Chapter 5
“You can’t be serious,” Remus said.
“It’s a good costume!” insisted Lily’s voice from the other side of the door, “Come on, just show us.”
Sighing, Remus slammed open the door to Lily’s bedroom, and scowled out at her and Marlene, “I am not wearing this. I look ridiculous.”
“You look hot,” Marlene replied, smirking from ear to ear and nodding with satisfaction. “I'm so proud.”
Remus cast her a dirty look, folding his arms across his chest, “I’m wearing ears.”
He was in fact, wearing a hat with stuffed ears poking out at the top; it was striped grey and black and knitted with thin wool. He was also wearing fluffy fingerless gloves, a grey vest, and dark baggy jeans that sat low on his hips– all picked out for him by Lily and Marlene.
“You're a wolf,” Lily said, reaching up on the tips of her toes to ruffle the woven ears of his hat, and she grinned when he smacked her hand away, “Wolves have ears.”
“I hate you,” he groaned, but he stepped aside to let them back into the room, before flopping down on the edge of Lily's mattress. Both girls were already dressed– Lily as an alien with green wobbly antenna stuck in her red hair, and Marlene as a witch, although it was more of a corset top, wickedly sharp red shoes.
Tugging a glittering pointy hat on over her blonde bangs, Marlene declared, her voice sing-song, “I'm so ready to get drunk.”
“It's bad enough you're dragging me along to this thing,” muttered Remus, tracing his finger along the purple paisley pattern of Lily’s duvet cover, “Sirius Black does not want me there. I can tell you that with absolute certainty. Why can't you two just go without me?”
“Wow, Re,” replied Lily, flatly, as she smudged eyeliner along her waterline, “You really are a ray of positivity and sunshine tonight.”
He relented with a begrudging smile, “Sorry. I'm tired.”
“Didn't sleep?” she asked.
“Not much.”
“I invited Benji Fenwick,” Marlene announced abruptly as she leaned forwards to squint into a mirror, applying a thick layer of pink gloss to her lips.
“What?” Remus turned to frown at her, “Why?”
Marlene straightened, beaming, “Because you need to have sex.”
A faint choked noise of indignation punched from Remus’ throat, “I do not!”
“When was the last time you even, like, kissed someone?” asked Marlene, pointing her lip gloss at him as if it were her magic wand.
“I'm not answering that.”
“That's how you know it's been too long.”
Lily rolled her green eyes, and patted Remus’ knee, which somehow did not make him feel better. She asked Marlene, “Are you allowed to just invite whoever you want?”
“Don't know,” Marlene shrugged, “Better to ask for forgiveness than permission though. Am I right?”
“No,” he muttered.
“You should thank me. Benji is attractive , ” pointed out Marlene, “Obviously not as hot as Sirius Black by any stretch of the imagination, but he's not bad looking.”
“Why–” Clearing his throat, Remus could feel his face start to burn, “Why the fuck is Sirius Black relevant to this conversation? At all?”
Marlene raised her eyebrows far too high, glancing towards Lily, “No reason.”
Remus twisted his head to look at Lily, who was suddenly very busy looking through the earrings on her jewelry stand. She plucked up a pair of silver ones shaped like stars and held them out towards Remus, “What do you think?”
“I think my friends are schemers,” said Remus under his breath.
Hilariously, it was Lily's mum that drove them all in her tiny Mini over to the Manor. Remus had to slouch to fit inside the car’s cramped compartment, and even then his head scraped the ceiling. The lanes around the back of the village were winding and bumpy and when she finally pulled into a layby a few lanes over from Grimmauld Manor, Remus nearly threw up into the hedgerow.
They could hear the thump of the music before they saw the party itself. The pulse of the beat jumped, and when they walked up the path to the back garden, coloured lights from the windows reflected blocks of reds and purples and blues across the lawn.
“I cut that lawn a few weeks ago,” Remus told Lily.
Lily linked her arm through his, “I was just about to say how lovely the lawn is.”
“Naturally.”
The front door was closed, but the doors to the conservatory were wide open. As the three of them stepped inside, a wave of cloying heat pressed against their skin. Remus was quick to shrug off his coat and leave it in a pile with the others on a chaise longue. Its wooden feet, were, in fact, carved like a snake’s rearing head.
