The Embrace of Acceptance.
"My boys!"
Effie Potter made her way out the door as Sirius and James made their way up the driveway. Behind her, though a tad slower, her husband was moving towards them as well.
"Mum!" James laughed as she reached him. She pulled him into a hug and placed a kiss on his temple. "You're squeezing me!"
"Live with it, I haven't seen you since October." It didn't take long for her, though, to let go of James in favour of going to Sirius. Monty embraced his son as Effie went to Sirius, cupping his face in her palms. She wasn't as tall as him, but she still managed to kiss his forehead. "Hi, my boy."
"Hi, Mum," Sirius said softly.
Walburga Black had always been Mother. Euphemia Potter had always been Mum.
"Was your trip okay?" Monty asked as he, too, went over to Sirius. He pulled him into a warm embrace and Sirius sank into it.
"Yeah, it was," Sirius said. "Spent it reading. Prongs spent it snoring."
Monty sighed and took the duffle bag that Sirius held in his hand wordlessly. There was a smile on his lips.
"Did not!"
"Did too!"
"I—"
"Boys!" Effie scolded lightly. "You've been here for two minutes. How do you even manage to live together?"
"Well, quite easy actually, Mum, since Prongs keeps bunking off with a certain red—AH!"
James had thrown his own duffle bag on the ground to run at Sirius. He collided with Sirius, arms around Sirius's waist as he sent them tumbling to the side and onto the lawn.
"UF!" Sirius let out as all the air was knocked out of him.
"Don't say that to our mum!" James hissed. "I'm her sweet, innocent—"
"When will I get to meet this redhead, James?" Effie called.
James pursed his lips at Sirius. "Fuck you, Black."
"Love you, too, Potter," Sirius smirked.
*
Sirius was going to do it on Christmas day. If there was one thing the Blacks cared about, it was tradition. And every year on Christmas, the whole noble family would meet at the family's holiday house to talk shit about each other.
Sirius didn't miss those days.
Not the way a part of him once had done.
After breakfast made by James and Sirius, Sirius excused himself and said he needed some fresh air.
"Want me to come with?" James asked.
"Nah, I'm good," Sirius said, smiling. "I'll be back soon." He hugged Monty, kissed Effie's cheek, and was then on his way. The Potter residence lay in the outskirts of Bristol, whereas the Black manor was more central. It was a relatively long way to walk, so Sirius went to the nearest phone box and called for a cab. He waited on the corner of the street, out of view of the Potter house, smoking a cigarette.
He longed for Remus at that moment. His calming presence; his soft smile; his radiating warmth. He hadn't seen him since the night where when they parted before he and James went up to their flat. He hadn't exactly been in the best mood, and he regretted it now.
He wouldn't see Remus for six days. That felt like an eternity.
The car arrived shortly after he finished his cigarette, and he gave the driver the address. As the car drove, he gazed out the window.
They passed the path he and James always took as a shortcut to reach the sweet shop when they were seven.
There was the bit of pavement where Sirius had once tripped and got a nosebleed, once again, in the company of James.
On the corner of the road the where car took a right turn, was Mrs Hudson's house, where they always pet her dog over the fence when walking home from school together on the days Sirius couldn't bear to face the manor just yet.
The memories flooded over Sirius as they drove.
He and James had many memories in this part of the city; the one Sirius had always considered the good part.
They passed his old school that he attended all the way up to year eleven. That place had always been the turning point in Sirius's mind. The bad side lay on this side of the school, which was a silly thought, really. The school was just one of the many schools in Bristol, and it didn't even lay in the midst of the city.
Still, Sirius's mind worked with a kid's logic most of the time.
Now the memories changed. He was still with a brother, but a different one this time. A brother, who had black hair, like the other one, but porcelain skin instead of tan. A brother, who only smiled when Sirius paid him attention because Sirius was his whole world.
Then he ruined that.
Really, time and family ruined them, but that didn't stop Sirius from remembering all the good times they'd had together as the cab driver slowly neared their house.
