The first petal appeared two weeks after Sirius and Mary's breakup. James was off somewhere with Reg, and Remus was helping Sirius with his History of Magic essay and doing his best not to react every time Sirius' knee pressed against his under the table. Bent over a thick tome on a corner table in the library, so close Remus could smell Sirius' hair, could feel it tickle his cheek if he leaned a little closer. It was work to focus when all he could smell was peppermint and cigarette smoke, when he had a full view of the way Sirius' lips pursed a little as he concentrated. When Remus felt that familiar prickle in his throat, he ignored it like he usually did, nothing he'd tried worked to soothe it, and he was getting used to the sensation.
He felt it every time Sirius was near, almost like he was allergic to him, as stupid as that sounded, his whole body seemed painfully aware of Sirius, every touch burned and every time he had snogged Mary in front of him, the air would become thick, like breathing through a straw. Remus loved Sirius quietly, knowing it could never be reciprocated, and that he would go to the grave with the secret, unwilling to compromise their friendship. He'd have Sirius in any way he could, even if he had to love him from afar, to live with never speaking the words, it was enough to have Sirius in his life, to merely be in the brightest star in the sky's orbit. Sirius wasn't even gay, but Remus still couldn't get himself to shake him, couldn't look away from the beautiful disaster he was, and couldn't imagine being in love with anyone else.
Sirius was incredibly tactile, which didn't help the matter, and sometimes Remus wondered if he was doing it on purpose. If he knew the effect he had on Remus and was teasing him; it was the brush of their fingers when he passed the jam at breakfast, body leaning into his side more heavily than necessary as they bent over the map, whispering about prank ideas, a lingering stare over cups of butterbeer at a party. The moments were so small, practically nothing, but each made him feel electric, fizzling in his veins. Remus did his best to remind himself it was in his head, Sirius was just as tactile and more with James every day, Remus was only hypersensitive to it. But still, he wondered, and he dreamed.
"I just don't understand why we need to memorize the dates of the Goblin Wars, I'm not a Goblin, this is hardly relevant to me," Sirius complained, huffing as he crossed out another word on his parchment.
"History is always relevant, whether it applies to you or not," Remus responded airily, distracted once again when Sirius brushed his hair over his shoulder, exposing his long neck. Clearing his throat, He said, "You spelled 'byrnie' wrong, it's b-y, not b-e."
"Bugger, can't you just write this for me, please, Moons?" When Remus shook his head, preparing to protest, Sirius grabbed his hand, batting his eyelashes, "Please, Moony of mine, my Moonage Daydream, Moonykins!"
Sirius leaned into him, so close that Remus could see the flecks of gray in his eyes and the slight indent in his bottom lip from chewing on it in the same place over and over. He often wondered what Sirius would taste like, smoke for sure, but what else? Would he taste like the treacle tarts he favored so much? Remus shook himself, heat spreading across his cheeks and ears as he did his best to ignore the warmth wrapped around his hand and the pretty flutter of Sirius' eyes, something building in his chest, a burning intensity.
"No! You can't just-"
The words were cut off by a coughing fit that rattled in his chest, searing a hole in his sternum as the air tried to get in. The tickling sensation in the back of his throat intensified, like his coughs were loosening something that couldn't be expelled, his body shaking with it. The warmth of Sirius' hand left him, and Remus nearly groaned, feeling the loss more than he respectfully should.
"Merlin, don't do it if it's gonna kill you. You really such a swot that the mere idea makes you choke?"
Remus waved him off, grunting through coughs, "Bastard, I'm fine."
With one more deep cough, there was a release, something torn away, allowing air back into his lungs before a featherlight velvety feeling coated his tongue. Remus turned away from Sirius in his chair before reaching into his mouth and pulling out a small white flower petal, tinged with lavender at the edges. Breathing heavily, he gaped at it, barely registering Sirius still talking to his back.
"Alright, Moons?"
Remus curled his fist around it, shoving the small petal into his trouser pocket and gathering his books hastily, "I-I've gotta go, you can just copy my essay and switch the words around. See you."
