The Marauders’ dormitory was as silent as it ever got at night—except for the occasional muffled sound of the wind outside and the creak of a floorboard from a restless sleeper. It was late, and most of the room's inhabitants were fast asleep. Remus Lupin, however, was wide awake, lying under his covers with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
The moonlight poured through the gaps in the curtains, casting faint shadows across the room. The sounds of his friends’ steady breathing filled the air, each of them in their respective beds—James in the bed closest to the door, Sirius to the left, and Peter in the far corner. It was strange how they could share a room so comfortably, each with their own space, yet all so aware of each other’s presence.
But tonight, there was a restlessness that wouldn’t let Remus sleep. His heart was racing, and he felt the all-too-familiar tension in his chest as the remnants of his nightmare clung to his mind. The details were hazy, but the feelings lingered—panic, isolation, a sense of losing control. The kind of dream that felt far too real, far too close to the truth.
Remus turned onto his side, pulling his pillow tighter against his chest. His mind kept returning to that cold, unyielding place, the terror of the full moon creeping into his thoughts like a shadow. The fear of becoming that thing again—the thing he could barely control, the thing he hated.
He shook his head, trying to push it away, but it was no use. The nightmares had always been a part of him, a consequence of something he could never escape.
Minutes passed, but the feeling of dread wouldn’t leave. His breath grew quicker, his chest tighter, as if the nightmare was still clutching him.
Then, without warning, a sudden gasp left his lips—a sharp intake of breath, followed by a shuddering exhale. His body shot upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat, his hands trembling. His pulse raced like he was still trapped in the dream.
He sat there for a moment, just breathing, trying to steady himself, but it was no use. Remus could already feel the panic seeping in.
Across the room, the soft shuffle of sheets and a groggy voice cut through the tension. “Moony?” It was Sirius. The voice was low, concerned, the kind of voice that only came out when Sirius knew something wasn’t quite right.
Remus quickly wiped his face with the back of his hand, feeling the slickness of sweat still on his skin. “Sirius, it’s nothing. I’m fine,” he replied, his voice a little more strained than he intended.
Sirius wasn’t convinced. He was already pushing himself up from his bed, his bare feet making soft sounds against the cold stone floor. “Moony,” he repeated, now standing beside Remus’ bed. His eyes were half-lidded with sleep, his dark hair messy from a night’s rest. “You’re awake, and you’re breathing like you’ve run a marathon. Bad dream, yeah?”
Remus nodded, letting out a long, shaky breath. “Yeah. Just a nightmare. I’ll be fine.”
But Sirius could see right through him. He always could.
Without a word, Sirius moved closer, sitting on the edge of Remus’ bed, his legs dangling over the side. He didn’t ask if Remus was sure; he just reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Remus shook his head, feeling too exposed. “I— I don’t want to burden you.”
Sirius gave him a small, understanding smile. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But I’m staying here with you, whether you like it or not.” He gently nudged Remus, a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.
And Remus felt the walls he’d built around himself begin to crumble, just a little bit. He let out a slow, steadying breath, the warmth of Sirius’ presence calming him more than he expected.
For a few moments, there was only silence between them. The quiet was soothing, as if just being near Sirius was enough to steady his racing heart. But still, Remus felt the weight of the nightmare lingering on his shoulders.
Sirius, as if sensing his unease, didn’t say anything. He just stayed there, close enough that Remus could feel the heat radiating from his body.
Before he realized it, Remus had moved, turning so that his head was resting on Sirius’ shoulder. The contact felt safe, familiar, and in that moment, Remus didn’t want to fight it. He allowed himself to just be there, to lean into the comfort of someone who understood—someone who had always understood.
Sirius didn’t seem to mind at all. He simply settled in beside Remus, the two of them lying together in the dim light, with nothing more than the sound of their breathing filling the air. Slowly, Remus felt the tension slip away. The nightmare didn’t seem so close anymore.
Within minutes, he had drifted back to sleep, still curled up against Sirius, the warmth of his friend providing a kind of comfort that no words could.
