splinching yourself, Wormtail. Mark my words."

Peter made a face, but he was too drunk to care. 

Remus shifted uncomfortably on the floor, his mind running in circles. The laughter, the lightheartedness, felt out of place. It was as if they were all pretending, trying to forget about the nightmare Sirius had just been through. But Remus couldn’t forget. He couldn’t stop seeing the way Sirius had looked when he slept, pale and broken, or the quiet plea in his eyes when he said his name on Christmas Eve. 

Sirius didn’t say much after that, letting the conversation wash over him without adding much. His hand gripped the bottle again, and Remus could tell that the alcohol was starting to hit him harder now. He looked to James, but the boy seemed too caught up in the banter to notice. Remus felt his own frustration rising. He wanted to ask Sirius what he needed, but every time he looked at him, he saw something he couldn’t quite place—a kind of emptiness, a wall he wasn’t sure how to break.

"I wonder how Lily's holidays are going," James said, breaking the silence. "Surprised I haven’t heard from her yet."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "I’m surprised you haven’t written to her. You’ve been going on about her for weeks."

James dramatically rolled his eyes. "I have! I just haven’t gotten a response," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "She’s probably just busy, you know, with her family and all that."

Remus couldn't help himself. "I’m surprised she didn’t write back," he muttered under his breath, his voice unintentionally louder than he intended.

All three boys stopped talking and stared at him.

"What?" Remus asked, trying to brush it off.

James narrowed his eyes, leaning forward. "What do you mean by that?"

Remus felt the heat rush to his face. "I—I don't know. Just... I thought it was weird." He tried to feign ignorance, but James wasn’t buying it.

“You know something, don’t you, Moony?” James pressed, eyes narrowing playfully but with a trace of seriousness. “You’re closer to Lily than any of us. Come on, spill. What do you know?”

Remus shrugged nonchalantly, but inside, his heart was pounding. "I know nothing. Absolutely nothing." He tried to brush it off, but James wouldn’t let up.

“Hold on mate,” James said, his grin spreading wide. “That comment? It had to mean something.” He went on, his voice getting louder, his excitement building. "I knew it! I knew she was warming up to me! Come the start of school, I’ll be the first of us to get a girlfriend. Just wait, you’ll see.”

Peter snorted from the corner of the room. "Yeah, right, Prongs. It still isn’t likely. You’re still too much of an idiot. Anyway, Padfoot is more likely to get someone first.”

James huffed, but before he could respond, Sirius, who had been unusually quiet, glanced up at Peter. Sirius hummed thoughtfully, his eyes flicking over to Remus.

Remus’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in the snow blowing across the bedroom window. He felt eyes on his head still, and turned his head back. Sirius stared at Remus, dead in the eyes, a half-smirk on his face. "Who said I was going to get a girlfriend?"

The room went still. No one said a word. The weight of Sirius’s words hit Remus harder than he expected, and he found himself unable to move. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Peter then blurted, "Come on, Pads, you're always the one with birds following you. You've got so many secret admirers. You're a magnet."

Sirius only shrugged, looking nonchalantly at the rest of them. "I don’t care for any of that."

James, sensing the shift in mood, quickly jumped back into the conversation. "Right, but seriously, let's make it a bit of a competition, yeah?" He grinned at the others. "We’ll bet, whoever gets someone to date them, not just snog” he looks pointedly at Sirius, “wins ten galleons.” 

Remus shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep the slight tension from his face. The conversation was heading somewhere he didn’t want to follow. He never liked it when they turned their discussions to girls or relationships. Kissing, shagging—it was all foreign to him. He didn't care for it. Well, he at least didn’t care for it when it came to girls.

For awhile, he’d thought it was just because he was a werewolf—his hesitance, his discomfort—but now, sitting there, listening to them, he knew better. His mind wasn’t on girls. It had never been. It had always been on Sirius.

Back in the beginning of fifth year, there had been a brief time where he'd tried to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, he should go on a date. He had even asked a Ravenclaw girl he’d spoken to in the library a few times to Hogsmeade. It had felt easy enough at first—until they’d gone. The entire date had felt forced, and by the time they’d reached the Three Broomsticks, he realized it wasn’t what he wanted.