He toyed with the idea of curses, hexes, and jinxes, wondering if maybe one of the Slytherins put a spell on him, but he hadn't been in any altercations lately, and he couldn't think of a single spell that took weeks to make itself known. Even if it was a spell, it was pretty tame by Slytherin's standards. The first petal seemed to start a trend, and Remus found himself coughing up one or two petals a day, hiding them in his pockets until he could figure out what to do with them. He thought about asking Sirius about it, briefly wondering if it was a prank as whatever it seemed to flare around Sirius the most, but the first time Remus had coughed up a petal, Sirius hadn't laughed or given any indication that he knew what was going on. Plus, Sirius was rubbish about hiding when he was scheming, he would get far too giddy to keep his pranks a secret for long, and he was much more interested in instant gratification, not a slow prank that evolves over weeks.
So far, Remus had played it off as too much smoking when his friends began to notice the coughing fits, which was highly plausible as he admittedly enjoyed a smoke or two (or five) every few days. James leaped on this, insisting Remus and Sirius hand over their smokes as he was always harping on them about the nasty habit, more than happy to have evidence to support his constant lectures. Remus' lungs felt clogged constantly, and he became winded easily, all of which he would've chalked up to a cold, if not for the strange white flower petals. They were all the same size and shape, tinged at the ends with the same lavender shade. When he'd emptied his pockets of all the petals, hidden behind his bed curtains, he compared them, realizing how they made the perfect star-shaped flower when placed together.
Friday night found Remus in the library, searching for answers to his strange problem. He started in the herbology section, selecting a book about the etymology of flowers in hopes of identifying the particular petals he coughed up so frequently. He almost bypassed the magical diseases section before he decided it might be a good place to start. Remus scanned the titles, unsure of what he was even looking for, and considering the merits of asking Madam Pince if she knew anything about a disease that makes someone cough up flowers before something caught his eye.
A forest green book with a gold outline of a flower on the spine titled, Hanahaki Disease: The Flowers of Love. With sweaty palms, Remus reached for it, freeing it from the shelf along with a plume of dust that made him sneeze. He flipped through the pages until he came across a picture of lungs and a ribcage with full-grown flowers and vines wrapped around them, one vine crawling up to the throat area where a bloom formed at the end, right behind the uvula.
"The victim of Hanahaki develops this rare disease by extreme exposure to deep, unreciprocated love. The symptoms include itchy throat, coughing up flower petals and blood, and in extreme and untreated cases, full blooms of the flower that resembles the object of their affection. Without treatment, the blooms will become an extreme danger to the victim, asphyxiating them. There are only two known cures to Hanahaki, the victim must believe and receive reciprocated love from the object of their affection, or have the perilous surgery to remove the root of the blooms, and therefore, remove any love they had for the person. Without either treatment, the victim will likely die, unable to prevent the blooms from spreading."
The words swam on the page as Remus' eyes began clouded with tears, a bone-deep fear spreading through his body. He felt more aware than ever of the compression in his lungs, the constant burn in his chest, and the way it felt as if he never could take a full breath these days. He thought of Sirius, beautiful Sirius with his sparkling blue-gray eyes, the crinkled smile lines around his mouth, and his long, wild curls that he so often swept back in a bun held together by his wand. Sirius, with a barking laugh as big as him, as fiercely loyal as his animagus had proven, and his love for music that filled up all the silence he couldn't stand. There was no doubt it was him, there could never be anyone else. The book slid from his slack, trembling hands, hitting the floor with an audible thunk, though Remus could hardly hear it over his churning thoughts. Funny, Remus had always thought the lycanthropy would kill him, figures it'd be Sirius Black who would, in the end.
"Remus?"
A flash of gray eyes in Remus' line of sight had him recoiling on instinct, he couldn't see Sirius like this, not now. Remus scrubbed at his face, trying to wipe away evidence of his distress and collect himself. Sirius bent down to collect the book on the floor and Remus lunged forward to grab it before he could, immediately panicked at the idea of him finding out.
"Wait, Sir-" Remus cut himself off when the man looked up, deflating with relief as he realized it wasn't Sirius at all, but Regulus. He snatched the book out of Regulus' hands, but not before he'd read the title, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Sorry, need that for an essay."
Regulus narrowed his eyes at Remus, glancing back and forth between him and the book, "You were crying." He stated, a comment, not a question.
"Nah, I've just been reading for too long. Burning the midnight oil and all that," Remus tried not to shrink under Regulus' scrutinizing stare, shuffling the book under his arm to hide the title.
"My cousin had Hanahaki, you know? Andromeda."
