Chapter 6
Despite living on the same grounds, Barty was a rare sight that week. Ever since the close call the week prior, Remus had spent two days in the Hospital Wing getting interrogated and treated for the injury, and the following days caught up between classes. Even during mealtimes, Remus hadn’t caught a glimpse of the other, except maybe for the back of his head as they went in different directions.
They were a week away from Christmas break before Barty showed himself, or to be exact, appeared in his vicinity. Remus had been on his way to DADA classes with the group of Marauders - he still wasn’t spending time alone with Sirius out of habit - when Barty walked by with his friends. Startled, and a little shy for some unknown reason, Remus had pretended not to notice him until they were a short five feet apart.
Barty glanced down at his palm, where the bandages had since been removed and what remained was a darkened red splotch where the blisters had been, before looking back up at Remus with an inquisitive raise of his brow, “how’s the hand?”, it seemed like he was asking. Remus nodded, before casting his eyes down towards Barty’s wrist. He hadn’t been to the infirmary since that day, Remus would have seen him if he did, and the damage showed.
The knuckles on his wrist were darkened with the hardened scabs where he had been bleeding, and Remus realised that he hadn’t even bothered to heal it with magic. He’d just left it to scab over. His gaze flitted back up to Barty’s, brows furrowed in concern, though he was only met with a subtle shake of his head and a minute smile that Remus only recognised by the crinkle of his eye.
He raised his fist into the air, twisting his wrist and clenching his fingers as if he was stretching, and Remus gave a subtle nod back at him in acknowledgement. Just like that, they passed each other wordlessly, and Remus had to fight the urge to take a second glance back. He’d been feeling weird as of late, though, he wasn’t really keen on finding out why. Denial, denial, denial — “denying the truth does change the fact,” as the muggles once said.
If he thought their exchange had been subtle, Remus was sorely wrong. Not a minute later had they passed each other before James was on him. Ordinarily - in other words, before The Prank that led to their falling out - Sirius would have been the one to perform the inquiries, but now that they weren’t exactly on friendly terms, James had taken over.
Remus had simply shrugged it off claiming he didn’t know what James was talking about, and when all James could point out between their exchange was ‘the staring’, Remus had jumped at the chance to clarify that they were glaring at each other, not staring. That seemed to satisfy James, though, he could feel another pair of eyes trained on him. Ones who were less likely to fall for such a bold-faced lie. If it was the Remus from a few months ago, he’d delight at the attention. Thank God for him that that Remus was gone. It was only later, in the comforts of his own dorm room, when the interrogations began again.
“What’s up with you and Crouch?”
The sudden voice had startled him into flinching, and Remus looked diagonally across from his bed to see that it was Sirius who was speaking to him. He glanced around the room, certain that they hadn’t been alone the last he was paying attention, and spotted the closed bathroom door. Ah, he hadn’t noticed that Peter had left them to go on his minimally twenty minute adventure.
“Nothing,” it was with intention that his reply came out terse.
Aside from the snide comments thrown at him from time to time, Sirius hadn’t spoken to him. Fine, Remus could forget the fact that knowing your mate had a crush on you probably wasn’t the best feeling in the world, but to throw in the sarcasm? That was uncalled for, and Remus didn’t quite care for it.
Sirius straightened himself up, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. “Come off it, Lupin,” he spat, and Remus laughed at the use of his last name. That seemed to infuriate Sirius further. “Are you two shagging?”
“What?!”
If Remus hadn’t been agitated before, he was now. Angry, even. It was incredulous, what Sirius was accusing him of, and even so, even if he had been shagging Barty, what was it to him? Who was he to ask about it, after giving him the cold shoulder for weeks on end? Incredulous, that was what Sirius Black was, and Remus was once again let known of that fact.
“So you are,” he quirked his brow, his otherwise pale face blackened in anger? Remus honestly couldn’t tell what it was he was feeling, except that it was probably unjustified and ridiculous. “You’re fraternising with the enemy.”
Remus got to his feet then, a laugh falling from his lips. “Sirius,” he walked over to his bed, four long strides were all it took. “What the fuck are you yammering on about?”
There was a click of the door from behind him and Peter stepped out from the bathroom, and though Remus was only privy to the fact because of the stench that immediately encompassed the room, his anger at Sirius took precedence. He ignored the other, his eyes still trained on Sirius, as the other, too, stood up from his bed.