He had told himself it was because of his condition—that it was just too hard for him to date someone when he could never tell the truth too. He knew now, though, that it was more than that. His feelings for Sirius weren’t a simple phase. They were real. And he couldn’t shake them.

He looked at Sirius again, his heart tight in his chest. 

"Ah, come off it, James," Sirius said with a smirk, rolling his eyes. "You're just making a bet so you can win something.”

James shot him with a mock glare. "You think this is about winning? I’m just saying, whoever gets to it first deserves a reward." He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe that'll be me, maybe not. But at least I’m putting myself out there."

Peter snickered from the corner. "Oh, yeah, sure, Prongs. The only thing you're putting out there is your foot in your mouth. And your dick.”

Sirius snorted. "He’s right, mate. You’re all talk. Honestly, I can’t wait to see you try and pull off that ‘charming’ act in front of Lily. It's gonna be hilarious."

James groaned. "I can be charming!"

"You? Charming?" Remus piped up, his tone teasing. "I’m still waiting for the day that works. Maybe if you stopped trying so hard—"

"Oi, I’m charming!" James said, eyes wide. "You just don’t appreciate me, Moony."

Sirius chuckled. "If you’re charming, then I’m the Queen of England."

Peter grinned. "Well, at least you’ve got the right attitude for it."

"Alright," James said with a dramatic sigh, leaning back on his elbows, "just humour me." He grinned wickedly. "Whoever gets the kiss first gets a free drink at the Three Broomsticks from the rest of us. And whoever gets the shag... well, they get the glory, don’t they?”

Sirius groaned. "You’re all bloody obsessed with this, aren’t you? Besides, we’ve both already kissed people!”

James waved him off. Remus could almost hear the phantom details, Padfoot, details.

Peter leaned forward, his grin widening. "Well, I suppose it will be a right laugh"

"True," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "But I’m not taking part in some bloody competition to see who can get the most attention."

“Fine,” James said with a dramatic flair. “Then I guess you’re out, Pads. You’re too cool for our little bet.”

“Too cool?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “No, I’m just not into the idea of using my irresistible charm and good-looks to earn a Galleon or two, thanks.”

They all laughed again, the mood lightening as the night wore on. Remus couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. It was in moments like this that he realized how much he needed them, how much he needed Sirius—but he couldn’t say that aloud, not now, not in front of everyone. So instead, he joined in the banter, the warmth of the moment easing the tension in his chest, just a little bit.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about anything and everything, their laughter ringing through the house. Despite the worries that still weighed on them, despite the darkness that had followed Sirius, for now, they were all just boys—friends, together, for one more Christmas.

—--------------------------

Remus lay in bed, barely keeping his eyes open, his body still a bit tipsy from the firewhiskey they’d had earlier. He was in that strange in-between phase of dozing off, the whistling of the wind outside lulling him further into a half-dream state. But then, he felt a tap against his chest, a light, persistent touch that pulled him out of his haze.

He blinked, groggy, and saw Sirius leaning over him, his intense stare unwavering. Remus blinked again, trying to process what was happening.

"What’s going on, Pads?" Remus mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Sirius didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he just stared down at him for a moment, his gaze inscrutable. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he asked, “Want to go have a smoke?”

Remus frowned. “It’s snowing, Sirius. And freezing.”

Sirius shrugged, unfazed. “Doesn’t matter. You coming?”

Remus hesitated, sleep still clouding his mind, but the pull of Sirius’s energy was too strong. Weak as he was from the alcohol, he couldn’t bring himself to say no. It was Sirius—he never could resist him. “Fine,” he muttered, throwing off the covers and sitting up, surprised at how dizzy he still felt. He grabbed his coat from a chair and followed Sirius out the back door.

The cold hit him immediately, biting at his exposed skin as they made their way to the back of the house. They found a corner of the shed to lean against, standing a little too close for comfort. Remus shifted, trying not to acknowledge how much closer their bodies were than he would have liked, but Sirius didn’t seem to care. He pulled out a cigarette and handed it to Remus without a word.

