It is a truth universally acknowledged that Remus Lupin hates people.
Okay, okay. Perhaps ‘hate’ is a strong word, but the truth is that Remus would rather not deal with people where possible. Sirius knows this because he is (one of) Remus’s best friend(s). He knows that Remus does not like to be inconvenienced by other humans and their feelings. He knows that Remus does not like monitoring his behaviour or censoring himself around others, and he knows that Remus generally sticks to what and who he knows.
Remus is not rude by any means; he just doesn’t like certain things. Small-talk, loud noises, fake niceties, et cetera. He prefers people to just be who they are: no fronts, no pretences. This is why he has a relatively small friendship group. James, Sirius, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary – these are his friends. Anyone else is either an acquaintance or a stranger, no in-betweens.
Remus is not unkind or unpleasant to be around either. He is actually very witty and very nice and very lovely, but only with and around certain people. He is amiable enough and will talk to people outside of his immediate friend group when such a thing is required, but he will not stick around if he is bored or irritated.
Being not the biggest fan of people in general and also a great problem-solver, Remus often goes out of his way to make his days as easy and stress-free as possible, which often involves limiting the annoyances of his everyday life and knowing his boundaries, and he does this by putting a stop to whatever it is that is causing him (or may cause him) distress.
Sirius, being (one of) his best friend(s), knows this.
Bed (January 2004)
By his third year at Hogwarts Academy, Sirius had endured many a detention, but truth be known, he didn’t really mind them. He enjoys being given a job – wash the cauldrons, do inventory for the cupboard supplies, re-organise the textbooks, and so on. He enjoys monotony of these tasks. He likes that he can just switch his brain off and focus on the chore at hand. (It doesn’t hurt that he is nearly always monitored by their Head of House, Minerva McGonagall, who is quite fond of him.)
Tonight’s detention, though, had been one of the less fun ones: scrubbing the floors of the third-floor corridor. His hands are red-raw, his knees hurt, and he feels like a sweaty mess.
All Sirius wants to do when he gets back to his dormitory is lie on his bed for twenty minutes before going down to the Great Hall for the evening meal. What happens instead, though, when he walks into the dormitory, is he finds his trunk being dragged across the room by his roommate.
“Uh, Remus?” he says, after a moment of watching. “What are you doing?”
“We’re switching beds,” Remus says, all no-nonsense, not even looking up as he moves the trunk.
“We are?”
“Yes.”
Sirius nods slowly and looks around the room to find James and Peter’s stuff has not been moved. “All of us?” he asks.
“No, just you and me,” Remus replies, finally pushing Sirius’s trunk into place at the bottom of the bed.
Sirius moves over to his new bed – located in the corner of the room, next to Peter’s bed, farthest from the window which has a rather horrible draught – and sits down. “You know that the window has a draught, right?” he says.
Remus huffs and gives his own trunk one final boot so that it is sitting firmly at the end of Sirius’s (now ex) bed. “Yes, I am aware,” he mutters. “You whinge about it all the time.”
Sirius splutters indignantly and says, “I do not whinge!”
“No, of course not,” Remus says wryly. (He is not looking at Sirius, but Sirius can tell that the other boy is rolling his eyes.) “Look, I run hot. I need the window to cool down. You’re always saying that you’re cold, so I just figured it’d be easier for us to swap. I can swap us back if you want.”
“No, no,” he replies quickly. “If you need the window, you need the window. I’m not going to argue.”
“Mm, thought so,” Remus murmurs. He looks at his new bed and then at the window and then at Sirius. With a rather decisive nod, he asks, “Right. That’s that, then.”
Sirius smiles and leans back on his bed which, for some bizarre reason, feels much cloudier than his old bed felt. He reckons he could climb under the covers and be fast asleep within five minutes if he permitted himself. But it’s barely six o’clock – far too early to go to bed. He glances at his old bed and hopes Remus will not be uncomfortable in it.
“How was your detention?” Remus asks.
Sirius sighs and says, “Long.”
“Right,” Remus mutters with another nod. “Well, James and Pete are probably downstairs, so I’m going to head down. Do you want to come with, or do you need a minute?”
Sirius thinks on it but quickly decides that he can sleep when he’s dead and that he’d rather hang out with his friends before dinner.
“I’ll come with,” he replies, standing up from his new bed and following Remus out of the room.
Chocolate (October 2005)
It is nearly Halloween and most of the Marauders are in the dormitory. Peter and Sirius are playing Exploding Snap and Sirius is losing. Badly. James, being newly appointed captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, is strategizing new tactics and moves, his bed a mountain of papers, parchment, and notebooks. Remus is the only one missing and that is because he had decided to head into town through the Secret Passageway – Sirius can’t remember what his friend went to do, but Remus has been gone for well over an hour.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, as they say.
Sirius puts a card down and it sparks but does not explode. He breathes a sigh of relief and Peter is just about to put his own card down when the door opens and Remus comes waltzing in, two full carrier bags in hand.
“Hello, hello, hello,” he says, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a magazine which he throws onto James’s bed. “Newest edition – there’s something about Rosie MacNimauer on the front page, I think she’s moving from the Holyhead Harpies to the Montrose Magpies.”
“What?!” James scrambles to open the magazine. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God – it’s happening. She is actually becoming a Magpie!”
Remus grins and moves over to where Sirius and Peter are. He hoys a packet of Fizzing Whizzbees to Peter and hands a bar of Honeydukes’ finest milk chocolate to Sirius.
“Cheers!” Peter grins, ripping the packet open without hesitation and shoving a bunch of sherbet sweets into his gob.
“Yeah, thanks, Moony,” Sirius says, opening the bar and offering a piece to Remus, who takes it with a small smile.