“First, it was my brother, now Crouch, what are you trying to do? Slither around with the lot of them? You’re too good for us now, Lupin?”
A breath had to be taken, he had to take a breather, or it’d be his fist getting injured this time around. Sirius; this wasn’t the Sirius he first befriended back in First Year. This Sirius before him, it was a Sirius he didn’t even recognise, much less know. When did that happen? When did his friend Sirius turn into a stranger?
“You know what,” he raised his hands in surrender, backing away from Sirius as he trudged backwards towards the door. “Think what you will, Black, I’m done appeasing you at every little inconvenience, I’m done with trying to stay on your good side, I’m just done with you.”
“Yeah? So you’ve gotten over your crush on me, is that it?”
Remus’ hand stilled on the door knob, the metal cold against his skin. His heart wasn’t pounding against his chest, his mind was inexplicably clear, and for the first time in a long while, Remus felt at peace. “You know what, Black?” He turned around, catching his eye with a sad smile on his face. “You made it real easy to get over you.” With that, he left the room without a second glance back.
Just as he always did, he levitated himself up onto his spot on the beams, with a spell that he’d invent back in Third Year that was strong enough to lift a human. He laid down fully across the beam, his ankle propped up above the other, with a hand cushioning the back of his head from the wooden surface. With his free hand, he drew a circle with his wand, and the small portion of the ceiling turned transparent as he gazed up at the stars. He didn’t look for the Canis Major that day.
Soft thuds began to sound out from the stairwell, and as it drew closer, as it did heavier — Barty, Remus realised, his ears now able to pick up the gait in which he walked. He turned his head to the side to allow him a partial view of the room from his peripheral, and sure enough, Barty was storming in just like he did the previous time.
He was visibly upset, no different from before, and Remus watched as he made his way across the room. His destination was clear, the arched open window that stood at the other end of the room, and before he could crack his knuckles with a punch again, Remus made his presence known. He howled into the silent night, tilting his head back to allow his voice to travel out smoother, before turning back to look down at Barty, who was stood frozen in place in surprise.
As the initial surprise wore through, Barty chanced a slow glance towards the ceiling, and Remus casted a dim lumos on himself. “Hi,” he grinned, eyes closed as the light shone directly in his eyes.
“Bloody hell, Lupin,” he extinguished the light at the sound of Barty’s response, peering down at him from where he still laid with a chuckle. “Do you live up there or something?” He asked, looking up into the general direction of where Remus was sat.
Remus laughed at that, and without a response, he brought himself back down to the ground. He landed gracefully before Barty, the grin on his face widening at the sight of the other’s exasperation. He could never tire of that look, it was rarer and worth more than gold. “What’s got your panties in a twist today?” He asked casually, his smile falling as he caught the way Barty’s brows furrowed at his question. Did he say something wrong?
Barty took a breath, closing his eyes as he did so, before forcing them open with a glare directed at Remus. “Don’t,” he raised a finger between them, shaking his head slightly, “Don’t use that word.” He said, and Remus tilted his head in confusion. He hadn’t said anything bordering on rude since Barty came in, hell, he hadn’t even said anything besides a greeting and—
Oh?
“Panties?” He asked, the ghost of a smile dancing against his lips as he feigned innocence. The look on Barty’s face — priceless. A groan left Barty’s lips almost immediately, and that was enough to send Remus over the edge.
“Lupin, I’m warning you,” He said, and honestly? Far be it from Remus to care.
After all the years of mutual tormenting, after all those weeks of trying to infuriate him, and all he had to do was say the word ‘panties’? It was hilarious, and Remus couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled from his lips. If only he’d known, he’d said it sooner to anger the other—, and that was when he recalled their meeting by the hallways not that many months ago.
The last time he had asked the same question to Barty, he’d been punched in the face. He’d been confused then, on why he was punched, chalking it up to just a Barty thing, but now… “Fuck, Barty,” he gripped the other by his arm, “was that why you punched me the other time? Just because I said panties?”
Barty stilled in the moment, eyes opened wide in surprise at his words, and Remus didn’t miss the way he swallowed before he spoke. “If you say that word again, I swear to God, Re—, Wolfie, I will do it again!” His cheeks were burning red, something that Remus had yet to see before, and it was filling him with satisfaction, watching the other fluster.