They passed the cigarette between them in silence, the only sounds being the wind and the occasional soft puff as they took their turns. Remus looked up at Sirius after a moment. “Where’d you get this, anyway?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius exhaled a cloud of smoke. “It was in my pocket before everything went down. Didn’t want to lose it.”

Remus chuckled, despite himself. “Of course you always have a pack of cigarettes on you.”

Sirius shrugged, the smirk on his face more relaxed than usual. “You never know when you need one.”

There was a lull in the conversation, a comfortable kind of silence that stretched between them as they smoked. But then Sirius reached into his pocket, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out something small and red.

Remus watched, curiosity piqued. Sirius held up a small red cube in his hand, his fingers lightly tapping it as if he were contemplating something. Remus raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across his face.

“What’s that?” Remus asked, his voice still heavy with the haze of the night.

Sirius looked almost sheepish for a second—an emotion that was rare for him—and then looked away for a moment, clearly unsure how to answer. After a beat, he muttered, “It’s your red jumper. The one you thought you lost.”

Remus blinked, a little surprised. “My jumper?” he asked, still processing. “How do you have it?”

Sirius shifted uncomfortably, looking almost embarrassed. He explained, his voice quieter now, “I... I put it in my pocket before I left Hogwarts. Forgot to give it back. I was going to return it to you, in person…that night. But before I could sneak out... well, everything went down. Figured you could transfigure it back at at school” His voice trailed off, and there was an vulnerable edge to it.

Remus was quiet for a moment, taking in what Sirius had said. His heart gave an unexpected flutter. “You were going to come all the way from London to the middle of Wales... just to return my jumper? Instead of waiting for school to start up?” Remus asked, still trying to understand why Sirius would do something so... so strange. 

Sirius, as if embarrassed by the attention, simply shrugged. “I wanted to wish you a happy Christmas,” Sirius muttered, looking away. “Besides, I know how much you love that jumper.”

Remus’s chest tightened, his earlier confusion replaced by something softer, something a little more profound. There was a tenderness in Sirius’s actions that Remus hadn’t expected. The fact that Sirius had carried around that jumper with him, intending to return it personally—it meant something more than Remus could explain.

He just looked at Sirius, unable to put his thoughts into words. The night air around them felt impossibly warner now, and Remus couldn’t help but feel it spreading through him, his heart quietly thumping.

Sirius looked at him, meeting his eyes with a flicker of something, but neither of them said anything more for a while. The silence was comfortable, but charged.

“Wait,” Remus said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet of the cold night. “Why did you steal it in the first place?”

Sirius stiffened, clearly not expecting the question. He glanced at Remus, then quickly looked away, his fingers absently tracing the edge of the cigarette. He was quiet for a moment, and Remus could see the wheels turning in his mind, unsure of how to explain himself.

“I didn’t steal it,” Sirius finally said, his tone defensive, but not with the usual edge. “I... I just wanted something of yours. Something to hold onto, I guess.”

Remus frowned. He shifted, the cold air biting at his skin, but his attention was fixed entirely on Sirius.

“Something of mine?” Remus repeated, his heart beating a little faster. “But why?”

Sirius just shrugged, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. Remus could tell he was going to change the subject.

“Do you ever feel like… like your life’s already planned for you? Like everything’s set in motion, and you don’t get a say in any of it?”

Remus blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but then he nodded. “Of course I do. I get it more than anyone.” He knew his life was set in motion for him the night he was bitten. He was four—sleeping in his bed on a stifling summer night. One moment, he was just a kid. And then, suddenly, his whole life was decided for him. Unavoidable. Unchangeable.

Sirius looked at him, something flickering in his expression—understanding, maybe. He exhaled slowly and leaned forward, his hands fidgeting restlessly around the stubby cigarette. He ashed it near his foot. “I’ve been thinking about that. About fate. About how it doesn’t matter how much I fought it or shouted about not wanting it… I still thought it was mine, you know? My future. My parents’ future for me.”