“No problem,” Remus says, eating the proffered piece before moving over to Sirius’s bed – more specifically over to Sirius’s bedside table where he opens the middle drawer and proceeds to pour one of the bags into it.
“What are you doing?” Sirius asks, standing up to see if Remus is really doing what he thinks he is doing.
“Hm?” Remus hums, throwing the plastic bag aside and arranging the sweets and chocolate.
“What are you doing?” he repeats.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks like you’re restocking my chocolate drawer,” he replies.
“Correctamundo,” Remus says, still shifting the sweets into some sort of particular order.
Sirius is struck dumb for a second before the next question comes to mind: “Why?”
“He always does,” Peter says, like it’s obvious.
Sirius frowns, “What?”
Remus turns to look at him, a funny smile on his face. “What, did you think the House Elves were doing it for you?”
Sirius shifts, realising that he has been horribly sheltered. “Well... I mean... Kind of.”
There is a beat of silence and then Peter is laughing loudly at him, James is burying his face in his hands to hide his cackles, and Remus is grinning at him with something akin to amused pity.
“Oh, Padfoot,” James says, shaking his head. “That is so embarrassing.”
“Oh, piss off!” Sirius snaps. “Like you knew that Remus was doing it.”
“Well, I at least knew it wasn’t the House Elves,” James replies smugly. “Anyway, it’s not a big leap. He gets me a new Quidditch Weekly magazine whenever he goes into town.”
“Why?”
“Because I like—”
“No, not you,” Sirius says to James before turning to Remus and saying, “You. Why have you been restocking my chocolate drawer?”
Remus shrugs nonchalantly and answers, “I got sick of you nicking everyone else’s chocolate, so I started keeping you stocked up. Have done since, what, third year?”
He receives murmurs of confirmation from James and Peter.
“Why didn’t you take any credit for it?” Sirius asks, because his chocolate drawer has never been low, and he feels rather selfish for never having known – for never even thinking about – who was responsible for replenishing it. He has at least two years’ worth of sweets to thank his friend for.
“I wasn’t looking for credit. You wanted chocolate, so I got you chocolate,” Remus replies, like it’s not a big deal. “It’s not a big deal.”
Sirius doesn’t know what to say because it is a big deal to him. Remus, his friend who is cool and nice and who he thinks has very pretty eyes and is very handsome, has done this wonderfully nice thing for him. It is unwarranted and lovely, and sure it’s because Remus apparently found his pilfering ways annoying, but still. Remus has kept Sirius’s drawer full for years and he really didn’t need to.
“You’d do the same for me,” Remus says, moving over to his own bed and reaching into the second bag to remove a sketchpad and some charcoal pencils.
“Thank you,” he replies quietly.
“No problem,” Remus says with a casual shrug.
And that’s that. Sirius returns to his game with Peter, James goes back to his planning, and Remus opens his new sketchpad and begins doodling. Nothing more is said about it, though Sirius does remember to thank Remus whenever he notices a new batch of sweets in his drawer.
Howler (May 2007)
The scarlet envelope barely hits the Gryffindor table before it rises up and starts screeching:
“SIRIUS ORION BLACK! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? HAVE YOU NO SENSE OF SHAME? OF DECORUM? HAVE YOU NO RESPECT FOR OUR FAMILY NAME? WILL YOU NEVER CEASE THIS ENDLESS PLIGHT YOU HAVE AGAINST THIS FAM—”
Walburga Black’s wretched voice is cut off abruptly when the letter suddenly bursts into flames, much to the delight of those around the Great Hall. Howlers for Sirius Black are not uncommon, but they have been rather less frequent since he left the House of Black and went to live with the Potters last year. This one, he suspects, has something to do with his public confirmation that he likes cock.
When Sirius looks across the table, he sees Remus storing his wand back behind his ear.
“Good Lord, your mother has an annoying voice,” he says, all cavalier-like, and goes back to eating his toast.
After a moment of silence, in which no one really knows what to say, James claps Remus on the shoulder and agrees, “Aye, that she does.”
“How you ever put up with that, Padfoot, is beyond me,” Peter adds.
Sirius is speechless but finally manages to finds the words: “Moony, did you just Incendio my mother’s Howler mid-speech?”
“Yes,” Remus replies, raising an eyebrow. “Problem?”
“Not at all,” he answers, and he is secretly thinking: If I was allowed, I’d be dragging you into the nearest closet for that display.
Hair (January 2008)
Seventh year brings about a lot changes.
It is the year that the Marauders (Remus, Peter, Sirius and James) and the Valkyries (Lily, Marlene, Mary and Dorcas) finally merge their separate groups into one big assembly. It is the year that Peter loses the Marauder’s Map. It is the year that James and Lily decide that friendship is no longer enough and get together for reals. It is the year that Sirius decides they will all live together after school – him and Remus and Peter and James.
The last of which currently has Sirius lamenting about how he will have no one to do his hair once they graduate since the girls won’t be within a shout’s reach.
“You could just do it yourself,” Peter mutters, frowning down at the chessboard.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius replies. “I can do most things, but plaits? I just can’t get them equal. Not like Lily can.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, come here,” Remus grumbles, putting his sketchpad aside and shifting to sit on the edge of the common room couch. “Sit down.”
Sirius, standing up in front of the fireplace, pauses in his rant. “What? Why?”
“Because I am sick and tired of listening to you moan about how no one ever does your hair apart from the girls and how, once we’re done here, you’ll be a mangy mutt,” Remus replies, “So, come here and sit down. I’m going to do it for you.”
Sirius laughs but when he sees Remus’s face, he realises that Remus is serious. “You?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Sirius is not one to argue with a Serious Remus, so he grabs his hairbrush and a couple of bobbles, and sits down on the floor, shuffling back so that he is right between Remus’s legs. He has always found it relaxing when someone else does his hair for him. It has gotten rather long since his last haircut and he’s thought about cutting it off when they leave school, but maybe he’ll keep growing it out and see how long it gets. He is, as yet, undecided, because he really does like how nice it feels when others play with it.
