The Prettiest Star

After several days of thinking (and several more days of panicking), Sirius had come up with a plan. A plan to seduce one Remus John Lupin. 

It was simple, really. He’d had romantic conquests before. All it took was a little bit of flirting, a little bit of that trademark Sirius Black charm, and most people fell at his feet. It was like a game, and a well-practised one, too. Sirius had played it at almost every party since he was fifteen. Simple, really.

Except it wasn’t simple, because this was Moony. Moony wasn’t just some attractive stranger on the dancefloor, he was… Well, he was Moony. He wouldn’t be so easily won over with a grin and a wink. No, it would take more than that. 

Even so, this was the only way Sirius knew how to go about making someone fall in love with him, so this was what he’d do. He’d just have to try twice as hard as usual. 

It began on Sunday. 

Over the summer, Sirius had purchased a pair of tight leather trousers, in an effort to copy the fashion styles of the rockstars he idolised so much, and that evening, he tried them on. 

He stood before the mirror, stretching and angling himself, then turned to look back over his shoulder at Remus. 

“Do you think these make my arse look good?” he asked innocently, as if he didn’t know. Remus was rendered speechless for several seconds, in which Sirius looked at him expectantly. 

“Yeah,” Moony replied eventually, “Leather… does that.” 

This was not exactly the response Sirius had been looking for.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, returning to his reflection. 

“Yeah,” replied Remus weakly. He didn’t sound very sure. 

On Monday night, while Remus was diligently doing his Transfiguration homework in bed, Sirius went over to his bedside table, and started rummaging around. 

“Padfoot?” asked Remus, his voice unsure. Sirius’ hand slipped out of the wooden drawer, now holding a square of milk chocolate, and he ran quickly away to the other side of the room. Realising what was going on, Remus dropped his homework and got up. “Give it back!” he commanded. Sirius flashed him a grin. 

“Come and get it,” he teased, and he put the piece of chocolate between his teeth. Even with all the space between them, Sirius could’ve sworn he saw Remus gulp. Soon, he started making his way over, though. He walked right up to Sirius, an unreadable expression on his face. They stood one in front of the other, Sirius still grinning away, before Remus plucked the chocolate right from his mouth. 

“Never steal my chocolate again,” he said darkly, and Sirius couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He watched as Remus went back to his bed, taking up his homework once more. After a minute, Remus glanced back up at him, and took a pointed bite of the chocolate. Now it was Sirius’ turn to gulp, as he watched Moony wrap his lips around the sweet confectionery. Yet another failed attempt at flirting, he surmised. He would have to up his game. 

On Tuesday, he strutted up and down the dorm in nothing but his pyjama pants, and that certainly caught Moony’s eye. Every time Sirius passed him he looked up from his reading (something that was usually quite difficult to distract him from). Sirius couldn’t tell if it was out of attraction or surprise, however, and pretty soon Remus mumbled something about going to the library and left, so clearly he hadn’t been interested enough to stick around. 

Later that night, Sirius had snuck into his bed and asked to sleep there, only to be told very sternly to put on a shirt first. Yet another failed attempt. 

On Wednesday, upon returning from Divination Sirius announced to him that he needed help studying. Remus heartily agreed to help, more than a little surprised at Sirius’ interest in anything academic. 

“I’ve really got to practise palm readings,” he explained in a lilting voice. Remus gave him his hand, which was shaking ever so slightly, and Sirius traced the lines in his skin with fluttering fingers. It sent all sorts of butterflies and nerves flaring up inside him. Hopefully it was doing the same for Remus. He looked up at Moony, and in sultry tones, told him “It says we’re destined to be together.”

Remus looked a little startled at first, but then he’d frowned. 

“I don’t take Divination and even I know that’s not my love line, Sirius.” That had somewhat ruined the moment.

And then, that Thursday, feeling that things weren’t coming along as he’d hoped, Sirius had sat in his lap. He hadn’t planned it, exactly, but when he’d spied Moony sitting in the best armchair by the fire, Sirius jumped at the chance (quite literally seeing as he’d flopped himself into Moony’s arms). 