“There's more people than I was expecting,” Lily observed as they walked through the conversatory and into the same living room that Remus had been in before, when he had accused Sirius of stealing the gnome. This time, the piano had been pushed up against the wall. Lily was right – there were around twenty strangers, sitting down talking on the sofa, or standing in groups drinking.
“You should go find Benji,” Marlene whispered, shoving an elbow into Remus’ side. He winced, hissing back–
“Stop meddling!”
As he stood there, Remus did find himself scanning the people, his focus darting between every dark head of hair, every pair of eyes. It was oddly instinctual. It was also nothing to do with Benji Fenwick.
“Ahoy!” cried a voice, and James materialized to their left, dressed in all brown– brown corduroy trousers and a brown shirt. He also held a pitcher of something purple and packed with ice. Grinning, he looked at Remus first, “Wow. You clean up nice, Remus.”
“What are you?” Lily ran her eyes over him, “A deer?”
Blinking, James gestured at his head– tacked to the headband he wore were two twisting branches, “A stag!”
Failing to suppress her cynicism, Marlene looked him up and down, “Really?”
“How are there so many people here?” Lily asked James.
“Ah,” James shrugged, grimacing, “I may have gotten very drunk at a pub in the village last night and invited everyone. And then everyone brought their friends.”
“ And I made posters,” replied a voice, and Peter popped out from behind James. He had drawn a nose and whiskers on his face with black sharpie, but other than that looked the same as usual, “I put them on lamp-posts.”
James nodded sagely, “Exactly. It was probably the posters.”
Chewing his lip, Remus glanced around again at the people in the living room. There were a few people he did recognize, either as customers, or, to his unease, from school. That was fine– he was used to avoiding people.
“If you're looking for Sirius, he's upstairs,” James said, “On the first floor balcony.”
“I wasn't looking for him,” Remus replied, quickly.
“Alright,” he shrugged, “Want a drink?”
“Sure.”
“And you?” James swung towards Lily, brandishing the purple drink pitcher, and a wide smile. “You should try some of my signature drink.”
“Should I?” Lily said, peering down at the jug, “Um. It's glittery.”
“Don't worry, the glitter is edible.”
“And yummy,” Peter added, taking a sip of his own sparkly drink with a straw.
“Well in that case,” smirked Lily, but she held out her cup, “Go on then.”
With a great deal of concentration, James poured out the drink until it nearly sloshed over the brim. Then, he turned towards Marlene, and stretched out the pitcher by way of greeting, “Hello, I don't think we've met. I'm James.”
“Friend of Sirius?” guessed Marlene.
“That's right. We went to primary and secondary together.”
“I'm Marlene,” she replied, “Happy Halloween. Do you have anything a bit stronger? Like vodka?”
“In the kitchen.”
Marlene announced, “I'll be in the kitchen,” and then set off through the living room, weaving her way through the lingering people.
“You look good,” James said to Lily, in a firm and decided tone, and Remus believed he was perhaps struggling to restrain himself from blurting out more compliments, “I like your antenna.”
“Thank you,” Lily replied.
“The green matches your eyes.”
“Thanks.”
“And your hair. It's so… red. ”
“James,” said Peter, chuckling awkwardly, placing a hand on his shoulder, and James clamped his mouth shut, “Ha. Ha. Should we give them a tour of the house?”
“Ooh. A tour,” Lily put her hands on her hips and tipped her head back to look at the ceiling, “Hey, when was this house built? My guess would be the early 19th century.”
“Because of the Georgian symmetry?” James asked, and Lily snapped her chin back down to stare at him with a rounded mouth.
“Yes!”
“I don't want a tour,” Remus interrupted, with a short smile, “Where’s the bathroom? I'll join you in a bit.”
“There's one on this floor in the hallway or just up the first floor stairs. Take your pick.”
Remus took his pick of the first floor; as he crossed into the hallway and climbed the stairs, it was already quieter. He found himself on the landing when he caught a glimpse of two open doors and a sliver of blue night sky. He walked towards it, shivering at the freezing gust of wind that blew in from outside.
It was a balcony carved with stone pillars and a iron facade, and leaning up against the far side was a winged silhouette. The wings were curved up behind their back, feathered and black, but Remus knew the curling hair and sharp angles of Sirius' face.
Remus stood there in the doorway for a moment without speaking. He watched as Sirius tipped his head back, and white smoke coiled from his mouth.
“You smoke?” Remus said.