Remus starts by combing his fingers through Sirius’s locks. And then there’s brushing and crisscrossing and it is surprisingly relaxing having Remus, with his strong hands and nimble fingers, do his hair.
“There – done,” Remus says after a few minutes, tapping Sirius’s shoulder.
Sirius stands up and grabs James’s two-way mirror out of his bag. He turns his head this way and that, admiring himself in the small reflective surface.
“Good Merlin,” he says, quite shocked. “I actually look alright.”
Remus grunts, shifting back on the couch and picking up his sketchpad again.
“Thanks, Moons,” Sirius says with an uncontrollable grin, unable to look away from his reflection.
“Shut up,” Remus mutters.
“I’m being serious,” he replies, looking at his friend with bright eyes. “You’ve done a great job. Did Lily teach you how to do this?”
Remus shrugs, “I figured that since we’ll all be living together after school, she won’t always be around to do it for you, so one of us had best learn. And I wasn't going to leave it to the others. I mean, you've seen James’s nest.”
“N’aawww, did you hear that, lads?” James says with a mischievous grin, galliantly ignoring the slight at his hair. “Remus Lupin has a heart.”
“He woofs you,” Peter adds with his own laugh.
“Aw, Moony!” Sirius says as he flops down onto the couch next to Remus and gives the other boy a boisterous kiss on the cheek. “I knew you cared.”
“Piss off,” Remus grumbles, shrugging Sirius off but clearly fighting a smile.
Nails (July 2008)
“Ugh, my nails are atrocious,” Sirius mutters, staring down at his nails which are so chipped that they are basically all nail but for a few little specks of varnish.
July of 2008 is unlike any other – in that it is thunderstorms one day and sweltering heat the next, but this doesn’t stop the group from enjoying their last summer before adulthood. They only have two months until September when they will all officially step into the Real World.
James and Marlene have decided to go into Auror training come the end of summer. Mary and Lily have earned an internship and will be studying under the great Potioneer Damocles Belby. Remus and Peter will be going into further education at the Magical University of London, Remus to study Advanced Arithmancy with a side focus on Defence Against the Dark Arts and the Study of Ancient Runes whilst Peter studies Xylomancy and Herbology.
Sirius is due to start his Healer residency in October with Dorcas and he’d like to go into his new job with nice nails, but he’d also like to have nice nails now. (After graduation, Sirius bought a nice three-bedroomed house in Godric’s Hollow. He converted the dining room into a fourth bedroom so that the Marauders could all live together. Marlene and the girls rented a three-bedroom house on the next street over, so accessibility is not so much of an issue.) But the girls are not available today since they are all having Bottomless Brunch.
“Mooooony, look at them!” he whines, pushing his hand into his friend’s face.
“Bugger off, I’m busy,” Remus mutters, bringing his book closer to his face.
Sirius huffs and slumps back in his chair, watching the rain spit down outside. “When do you think Mary will be back?”
“She’ll be absolutely stonkered when she gets back, mate,” James replies, pushing his glasses up his nose as he lies on the sofa and plays with his Snitch. “Why don’t you just do it yourself?”
Sirius releases a lamenting sigh. “If I could do that, I wouldn’t have to ask the girls to.”
“Shit’s sake,” Remus growls and jams his bookmark into his book before throwing it on the table. “Go and get your varnish.”
Sirius looks at the other man but before he can say anything, Peter laughs and says, “No offense, mate, but I think he’d rather try himself than let you to massacre his nails.”
“Just get the stuff and meet me in the kitchen,” Remus says to Sirius before he stands up and storms off to said kitchen – presumably to make himself a calming cup of tea.
Remus has been a bit on edge recently, though Sirius doesn’t know if it is because of the dank weather or the upcoming Full Moon. He grabs his nail varnish from the coffee table and follows his friend into the kitchen. Remus has indeed made himself a cup of tea and is sitting at the table. Sirius takes a seat and hands the varnish over to Remus.
“Are you really going to do my nails?” he asks.
“I’m going to try,” Remus mutters. “What colour?”
Sirius chooses midnight blue, and Remus takes his hands and begins working. Sirius watches for the first minute but then decides to take the time to study Remus instead.
He is often given the opportunity to admire Remus, what with them being best friends and living together, and he takes these moments whenever possible. He smiles at the concentrated expression, the furrow between Remus’s brows, the way his hazel eyes focus on Sirius’s hands and nothing else. Sirius doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of staring at the other man.
“Bloody hell, you’ve actually done a decent job,” he says, when Remus releases his hands.
“Oh, ta very much,” Remus replies sarcastically as he puts the lid back on the nail varnish.
Sirius tuts, “Don’t be a dick. You’ve never done my nails before, how was I supposed to know you had this secret talent? How did you learn how to do this, anyway? Don’t tell me you’re secretly a manicurist.”
“No, Mary showed me how to.”
Sirius frowns, “What? When? Why?”
“You’re loud, Padfoot,” Remus explains calmly. “I mean, you can be really fucking loud and really fucking annoying when you want to be. When you’re in one of your moods, you interrupt my Quiet Time, so the only way for my Quiet Time to remain quiet is for someone to do your nails or your hair or whatever, so I figured I’d learn how to, and then you’d have nothing to moan about every fortnight and I’ll be able to finally have some bloody peace and quiet.” He eyes Sirius for a second before he says, “This is for purely selfish reasons.”
Sirius squints at his friend for a long minute before he finally nods, understanding that there is some truth behind Remus’s words but also an undeniable tone of Remus just being a good friend.
“I don’t complain that much, do I?” he asks.
Remus purses his lips but eventually answers, “No. You don’t.”