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked sweetly, before Remus could put up any protest. He looked up through his lashes. 

“No,” Remus managed to stammer out. Sirius set to work making himself very comfortable. He leant against Remus’ chest, nestling into his woollen jumper, and draped one arm over his shoulders. Remus continued to read his book, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Sirius tried to press himself even closer, but Remus had only asked to get up. 

“Bathroom,” he explained, and Sirius let him go. Once again, he had failed. 

On Friday he greeted him at breakfast with a hug from behind, wrapping his arms around Remus’ waist. As they sat side by side and ate, Sirius passed his hand over the small of his back. Just a ghost of a touch, really, but Moony shot him a quizzical look all the same. Sirius only smiled in response. Then, on the way to History of Magic, he’d clutched Remus’ arm the whole walk. It gave Sirius a thrill to touch him, as small as each gesture was. 

He had always been quite touchy-feely with Remus, but now that he was making a conscious effort it was different. Jittery and nerve wracking. Sirius had never felt that way about flirting before.

That Saturday, another idea had wormed its way into Sirius’ head. He and Remus were walking side by side, on their way to the Quidditch pitch to watch James’ practise. Their arms swung back and forth, and their hands brushed a little. 

“Sorry,” apologised Remus.

“No problem,” Sirius managed to bite out. He was a bundle of nerves. He glanced sidelong at Moony’s face, trying to gauge what he was thinking. And what he would think when Sirius… 

Remus looked over at him, catching him staring, and Sirius turned quickly away. 

“Alright, Pads?” he wondered. 

“Fine,” he squeaked. 

They were almost at the pitch now, the towering stands and goal hoops looming up before them. Sirius glanced furtively at Remus, and then at his scarred hand, then back up again. Sirius’ palms were clammy. He wiped them on his robes. 

Just do it he thought to himself, just reach out and…

Sirius grabbed Remus’ hand in one swift motion. He looked straight ahead, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. Remus hadn’t looked over at him yet, or at least not directly, but he could practically feel his surprise. He could also feel that his face was probably bright red. 

Remus held his hand all the way to the Quidditch pitch. And still, he didn’t let go as they walked up the stands to find a seat. Or even when he took out his book from his pocket and began to read. It made Sirius smile impossibly wide. 

He only let go when Sirius went to join James in the air after the Gryffindor practice was over. Sirius wasn’t on the team, he lacked the discipline for that, but he liked to have a fly-around once in a while. 

He did a few loops of the pitch, his heart still racing, as he tried to process it all. 

Moony had held his hand. That was a success, wasn’t it? 

Giddy and grinning, Sirius flew even faster on his next lap. James threw the Quaffle at him, and they began to pass it back and forth. Sirius kept glancing down at Remus, wondering if he was watching or not. It was hard to tell from so high up, but if he had to guess…

“Head in the game, Pads!” James shouted over to him, chucking the Quaffle in his direction. Sirius rushed to catch it, almost missing. 

“Oi!” he called back reproachfully. Now he had a new idea. A really good one. Clutching the Quaffle, Sirius dipped into a dive. He flew over to Moony, the wind tearing past him, and said “This one’s for you, Moons!”

He didn’t even wait to see Remus’ reaction, only carried on to the goal, arm raised and ready, and…

He missed. Spectacularly.

Behind him, Sirius could hear James laughing his arse off. He could only imagine what Remus must’ve been thinking. Sirius didn’t want to imagine. 

Eventually, James stopped laughing at him, and they played a bit longer, Sirius trying desperately to forget his embarrassment. On their way to breakfast, James managed to remind him. 

“That was some shot, Pads,” he said, biting back a smile. Sirius’ face soured. 

“Oh, shut up,” he muttered. He looked over at Remus, just to see. He was wearing a similar expression to James, as though trying not to burst out laughing, and when he caught Sirius’ eye, he broke into a semi-apologetic smile. 