The Morning After
The morning light was creeping into the dormitory when James Potter woke with a stretch, blinking as he rubbed his eyes. It was another Saturday, and there was the promise of a lazy day ahead—well, lazy by Marauder standards. But as he looked around, something caught his attention. His eyes flickered over to Remus’ bed, and the sight that greeted him made his stomach flip.
There, still tangled in the covers, were Remus and Sirius—together, and in the same bed.
Sirius was lying on his back, one arm resting loosely across his chest. Remus, with his face relaxed in sleep, was curled up beside him, his head resting on Sirius’ shoulder. Their bodies were so close, so comfortably entangled, and in the quiet stillness of the room, they looked entirely peaceful.
James froze. His stomach dropped. His thoughts scrambled.
Sirius and Remus... together?
James had known Sirius and Remus were close—close in a way that was different from the rest of the Marauders. But this? Seeing them like this? It hit him harder than he expected.
His heart twisted in his chest. He had always been aware of the way Sirius looked at Remus—how they seemed to share an unspoken bond that was more than just friendship. And the way Sirius felt when he was around Remus? James had seen that look, even if he’d never wanted to admit it. But seeing them like this, together, in the same bed, it shook him.
His chest felt tight, his mind racing. What did this mean? What was this? Were they a couple? Did they—did they love each other?
The thought hit James like a ton of bricks. He felt… gutted. He had spent so many years thinking that maybe, maybe he and Sirius could be more than just friends. But now, it seemed like that idea was slipping away, like something he hadn’t even known he was holding onto was now vanishing.
When the rest of the Marauders finally woke up and stumbled down to breakfast, everything felt... off. The usual banter wasn’t there. James was unusually quiet, his eyes distant, his smile tight. Sirius noticed immediately.
“Alright, Prongs?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow as he sat next to James at the Gryffindor table. “You’re awfully quiet this morning.”
James barely looked up. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, poking at his breakfast but not really eating.
Sirius studied him for a moment, concern written on his face. “You sure? You look like you’ve just been hit by a Bludger.”
“I’m fine,” James repeated, his tone a little sharper than he meant.
Remus, who had just joined them at the table, cast a glance between the two of them. He noticed how tense the air was, how Sirius was eyeing James carefully and how James was avoiding looking at either of them. He frowned but didn’t press it. There was something off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
It was Peter who finally broke the silence, in his usual oblivious way. “So, what’s the deal with you two last night, then?” he asked innocently, looking between Sirius and Remus.
Sirius blinked, clearly taken aback. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.
Peter leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Well, you two were practically glued to each other. I wake up last night and I saw you both... together.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
James stiffened at the mention of last night. His heart twisted, and his stomach dropped to his feet. He hadn’t realized Peter had seen them, and now the idea of their closeness being out in the open felt like it was too much. The knot in his chest tightened, and his hand gripped the edge of his plate a little too tightly.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Pete,” Sirius said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, clearly uncomfortable with where this was going. “We were just talking.”
Peter grinned. “Yeah, sure. Talking. In Remus’ bed?”
Remus gave a little shrug, his cheeks coloring faintly. “It wasn’t like that,” he said quietly, clearly not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I had a nightmare. Sirius stayed to make sure I was alright.”
Sirius nodded. “Nothing weird, I promise. We were just sleeping—comforting each other, that’s all. Don’t go getting any ideas, Pete.”
James felt a lump rise in his throat at those words. He didn’t know why, but hearing Sirius so casually brush off Peter’s teasing felt like a punch to the gut. Comforting each other. That phrase echoed in his mind, and all he could see was Remus’ head resting on Sirius' shoulder, the way their bodies had been so close.
His heart ached in a way he wasn’t prepared for.
Peter let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine. Just making sure. You two are close, though.” He dug into his food with a grin, clearly satisfied with the little bit of gossip.
James could barely focus on the rest of the conversation. He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened earlier, how he’d found them together, how everything was changing, and how he wasn’t sure where he fit into it anymore.
The knot in his stomach refused to loosen.