He burst out into laughter again, pushing Barty’s hand away when the other held the wand up to his face. “Tell me why and I’ll stop,” he bargained, though he didn’t mean a single word he had said.
“No.”
Remus rose a brow at him, and with a smirk on his face, he enunciated the very word that he now knew Barty had a vendetta against. “Pan—, Ties,” Remus spat the words, just as a string of pink narrowly shot past him. He stuck his tongue out at Barty, who didn’t take too kindly to his version of a verbal assault, and the exchange of jinxes began.
Colours flew through the room, Remus alternating between the jinxes he knew in a random order, while Barty consistently shot the same jinx at him. They’d been running and jumping around the room for a good five minutes, before Barty’s jinx finally landed, and Remus halted abruptly in place. He now knew why Barty had been using the same jinx over and over again. That little bastard.
“Bloody hell Crouch, get this fucking thing off of me!” Remus shouted, his hand grasping against his robes as if it would change the fact that Barty had transfigured his briefs into a pair of panties, inherent in the fact that it was riding up his arse crack.
Barty was bent over in laughter at the fact, his face buried in his hands where he knelt face down against the floor from the sheer effort of laughing. “What? Cat got your tongue? Can’t say the word anymore?” He asked, between breaths, before doubling back down into a series of tearful laughs. He let his guard down, and for that, Remus made him pay.
Though it was hardly the same spell, Remus pointed his own wand at a laughing Barty, and when Barty shot upright onto his feet with his pupils blown wide, Remus just knew that he was successful. “How’s the g-string, Barty?” He winked at him, before taking off towards the opposite direction as Barty chased after him.
The panties war did eventually come to an amicable stalemate later into the night, after they had come to the shared agreement to strew the room with panties as a Christmas break gift to the school, and Filch, to be specific. They conjured up panties of varying colours, Remus opting for the deep hues, while Barty went for the pastels. They hung the article of clothings up like ornaments on a Christmas tree, and only when the hourly chime of the clock rung out, did they make their way back.
It must have been the first time since their unexpected meetings at the Astronomy Tower that they walked down the stairwell together, and Remus couldn’t help the brush of nervousness that came over him as they did. They were taking turns guessing Filch’s reaction to his discovery of their present, and Barty lamented the fact that he wouldn’t be able to stay on campus over the Christmas break. He’d have to go home, he said with a frown that Remus didn’t miss, though he never did question it either.
They stopped in sync at the hallways that diverted into two - one to the Gryffindor Towers, and the other to the Slytherin Dungeons - and Remus shoved his hands into the pockets of his robe, where he could fiddle with his fingers in peace. “Right,” he said, turning over to face Barty who was already looking at him. “I’m that way.” He tilted his head towards his dorm, and then inwardly chiding himself for doing so because hell, Barty definitely knew that.
As expected, Barty wasted no time in teasing him. “Oh is that so, Wolfie? Are you that way?” He cooed, lips turning up into a smile as Remus’ face heated up in embarrassment. Before Remus could retort, Barty took a step towards him, and Remus promptly clamped his mouth shut. “Right,” his eyes searched Remus’, and Remus held his lower lip between his teeth in anticipation. “I’m that way,” he repeated his words, tilting his head towards the Slytherin Dungeons as did Remus.
Remus nodded, hazel brown eyes lost in his pools of chocolate, and the heart hammering spell was back in place. Except, this time, Remus couldn’t possibly convince himself as much — he had, it seemed, taken a liking towards Barty. Well, damn.
He could feel Barty’s breath on his lips, the erratic exhales that followed no rhythm of time, and he struggled to take a breath. The taste of iron dabbled against his tongue, and Remus realised that some time amidst the staring, he must have split his lips. God, he wished it was Barty’s lips between his teeth instead.
With his thoughts, his eyes fell upon Barty’s parted lips, pink and pillowy even in the dimness of the night. To feel them pressed against him, to take them between his; Remus shuddered at the thought before casting his gaze back at Barty’s eyes who were momentarily distracted before finding his own.
“Merry Christmas, Wolfie,” Barty whispered, breaking the drawled silence between them. “Stay pretty,” he swiped his thumb over Remus’s broken lower lip before pressing it against his own, tongue darting out to swipe against the pad of his finger as he backed away down the hallway leading to his dungeons.