Sirius twisted around to look at him, and Remus stepped out from the shadows. It was only then that he saw the small red horns that were poking out from Sirius’ black hair. His fine cheekbones were like daggers in this light, his eyes like crystal. He looked like a drawing from an old book of fables. Something terribly, dangerously beautiful. A mirage designed to trick you into staying in fairyland forever.
“When I'm drinking.” he replied, and his eyes dragged slowly down the length of Remus’ body, before he continued, “So. You're here.”
“Obviously.”
“I thought you wouldn't come.”
“You mean you hoped.”
“Sure.” Sirius picked up the paper cup balanced on the windowsill, half-full with a dark liquid, and took a sip.
From downstairs, the song Monster Mash had began to play. Remus said, quietly, “It's a good party.”
“That’s the rumour,” Sirius drummed his fingers against the railing, blowing smoke into the air, and the smell wrapped around Remus.
“Can I have one?” he asked, after a beat.
“A cigarette?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright,” Sirius said, and he pulled out a cigarette from his back pocket, before handing it over to him. Placing it in between his lips, Remus tilted his head towards Sirius.
“Light?”
Sirius leaned forwards, and touched the tip of his cigarette to Remus’, the orange glow brightening for a moment. Through the smoke that billowed up around them, they locked eyes, and a soft shiver trickled down Remus’ spine. For some reason, he didn't think it was just from the cold.
“This suits you,” Sirius said as he rested back again, nodding down at what he was wearing, “It’s perfect, actually. Feral– brooding–”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
“Bad-tempered…”
Drawing in a breath of smoke, Remus narrowed his eyes, “Yeah? And what are you supposed to be?”
“I'm the devil,” Sirius replied.
The rush of the nicotine surged up through his chest, the buzz of it soft in his head. Mouth curling, Remus’ ran his gaze over him, and, unbidden, his hand reached out to stroke a finger down the edge of Sirius’ wings, the feathers soft against his skin. As if it had been part of his body, Sirius shivered.
Remus said, “I don't see much of a difference.”
“I bet you don’t,” murmured Sirius, and as his face caught the light again, Remus saw the smudge of red eyeliner beneath his long lashes, “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?”
“Is today your birthday?”
“It's the third.”
“Then, no. I’m not.”
Sirius raised a brow, “How about a Happy Halloween?”
Remus’ mouth twitched, “Happy Halloween, Black.”
He did not reply, but instead continued to look at Remus in a way that made Remus’ stomach twist. He was still watching as Remus took a step back, put out the cigarette with his heel and walked back inside.
Once he was downstairs again, he found Lily and Marlene in the kitchen. It was a room with high ceilings, marble countertops, and wide windows that looked out over the lawn, but at the moment, it was a mess of vodka bottles, and discarded cups.
“Remus!” Marlene cried out as soon as she saw him, and she grabbed hold of his arm to yank him closer, “There you are!”
“Hello,” he smiled, “You're drunk.”
“No, you're drunk,” she said, jabbing her finger into his chest.
“I haven't had anything to drink yet.”
“Oh my God,” Marlene’s eyes widened and she pushed a cup sloshing with liquid into his hand. He took a sip, grimacing as the vodka burned the back of his throat. The taste reminded him of being eighteen and stupid.
“Did you have a good house tour?” Remus asked Lily.
Lily shrugged, “It was okay. That James guy was kind of weird. He kept calling the kitchen, the eating room.”
Remus stifled a laugh, “I think you make him nervous.”
“Why on Earth would I make him nervous? I barely know him.”
“He probably wants to know you better,” Remus replied, with a little more emphasis this time, raising his eyebrow, “You know?”
She squinted at him, “I do not know.”
Marlene turned towards Lily, and cupped her face between her hands, “He likes you,” she told her with a degree of mischievous relish, “He wants to have your babies .”
Lily, her cheeks squished together, was muffled as she asked, “How much have you had to drink?”
As the night grew later, the three of them mostly stood together talking, with Marlene occasionally flitting off when she spotted anyone she thought might be interesting.
Remus caught a glimpse or two of James and Peter, most notably when the two boys began a power struggle over the aux cord; James insisting on playing Boney M’s Rasputin, and Peter insisting that Rasputin had nothing to do with Halloween and therefore could not be permitted.
“It's about murder, ” said James, waving the phone around above Peter’s head, “That is so Halloweeny!”
“We're playing Thriller! ” Peter hissed back at him.