Despite Sirius’ brief win with the hand-holding, he had managed to undo it all with his Quidditch antics, and was right back to square one. All he’d really achieved so far was to make a complete fool of himself, which surely wasn’t going to make Moony fall head over heels. 

Later that day, a chance at redemption presented itself. They were sitting at a table in the Common Room. Moony was studying, Sirius was having an evening snack, and Peter was doing a mixture of the two, while James was nowhere to be found. 

After a while, Peter went up to the dorm to try and find something, and Sirius and Remus were left alone. 

Feeling daring, Sirius (who had long since kicked off his shoes) brushed his foot against Remus’ leg. Remus glanced up at him, probably expecting an apology or an excuse for an accident, but Sirius said nothing. Looking right at Remus, he did it again, this time running his foot up and down Remus’ trouser leg in one slow caress. When Remus didn’t say anything, he did it again, looking up through his lashes. 

“Sirius,” came Remus’ voice, half chiding, half pleading. 

“What?” asked Sirius innocently, his foot still running slowly along Remus’ leg. 

“You know what!” he hissed, lowering his voice and moving his leg away. Sirius stopped playing footsie, but persisted with his act of innocence.

“What?” he asked again, smirking slightly. Remus set his head in his hands and exhaled a long, deep breath out. When he looked back up there was a palpable air of nervousness in his eyes. 

“Pads,” he began cautiously, “Are you… flirting with me?”

It had taken him long enough to catch on. 

“Maybe,” he replied contrarily, “Would you like me to be flirting with you?” Remus stared at him. He seemed to be thinking. What he was thinking, Sirius could only guess at. 

“What’s going on?” he asked eventually, “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No joke,” he shook his head. Remus stared at him some more. 

“Then what…” he stopped short, his eyes caught over Sirius’ shoulder. Sirius turned around to see what had caught his eye, and there was Peter, on his way back. 

“Alright, lads?” asked Pete once he’d reached the table. 

***

As soon as Pete had gone up to get ready for bed, Remus turned accusingly back to Sirius, a question written in his eyes. But before he could ask it, Sirius asked one of his instead. 

“Do you like anyone?” he blurted out. He had to know before he said anything stupid. Remus blinked at him. 

“...Like anyone?”

“Romantically,” Sirius clarified. He stared at Remus head on, waiting for an answer. 

“Yes,” he admitted, after a beat. 

“Really?” asked Sirius quickly, his stomach doing flips, “Who is it?” 

Again, Remus took his time to respond. 

“Well…” he began vaguely, as though thinking it over, “He’s a Gryffindor…” A Gryffindor? Inter-house competition? “He’s very sweet.” Sirius wracked his brains, trying to think who Moony might be referencing. “A bit of a rebel, actually,” added Remus fondly, “He likes Bowie… And ABBA.” Whoever he was, he couldn’t like Bowie and ABBA, that was Sirius’ music. That just wasn’t fair. “He's an awful flirt,” finished Remus. Who on Earth could he be talking about? Who else was being ‘an awful flirt’? Sirius burned with jealousy. 

“Does he like you back?” he demanded, coming off a little too desperate. He had to know. 

“I don’t think so,” replied Remus, his tone changing to something more sombre, “No.”

“What a fool,” said Sirius viciously. 

“Oh yes,” agreed Moony, “He’s definitely a fool.” He chuckled a bit at that. Sirius couldn’t think why, but hopefully this mystery boy was foolish enough for Remus to lose interest. 

“Do you think you’ll…” Sirius trailed off, “Is he cool?” he said instead. 

“So cool,” smiled Remus. Sirius felt more jealousy flare up inside him. Cooler than me? He wanted to ask, but he didn’t dare. He wasn’t sure if he would like the answer. “What about you?” Moony ventured, “Do you like anyone?” 

“No!” he denied immediately, feeling flustered. 

“No one at all?” prompted Remus. Sirius shook his head resolutely, feeling his face heat up. “Ok,” said Remus flatly, that sombre tone returning.