"She did? What happened? I mean, she's alive, I know, so did she get the procedure or?" Remus tried not to show his eagerness, hoping that Regulus knew something that could help him that wasn't confessing or removing all the love he has for Sirius surgically. He doesn't think he could stand to do that, loving Sirius added sweetness to his life, and being loved by Sirius, even if it was merely platonic, meant so much to him. His life was a lonely winding road before Sirius and James came in, the brightest star and the sun lighting the way, loving him like it was easy, like he was more than a dark creature or a tragic sob story trapped in a teenage boy.
"That's why she ran away. It was Ted she was in love with, and my family obviously wanted her to get the procedure, as he wasn't a pureblood, but she refused. Suppose she was lucky Ted loved her back."
Remus deflated, "Oh, so there wasn't... there wasn't another option?"
He took a frustrated breath when Regulus shook his head, glaring at the ceiling while he willed himself not to cry. How could Remus choose between losing a friend through confessing his love and being humiliated by the rejection, or removing all love he had for him entirely? Could he live without loving Sirius? Remus had been resigned to a life of only getting to have Sirius as a best friend, to a platonic love even when it burned him, even when he wanted so much more, when he wanted everything. Now he couldn't even have that, not if he couldn't feel any love for him at all.
"Not that I've heard. Are we going to keep pretending you're writing an essay or are you going to tell me what's going on?" Regulus asked calmly, straightforward as always. When Remus didn't answer, still looking anywhere other than Regulus as he fought tears, he continued, "Is it you? Someone you know?"
Remus swallowed, shaking his head, "You can't tell anyone, I've barely found out myself, I don't even know where to begin processing this."
"Well, if it is you, that's easy isn't it?"
Remus whipped his head to look at the boy, who now had a sly smirk on his face, "What do you mean, it's easy?"
"It's Sirius for you, obviously," Regulus said like he was daft, but Remus' head was still spinning, how did he know Remus was in love with his brother? Regulus said it so simply, like it was a fact of life, and Remus didn't have it in him to deny it, he figured Regulus would probably hit him if he did. So, he said the next thing that came to mind.
"But... It has to be reciprocated, and Sirius isn't gay..."
At that, Regulus outright laughed in his face, as if Remus wasn't standing before him completely distressed and fighting a complete mental breakdown. Regulus kept chortling for a few seconds before he realized Remus was deadly serious and quickly straightened up, wiping a hand over his mouth to cover his grin.
"Sorry, it's just, we're talking about my brother? The one that wears black nail polish and more jewelry than most girls do? The one who has the fattest crush on that extremely bent muggle musician, Bowtie, or whatever, and has a giant poster of him in his room at home?"
Remus spluttered indignantly, "Bowtie?! His name is Bowie, and he's incredible! Also, Sirius has always liked jewelry and nail polish, he thinks it makes him look cool!"
Regulus raised his eyebrows.
"Sirius has only ever dated girls!" Remus added, nearly shouting it. Of course, he'd wondered about Sirius and dreamed about the day Sirius would look at him the same way he looked at girls, but he had always been into feminine things. Remus assumed it was because of how restricted he was at home, assumed it was some sort of rebellion, an expression of freedom, growing his hair long and painting his nails, proving he wasn't his parents.
Regulus shook his head, "I'm just saying he's not exactly straight, you can date girls and still be in denial, or like both. But the way he looks at you as if you hung the moon? There's not a single girl in Hogwarts he looks at like that."
That night, Regulus and Remus read through the books, reading about the disease and working to identify the flower he'd been coughing up. Turns out, those white petals were trientalis borealis, or starflowers. Regulus had snorted, far less concerned than Remus was about the deadly disease in his lungs, saying, starflowers, Remus? Really? Bit on the nose, isn't it?
The conversation with Regulus only made things worse after, as if the disease was finely attuned to his emotions and thoughts. The mere suggestion that Sirius might not be as straight as he thought, that he might actually be interested in Remus, sent him spiraling and made his throat constrict, clogged with flower petals.
The petals came more frequently now, two or three clumped together at a time, and he often had to duck into bathrooms to expel them secretly. He had sworn Regulus to secrecy, he didn't want Sirius to find out, didn't want a confession born out of desperation to save Remus' life, or anything of the sort. Regulus helped him go through every book about Hanahaki in the library, and they all said the same thing. As the days turned into weeks, Remus got sicker and he wasn't anywhere close to a solution, to choosing one of the awful choices that would result in him losing Sirius.
