The night was bitterly cold, and Remus Lupin could feel it deep in his bones as he stood by the window of the tower. His breath came out in misty clouds as he stared up at the starry sky, a beautiful expanse of silver and midnight that did nothing to calm the storm inside him.
He felt sick. Not because of the usual ache in his limbs from the moon's pull, but because of the twisting knot of rage and sorrow that had been churning inside him for hours. How could Sirius do this?
Remus clenched his fists, feeling the rough stone of the window sill dig into his palms. He'd never felt more betrayed.
The memory played over and over in his mind: Sirius laughing off-handedly, Severus looking both smug and horrified, and the horrifying realization of what Sirius had done. The Shrieking Shack. On a full moon. With Remus, the monster, waiting inside.
Remus squeezed his eyes shut, biting down on the wave of nausea. He knew how dangerous he was, how out of control the wolf could be. He spent every full moon fearing not the pain, not the transformation itself, but what he could do to others. What he might do if he ever got loose. If Severus had actually come into the Shack before James had pulled him back…
He exhaled shakily, his chest tight. How could Sirius, of all people, have been the one to put him in that position?
The echo of Sirius’s apology still rang in his ears, desperate, broken.
“I didn’t think he’d actually go, Moony, I swear! I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”
Remus had wanted to believe him. Merlin, he wanted to, but all he could see when he looked at Sirius was the possibility of what might have happened. The fear that if Sirius didn’t understand now, then maybe he never truly would. And Remus couldn’t live with that. Couldn’t live with Sirius thinking it was a joke, or something that didn’t matter.
He couldn’t live with the idea that Sirius saw him as anything less than the danger he really was.
“I need space,” he had said, his voice hoarse and raw. “I can’t, I just need to think.”
That had been the last thing he said before walking away, unable to stand the way Sirius looked at him, like he’d torn something vital apart between them.
Sirius had gone to the lake. Remus knew because he’d seen him from the tower, a dark figure pacing along the shore, hands in his hair, shoulders hunched against the weight of everything.
And yet, even now, with the crushing weight of betrayal, Remus’s heart still ached with something more, something deeper. He loved Sirius. He knew that. It was a fact as steady as the stars above him, as certain as the pull of the moon.
But he didn’t know if love was enough to erase the hurt.
Sirius Black stood by the lake, shivering despite the chill in the air. He couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel anything beyond the crushing weight of guilt pressing down on his chest.
How had it gone so wrong?
He’d never felt so much like a Black as he did now, staring out at the water, his reflection warped and jagged on the surface. Remus’s eyes, those soft, amber eyes that had always looked at him with warmth and quiet affection, had been filled with something else tonight. Hurt. Betrayal. And Sirius had been the one to put that look there.
He couldn’t stop replaying it in his mind: the moment Remus had realized what he’d done, the way he’d stepped back like Sirius had burned him. The way he’d looked at Sirius like he wasn’t the person he thought he knew. Like he was a stranger.
Sirius had thought it would be funny, a stupid prank on Snivellus to teach him a lesson about sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. He hadn’t thought Severus would actually go to the Shack. But that didn’t matter now. He had done it. He had risked everything, Remus, their friendship, and Merlin, their love, because he hadn’t thought it through.
“Idiot,” he muttered to himself, kicking a pebble into the water.
He looked up at the stars, blinking against the tears that threatened to spill over. The stars had always been a comfort to him, a reminder that there was something bigger than the world he came from. Something beyond the Black name, beyond the darkness of his family.
And yet tonight, the stars seemed like a cruel reminder of what he might have lost.
His thoughts drifted back to another starry night, months ago, when everything had felt so different. It had been quiet, just the two of them, lying side by side on the grass outside the castle, staring up at the sky.
It had been the first time they had kissed.
Sirius remembered how nervous he had been, his heart racing in his chest, his hands shaking just slightly as he’d shifted closer to Remus. It hadn’t been like his usual bravado. No smirk, no teasing. Just the two of them, under the stars, both unsure and a little bit scared.
Remus had looked at him, eyes wide, questioning, and Sirius had swallowed hard, leaning in slowly, giving him every chance to pull away. But Remus hadn’t. He had stayed still, his breath catching softly, and then, oh, Merlin, he had kissed Sirius back.
It had been soft, shy, their lips brushing tentatively before deepening into something more. It wasn’t like the hurried, intense snogs Sirius had had before. This was different. This was Remus. Warm and steady and right.
When they had pulled apart, Sirius had felt like his heart might burst out of his chest, and the look on Remus’s face, blushing, shy, but smiling, had been more beautiful than the stars themselves.
And now… now, that same boy was somewhere up in the tower, probably thinking he was a monster. Because of Sirius.
Sirius swore under his breath, sinking down onto the cold grass. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know if he could.
But he had to try.
Remus didn’t know how long he had stood by the window, staring at the night sky, his heart a mess of tangled emotions. He still felt raw, still hurt and betrayed, but under it all, there was love.
He couldn’t forget their first kiss, the way Sirius had been so careful with him, so different from the reckless, brash boy everyone else saw. He couldn’t forget the way Sirius had made him feel, like he wasn’t a monster. Like he was just Remus. Just… Moony.
And that thought hurt more than anything. Because Sirius had made him feel like he was worth something, and now… now it felt like Sirius had taken that away.
But did he really believe that?
Remus pressed his forehead against the cool glass, closing his eyes. No. He knew Sirius hadn’t meant for it to go this far. He knew Sirius was reckless, impulsive, but he wasn’t cruel. And he hadn’t wanted to hurt him.
But still… it didn’t make the pain go away. It didn’t erase the fear, the shame that always lingered beneath the surface.
Sirius had apologized, and Remus believed he was sorry. But was that enough?
A tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away, hating the weakness it made him feel. He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t. But some days… some days, he couldn’t convince himself of that.
And yet, even now, staring at the stars, his heart still called for Sirius.
Sirius lay back on the grass, staring up at the sky, the memory of that first kiss swirling in his mind. He could still feel the ghost of Remus’s lips on his, the warmth of his hand resting lightly against his chest. That had been one of the happiest moments of his life, lying under the stars with the boy he loved.
He wasn’t ready to lose that. He wasn’t ready to lose Remus.
Sirius closed his eyes, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, Moony.” He didn’t know if Remus could hear him, but maybe, just maybe, the stars would carry his words up to the tower.
Remus felt something tug at his heart, and he sighed, his breath fogging the glass. He wasn’t ready to forgive Sirius. Not yet. But he wasn’t ready to lose him either.
He loved him. Despite everything, he still loved him.
With one last glance at the stars, Remus turned away from the window, his heart heavy but resolute.
Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other.