That was the pavement they'd walked along on the mornings when Sirius had refused to let their driver drive them to school; he'd found it embarrassing. And, of course, Regulus had always followed his big brother.
They drove past the tailor shop where he and Reg would always go and get their uniforms fitted for the new year.
Sit still, Regulus! And stop laughing, you're not a child any more.
He was twelve.
Sirius is making a funny face!
Sirius had been making googly eyes and poking his tongue out because he knew Regulus hated having the pins so close to his skin.
Sirius, stop making faces, your brother needs to sit still.
That voice made Sirius aware that the ruler would be raised over his fingers when he got home. But it was okay. Regulus had laughed. Regulus had laughed because of Sirius, and because Sirius was to blame, Walburga's angel of a son wouldn't be punished.
Regulus would never get to feel how it was like to get slapped in the face when one stepped out of line or to have the ruler snap over one's fingers. Never would he get to experience the feeling of blood dripping down one's back.
Never would he know that was what happened when their mother got angry at Sirius because Sirius always gladly took the blame and never told his brother what they did to him.
Until he saw with his own eyes, that was.
"Sir?"
Sirius snapped out of his thoughts, looking at the cab driver in the rearview mirror. "Sorry?"
"We're here," the man said.
"Oh. Right." Sirius looked out the window, and true enough, there it was. One of the biggest private properties in all of Bristol, surrounded by a tall, metal fence with spikes. The garden surrounded the manor which was in the middle of it all. The garden was still as full of flowers and trees as Sirius remembered it.
It was beautiful on the outside.
When one stepped inside, it was the coldest and most loveless building one could imagine.
"Alright then." He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket for money to pay the driver.
He stood outside the property for a long time. Or maybe for a short time. He wasn't sure. The gate was closed and locked, but he didn't need that to get inside. Sirius had before had to sneak home late in the night, mostly after having been at James'. Sometimes he got caught sneaking into the house; other times he didn't.
At last, he willed his feet to move, and he walked along the length of the fence and followed it as it took a turn. He let his fingers trail along the metal bars as he walked, his rings clanging against them.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The cold was biting at his skin. He could smell the perfumed smell of the flowers on the other side of the fence. He knew some of them were roses, but that was as far as his knowledge went. Lily would probably know the species better. Her parents were florists. James had told him.
At last, he reached the length of that side of the fence and came to a halt. Next to the Black property, there were other houses as well. Sirius was worried that someone might've moved the dumpster in the time he had been gone, but no, they still stood right there. A grin fleetingly touched his face and he got to work moving the dumpster.
It wasn't a big container like the ones that had been in the alley where he and Remus had spray-painted the wall. The memory made him smile. No, it was an oval one, made of metal with no wheels, and unbelievably heavy.
By the time he'd finally moved it over to the fence, he was panting and sweating slightly. He exhaled and looked up at the fence.
He looked up and he was sixteen.
Fifteen.
Fourteen.
Thirteen.
Ten.
Nine was how old he'd been the first time he'd pulled this stunt. Now, he was twenty-six and about to do it again. With a sigh, he got to work.
He had to admit his body wasn't what it had been at sixteen and by the time he had finally made his way over the fence, using the dumpster as leverage, he was panting and his body ached.
He hit the ground on the other side of the fence with a low thud and looked around the garden.
"I basically just broke in," he whispered, almost in awe. It was laughable. He'd spent so many years dreaming about leaving this place, and now he was back.
Sirius's relationship with his family had always been odd. He'd hated them for as long as he could remember, but he still longed for their love; their acceptance. When he at last knew he couldn't get either, he was kicked out, but still spent almost a decade trying to prove that he could be worthy of someone who didn't even spare him a second thought.
We have another son, they always used to say to him when he fucked up, if you can't be a proper Black, Regulus will be more than capable of being a good Black heir.
Was he, now? Sirius didn't know. For all he knew, his brother could be dead. Or in Dubai.