Sirius beams brightly and stands up to lean over the table and give Remus a big kiss on the cheek. Remus makes a face but doesn’t shove Sirius away, all too familiar with how affectionate Sirius is with his friends.
“I am forever in your debt, Moony,” he says before he flounces out of the room to show off his nails to their other friends.
Gloves (November 2008)
Bonfire Night is one of the best nights of the year, in Sirius’s fine opinion. He doesn’t really care for the history behind it, but he does enjoy the festivities – the arctic weather and the explosive fireworks. As luck would have it, everyone is free on Bonfire Night which means that the group are meeting up. They decide to go to one of the fields nearby to light a bonfire, have some drinks, and set off some fireworks.
“Are you cold?” Remus asks.
Sirius, who is shivering and clenching his fists to try and preserve some heat, glares at his friend. “Yes,” he answers through gritted teeth. “And don’t say ‘I told you so’ because I know very well that you told me so.”
Remus rolls his eyes and reaches into his pocket. “Here,” he says, holding out a pair of gloves.
Sirius stares down at the gloves. “What’re these?”
“A couple of gnomes,” Remus replies sarcastically. “What do you think they are?”
“Oh, ha-ha,” he replies. “I can’t take your gloves, Moony, won’t you be—”
“I’ll be fine,” Remus says, waving away Sirius’s protests and shoving the gloves into Sirius’s hands. “I run hot; you know that. But if it helps, I’ve got my own.”
Remus holds up a hand to show off fingerless mittens. Sirius, suitably appeased, takes the spare pair and pulls them on. Remus takes Sirius’s now glove-laden hands in his own and rubs at them to warm him up.
“There,” he says. “Better?”
Sirius looks at the other man and is reminded, yet again, of just how lovely Remus is. How lovely and sweet and kind and specific and wonderful.
“Much,” he replies. “Thank you.”
“Right, are we ready for this?” James says – and without further ado, he points his wand at the fire bin in the middle of the field and says a quick Incendio.
The bin erupts into flames and Peter goes about setting off the fireworks. The group whoops and cheers whilst passing a bottle of Firewhisky around. The bonfire burns and crackles and lets out a whole bunch of heat, but Sirius is only slightly warmer. Remus, the observant little shit that he is, notices this. He grunts and removes his scarf, turning to wrap it around Sirius’s neck.
Sirius tries to protest, “Oh. No, Remus, won’t you—”
But Remus cuts in with, “You’re still cold, yes?”
“Well...” Sirius hesitates but eventually answers, “Yes.”
“Right,” Remus says, rather decisively. “Well, I’m not, so take my scarf – no arguments.”
Sirius does not argue and allows Remus to wrap the scarf around him. He instantly feels warmer. The wool is thick and soft against his neck, and warm thanks to it having been wrapped around Remus mere moments ago, and it smells nice and earthy like Remus. Remus settles it nicely, offers a soft smile, and then returns to his place beside Sirius, taking a sip of the Firewhisky and passing it onto Sirius who takes a drink and then passes it onto Marlene.
Sirius does not say ‘thank you’ with words but with actions as he sidles closer to Remus, leaning into the other man’s side and resting his head on Remus’s shoulder. Remus accepts it with a slightly turning to accommodate Sirius.
Vitamins (February 2009)
Cold and flu season hits the group like a train.
They manage to escape it throughout November and December but when the new year hits, they drop like flies. January 2009 becomes known as the month of Drooling Snot & Hacking Coughs.
Sirius and Dorcas fall first thanks to them working in the Hospital and therefore being around sick people all of the time. Sirius takes it home to the lads; Dorcas takes it home to the ladies. Remus, being a werewolf and therefore untouchable thanks to his quick immune system, is forced to take care of his friends. When February finally comes around, the illnesses have made their rounds, and everyone is better. Mostly. There is still the threat of illness hanging over them.
Sirius is sitting in the kitchen with a hot toddy. He was supposed to go food shopping with Remus earlier, but he slept in. He is taking a sip of his hot beverage when Remus comes into the kitchen with a weird amount of carrier bags which he deposits on the floor.
“Morning, Moony,” he greets quietly. “Need any help?”
“Nope,” Remus replies, moving one of the carrier bags to the benchtop and removing some items. “All good. I got you some chocolate bourbons and that special coffee you like and some vitamins.”
“You got me what?” Sirius asks.
“Vitamins,” Remus repeats, tossing a little bottle over to Sirius who just-say manages to catch it. “Multi-vitamins, to be exact. They’re supposed to build your immune system or something. I don’t know. You’re a Healer – you should know this.”
“I’m a wizard, Remus. We have potions, not little...” He inspects the bottle and shakes it. “...what are these – tablets? Gummies?”
“Yes,” Remus replies, bustling around the kitchen as he puts the food away. “It says on the bottle that you should take one a day. I also got some cold-and-flu tablets, just in case the vitamins don’t work. And some cough medicine lozenges.”
“Moony, why—”
“You were out of commission for two weeks last month,” Remus says. “I’m just trying to avoid that from happening again. It was really rather inconvenient for me.”
Sirius frowns and looks down at the bottle. Remus sees the frown and must take it as a negative as he goes on to say:
“I don’t like seeing you unwell. Any of you, but especially you because you are simultaneously a very needy sick person and the worst patient. And since you work with sick people all day, I figured it’d be best to play it safe and try to keep you healthy as possible.”
Sirius smiles, overwhelmed with appreciation and adoration for the other man, and opens the lid to take a gummy out. He inspects it for a moment before popping it into his mouth and chewing. It’s not the nicest thing he has ever put in his mouth, but it is also not the worst thing.
“That’s really nice of you, Moons, thank you,” he says, because he knows that deep down Remus is just a selfless person masquerading as a selfish person.