He found himself searching for Sirius, but he didn't ever see him properly; Remus could have sworn he was leaving any room that Remus drifted into, although that wouldn't have been a surprise.
It was nearly one in the morning, and he, Lily, James, and Peter were sitting on a sofa in the living room, their feet up on one of the low coffee tables. Marlene was at their feet, quite possibly asleep with her head resting against Lily’s leg.
“Where's our host been all evening?” Lily asked.
“Sirius isn't feeling very social tonight,” James said, and Remus was sure that his eyes had flickered over towards him as he spoke. Sinking down lower against the cushions, Remus sighed and frowned up at the ceiling instead.
“Well he'll have to feel social soon,” Peter interjected, “He still needs to blow out the candles on his cake.”
Lily yawned, “It's Halloween. Why does he get a cake?”
“It's his birthday on the third,” Remus muttered. There was a strange tightness in his chest, a whirring of his heart. He suddenly just wanted to go home.
“I baked that cake,” continued Peter, his words slurring together, “He better blow out the bloody candles.”
James sling an arm around his shoulder, “I'm sure he will, Pete.”
“I need to get some air,” Remus told Lily, quietly, “Will you be okay here?”
She glanced over at him, her brow knitting, and she set down her cup, “Want me to come with you?”
“No, don't worry,” he shook his head, “I'll be back in like five.”
Remus wandered out into the hallway, rolling his shoulders back as he let his gaze wander over the details of the green flowered wallpaper, the elaborate vases, the high ceilings. It was a whole different world.
There was a large wooden door to his left. When he pushed at its face, experimentally, it swung open. Through the sliver, he saw something that made him slip inside – books.
It was a library. A beautiful library, with long windows and mahogany wood, and shelves and shelves of books, stacks on stacks. A few sofas and armchairs faced a dark fireplace at the far side of the room, but Remus was immediately drawn to the volumes nearest to him.
A row of Agatha Christie, all first edition, from Poirot to Miss Marple. Despite the slight thrum of the alcohol in his veins, he didn't dare touch them, only let his fingers drift right above their embossed spines.
“Remus Lupin,” said a voice, and Remus raised his head to see Benji Fenwick standing by the door. He hadn't heard him come in. Benji smiled, “I wondered where you were hiding.”
“I'm not hiding,” Remus replied, with a quick smile, “Just looking for somewhere quiet.”
“Does that mean I shouldn't join you?” Benji asked, wandering closer. He had shut the door behind him, “Because I really want to.”
“It's a free country. Kind of,” murmured Remus, and he cast an eye over what Benji was wearing; a straw hat, checked shirt, and denim overalls, “What are you?”
“A scarecrow.”
“Wow. Bit on the nose, isn't it?”
“I haven't got a very good imagination,” He said, and then his mouth split into a grin, “For some things.”
Remus tilted his head, “Are you coming onto me, Benji?”
“Isn't it obvious?”
“I guess,” said Remus, “You know, I don't remember you being that interested in me at school.”
There was a touch at his waist– Benji’s hand, which then crept down to his hip. Remus shifted on the spot, glancing towards the closed door.
Benji said, “We ran in different circles at school.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, come on,” Benji said, smirking, even as his fingers slipped lower, working their way under Remus’ shirt to his bare skin, “My friends would have taken the piss out of me.”
Remus blinked, “What?”
There was a thud, and the door to the library slammed open, a beam of light falling across the carpet. Stood illuminated was Sirius, bracing a palm against the doorjamb, his other wrapped around a cup. He wasn't wearing his wings anymore. He was still for a moment, staring at where Benji’s hand was touching Remus’ hip.
“You're not supposed to be in here,” He said, finally, “There's a sign on the door.”
“Sorry, mate,” Benji grinned, and he pulled away from Remus.
Sirius’ gaze, which was already saturated with venom, slid over to Benji, and stayed there, “Who are you?”
“Benji Fenwick,” He replied, sticking out his hand, which Sirius looked at, but ignored, “You must be our host.”
“And who invited you?” Sirius asked him.
Remus gritted his teeth, “Don't be a dick.”
Benji glanced at Remus, and then back at Sirius incredulously, his lip curling, “Uh. Marlene McKinnon.”
“Right. Well,” Sirius raised his eyebrows, “Would you mind getting the fuck out of this room now?”
“Sure, okay,” Benji said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, but he still grinned as he turned back to Remus, “You coming Remus?”