He'd barely managed to hide it, though his friends questioned him often, Remus did his best to dodge them and skirt around the answers. He locked himself in the bathroom and flushed petal after petal, noticing with some alarm that they were speckled with red drops of blood, his throat and mouth coated in iron after fierce coughing fits. He could hardly make it up the stairs without pausing once or twice, a persistent sharpness stabbed through his chest, only briefly relieved by the coughing and expelling of petals before the feeling flooded back in again. It felt as if his lungs were outgrowing his body, there was no longer enough room for them to expand around the flowers growing there. He often noticed James and Sirius shooting him looks and whispering to each other, which wasn't unusual, except that he could tell it was about him as they quieted every time he got near enough to hear.
Remus dreamed he was lying in a thick pile of bloody flowers. A soft cushion of them, blood caking his mouth, chin, and hands. He was lying on his back, surrounded by the evidence of a love that was killing him, he saw horrible images playing out in the dark skies above him. Remus saw himself as a werewolf, ripping Padfoot and Prongs to shreds, and saw his friends on the ground bloodied and haggard, dying. He heard a voice whisper, It is better to die loving him, coveting the one you'll never have rather than lose the one who made your life something worth it, something beautiful. Even your love for him is violent, everything about you is violent, and your love will either result in your death or his.
Sirius awoke to the sound of someone choking. Half inhales were blocked by something and sharp exhales that sounded painful and forced. He rubbed his eyes, listening as he sat up, trying to piece together what he could be hearing. When the labored breathing devolved into a sort of weak cough, still choked up and thick sounding, Sirius realized it was Remus. There had been something going on with him for weeks, James had told him that he and Regulus had been in the library several nights a week, but Regulus wouldn't tell him why, and he'd heard Remus stifle coughs into his robes more often than not over the last few weeks. He knew it wasn't just the smoking, but no matter how much he'd tried to corner his brother or Remus to talk about it, they wouldn't budge.
Sirius threw his blankets off, padding over to Remus' bed and throwing back the curtains with no preamble. He thought he'd find Remus hunched over in his bed, coughing and hacking before glaring at him angrily and waving him off, insisting he go to bed. What he found instead, was Remus deeply asleep, covered in sweat, eyebrows crinkled and mouth open in a silent scream as he gasped and choked, seemingly unable to breathe.
"Remus? Moony?" Sirius called uncertainly, eyes stuck on Remus' face and heaving chest as he tried to force inhales that repeatedly got stuck in his throat. Fear twisted in Sirius' gut on Remus' next rattling inhale, when his chest stuttered but no exhale came, no choked breath made its way through, he had stopped breathing. Sirius reached out and shook his shoulders hard, panicking, "Wake up, Remus! You gotta wake up right now!"
When Remus' eyes popped open, far away and frightened, still choking, Sirius pulled him upright by the arms, leaning Remus against his shoulder and pounding on his back to clear whatever blockage there was. Sirius could hear it, the air going around it, whistling slightly with every inhale. Remus was draped over his arm, coughing furiously, shoulders shaking with exertion. "Get it out, Moons, it's okay, you’re okay."
Sirius grabbed Remus' wand from the bedside table since it was closest, and shakily cast a lumos so he could see better, white light filling the small four-poster bed. He was horrified when he looked down, dozens of white petals shiny with blood surrounded the pillow and sides of the bed, droplets of red stained the pillow and sheets as well.
"What the hell, Moony?" Sirius pulled back in shock just as Remus let out one last wracking cough, a wet clump of something falling from his lips and landing on the blanket between them. A blooming flower sat there, pearly white with streaks of lavender, speckled with blood but unharmed otherwise. Remus let out a sigh of relief, face white with lack of oxygen, collapsing forward exhaustedly onto Sirius, silent tears dampening his sleep shirt. "W-What's going on? What is this, Remus? We have to take you to the hospital wing."
Remus shook his head against him, mumbling, "No, m'fine now, don't bother."
"Don't bother?!" Sirius said, stunned to his core, sitting in a bed covered in flower petals. He pulled Remus up, scrutinizing his clammy face, noticing the blood reddening his lips dripping down his chin. Sirius wiped it away with his thumb, "Tell me what's going on, now, Remus. You're scaring the shit out of me, and you're telling me not to bother?"