“Yeah, whatever,” Remus grunts.
“So, you’ll be joining me on this path to healthiness?”
Remus stares at him for a long moment but eventually says, “If I must.”
Sirius grins and holds out the green bottle. “You must.”
Remus stares at it for a second before takes one of the proffered gummies and eats one.
Lunch (March 2009)
Being in the Healer Residency program is everything that Sirius had thought it would be and then some. It is fast-paced and full of opportunity to learn, and no day is the same which keeps Sirius engaged and interested. He is currently in his Accident & Emergency rotation and has been on his feet nonstop.
He is five hours into a ten-hour shift and has just finished watching Senior Healer Skelstropp fix a rare curse which made the patient’s skin slip off. It was both gross and mesmerising. And right now, Sirius is on his way to the breakroom for a well-deserved lunch. He just needs to drop some files off and then—
“Remus?”
Sirius spies his friend standing in the hospital lobby. Remus isn’t talking to anyone, but he doesn’t look hurt, so Sirius surmises that his friend is not in need of medical assistance. Remus turns and automatically brightens when he spots Sirius.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, inwardly preening when he notices Remus’s smile get wider as he gets closer.
“I brought you lunch,” Remus replies, holding up a box which presumably holds food.
“You did?”
Remus nods, “You didn’t make yourself anything this morning and I’ve lived with you long enough to know that that means you’ll come home tonight and whine about how unfulfilling the cafeteria dinners are and how hungry you are and how we have nothing in the fridge, so I thought I might as well avoid that scenario and bring you some food now.”
Sirius rolls his eyes and replies, “I don’t whine. I brood handsomely.”
“Be that as it may,” Remus replies, actively and noticeably not denying Sirius’s claims, “The point remains: You will mention how hungry you are, so here.”
“Well, I shan’t lie, Moony, I was starting to feel a bit peckish,” he admits. “I’ve got to drop this file off with the Mediwitches on Floor 3 but then I’m on my break for twenty minutes if you want to join me? I mean, if you don’t have to get back...”
Remus glances down at his wristwatch and does a mental calculation. He nods and says, “I have time. I’ll meet you at the picnic benches outside?”
Sirius grins and says, “Sounds like a plan,” before he turns and quickly makes his way to Floor 3 to drop the stuff off.
Flowers (April 2009)
At least once a week, the group try to get together.
Although they see each other often, they always keep Saturdays free so that they can meet up and keep up to date with each other. No dates, no plans with university or work friends. Just the Marauders and the Valkyries hanging out, like ye olde times. This has been the case since they all graduated from Hogwarts Academy and more specifically since they all became adults and had go down their own separate paths.
Sometimes they go out and grab a drink or eat some food, sometimes they stay in and have a film night. Sometimes they play boardgames, and sometimes they do a whole ‘Come Dine With Me’ thing and each take turns cooking for everyone before rating each other’s dishes.
Tonight, they are having a Potluck of sorts, and the Marauders are hosting.
Sirius has done most of the cooking with Peter as his sous chef. Together they have made Cottage Pie, buttery mashed potatoes, panaculty, campfire stew, with blondies and brownies for dessert. James had the foresight to get some cheesy garlic bread. Remus, having been studying in the library all day and fatally bad at cooking, had decided to contribute with crisps.
The women have contributed to the feast as well and have brought with them: applesauce pulled pork sandwiches (Marlene), Buffalo Cauliflower Bites (Dorcas), Gochujang Fried Rice (Mary), bacon and cheese potato skins (Lily), and a trifle (all of them). The table is laden with colourful and different dishes.
“Oh, Gawd, this all looks soooo good,” Mary moans, eyeing the food up. “Why can’t we eat?”
“Because Moony is not here yet,” Sirius says, rather firmly.
“He wouldn’t mind,” James mutters but is silenced when Sirius throws a glare at him.
“We are not starting without Remus,” Sirius replies, placing the plates on the table.
“Blue Lagoons are ready,” Marlene says, carrying a pitcher into the living room and pouring a glass for herself and her girlfriend.
“Thanks, babe,” Dorcas replies, taking the drink and giving Marlene a peck on the cheek.
“Someone put the music channels on,” Peter says, grabbing his own cocktail.
Lily takes the television remote and surfs the music channels until she finds a song that she likes. Satisfied, she settles on the sofa next to James who wraps an arm around her shoulders. Luckily, they don’t have to wait long for the final member of their party to arrive as Remus gets home about five minutes later.
“Hi, hello, sorry I’m late,” Remus says, kicking his shoes off at the front door and stumbling into the room. “I went to the shop and got some extra Butterbeer – I’m not going through the shitshow we endured last time we didn’t have enough drinks.” He puts the case of Butterbeer on the side table and adds, “Oh, and here – these are for you.”
Remus holds out a bouquet of colourful and rather splendiferous flowers, and Sirius freezes – not in a bad way, but in more of a what-is-going-on-I-am-confusion way – and stares down at the gift that is apparently for him. Everyone else in the room seems to have paused as well, watching him and Remus from their respective spots. Remus doesn’t seem to realise, though.
“Oh,” Sirius says dumbly, taking the bouquet from his friend. “Thank you, Moony. They’re lovely. What, um... What are these for, exactly?”
“Does there have to be a reason?” Remus replies.
Sirius takes a second to think about it and answers, “No, I suppose not, but...”
Remus seems to notice the others and he ignored them as he says, “You like flowers, so I got you flowers. You don’t want them?”
“No! I want them. They’re mine now, no take-backsies,” he says, pulling the flowers closer to his chest so that he can admire them more. “Thank you, Remus.”
Remus smiles, looking rather satisfied with himself. “You’re welcome,” he says.
“I suppose I’m just a bit confused as to why you’ve done it, is all,” he says quietly.