That thought was silly, so Sirius laughed. Loudly. And then the laughter morphed into sobs that racked his chest. His knees buckled, and he sat down before his legs gave out completely.
He spent a long time there on the ground. He cried like he'd never truly allowed himself to. Before, his sadness tore from his eyes in small bursts, but he'd never let himself acknowledge it truly. Not like this.
I'm—
I am—
"Fuck you," he sobbed. "Fuck you. All of you. Fuck you, you fucking fucked up family. I hate you. I hate that I've always wanted to be a part of you. But I have a new family now, you hear me!" The last words were a shout towards the house. "I have—I have Effie, Monty, and James! I've always had them, and they are ten times better the family than you ever managed to be! All you did was fuck me up!"
He was breathing heavily. He scouted the garden. His gaze landed on the pavilion not far from where he was crouched. Memories long ago hidden away flooded his mind. His jaw sharpened, and he stood, pointing an accusing finger at the manor.
He must've looked ridiculous, maybe a part of him would feel ridiculous later, but right now, he just needed to get it out.
"And guess what!" he shouted. "I'm in fucking love with a man." As he said it, he knew it was true. He was wholeheartedly in love with Remus Lupin. "I've always been destined to be, and nothing you could ever say to me could change that! You couldn't beat it out of me. It's just me, and you'll have to live with the fact that your own flesh and blood is a dirty queer as you call it! And you know what, I'm fucking proud!"
He exhaled, running a hand over his face. His whole body was shaking, but his eyes had stopped pouring. He had no more tears to spare this family.
Maybe except for Regulus, but he'd always been an extra special case. For now, though, those tears would stay inside.
Sirius began to walk then. He kept walking until he reached the window in the house he was looking for. Sirius's bedroom had been on the ground floor. When he looked in through the window, he was surprised to see it exactly as he had left it. The bed was still made as if a boy would be sleeping in it tonight; the books he hadn't brought to the Potters' stood on the shelf; the band posters still hung on the wall.
Sirius swallowed and placed his flat palm against the window. It was cold against his palm.
"You're free now," he whispered to someone who no longer existed. "I wish you'd let yourself enjoy it more."
With that, he turned on his heel and began to walk back. He had someone he needed to talk to.
*
"Remus, darling, it's Christmas, why are you so grumpy?" Hope said as she poured him a cup of tea.
"He misses his boyfriend," Lily teasingly said from where she sat opposite him on the couch.
"Shut up," Remus muttered. "Whose idea was it even to invite you over for Christmas?"
"Yours," Petunia said sarcastically. She was sitting on the floor, looking through a magazine.
"Shut up, Tunie," Lily said.
Hope sat down on the couch between Lily and Remus. Lily's parents were out on the porch, smoking pipes. Hope hated the smell. "So, boyfriend, eh?"
"He's not my boyfriend!" Remus insisted but he couldn't help the blush that spread on his cheeks.
Lily clicked her tongue. "You practically are. I'm just waiting for you to fuck already."
Hope cleared her throat. "Thanks for that, Lily." She faced Remus, a kind smile on her lips. "What's his name?"
Remus fiddled with his bottom lip. "Sirius."
"Sirius?" Petunia said, looking up. "Like the star?"
"Yeah," Remus said, thinking back to their first encounter. "He's a fucking star."
Petunia scoffed and turned back to her magazine.
"Do you love him?" Hope asked, taking a sip of Remus's mug of tea.
"I don't like this conversation," Remus said and stood up from the couch. "Mum, since you intend to drink my tea, I think I'll try and go on that run I mentioned earlier. Then I can shower before lunch."
"It's Christmas, darling," Hope said, her eyebrows knit together.
"And I really need to get out and move," Remus said. "Please, Mum?"
Hope pursed her lips but then nodded. "Okay, but don't go spray-painting anywhere, okay? I don't want another running away from cops story."
"Can't promise," Remus cheekily said and kissed her temple. He flipped Lily off, ruffled Petunia's hair simply because she hated it, and went to change.
