Year Seven
The Gryffindor Common Room was buzzing with the usual evening energy, students lounging by the fire, chatting in clusters, and the occasional spontaneous outburst from the corner of the room, where James was wrestling a broom from Peter, who had somehow ended up in a headlock. Sirius Black, for once, was nowhere to be seen.
Remus Lupin sat apart, perched on a windowsill, and looking out at the darkening Hogwarts grounds. He had been casually moping for what felt like weeks now, and even though he’d tried to act as though nothing was wrong, anyone who knew him—Lily especially—could see right through him.
Lily approached him with the quiet determination of someone who had endured just about all the angst she could handle in one lifetime. Tugging her red hair into a loose ponytail, she marched across the common room and plopped herself unceremoniously on the ledge next to Remus, bumping his arm in the process.
"Move over, Lupin. You're hogging the best brooding spot in the room," She said matter-of-factly, not above calling his behaviour out after weeks of ineffective communication and sad, dramatic sighs.
Remus startled, blinking at her before giving her a weak smile, proving her point with yet another dramatic sigh. "I’m not brooding."
"Sure you’re not." Lily crossed her legs beneath her and stared out the window alongside him. "What are you staring at, anyway? Some great revelation in the Forbidden Forest?"
"Just… thinking."
"Yeah, I figured. That’s the problem."
Remus raised an eyebrow, and Lily gave him a mock version of his exaggerated sigh, placing her hands on her hips like an exasperated mother. "Remus John Lupin, you’re overthinking this whole thing with Sirius, and frankly, I’m done watching you torture yourself. Now, what’s REALLY going on?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading. "It’s not that simple, Lily. Sirius… he’s complicated. WE’RE complicated."
Lily snorted so loudly it caught the attention of a couple of second-years by the fire, who glanced over before returning to their whispered gossip. “Oh, please. That’s just an excuse. Sirius is many things—reckless, loud, allergic to authority and, possibly, shirts—but you two are not that complicated.”
Remus’s lips twitched, but only just. “He does hate wearing shirts.”
“I think the Hogwarts laundry elves are starting a protest,” Lily said with a roll of her eyes. “But that’s beside the point. You’re both miserable, and I know you know it. You’re a prefect, for Merlin’s sake. How am I the only one with the guts to say it out loud?”
He opened his mouth to protest, but Lily steamrolled right over him.
“You can’t fool me,” She went on, her tone all-too-familiar in its Head-Girl scolding. “Look at yourself—sulking by a window like some tragically misunderstood house ghost. Meanwhile, Sirius is throwing himself into pranks as if getting detention for the rest of his schooling career is going to fix everything. Stinkbomb in McGonagall’s desk? Really?”
Remus’s head snapped up, curiosity flaring despite himself. “Did he really?”
“Oh, it was tragic,” Lily said, her voice dripping with mock pity. “McGonagall didn’t even blink. Just Vanished it with a flick of her wand and gave him The Look. You know the one.”
Remus winced. He did, in fact, know The Look. He’d been on the receiving end of it a few too many times.
“So yeah, your boyfriend’s not exactly handling things well either,” Lily said, shrugging.
“He’s not my—”
“Oh, don’t even try that with me, Remus,” Lily interrupted, her green eyes flashing with a warning. “We all know you two are whatever it is you are. The point is, you’re both a mess without each other. And I’m done watching this depressing soap.”
Remus turned fully to face her now, genuinely perplexed. "So what do you suggest, Lils? We have a long, emotional conversation where we bare our souls to each other? Sirius isn’t really the ‘talk it out’ type.” He mumbles, despite his assurances that prior to their little tiff, they would move in together. After Hogwarts- but before- all this.
Lily leaned back, pretending to think. "No, you’re right. Sirius doesn’t do heartfelt speeches unless it’s about motorcycles or breaking rules."
Remus shot her a skeptical look. “You’re underestimating him.”
"But," She said, a sly grin creeping onto her face, "He does respond to challenges."
Remus tilted his head. "What are you getting at?" He asked, but perking up ever so slightly at the comment.
Lily leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. "What if I told you that you and Sirius could have a future where you didn’t have to worry about the rest of the world? You could live in a grand manor, spend your days lounging in luxury, sipping the finest tea while your husbands—because let’s be real, James is coming with me in this fantasy—go off on whatever grand adventures they want."
Remus blinked at her, utterly lost. "What?"
"You heard me." Lily was fully in her element now, her grin widening. "You and me, Remus—rich housewives. You and Sirius get back together, James and I get married, and bam! Between the Black and Potter fortunes, we’d be swimming in Galleons. I’d never have to work a day in my life, and neither would you."
Remus’s small smile faded as he blinked at her, now looking genuinely confused. "Lily, you do remember Sirius was disowned when he left home at sixteen, right? He doesn’t have the Black family fortune anymore. Even if he is the heir, he doesn’t have a galleon to his name.”
Lily paused, then sniffed dramatically, waving her hand as if to dismiss his argument.
“Details.”
“Lily, I’m serious,” Remus said, chuckling in spite of himself. “He’s broke. There’s no grand manor, no tea on the veranda, no gold-trimmed curtains. Unless we move into James’s vault, we’re more likely to end up living in a shack.”
Lily wiggled her eyebrows mischievously, clearly having spent too much time with Hames. “So you’re with him because you love him? Ew.” She wrinkled her nose teasingly. “That’s so disgustingly wholesome, Remus.”