He paused, his voice softening. “I mean, I was the Black heir. Even when they hated me, even when I was sorted into Gryffindor and started hanging around ‘blood traitors’ and half-bloods. None of that mattered. I was still their heir. I always thought… no matter how far I pushed, it wouldn’t change anything. One day, I’d have to marry a pure-blood girl they picked out for me. I’d inherit Grimmauld Place. I’d carry on the Black name. Like it was written in the stars.”

Sirius laughed, but it was sharp and hollow. “But now? Now I’m probably properly3 disowned. My mother’s probably already blasted me off the tapestry.” He smiled faintly, but there was no joy in it. “I’m not the heir anymore. I’m not anything anymore.”

He shifted uncomfortably , his voice taking on an edge of wonder—and fear. “I don’t have to marry some pure-blood girl or inherit that bloody house or keep the Black name alive. For the first time in my life, I can do whatever I want.”

Remus watched him closely, the way Sirius’s hands trembled slightly, the way his words wavered between exhilaration and unease. “And how does that feel?” he asked quietly.

Sirius looked over at him, his grey eyes wide and vulnerable. “Terrifying,” he admitted. “But…bloody brilliant . Like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff. I don’t know if I’m going to fall or fly.”

Remus didn’t say anything right away. He just reached out, lightly resting his hand on Sirius’s arm. “Maybe both,” he said eventually. “Maybe you fall first. But you’ll fly, Pads. I know you will.”

Sirius gave him a faint, lopsided smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes but came close. 

“You’re so cheesy, Moons,” Sirius teased, though his voice was softer than usual.

Remus laughed, the sound real and unrestrained. “Cheesy for only you,” he shot back with a grin.

Sirius smirked, shaking his arm, and Remus’s hand fell away. For a brief second, a pang of hurt flashed through him—but then Sirius grabbed his hand, this time intertwining their fingers.

Remus froze, staring down at their joined hands. When he looked back up, Sirius was watching him so intently that it made his stomach flip. The intensity of that gaze was enough to make him feel like he might melt right through the floor.

“Remus, I…” Sirius began, his voice trembling with hesitation. “Now that I… now that I can…” He trailed off, grunting in frustration, as if the words were caught somewhere just out of reach.

Remus tilted his head, his curiosity piqued but his expression soft. He didn’t say anything, giving Sirius the space he needed to sort through whatever it was he was trying to say.

“Moons…” Sirius tried again, his grip on Remus’s hand tightening. “Moony… Remus…”

The way Sirius said his name felt like a prayer, reverent and full of something so so raw.

“Yes… Pads?” Remus prompted, his voice gentle, his lips curling into a small smile.

Sirius sighed, his shoulders slumping just slightly. But instead of continuing, he raised his free hand and, oh so softly, cupped Remus’s face.

Remus’s breath hitched. His heart thudded in his chest as he leaned instinctively into the warmth of Sirius’s palm.

“I thought, back in fifth year,” Sirius began, his voice low and trembling, “that I had finally become my family. That I’d let their anger and hatred ruin everything. Ruin us.”

That us carried so much weight, so much meaning. Remus could sob.

“But then you forgave me,” Sirius continued, his thumb brushing lightly against Remus’s cheek. “You held my hand, even when I didn’t deserve it. And I—” His voice cracked, his breath hitching as he fought back tears. “Merlin, Moony. I realized I can’t ever lose you. I just… I can’t.”

Remus’s eyes filled with tears, but they didn’t fall. He held Sirius’s gaze, his heart almost bursting. He was so utterly, hopelessly in love with this beautiful, complicated boy.

“You won’t, Sirius,” he said softly, his voice steady even as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. “Never.”

—--------------------------

Remus stumbled out of the Floo and into Hope’s Cottage sometime around six the following day. Hope was on the couch, flipping through a muggle magazine, but as soon as she saw him, she tossed it aside and stood, her lips pressed tight with restrained frustration.

Without a word, she pulled him into a crushing hug. “Remus John Lupin,” she began, her voice a mix of worry and exasperation. “What in the world happened? You had me worried sick!”

Remus stammered a reply, keeping his tone calm as he tried to placate her. “Sirius had a bit of a breakdown, Mum. He… needed me.”