Remus was nervous for some reason. A part of him was scared that the minute he sped up, his leg would crack beneath him. Just in case, before he went outside, he made sure to apply a new amount of the cream to his leg. A sigh fell from his lips as it got to work numbing his thigh.
He changed into a long-sleeved training shirt and jogging pants. He put on sneakers, and then he was out the door. Lily's parents had gone inside again by the time he stepped onto the porch. A part of him was relieved; he didn't want anyone to see him as he took his first run since the accident.
It was pain and it was personal.
If anyone was going to see it, it would be Sirius. But Sirius wasn't here. Remus's heart ached for him.
Do you love him?
Oh, how Remus loved Sirius Black, but he didn't want to voice that out loud to anyone before he said it to Sirius, and he wasn't going to tell Sirius until he was ready. Until they both were. It was a big thing to say; an easy thing to feel. In some way, Remus had known he was going to fall in love with Sirius Black since the very first time he saw him in the record shop.
He never wanted to just be friends.
He stretched his limbs as he prepared himself for what was about to happen.
"It's gonna be fine," he mumbled as he stepped down the porch.
"You can do this," he said as he walked over the lawn.
"Your legs have never given up, they won't now," he said as he stood on the pavement. The wind was biting at his skin; he could smell Christmas food from a neighbour's house.
He began to run.
His leg carried. His leg carried and it didn't hurt. His leg carried and he was running again.
Immediately, his breaths began to grow laboured. He hadn't moved fast in a long while, but that only urged him to run faster. Remus had never run to be in shape; Remus had run to escape, and for a long while, he'd been imprisoned by the bars of his own body.
He was laughing as he sprinted. He passed Mr Thomson who lived further down the street while walking the dog and sent him a cheeky, "Hello!" in passing.
He must've looked like a lunatic sprinting through the streets like that, as fast as his gangly limbs could manage.
His lungs were protesting but he continued.
He was sixteen and running away from the cops because he'd been creating art in places where it was needed.
He was eighteen and trying to sneak into his boyfriend's house, only to have to run away at full pelt when he was spotted through the window.
He was twenty-five and doing something he'd never thought he would be able to do again.
At last, many streets away from his childhood home, he came to a halt and threw himself onto the lawn by someone's house. The dead grass tickled his neck as he lay there and breathed. A happy smile was on his lips.
When he at last returned to his mum's property—this time walking—he didn't go into the house right away. Instead, he went into the garage. His mother's car was in there. It was a small, white Peugeot 205. Remus spent a few moments just looking at it.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Repeat.
Remus hadn't sat in a car since the accident, but at that moment, he felt invincible.
The key to the car hung on a small hook on the far wall to the garage door, and Remus grasped it before he could think further of it. He unlocked the car and opened the door to the front seat.
Again, for just a few moments, he just stood; eyes transfixed on the seat.
Pain. Glass. Sounds. Pain. Deep searing pain. Screams. His screams.
Remus exhaled deeply and shook his head. "C'mon," he mumbled. "It's just a car."
And it was, wasn't it? It was just a car. Remus had sat in a car many times before. He'd grown up going on road trips with his parents. He'd loved driving in cars; so much that he wanted his own. And he did get his own, and with that, everything changed.
Remus remembered something his doctor had first told him when he had got out of surgery. He'd been angry and upset at the world.
So, will I ever be able to walk again? he'd asked harshly.
You will, she'd answered calmly. It'll hurt but you'll learn to adjust. Until you do, just take it one step at a time.
One step at a time.
One step at a time, and suddenly you're running at full pelt again because someone took your pain away, even if only briefly. He still did it. He still ran when he once believed walking would be impossible.
If that was possible, sitting behind the wheel of a car didn't seem so far-fetched.
Remus took one last deep breath and moved into the car.
The seat was cold beneath him and there wasn't enough space for his legs to stretch out. Instinctively, he grasped onto the wheel; just clutching. Clutching like his life depended on it.
