Love, Probably.

Sirius was done with work until the New Year, not that being Prime Minister really had much downtime. He was so ready to just get back to his apartment, blast some music, and let the stress of the last month go—or at least some of it.

He scrolled through Spotify before deciding on Chappel Roan’s album. He cooked himself some dinner. Well, he reheated some frozen pasta sauce and boiled some pasta. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, sniffed it, and then poured it down the sink. He had a lovely bottle of Talisker single malt that he’d been enjoying occasionally, but since the incident with Greyback and Remus, the smell of whiskey made him feel nauseous.

He braced his arms against the sink. Before he could think about it too much, he was moving his hips in time with the intro to Hot to Go. When the vocals came in, he spun around and suddenly he was in his own music video. He picked up a bottle of balsamic vinegar, now his microphone, and sang to his reflection in the fridge.

He danced across the living room as the chorus kicked in, spinning and making the letters with his arms. He jumped on the sofa, pretending to be performing to a sea of adoring fans on the floor.

He pointed at various imaginary fans as he sang along. At James and Harry, at Lily, at Reg, at Remus, and then as he turned to jump off the sofa, he saw Rubeus standing in the doorway, looking anywhere but at Sirius.

“Alexa, pause.” Sirius choked out, his face turning a darker red than his tie as he stepped down from the sofa gingerly. “Ah, Rubeus, I didn’t hear you come in… can I help you with something?”

“I did knock, Sir. Several times. Amelia asked me to give these to you, sir.” He handed Sirius a bundle of Christmas cards with a post-it note on the top that simply said ‘Give these a read, a random sample. Merry Christmas - A’.

“Right, yes… well, thank you, I suppose. I shall…” He waved the cards, “I’ll get to that, then.”

Rubeus looked like he was desperately trying to fight back a smile. “Alright then. Good night, sir.”

“Goodnight, Rubeus.” Sirius nodded as Rubeus left the room, then let himself fall onto the sofa and groaned into a cushion.

After half an hour of self-loathing, he sat up and picked up the cards, pasta and whiskey completely forgotten. He opened the top one. It was from the MP for Tamworth, full of the usual platitudes. He rolled his eyes and set it to one side. The next one was from Pomona, which was actually very sweet. He set it open on the coffee table.

He recognised the writing on the third one. The same writing that had written ‘hiraeth’ on his password piece of paper that he looked at frequently, and not just because he kept forgetting his password. He hesitated before opening it. He could just pretend he never got it. His hands acted of their own accord and it was open before he could think about it anymore, and he pulled out the card gently. On the front was a vintage photo of biscuits with the caption ‘The only thing better than a biscuit is two biscuits’. Sirius laughed and felt a lump rise in his throat. He took a deep breath before opening the card.

Dear sir, Dear Sirius,
I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year.
I’m so sorry about the thing that happened. It was a truly bizarre moment that I didn’t welcome and I’ve felt like an absolute idiot ever since. Mostly because - and if you can’t say it at Christmas, when can you? - I’m actually yours.
Love
Remus

PS: The chancellor doesn’t get biscuits

On the other side was a scribbly drawing of someone that Sirius assumed was supposed to be him based on the black scribbles surrounding what he assumed was the head. ‘From Teddy, he insisted.’ was written in Remus’ handwriting under it.

Sirius wiped away a tear that he hadn’t realised had fallen. Oh, shit. Had he misread the situation that he’d walked into? He really should have spoken to Remus about it. Not as the Prime Minister, but as someone who— No. He shouldn’t think like that.

He set the card down next to Pomona’s, then picked it up again and re-read it. I’m actually yours. He shook his head and stood up, still clutching it. He strode to the front door of his apartment where Rubeus was scrolling Facebook.

“I’m going to need a car, Rubeus.” He said breathlessly.

“You are?” He looked surprised. “Where are you going, sir?”

“Wandsworth. The dodgy bit. Harris Street.”

“Oh, that is dodgy. You sure, sir?” Rubeus asked, before picking up his phone. “I’ll have Frank come around, sir. He should be about five minutes.

“Thank you. Merry Christmas, Rubeus!” Sirius called back as he took the stairs two at a time.

🌙✨🎄✨🌙

As they approached Harris Street, Sirius realised when Frank asked that he didn’t know which number Remus lived at. He frowned.

“No idea, actually. Bad planning on my part, Frank. Well, no planning, really, I suppose.” He debated for a moment. “Just… park up. We’re going knocking on doors.”

“We?” Frank said but didn’t argue further.