Hope frowned, studying him closely, clearly unsatisfied with the lack of detail. “A breakdown?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It’s… complicated. But he’s okay now.”

She pursed her lips but sighed, letting the conversation drop. “You missed Christmas, Remus.”

“I know,” he said, guilt heavy in his voice. “I’m so sorry. Really. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Hope softened, her arms crossing loosely over her chest. “I understand, love. Just… next time, let me know, alright?”

Remus nodded, feeling a pang of gratitude for her endless patience. He realized, not for the first time, how much he appreciated her.

When Remus had left the Potters—albeit reluctantly—Sirius had given him such a long, intimate hug that James had started coughing obnoxiously in the background. Normally, Remus would have flushed with embarrassment, but he’d been too giddy from Sirius’s affection to care.

The rest of the holiday break passed much like the beginning—quiet days spent at the cottage. Only this time, Remus exchanged letters with Sirius almost daily.

The first letter had arrived the morning after his departure. Sirius’s handwriting was as elegant as ever,  and the tone was vulnerable in a way that made Remus’s heart ache. I’m worried you won’t write back, Sirius had written, almost as if he were afraid he’d imagined the closeness between them.

Remus had responded immediately, telling him not to be ridiculous. You’re stuck with me, Pads, Remember? he’d written. Forever.

—--------------------------

“I’ve had an amazing idea, lads,” James declared, practically vibrating with excitement.

They were on the train back to Hogwarts, and Remus was so giddy he swore he could feel his fingertips tingling.

When Remus had stumbled onto the train earlier, he’d wasted no time finding their compartment. He’d practically booked it down the narrow corridor, ignoring the muffled chatter and laughter coming from other students.

Sliding the door open, he was immediately hit with the warmth of familiarity. James was talking animatedly, hands flailing as he tried to emphasize his point. Sirius was sprawled against him, looking perfectly at ease, his eyes bright with amusement as he laughed at whatever James had said. Across from them, Peter sat cross-legged, listening intently with a small grin on his face.

The moment the door opened, all three of them turned to look at him.

“Well, look here!” James said with a wide grin. “Fully recovered after caring for wayward mutts, are we?” He shot Sirius a teasing look, and Sirius rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

Remus laughed, the sound bubbling up before he could stop it. “Yes, it was quite exhausting,” he replied, his tone light as he stepped inside and plopped down next to Peter.

“Good to see you, mate,” Peter said warmly, clapping Remus on the shoulder.

Sirius didn’t say anything, but when Remus glanced at him, he found Sirius already watching him. The corners of Sirius’s mouth quirked up into a small, knowing smile, and Remus couldn’t help but smile back.

Thats when James had proclaimed that they needed to listen to him, clapping his hands together. “This idea of mine is going to blow your minds.”

Remus leaned back in his seat, the grin still tugging at his lips. Whatever James was about to suggest would undoubtedly be ridiculous. And put them into detention until the summer. 

—--------------------------

Before Remus knew it, January had given way to February. The first month of the year held two moons, one right after the New Years and one right before February. So Remus was exhausted, bones aching constantly. Every breath he took made his bones shift in an odd way, and his hip hurt so much he could barely walk. Sirius and James had begun to pester him to get a walking stick. Remus refused. Despite this, he was happier, much happier than he had been in a while. During the first few weeks back, Remus and his friends holed themselves up in the common room between classes, plotting their next prank.

The plan was simple, yet brilliant in its chaos. They would enchant random objects scattered throughout the castle—goblets, quills, cauldrons, even chairs—to swap places with each other at completely random intervals during the day. A goblet might vanish from the Hufflepuff table at breakfast and reappear on Slughorns desk during Potions. A professor’s wand could suddenly become a broomstick mid-lesson, or Filch’s chair might switch places with a cauldron bubbling away in the dungeons.

It was complicated magic—more complicated than James had initially thought when he presented the idea—but Remus and his friends were brilliant, stubborn, and determined wizards. At least according to Sirius.

The chaos would ripple through the school, leaving everyone bewildered and scrambling. Each time an object swapped, it would announce itself with a phrase: “Prongs sends his regards!” or “Padfoot strikes again!” The confusion would build until dinner, when, in one final act of magic, every item would pop back to its rightful place.