“No mystery behind it. I was walking through the shop, I saw them, and I remembered you saying that no one ever gets you flowers because you’re a bloke, so here. You can’t say no one gets you flowers anymore because I just did,” he explains, and when he looks around the room, he finds everyone watching them. “What? It’s not weird.”
“It is a bit, mate,” Peter responds. “I mean, it’s not his birthday and he hasn’t even done his Healer exams yet. There is literally no reason for it.”
“And why does he get special treatment anyway? What if we want flowers?” James asks.
“Do you want flowers?” Remus asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” James answers.
“Well, then,” Remus says with a shrug. “I’ll not waste my sickles.”
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Lily speaks, her green eyes sparkling with glee. “You were walking past the flowers and decided to get some for Sirius for no reason other than that he once made a passing remark about how no one ever gets him flowers... Is that right?”
Remus seems to hesitate but then, “Well... I mean... yes.”
“Aw, Remus, you’re so cute,” Mary coos.
“M’not cute,” he mutters with a frown.
“You are,” Marlene says with a smirk and Dorcas agrees, “You so are.”
“Oh, bugger off, I was just trying to be nice,” he snipes.
“Why don’t you do that for me?” Lily asks, thwacking James in the chest.
“What? Well, that’s – I mean, I – Aw, nice one, Moony,” James says. “Now I’m going to get wrong for not being more thoughtful.”
“I can’t believe Remus is a better boyfriend than you, and they aren’t even dating,” Marlene says.
The throwaway words and their implications make Remus’s ears go red and Sirius’s cheeks heat up. Sirius covers it by lifting the flowers to his face.
“Oh, fucking hell, I wouldn’t’ve done it if I thought I’d get bloody interrogated,” Remus mutters.
“Oi, if you want to buy me flowers, I certainly won’t complain,” Sirius states, still smiling at his gift.
Remus hums but does not say anything and instead heads off to his bedroom to put his bookbag away and change into his comfortable clothes.
Sirius goes into the kitchen to put the flowers in some water. He doesn’t have a vase, so he grabs a couple of pint glasses that he procured (read: stole) from the local pub, fills them with water, and splits the bouquet into two smaller flower arrangements. With a satisfied smile, he walks into the living room and places the two bunches on either end of the coffee table so that everyone can admire them.
“I want someone to get me flowers for no reason,” Mary mutters.
“I’ll get you flowers, Mare,” Marlene says. “I get Dorcas flowers all the time.”
Dorcas beams proudly, “Yes she does.”
Remus comes downstairs a minute later and says, “Right, who’s ready for food?”
June 2009
Although Sirius is beloved and friendly with everyone in the hospital, he only has three people that he actively seeks out when on breaks or if he needs help: Dorcas, who he knows separate to work as she is part of his inner circle; Rhett, who moved to the UK from Minnesota to do his residency; and Lucinda, who is two years ahead in the residency program. When he walks into the cafeteria, he finds his workmates sitting at a table next to the windows with a couple of other Junior Healers.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gents,” he greets, taking a seat at the table. “What are we gossiping about this fine afternoon?”
“Our other halves,” says one of the Junior Healers – Hestia, he thinks her name is.
“All good things I hope?” he says, “Or are we going rather the opposite way today?”
“I was just saying how Marlene surprised me last night with this bang-up dinner,” Dorcas explains. “She took me to that French restaurant, the one in Soho – you know the one? It was divine.”
“Whereas I had smiley faces and turkey dinosaurs,” Lucinda says. “You see the difference?”
Sirius laughs and takes a bite of his sandwich – ham and pease pudding, courtesy of Remus.
“Oh, don’t ask him,” says one of the other Junior Healers – Annayah, he thinks her name is. “His other half probably Portkeyed him to Mexico just to get some tacos.”
Sirius pauses and says, “My other half?”
“Yes, the lanky fellow,” Rosie says primly. She is a little older than the others since she was an Auror for a few years before she decided to join the Healer program. “Tall, broad shoulders, weird name. Handsome chap, in an odd way.”
Sirius only has one friend who is tall and lanky and handsome with a weird name. “Remus?”
“That’s the fella,” she says, with a few murmurs of agreement from others around the table.
Dorcas laughs and says, “Remus isn’t his boyfriend.”
This statement is met with numerous confused looks and chuckles – even from Lucinda and Rhett – and Sirius confirms, “Remus is my friend.”
“But doesn’t he come here and eat with you all the time?” Rosie asks.
“Well, yes, but that’s because we’re friends,” he says. “And the university isn’t far away.”
Hestia frowns curiously and says, “But doesn’t he also get you gifts and chocolate and stuff for, like, no reason?”
“He does,” Dorcas says, “But they really are just friends.”
“Huh,” Rhett says. “I wish I had friends like that.”
The occupants of the table laugh, Sirius included, and the conversation moves on, but it seems that a seed has been planted in Sirius’s mind as he begins to think about things. He thinks about his and Remus’s friendship, and he wonders if Remus’s behaviour is unusual.
He doesn’t find it unusual or romantic, but it certainly appears that way to outsiders. But what do they know? He and Remus, this is the way they are. They take care of each other, always have done, always will do. It is simply a misunderstanding – one that has been cleared up now. He and Remus are friends, that’s it.
Sirius shoves that seed of curiosity into a piece of sunless earth in the back of his mind.
July 2009
It is mid-July and the sun is out.
Everyone is over at the Valkyrie Manor today for a barbecue which Marlene is spearheading. There are two grills on the go: one for meat products, the other for vegetarian alternatives. It all smells good, Sirius thinks. He might try both options. The food is nowhere near ready but even if it were, they wouldn’t be able to eat yet. They are waiting for Remus to get back from a last-minute trip to the shops to get some burger sauce.