In some way, it felt like it did. He wasn't going to move the car today; he wasn't sure he would for a very long time, but for right now, this felt like a victory.
When Remus returned inside the house, he instantly went for the landline on the wall and put in the number to the Potters' residence—Sirius had given it to him days prior ("In case you miss me.")
It dialled and only seconds later it was picked up.
"Hello?" It was a warm, female voice.
"Hi," Remus breathed. "Is this the Potters' phone?"
"That it is," the woman confirmed. "I'm Effie Potter. May I ask who you are?"
"Remus," Remus quickly said. "James's and Sirius's friend. Can I talk to Sirius?"
"I'm afraid he's out at the moment, dear," Effie said. "But I'll tell him to call you back, how does that sound?"
"Yeah," Remus exhaled. "That—sounds good, yeah. Thank you."
*
James was sitting in the living room with his parents, eating Christmas candy when Sirius returned; cheeks flushed and chest heaving. Had he been running?
"Prongs!" Sirius exclaimed. "I need to talk to you. Right now!"
James straightened his back, a stream of bad scenarios making its way through his head. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no." Sirius waved him off. "I just need to talk to you. Alone."
"Sirius, dear," Effie said, "have you been running?"
"Yeah," Sirius panted. "It was great. Now, James, my room, now!"
"There is someone awaiting a phone call from you," Effie said.
"They'll have to wait a bit," Sirius said. "James, come on."
"Fine, fine!" James hurriedly said and stood from the couch.
"When you two get back down, you better be wearing your Christmas jumpers and ready for the yearly chess tournament," Monty said sternly.
"Promise," James and Sirius said in unison.
Sirius grabbed James's sleeve and dragged him into the hallway and up the stairs. He didn't stop dragging him along until they were inside Sirius's room.
"Sirius, what's going on?" James asked.
"I wanna tell you something," Sirius said and started pacing back and forth. If it was from nerves or excitement, James wasn't sure.
"I kind of figured out as much," James said slowly. "So, what is it?"
"I don't know how to say it, exactly," Sirius said frustratedly. He stopped pacing.
"How about you just spit it out?" James suggested, growing more and more confused by the minute.
"I don't like women!" Sirius burst out, eyes wide. "I really, really don't like women." He exhaled at the end of his sentence, eyes searching James's face.
It felt like James's brain stopped working, for a second completely blank. Then he said slowly, "You're sexist?"
"What?" Sirius erupted. "No—I'm not! Why would you think that?"
"Because you just said you don't like women," James spluttered. "What else would I think?"
"I—I—" Sirius was grabbling for the words. "What I meant was—I'm—"
"What, Padfoot?" James asked, confused.
"I'm gay!" Sirius practically shouted.
Silence followed his words; even Sirius looked surprised at what he'd said. James's heart skipped a beat.
"What?" he said slowly, brain slowly starting to work again.
"Yeah." Sirius cleared his throat; arms crossed. "I am. Always have been."
"I—You are?" James asked blinking rapidly, as if seeing and unseeing Sirius in front of him would make him understand easier.
"Yes, James. I'm fucking attracted to dudes. What more clarification do you want?" And, God, Sirius's eyes were wet and a faint tremble had set into his shoulders.
"Oh, Padfoot," James murmured lowly and instantly went to Sirius. He folded his arms around his lifelong best friend, and Sirius immediately returned the embrace. James stroked his back. "It's okay, it's okay. Did you think I'd be mad?"
Sirius leaned back, stepping out of the embrace. "You aren't?"
"Why would I be?" James's eyebrows furrowed. "Confused? Yes, definitely, but never mad."
"I think I can help with that. The confusion, I mean," Sirius whispered. He fiddled with his rings. "I want to tell you everything."
"Okay," James said softly, heart beating rapidly. "Wanna sit on the bed?" He gestured to it.
Sirius nodded silently and sat. James sat next to him. The bed dipped beneath their combined weight, making them gravitate towards each other.