It was elegant in its simplicity—mischievous, harmless, and utterly maddening. 

During the last week of January, the Marauders unleashed their prank, and the chaos stretched on until the first of February. Almost immediately, Professor McGonagall pieced together who was responsible. Predictably, the four boys were handed detention for a solid month. Remus, however, could hardly bring himself to care.

Sirius had been unusually attached to him since the start of term. Which, considering it was Sirius, was saying something. It was like his usual behavior from before the Prank, but more intense, more deliberate. He couldn’t seem to stop touching Remus, always finding excuses to brush against him, lean on him, or straddle him on the common room couch. (Yes, that did actually happen. And no, Remus hasn’t recovered). Whether it was a hand on Remus’s shoulder, their knees pressing together under the table, or an arm slung casually (yet possessively) around him, Sirius had made it clear he wasn’t planning to let Remus stray too far.

And Remus found it almost impossible to mind.

—--------------------------

It was a Wednesday, the middle of the week, one of those days where the endless stretch of classes began to gnaw away at the students’ resolve. Remus had endured an especially trying Potions lesson, having been paired with Sirius since the first day of term.

Sirius, as usual, had spent the entire lesson being... Sirius. He leaned too close, brushing shoulders as if their shared workspace wasn’t wide enough. He rested his chin on his hand and watched Remus with a lazy smile, asking questions Remus was almost positive he already knew the answers to. At one point, he swiped a bit of powdered root off Remus’s hand with his finger, claiming it was “for accuracy” and smirking as he dropped it into the cauldron.

“What?” Remus had muttered irritably when he caught Sirius staring again.

“Nothing,” Sirius had replied, his voice annoyingly airy, as though he wasn’t disrupting the entire process. The very long, gruelling, tedious potions process. 

To Remus, it was just Sirius being clingy again, as he had been all term. He assumed Sirius was bored and looking for entertainment, as usual. Sirius liked attention, and Remus had become his favorite target.

But Sirius’s behavior felt different now, in ways Remus couldn’t quite pin down. He wasn’t just hovering—he was focused, his gaze lingering a bit too long, his touch deliberate in a way that made Remus’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

By the end of the lesson, Remus had done most of the work himself, trying to block out Sirius’s incessant chatter and unhelpful antics. As they packed up, Sirius slung an arm around Remus’s shoulders, grinning like he hadn’t just been the most distracting partner in the room.

Now Remus strode alone toward the library, having finally managed to shake Sirius off about five corridors ago—a rare and welcome break. When he arrived, the familiar scent of parchment and dust greeted him, and his eyes landed on Lily, her unmistakable red hair catching the light. She sat near the far shelves, her back turned to him, whispering animatedly with Marlene and Mary.

Smirking to himself, Remus crept up behind her and covered her eyes with his hands. “Guess who,” he said, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

“Hmm,” Lily mused, her tone teasing. “Is it McGonagall, come to assign me more prefect duties?”

“Wrong,” Remus said.

“Slughorn, then? Here to invite me to yet another dinner?”

“Strike two,” he replied, shaking his head even though she couldn’t see it.

Lily huffed, batting his hands away and turning to face him. “Oh, it’s you, Remus. What a disappointment.”

Marlene snorted from across the table. “Poor Lupin, always the last guess.”

“Story of my life,” Remus said dryly, though his lips twitched with a small smile.

Lily raised an eyebrow at him. “Let me guess. You’ve come to hide from Sirius?”

Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. “If by ‘hide,’ you mean ‘seek refuge,’ then yes.”

Mary laughed softly. “Good luck. You know he’ll sniff you out eventually.”

“Don’t remind me,” Remus muttered, leaning against the nearest shelf. “I was hoping for at least an hour of peace.”

“Bold of you to assume,” Lily said, smirking. “He’s probably already asking every portrait in the castle where you’ve gone.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” Remus replied, though the thought wasn’t entirely implausible.

Mary tilted her head, a curious look in her eyes. “So, Remus,” she began, her tone light but probing, “what’s the deal with Sirius anyway? He’s been glued to you lately. Did you save his life over the holidays or something?”