"I know what it is, but it doesn't matter because there's no cure. I didn't want to worry anyone, so I didn't say anything."
Sirius' thumb caught a glistening tear as it fell, swiping it away, at a loss for what to do. Remus looked so defeated, his brown eyes an ocean of fear and resignation, his expression cracked open but his mouth a thin line, keeping everything in. It'd been so long since Remus let him near, he'd been so distant lately, a mere ghost in the common room and their dorm, unreachable. Now, with his Moony right in front of him, Sirius still felt that he was unreachable, even though he was solid under his hands, they were sitting on a bed covered in his secrets, whatever it was that was separating them.
"Is it a curse? Is this what you've been working on with Regulus?"
Remus sighed, tugging his hand off his face, lips brushing Sirius' fingers for less than a second, a ghostly kiss from the fading image of his best friend.
"I'm sick, that's all. It's okay, Pads. Reg has been trying to help, but there isn't anything to be done. Just don't tell the others, alright?"
Remus pulled away from Sirius as he did so often now, as he had been doing all year, ever since Sirius dated and broke up with Mary. Despite Sirius' attempts to get his attention, and to hold his affection, Remus always seemed to slip away from him, he didn't seem to notice Sirius embarrassing himself day after day just to get a laugh out of him. Sometimes he'd lean into Sirius for the briefest of moments, or they'd make eye contact and Sirius would think this is it, he's going to realize it, that I've been right here all along waiting for him.
But Remus never does, always far away in his mind, somewhere Sirius can't reach. Sirius left him in his bed of secrets, dejected and fearful, panic and worry creating a perfect storm in his brain, and he stayed awake all night, listening to Remus struggle to breathe in his sleep, just in case he stopped again.
Sirius caught Regulus right out of the quidditch locker rooms, pinning his brother to the brick wall with his forearm across his chest and his wand pointed at his face. He knew he looked wild, truly mad like a real Black, drained and a tad feral from lack of sleep and spinning out of his mind with worry. Regulus' eyes widened in shock, a harsh exhale of air pushed out of him when he hit the brick, but he recovered quickly, giving Sirius an incredulous look, something carefully guarded behind his eyes.
"What is wrong with Moony and why is he asking you for help?"
"I've sworn not to tell, but he didn't necessarily want me to know either, I simply guessed."
"I don't give a rat's arse what you've sworn, he was choking to death in his sleep last night. He stopped breathing, and none of us would've known if I didn't wake up and help him," Sirius spat, pressing his wand into his brother's neck threateningly, though Regulus did not look afraid, nor did he raise his wand in retaliation. "He said there's no cure, and it sounded like he was dying, so I need you to tell me right the hell now what's going on with my Moony so I can fix it."
Regulus raised an eyebrow, pursing his lips in an attempt not to smile, "Your Moony, eh? I tried to tell the bastard, he just didn't want to listen."
"What are you on about?"
Regulus huffed, bringing a knee up to Sirius' groin sharply and shoving him away as his brother bent over in pain. "Honestly, Sirius, next time try to speak to me like a normal person, there was no need for ridiculous threats. I'll tell you, but only because Remus seems content on dying, and that's just pitifully stupid of him."
Remus skipped class that morning, swinging wildly between unadulterated panic at his impending death, while also freaking out about Sirius' tender hands holding him, wiping his face, and gazing at him with such love and concern that it punched right through him. He couldn't stop thinking about Regulus' words, how he said Sirius never looked at anyone as he looked at Remus, thinking about all the times Sirius would say my Moony, thinking about how Sirius always made his toast just right when he was too exhausted to do it himself around the full moon.
Replaying every moment in his mind, and every moment that fizzled in his veins; locking eyes across the Gryffindor common room during parties while Sirius sang Moonage Daydream, just for him, mouthing the words with the upward curve of his lips. Orange light from the fireplace reflected in his blue-gray eyes the night their friend group played a drunken game of spin the bottle, his teasing, flirty voice saying I hope I get Moony.