While Marlene is cooking and the others are playing a game of ground-based Quidditch, Sirius is relaxing on a sun lounger with the warm sun on his skin and a gentle breeze brushing through his hair. He is startled when a small coin – a Muggle one pence from the looks of it – is thrown his way. He glances and sees Lily grinning at him.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
When Sirius offers only a smile in response, she moves around him to take a seat on the lounger next to him. She allows a few seconds of silence to settle over them before she continues:
“Sirius, you’ve been inordinately quiet today. What’s on your mind, hon?”
Sirius shrugs and mutters, “It’s nothing.”
“No?”
“No, it’s just...” He sighs and stretches out. “Healer Davies made a comment yesterday and it just has me thinking.”
“What did she say?” Lily prompts gently.
“She said – Listen, I know that she meant nothing by it, but I’m... All she said was that my boyfriend was in the canteen if I wanted to take my lunch early,” he answers.
“And...?” Lily prompts.
“And she was referring to Remus,” he says. “You know, our friend Remus, who is definitely not my boyfriend but who everyone at the hospital seems to think is. It’s not a big deal. I know that she just made a mistake and, honestly, it’s far from the first time she has said that – or something like that, but I don’t know.”
“Right. And it got you thinking about…?”
“Well, she’s... She’s not the only one who has made this assumption about Remus, and it just...” He huffs and says, “I don’t know why everyone thinks that he’s my boyfriend.”
“Are you joking?” Marlene asks from where she is standing at the grills. “You don’t know why other people might think that Remus Lupin is your boyfriend?”
"No...?"
“It’s because he’s sweet on you,” Mary says.
Sirius frowns, “What do you mean?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed all the things he does for you,” Dorcas says, holding a Quaffle next to the makeshift goal.
“Honestly, Sirius, he’s so sweet to you, it’s sickening to watch,” Marlene mutters. “Sometimes.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, he’s always making you packed lunches or coming to work to eat with you, and he’s always picking you up after your shift,” Dorcas says.
“He’s my mate, of course he does that,” Sirius replies.
“Riiiiiight,” Marlene murmurs. “Does anyone else do that for you? James, or perhaps Pete? Lily? Mary? I know I certainly don’t.”
“That’s different,” he replies. “You guys aren’t Remus. He’s nice.”
“Oh, okay. So, Remus would do that for us too?” Marlene asks. “Hey, hands up, who here has had Remus Lupin regularly come to their place of work and have lunch with them?”
Sirius looks around the group – Dorcas shakes her head, Mary and Lily hum quietly, Peter shrugs – but no one raises their hands.
“Oh, would you look at that,” Marlene points out. “No one else gets that treatment. It’s almost like it’s only you that Remus goes out of his way for.”
Sirius rolls his eyes and says, “That’s not indicative.”
“No?” Mary says. “Okay, well, how’s about this? Does Remus get us flowers and chocolates for no apparent reason, or is it only you?”
Sirius hesitates, trying to think back to a time he’d witnessed such a thing – or even a time where someone mentioned Remus doing that but, well...
“I suppose it’s only me so far – but he might be gearing up to do the same for you,” he answers.
“He’s not,” Peter replies matter-of-factly. “And what about the fact that he learned stuff for you?”
“Like what?”
“Like, did we learn how to do plaits or paint nails just for you?”
“No...”
“And do we let you rant at us for forty-five minutes about how dumb people are to not believe in extraterrestrial life?” Lily asks.
“I just don’t understand how—”
“Yes, or no?”
“No,” he answers meekly, because it is true. Remus is perhaps the only person in their friendship group that Sirius knows he can go to when he needs to rant. Whether it’s a new subject or an old tried-and-tested one, Remus is always there. The others tend to switch off but not Remus.
“Right, and do we lie in bed with you when you’re sick, even though we know it’ll only lead to us being sick as well?” Marlene asks.
“Remus doesn’t get sick,” Sirius points out. “Well, not for long, anyhow.”
“Do we watch that shitty soap opera because you love it, even though we hate it?” Peter asks.
“Remus doesn’t hate—” He cuts himself off when he notices the looks on the others’ faces. Even he has to admit that Remus Lupin is not the sort of bloke to watch soap operas and enjoy them. It is full of adequate acting and (sometimes unnecessary) drama. “Alright, alright. I get your point.” He pauses to think about this new chain of evidence and says, “So, what – you’re all saying that Remus... That everything he does is...”
“I’ll put it this way, mate,” Peter says, “Me and James used to leave you two alone on purpose in hopes you’d just kiss and get it over with.”
Before Sirius can say anything in response, they all hear a loud, “Hello?!” And then Remus is there, coming out of the house.
“Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find the right... What’s going on? Why’s everyone staring at me?” he asks, pausing in the doorway. “Were you talking about me?”
“No,” everyone answers all at once, except for Sirius who says, “Yes.”
Remus stares at them for three seconds before he nods and says, “Alright then. I got the sauce, is the food nearly ready?”
“Yes!” Marlene says.
And that’s it for that conversation. No one brings it up again or tries to get him to talk or tips Remus off about what’s been going on. Sirius, however, cannot stop ruminating, and he watches Remus closely throughout lunch to come to these conclusions:
First: Despite them living together and spending more time together than anyone else, Remus’s attention is on Sirius for at least 70% of the afternoon.
Second: Whether on purpose or not, Remus is often in contact with him. As a rule, Sirius is a very physical person, Remus is... less so. Sirius has always been free with his touch, but Remus has a personal bubble that very few are allowed to breach. Sirius feels very fortunate to be one of those few people. Throughout the afternoon, Sirius notices that they are more often than not touching each other – arms pressed together, knees knocking under the table, a hand on Sirius’s shoulder during a fit of laughter. Remus even initiates half of this contact, which makes Sirius very happy.