Remus blinked, caught off guard. “What? No, of course not. Sirius is just... Sirius. He gets bored easily, and I suppose I’m an easy target.”

Marlene raised an eyebrow. “Target? Remus, he practically worships the ground you walk on. Half the school’s noticed how he follows you around like a lost puppy.”

Remus didn’t miss the irony in that statement. Good thing Sirius wasn’t here to hear this. “He’s just being clingy. He gets like that sometimes.”

Lily exchanged a look with Mary and Marlene, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Clingy, huh? That’s one way to describe it.”

“I mean it,” Remus insisted, crossing his arms. “It’s not unusual. He’s always been... affectionate.”

“Sure,” Mary said, drawing out the word. “Affectionate. Definitely not something else entirely.”

Remus frowned, feeling increasingly out of his depth. “Why are you lot so interested, anyway?”

Marlene grinned, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Because it’s entertaining, Lupin. And because you’re both utterly enamored for eachother.”

Remus opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, the sound of the library door creaking open made his stomach drop. He didn’t need to look to know who it was—Sirius’s voice rang out moments later.

“Oi, Moony! There you are!”

Lily smirked. “And so it begins.”

Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate all of you.”

“No, you don’t,” Lily said sweetly, giving him a little shove toward the aisle Sirius was striding down. “Go on, your shadow’s found you.”

Remus sighed, resigned, and pushed off the shelf. He moved to meet Sirius in the middle of the aisle, his steps slow and deliberate. He hoped to steer Sirius away from the girls and their watchful, far-too-knowing eyes. As they closed the distance, Sirius’s grin widened, his hair slightly mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it in frustration.

“There you are,” Sirius said, his voice low but warm, like he’d been searching for hours instead of minutes. “Thought I’d lost you.”

Remus gave a tight smile and glanced over his shoulder. The girls were still hovering near the shelves, pretending to browse but clearly trying to eavesdrop. He sighed again and took Sirius by the arm, pulling him a few steps further down the aisle.

“What do you want, Pads?” Remus asked quietly, keeping his tone neutral.

Sirius tilted his head, his brows furrowing slightly. “What do you mean, ‘what do I want’? I wanted to find you.”

“I mean, I was just heading to study,” Remus said, though his voice lacked conviction. “Nothing urgent.”

Sirius gave him a look, one that was both amused and slightly exasperated. “Study? Moony, there are no exams for months. You’re already putting me to shame.”

“Well, someone has to keep us afloat,” Remus muttered, though there was no real heat in it.

Sirius didn’t laugh. Instead, he reached out, gripping Remus’s shoulder lightly. “You’ve been acting weird today. Did I do something? Or—Merlin forbid—did I say something stupid in Potions again?”

Remus blinked, surprised at the genuine concern in Sirius’s voice. “No, you didn’t do anything,” he said quickly. “I just—” He hesitated, struggling to find the words.

Sirius tilted his head, his grip on Remus’s shoulder tightening slightly. “Just what?”

He knew Sirius wasn’t fragile, and if he ever thought Remus treated him like he was, it would only piss him off. But still, there was a quiet concern he couldn’t shake.

Sirius had been through something not many  their age, or perhaps not any, had to go through. Sirius might have looked fine, acted fine, but Remus knew better than to think someone could just brush something like that off.

So Remus didn’t want Sirius to think that Remus was upset with him. He wasn’t. But Remus couldn’t say the truth aloud. He couldn’t tell Sirius how much his attention of late made Remus’ heart race in ways he couldn’t articulate. How, every time Sirius leaned in too close, touched his hand, clutched his side, it made Remus’ stomach twist in knots. Not the bad kind of knots, though. The kind that left him feeling breathless, wanting more.

It made his skin crawl in the best way.

It wasn’t something Remus was ready to admit, not yet. Maybe not ever. He certainly couldn’t tell Sirius that when he got too close, all Remus wanted to do was grab him, push him against the nearest wall, and kiss him senseless. The thought made him ache in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable—hence his new fashion choice to always button up his long robes—but it was real, and it was all his.