Every whispered word on the filthy floor of the shrieking shack, a warm jacket covering his body after the transformation, healing magic refreshing as a spring breeze washing over him to ease the pain. Remus wondered, and he dreamed, and he hoped because Remus didn't want to die. That morning, he coughed up flower after flower, a bloody meadow at his feet, all his dreams come to die in delicate pearly white petals, bright splotches of red and faint lavender lining them. His love was violent and ugly, the proof of it was at his feet, and yet, Remus wondered if Sirius loved him back.
After hours of coughing, Remus finally felt stable enough to leave the dorm, he felt emptied out, like there was nothing left to give up. He spelled his robes clean, splashed cold water on his face, and set out for lunch, hoping to finish the day of classes without any more incidents, desperately needing a distraction from the bloody flowers and his swirling thoughts.
He was just about to turn the corner when he felt someone yank on the back of his robes, tugging him into the nearby broom cupboard and locking the door so swiftly he barely had time to process what was happening before the invisibility cloak was shed and Sirius was standing before him, righteous anger covering his face. Remus felt cold, hands clenching at his sides as he stared back at Sirius, frozen in place. Sirius shoved him with both hands, none too gently, and Remus stumbled back, catching Sirius' eyes and realizing they were glistening with unshed tears.
"You absolute arsehole, Remus Lupin! You complete and utter toerag!" Sirius shoved him again, pushing him until his back hit the door, "How dare you tell me there's no cure? How dare you keep this from me! From everyone!" Unable to push him any further, Sirius hit his chest, tears falling steadily now.
"Padfoot," Remus stammered, thrown by the explosion of emotions and the assault.
"You're horrible, despicable! I hate you for that, I hate-" Sirius' voice broke, his fists sliding off Remus' chest, replaced by his forehead, resting over his heart as he cried.
Remus lifted his hands hesitantly before wrapping his arms around Sirius, sighing despite the pain in his chest, "I reckon Reg told you?"
"I made him. He only told me because he worried you never would, that you'd die instead," Sirius lifted his head to glare at him again.
"There wasn't any point, Sirius, you're not- gay, and I didn't know what to do otherwise, I didn't want to lose you." Remus could feel the need to cough building in his throat, the flowers blooming at a rapid rate, he knew Sirius didn't love him that way. He was angry because Remus loved him horribly and kept it hidden, and Remus understood, he'd be angry too, but he was trying to absolve Sirius for when he died. He told him there was no cure instead of putting the burden on Sirius' shoulders, Sirius, who was always an incredible friend to him, didn't deserve an ounce of guilt for not loving Remus the way he desperately wished.
"But you're- I-" Sirius seemed at a loss for words, still frowning deeply, and any moment now, he would tell Remus he didn't love him like that. Merlin, Remus was going to murder Regulus when he catches him, this is precisely what he hoped to avoid.
The flowers crawled up his throat, blooming until they filled his entire airway, and Remus, exposed and trapped between Sirius and the locked door, let himself slide to the floor with a dry sob, his wobbly knees giving out underneath him as he began to cough deeply. Sirius went with him, gripping his shoulders as they shook, eyes wide with alarm much like they had the previous night, but he only appeared startled for a few seconds before his expression fixed into something determined.
He pushed past Remus' knees until they fell open for him, surging forward to grab Remus' face as he gasped, and pressing their mouths together, open-mouthed and pushing air into his lungs, kissing him fervently like it was the most important thing he'd ever do. The kiss was messy, all blood and salt, something sweet like syrup mingling together. Remus breathed the air he was given, finding it easier than it had been in weeks, and he could feel the flowers shrink, shriveling in his lungs and dying, becoming dust underneath the weight of Sirius' mouth on his.
After a minute, Sirius pulled back, hands still framing his face, analyzing his expression, "Alright? Can you breathe?"
"Yeah, alright," Remus breathed, pushing wisps of curly hair out of Sirius' face, wandering fingers drifting across the high planes of his cheek, down to his mouth, stained a pinkish red from Remus' blood. "I think I'm dreaming, Pads."
Sirius barked a laugh that sent sparks shooting through Remus, pulling their foreheads to rest against each other, "I've loved you for ages, I just wasn't brave enough to show it until I knew you did too. Mary broke up with me, you know? We said it was mutual, but really, she told me that it was stupid of me to date her while I was looking at you, and I was- am always looking at you. I've never been able to look away, you're quite mesmerizing, you know that, Moons?"
Remus had to kiss him again for that, enveloped in the smokiness of him, the peppermint and morning dew of him, like a spring morning.