Another thing Sirius hadn’t accounted for was the possibility that Remus might not be at home.

The first three doors he knocked at, he had no response.

The fourth was an old lady who scowled at him. “You’re that bloke…” She narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to place him. “Are you that friend of my Tom? The one who stole his missus?”

“Uh, no, definitely not the lady stealing friend of Tom I’m afraid. I’m sure he’s a lovely guy, though.” Sirius smiled, “I’m looking for Remus Lupin?”

“He don’t live here.” She shrugged.

“Right. Well, thank you for your time. Merry Christmas.” Sirius said, turning away.

The next few doors also held no joy. The eighth door was opened by a stunning woman with purple hair that framed her face in tight curls like a halo.

“Fucking hell.” She muttered as she saw Sirius standing there.

“Uh, hello. I’m looking for—“

“He lives next door.” She said, leaning on the doorframe and looking thoroughly unimpressed. Sirius noted the American accent and plastered a winning smile on his face, about to thank her. “Dunno if he’ll want to see you, though. He’s not a huge fan of yours lately.”

“Ah, so you’re a friend of his.” Sirius felt his face heat up. “Well, yes, that’s totally fair. I haven’t treated him well.”

“You’ll wanna be quick if you want to catch him, it’s Teddy’s Christmas show tonight and he’ll be leaving any minute.” She said, looking at him pointedly. “Go on then.”

“Oh, right. Thank you. Merry Christmas.”

“Hmmm.” She grumbled before closing the door.

Sirius stepped over the shrubs separating the two front doors and rang the doorbell, smiling as he heard the tinny rendition of Jingle Bells from inside. The door was opened by an older woman who studied Sirius’ face.

“Oh, bloody hell.” She said softly. Her accent was stronger than Remus’. “Remus, love. You have a visitor.”

“Who? We’re running late, and… where the fuck is my fucking coat?” Remus appeared at the top of the stairs, then froze as he noticed standing in the doorway.

“Uh, hi,” Sirius said as Remus stared at him.

“What are you doing here?” Remus descended the stairs slowly, “No, you know what, I don’t have time for this, Sirius. We’re already running late. Teddy!”

A very cute little boy dressed in the most ridiculous lobster costume Sirius could have imagined emerged from a doorway. “Time to go?”

“Time to go. Can you put your shoes on or do you need Mam-gu to help?” Remus said, looking through the pile of coats hanging on the end of the bannister.

Teddy tried to bend down to see if he could put his shoes on and almost overbalanced. The woman caught him and directed him to sit on the stairs and put his shoes on for him.

Sirius watched this domestic scene in silence until Remus looked at him. “Well?”

“I was hoping that I could... talk to you?” Sirius said.

“We have to be at the school in fifteen minutes. I don’t have time right now, Sirius.” He said, shrugging on a denim jacket that was certainly not adequate for the freezing temperatures that night, but Sirius wasn’t about to critique his choice in outerwear.

“You can get a lift with me. I just… I got your card.”

Remus chewed on his lower lip. “My mum, and Mary and…”

“You go with Sirius, love. I’ll drive Mary and we’ll meet you there.” Remus’ mum said with a small smile.

“Can I come with you? Do you have a fancy car?” Teddy asked Sirius.

Sirius looked at Remus, then shrugged. “Of course you can, Teddy. Thank you for your drawing, by the way. It was so good! I’m thinking about hanging it in my office with the official portraits of past prime ministers if it’s ok with you?”

Teddy glowed with pride and nodded as Remus snorted almost inaudibly. “Yeah, ok,” Teddy said. “You could frame it if you want.”

“That’s a fantastic idea.” Sirius smiled at him and Remus tried not to melt at the way Sirius was interacting with his son. It didn’t make up for everything. It didn’t begin to touch it, frankly.

“Alright. Ted, you ready cyw?” Remus asked. “You sure you’re ok driving mam?”

His mum nodded then turned to Sirius. “I’m Hope, by the way, since my son apparently has no manners.”

“Mam! I’m a bit distracted, sorry for not…”

“Sirius Black, Prime Minister,” Sirius said, holding out his hand.

“Yes, I know who you are,” Hope said with a laugh.

“The lady at number four asked if I was her son’s girlfriend-stealing friend. I’ve learned not to assume that people know who I am, this evening.” Hope laughed as Remus kissed her cheek and ushered Teddy towards the door. “Alright, lovely to meet you, Hope. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you, Prime Minister!” Hope said quietly as she watched the three of them walk down the street towards Sirius’ car.