Third: Remus does things for Sirius that he does not do for others. He fills and refills Sirius’s drink whenever it is low, he passes Sirius’s favourite foods over without being asked, he actively listens and focuses on Sirius whenever he is talking.
Remus doesn’t ignore their other friends or shy away from their touches by any means, but he is not as upfront with them as he is with Sirius. And when Sirius thinks back, when he wonders why it took him so long to realise this, he understands that it’s because Remus has always been this way with him.
For just under a decade, Remus has been going out of his way to make Sirius’s life easier. Perhaps, at some point in the beginning, it had been a case of self-preservation. It had been a way to make his own life simpler but somewhere along the way, it stopped being about limiting the annoyances and more about making Sirius’s life better. Remus didn’t have to do certain things, and yet he did. For Sirius.
Sirius has never thought to question Remus’s behaviour or wonder if his feelings are reciprocated, he has never thought Remus’s actions to be odd or specific to him because he has never known any different.
But it’s a fact, isn’t it?
Remus isn’t like this with anyone else. Not to the extent he is with Sirius, at least. He doesn’t comfort James the way he does Sirius. He doesn’t laugh with Peter the way he does with Sirius. He doesn’t go the extra mile to help his other friends like he does for Sirius. Sirius is different to Remus in some way, and he can only hope that it’s the same way he finds Remus to be different.
It is definitely something to think more about.
August 2009
Sirius sits on his thoughts for a month.
Over that time, he observes and analyses and watches for all of the little things.
He sees the sweet little gestures masquerading as self-interested actions, like when Sirius said that he fancied chicken nuggets one night and Remus went to the Chicken Shop down the street to get him some, or when Sirius was having a bad day, so Remus sat and watched The Princess Bride on repeat all Saturday without complaint, or when Sirius decided to paint the entire downstairs by hand, so Remus gave up his only day off all week to help.
He sees it all and he thinks on it until he finally decides that maybe he should say something because he’s pretty sure (like 99% sure) that Remus might, perhaps, maybe, possibly... love him back. And, well, he isn’t one to let an opportunity to make his life better pass.
And so, one Saturday in mid-August, whilst they’re watching television and eating Chinese food, he decides to bring it up.
“Moony...”
“Mmph?” Remus replies through a mouthful of Chow Mein.
“Why are you so nice to me?” he asks.
Remus pauses and stares at him for a long moment before he chews and swallows the rest of his food. He clears his throat and then mutters, “What?”
“You’re so nice to me. Why?” Sirius wonders. “You hate everyone. I mean, you’re amiable enough, but you don’t go out of your way for other people like you do for me.”
Remus frowns and puts his plate on the coffee table. “What are you talking about?”
“You always do nice things for me,” Sirius explains. “Like, you take care of me when I’m unwell, and you learn things for me even though you don’t have to, and you feed me and make sure I’m healthy, and – and you don’t have to do that. So, what is it? Do you think I’m weak or something? Do you think that I need protecting more than the others?”
Remus sighs, “I don’t think you’re weak, Padfoot. You are the strongest person I know.”
“Then what is it?” he asks.
“I just...” Remus shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m just like this.”
“But you’re not,” Sirius points out. “Not with the others. And don’t say it’s for your benefit because a lot of the stuff you do for me does not benefit you.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Padfoot,” Remus replies. “It’s just the way I am with you. I want you to be happy, so I do what I can to make things easier for you. I might put a bit more effort into our friendship but that’s because I... I don’t know. Maybe it’s a pack thing, maybe it’s just us.”
Sirius stares at his friend, at the look in Remus’s beautiful hazel eyes, and he feels his heart thump fast in his chest. It’s true. He hadn’t actually thought it possible but looking at Remus, he can’t deny it. Remus loves him. A feeling flows through him and he realises sharply that it is joy – pure, unmitigated happiness.
“Moony, can I try something?” he asks.
Remus’s expression flickers uncertainly but he nods and says, “Sure.”
Sirius puts his own plate on the coffee table next to Remus’s and shuffles closer to the other man on the sofa. He pulls his leg up so that he is facing Remus straight-on, and then he very carefully and very slowly lifts his hands to rest on Remus’s shoulders.
“What are you...?”
“I’m going to kiss you,” Sirius answers. “Is that okay?”
Only when Remus nods does Sirius close the gap between them. It is a chaste first kiss – simple and soft and ultimately lovely because it is Remus and everything Remus does is lovely. When Sirius pulls back, he opens his eyes to look at the other man. Remus opens his eyes and watches him carefully.
“Merlin, it’s true, isn’t it?” Sirius asks quietly. “They were right. You are in love with me.”
Remus seems to freeze at that. “What? That’s... Who’s ‘they’?”
Sirius chuckles and answers, “Everyone. Just... everyone. You are, aren’t you?”
“I don’t...” Remus pulls back, putting some space between them. “I don’t know. It’s complicated. Would it matter if I were? Things don’t have to change—”
“Moony, this isn’t a bad thing,” Sirius cuts in. “Does it look like I’m upset?”
Remus looks at him for a long moment before he shakes his head slowly and says, “No.”
“Good. Because I’m not,” he replies, his hands twisting in his lap now. He takes a second to think about his next words and eventually says, “If you don’t want more than friendship, I understand. But I think you ought to know that it’s not just you.”
Remus frowns, clearly uncertain. “What do you mean?”
Sirius pulls up all of his Gryffindor courage and states, “I love you.”
“You do?”
Sirius nods in response.
Remus’s carefully blank expression breaks as a soft smile climbs onto his face. “You do,” he says, and this time it’s a statement.
“Of course I do, how could I not?”
Remus releases a soft chuckle and says, “I, um. I love you too.”
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Remus Lupin dislikes most people, that he will go out of his way to remove irritations from his life, but Sirius Black is not one of them.