Remus finally let out a proper laugh, smiling for what felt like the first time in weeks. “Y-Yeah, I guess I am.” He grins like an idiot, despite himself.
Lily’s teasing grin softened into something warm and understanding. “That’s all the more reason to go fix things with him, then. You know he loves you just as much. And trust me, you’re both making everyone else miserable with all this moping. Especially James. He won’t shut up about Sirius needing to ‘man up’ and come back.”
Remus hesitated, doubt flickering in his eyes again. “But what if it doesn’t work out? What if he gets bored of me, or realizes I’m too… damaged?”
Lily rolled her eyes, her voice softening as she placed a hand on his arm. “Remus, he already knows who you are. And he loves you anyway. The real question is—what if you don’t try? What if you let fear hold you back from something great?”
Remus looked down, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. “I just don’t want to lose him.”
“Then don’t.” Lily smiled warmly. “I know Sirius can be an idiot, but he’s your idiot. And trust me, he’s lost without you. Merlin knows James and I are sick of him moping around. His last prank involved trying to fight the Giant Squid, Remus. You’d better do something before he kills himself.”
Remus chuckled. “Alright, I see your point. But there’s still no rich housewife future.”
Lily waved a hand dismissively again. “We’ll figure it out. You’re not off the hook just because Sirius was disowned.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “Right. Because the rich housewife dream depends on me getting back together with him.”
“Exactly!” Lily said triumphantly. “Plus, if anyone could find a loophole to get a hold of the Black fortune from those bigots, it’s you. Now, go- find your future husband and fix things before he dyes the Great Hall purple as a cry for attention.”
“Purple?”
“It’s been a long week, Remus. Please, just go,” Lily said, her tone a perfect mix of exasperation and amusement, but smiling ear to ear.
Remus finally stood up, his heart feeling significantly lighter than it had in days. As he left the Common Room, Lily called after him, “And don’t forget! Rich housewives, Moony! Rich housewives!”
He shook his head, chuckling as he walked away. As he exited the portrait hole, heading off to find Sirius, he couldn’t help but imagine the absurd vision Lily had painted—lounging in a grand estate, sipping tea, with Sirius and James causing chaos somewhere in the distance, the heirs to their respective estates playing at their feet. Sirius returning to him, wearing the coat and tails he had seen him in in their fourth year together when he'd been forced into a Black Family event (And which Remus had never forgot, thank you very much).
He'd walk back to him like something out of Pride and Prejudice, and Remus would grip his long dark hair, pulling his head back slightly, and kiss him, until they were forced apart for the sake of the children and polite company.
It was an absurd daydream—borderline ridiculous—but the more he thought about it, the more it warmed his heart.
He didn’t need the Black fortune, even if he was able to access it. He didn’t need some manor house or gold-trimmed curtains.
He just needed Sirius.
He found himself nearing an empty classroom—well, almost empty, if not for the telltale sound of shuffling feet and muffled cursing coming from behind the door. Remus’s curiosity got the better of him, and he quietly pushed the door open, only to be greeted by a sight that was at once completely unsurprising and entirely predictable.
There was Sirius Black, shirtless, standing on a chair with one foot balanced precariously on a desk, a wand in one hand and a half-empty bucket of magenta paint in the other. The walls were splattered with bright, clashing colors—neon green and fuchsia streaks haphazardly covering every surface. Half the paint, unsurprisingly, had ended up on Sirius himself.
Sirius looked down at Remus, his expression a perfect mix of guilt and mischief.
“I can explain,” He said, making no attempt to climb down from his precarious perch.
Remus stared at him for a long moment, taking it all in—the absurdity of the situation, the chaotic beauty that was Sirius Black, shirtless, paint-splattered, and utterly unapologetic. Streaks of neon green and fuchsia covered the walls, half the bucket of magenta paint dripping from Sirius’s hand, the rest decorating his bare chest. It was such a typical Sirius scene: wild, reckless, and utterly nonsensical, yet somehow, it all fit. Remus couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with a mixture of fondness and amusement.
A slow smile spread across his face as he shook his head. “No, you can’t,” Remus replied, his tone playful and warm. He reached out, wiggling his fingers pointedly, the gesture so simple but packed with meaning.
It was all Sirius needed to see.
Without hesitation, like an eager dog desperate to win back his master’s favour, Sirius scrambled down from the desk, his movements quick and ungraceful, but with a certain boyish charm that Remus could never resist.
As Sirius stood before him, looking up with wide, attempted innocent eyes that did nothing to hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, Remus felt a familiar tug in his chest. Sirius was chaos personified—reckless, unpredictable, and utterly impossible to pin down. But he was also loyal, passionate, and so full of life it was contagious. Standing there, shirtless and splattered in paint, Sirius was both disaster and perfection in one.
Remus had spent too long trying to make sense of it, worrying about the future, questioning if Sirius could ever really settle down, if they could ever be more than fleeting moments of stolen affection and endless pranks. But now, watching Sirius with his familiar grin, Remus realized something important: This was Sirius. The man standing before him, covered in paint and mischief, was the same man he loved—the same man who would dive headfirst into danger for his friends, who would stand by Remus through the darkest of times without question.
And maybe, just maybe, that silly daydream of Lily's wasn’t such a bad future for them, after all.