"I... I never was quite truthful about what happened the day I was disowned," Sirius said, staring blankly ahead. "Something that I never told anyone. Something that I never let myself think about too much. Or ever, really."
"Okay," James murmured. He took Sirius's hand in his to stop him from fidgeting with his rings.
Sirius exhaled. "Do you remember that boy in our class in the eleventh year? Mark?"
James hummed. "I do, yeah. The two of you became... eh, friends?"
Sirius let out a dry chuckle. "I didn't understand what I felt for him at first. I'd always got drilled into my head that one day I would find a nice, respectable girl who I would marry and have loads of children to continue the line of Blacks.
"I didn't understand why I got butterflies whenever we talked or had to work together on an assignment in class. Then one day, I, um, I asked him to come to mine after school. He came from a respectable family, so I figured my parents wouldn't mind. And they didn't. Regulus was upset I told him to walk home alone that day, but some part of me was just so happy that I got to bring a friend home. They'd never let you visit, and you knew that, so we didn't even try."
James chuckled at that. "Yeah, they hated my guts."
"Probably still do," Sirius mused quietly.
"What then?" James asked.
"Then we got home to mine. We were talking and laughing. It was fucking great. It was a sunny day, one of the first really warm days that spring, so we went outside the pavilion. We continued to talk and to laugh. We'd brought a game of cards out. I remember—I was making fun of him for not winning that round. He told me to shut the fuck up. I told him he'd have to make me, and then he just—did. By kissing me. Right there. In the pavilion.
"I'd kissed girls before that, but nothing quite compared to the way it felt to have another boy's lips against mine. It felt so right but I knew that it was so wrong. That was when the bushes outside the pavilion started to move and Regulus ran away from towards the house. He'd seen."
"He didn't—?"
"He did," Sirius said and, for the first time since he began speaking, looked at James. "He told them. I ran after him, begging him not to, but he didn't slow down. He just went into the living room and said loudly, 'Sirius kissed that boy!'" Sirius's face was calm as he spoke. "And—You should've seen their faces, James. My mother's was the worst. Without missing a single beat, she asked my father for his belt, and he gave it to her. They told me to remove my shirt, and she beat the shit out of me with it while calling me all—all kinds of things."
"Oh, Sirius," James whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Then, when she considered herself done, she told me to leave. I looked at my father. His eyes were cold. I looked at my brother. He looked terrified but he did nothing. That was when I went to yours."
"You did," James said. He didn't know what else to say.
"Ever since then, I've tried to suppress this part of me," Sirius said. "I tried to like girls. I tried a lot but apparently it didn't work, because then he came, and turned everything upside down by just being him—and... amazing, and loveable, and—and—"
"Who?" James asked.
"Isn't it obvious by now, James?" Sirius asked, both eyebrows raised.
James's mind was flooding with all this new information; he couldn't think straight. "I—I don't know."
"What other gay men do you know?"
Then it clicked. "Remus?"
"Yeah," Sirius said. "Remus." A soft smile touched his lips.
"So you weren't replacing me!" James erupted, giddy.
Sirius scoffed and suddenly laughter streamed from both of them. "Of course, I didn't! No one can replace you, Prongs."
"Thank God," James said dramatically.
Sirius laughed softly. "Thank you, James."
"For what?" James asked.
"For being here, always, even though I have never been able to talk about it before. I'm sorry it made me seem like a shell of who I was, but this is who I am. Realising it's who I am, just took a long time to accept."
James realised, that that day many years ago, something hadn't clicked out of place inside Sirius—that was the day it clicked into place.
"Don't apologise for that." James squeezed his hand. "It wasn't easy for you."
"Yeah, it wasn't," Sirius muttering agreed.
A teasing smile touched James's lips. "By the way, the person who called you earlier was Remus."
"Really?"
Never before had James seen Sirius get up so quickly to leave a room. James chuckled and got up. He started to ruffle through Sirius's dresser to find his brother's Christmas jumper.