“It’s nothing,” Remus said, shaking his head. “Really, Pads. Don’t worry about it.”

But Sirius wasn’t convinced. His gray eyes searched Remus’s face, and for a moment, Remus felt like Sirius could see through all his carefully constructed walls. It was both terrifying and... something else entirely. This crush of his would be the death of him.

“Well, too bad,” Sirius said finally, his usual playfulness creeping back into his tone. “Because I’m worrying about it anyway. And I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me.”

Remus groaned softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, smirking now. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Behind them, Marlene whistled loudly, the sound echoing down the aisles of the library. Remus froze, his cheeks burning as he turned to glance back at her, feeling the weight of her amused gaze.

“Oi, Lupin!” Marlene called, her voice far too loud for the library’s usual hushed atmosphere. “Don’t keep him all to yourself. We were starting to think you two had become joined at the hip or something.”

Remus’s heart thudded in his chest. He could feel Sirius’s smirk beside him, the playful glint in his eyes betraying the fact that he found this all too amusing.

“Shut up, Marlene,” he muttered, his voice low but tinged with embarrassment. 

Sirius just shrugged nonchalantly and turned his attention back to Remus. “Guess we’ve been caught, mate.” His voice was casual, but Remus could hear the slight edge of teasing in it.

Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at Sirius. "Alright, I think I’m going to get some studying done," he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "But you're welcome to join me if you want."

Sirius looked at him for a moment, then grinned. "Nah, I think I’ll skip out this time. I’ve been cooped up in the library long enough already." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I’m heading to the Quidditch pitch to get some flying in before dinner."

Remus gave a small nod. "Fair enough.”

Sirius flashed him a wide grin. He turned to leave, giving Remus a playful wink. "See you around, yeah?"

Remus smiled back, genuine, "Yeah, see you later."

As Sirius walked off, there was no hesitation or tension in his step. He was his usual carefree self, heading toward the exit with his hands in his pockets.

Remus watched him go for a moment too long before returning his attention to the girls at the table. He sat down next to Lily.

Marlene grinned, clearly having enjoyed that moment. “You two are hopeless.”

"Yeah, well, you're one to talk," Lily retorted with a smirk, crossing her arms.

Marlene sputtered in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

Mary burst into laughter, shaking her head as she looked at Marlene.

Remus blinked, completely caught off guard. "Huh. What?" he asked, looking between the three girls.

Lily grinned. "Oh, nothing, just... Marlene tries to act all innocent while we all know she's been procrastinating asking out a certain someone like no one's business."

Marlene groaned, slumping in her chair. "That's not fair!”

Mary was still laughing, clearly enjoying the playful teasing. "It’s true though. You spent half the morning staring off into space, smiling to yourself, not even pretending to do work."

Remus raised an eyebrow, understanding dawning on him. "Who has your knickers in a twist?"

Marlene shot him a mock glare, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," she said, crossing her arms defensively.

Mary leaned in, grinning. "Oh, come on, Marls. We all know you're about as subtle as a Crumple-Horned Snorkack when you're flustered."

Marlene flushed slightly but quickly masked it with a roll of her eyes. "I'm not flustered," she insisted, though her attempt to sound casual wasn’t entirely convincing.

Lily smirked. "Sure, you’re not." She glanced at Remus with a raised eyebrow. "It’s pretty obvious she’s been distracted by someone."

Remus, trying not to look too interested, leaned back in his seat. He hummed knowingly.

Marlene groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Alright, alright, you caught me. But it’s not like it’s a big deal!"

Mary snickered. "Not a big deal? You’ve been practically glowing every time you talk to her."

Her. Curious. Remus thought.

Marlene shot her a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "I can’t help it if someone’s been, well, preoccupying my thoughts of late," she muttered, still trying to act cool.

Lily and Mary exchanged knowing looks. 

Remus leaned forward, grinning. "I think Marlene's got it bad."

Marlene rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the blush creeping up her neck. "Okay, okay, enough teasing. You’re all terrible."

"But you love us," Mary teased, winking at her.

"Unfortunately," Marlene said, though her smile betrayed her.

——————