“He’ll be one minute,” Sirius replied before Remus could even open his mouth, his eyes fixed to Remus like a magnet. Lifting a shoulder, Benji only laughed, before heading back out into the living room. The door swing shut behind him with a bang.
Remus stood there for a few seconds in silence, and then asked, “Can I help you?”
Sirius took a step closer, and asked, “Who was that?”
“He did tell you his name. In between you interrupting our conversation and then kicking him out like a fucking prick.”
“It's my house,” he shot back, “I can interrupt anyone I like.”
“It's your parent's house,” Remus snapped, and Sirius’ cheeks flooded pink. He looked about ready to throw the rest of his drink in Remus’ face.
“You're in a shit fucking mood,” He said, “You upset I interrupted your date?”
“No. I'm upset that I'm stuck in a room talking to you.”
“You’re wrong,” cut in Sirius.
“What?”
“You’re wrong. You’re not stuck in here with me,” he murmured, his eyes strong and shining, “You can leave anytime you want.”
Throat tightening, Remus blinked, “I– I know.”
“Maybe you just don’t want to.”
“I do,” replied Remus, faintly, eventually, now extremely aware of how near Sirius was, the heat of his body, the smell of him, of his sweet cologne, his shampoo.
“Mm.”
Even though they were in the middle of the room, Remus felt cornered, and it kept him talking, “What the hell is wrong with you? You've avoided me the whole night and now–”
“Avoided you?” Sirius repeated, his tone dangerous, “Avoiding suggests that I actually give a fucking thought to your whereabouts, which I do not–”
“Except when I'm alone with Benji Fenwick,” snapped Remus.
He pushed his tongue into his cheek, “That's… irrelevant.”
“It’s confusing," Remus corrected.
Shaking his head, Sirius lifted his cup to his lips, and Remus watched the swallow travel down his throat. When he pulled the glass away again, his mouth was set in a strange, dark smile.
He said, softly, “You’re no fun.”
“And you're drunk,” pointed out Remus, his gaze flickering down to the liquid shimmering from his cup, “As always.”
Sirius rolled his beautiful eyes, the movement almost lazy, as if he couldn’t be bothered to spare Remus the full action of it, “I'm not always drunk. Not anymore.”
“Are you kidding? You were in the bar drunk out of your mind for two weeks straight.”
“I was sad,” said Sirius, his voice quiet, but hard. He tilted his head and he walked closer.
“Why?”
“That's none of your business.”
Throwing his hands up in the air, Remus hissed, “Then don't fucking bring it up!”
“All I'm saying is that that's not me anymore.”
“You’re not sad anymore?”
“I didn't say that,” he said, “I'm just trying other ways to deal with it."
“Like what?” Remus asked, desperate to claw back some sort of upperhand, some scrap of dignity, before he lost all control of his legs. The nearer Sirius came, the faster his pulse fluttered. “Is it by any chance something idiotic and self-centred? Because that seems to be your thing.”
“Shut up, Remus,” Sirius said, and Remus stilled, looking at him, really looking at him, because Sirius had used his first name.
And his chest clenched, heart suddenly loud in his ears; Sirius wasn't smiling anymore, but he didn't say anything, only stared, his chest rising and falling, up, down, his jaw tight. Soft black curls were falling into his face, and the dim blue light fell over him, painting his faint freckles, catching on the metal of his piercings, the silver of the rings lining his fingers. The room was spinning around them, lights flaring, the dull beat of the music from the other room thundering through his bones.
Remus lowered his gaze, so that they were eye to eye, “I really get under your skin. Don't I?”
Turning his head, Sirius’ nose brushed against his cheek, his breath warm, coming fast. Still not speaking. Every fibre of Remus’ body was screaming, splintered between a warning siren and a desperate, thumping….. want. His eyes were drawn down to Sirius’ mouth, full and red and shining.
Someone cleared their throat. It took a moment before Remus even registered the sound, but then he was wrenching himself away. James stood in the doorway, his brown eyes round behind his glasses.
“Um,” James said, “Sirius. Peter is bringing out your cake now, so–”
“I'm coming,” Sirius replied, quickly, and he was looking away from Remus, swerving around him to stride towards the door. He pushed past James, who paused there for a second longer, studying Remus, before following after Sirius.
Groaning, Remus slammed his head back against one of the bookshelves, his nails digging into his palms. Fuck. He had to leave this party.