Thirteen
6th November 1976
Are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these?
And let all your damage damage me?
And carry your baggage up my street?
And make me your future history?
Remus
Sirius’s birthdays had always been difficult, they’d learned that early on. Their first year no one knew why Sirius was in a mood the entire day until James pulled him into his bed and weaselled it out of him, he’d told Remus and Peter that night and the three of them planned what would be Sirius’s first birthday party. Sirius cried, tried not to let it show, but Remus had seen. From then on they always planned the biggest parties for Sirius, always made his birthday a big deal and almost treated it like a holiday.
‘I just- it made me feel loved, really loved for the first time in my life. I finally felt like I might actually be worth loving,’ Sirius had whispered one night he slept in Remus’s bed, foreheads pressed together and legs tangled.
‘You are worth loving Padfoot, you’re worth so much more than what they’ve done to you,’ a part of Remus was screaming at him to say the words, those three simple words they’d all said a thousand times and yet, he couldn’t say them in the way it mattered. Not then, and certainly not now.
The party was in full swing when Remus finally joined them, loud rancorous laughter floated up the steps to the boys dormitory alerting anyone who might’ve somehow not been aware of the party that night that there was in fact something going on. Everyone was in a celebratory mood, Gryffindor had won the first game of the season against Slytherin just that morning so the already planned celebration was up from a level five to a level ten, something he knew Sirius would be elated by. Remus had been hiding in the dormitory for as long as he felt he’d be allowed to, not entirely in a partying mood.
Things with Sirius had been in a strange place, one he wasn’t sure how to navigate. The cold detachment he’d managed to form, despite his own emotions, had completely shattered following the Halloween party the previous weekend and he still wasn’t sure where he stood. He’d had an attack of sorts when he saw Mary’s fake moon, his lungs had failed him and his heart pounded heavily in his chest, Sirius had been the one to pull him out of it.
‘Moons? It’s okay, it isn’t real, you’re safe. I’m here Remus, and so are you. Breathe for me love, okay?’ He’d whispered the words, rubbing soothing circles onto his back until Remus managed to come back to himself and his breathing evened out. Since then things between the two had taken on a different kind of strain.
Tonight would be different however, he knew he wouldn’t be able to act like anything was amiss between the two, especially not when Sirius deserved to enjoy himself. His actual birthday had been rough, they always were, but there had been a gift from a mystery person that Remus had strong suspicions was Regulus, despite James’s refusal to say anything about where he’d gotten the package from. Regardless, the leather jacket had brightened Sirius’s mood considerably, it being something he’d always wanted but hadn’t said too much about. Since then he’d worn it every day, much to McGonagall’s chagrin and despite her constant chastisement and deduction of house points.
So now here he was, trying to float through the party without being noticed by anyone, hoping desperately to get through the night unscathed. He’d managed to miss a decent amount of the start of the celebration by hiding in the dormitory upstairs, claiming he’d had to finish up his train of thought before he lost it, though he could tell from the disheartened look that graced his face that Sirius hadn’t believed his excuse. Though, he didn’t seem to notice much now, not with a crowd to entertain with his drunken antics.
Remus watched from across the common room, a half-smile unknowingly tugged at his lips as Sirius told the gathered onlookers about their latest pranking success against Slytherin. He and James had snuck down to the Slytherin common room that night during dinner and from the report he’d gotten from both boys upon their return, he could tell their prank had gone well. According to them they’d managed to put every piece of furniture on the ceiling with a particularly tricky sticking charm save the pieces in the girls’ dorms as wards in the castle prevented them from entering them. James and Sirius had both looked like the cat that ate the canary when they hurried into their dormitory after finishing their task and both got impossibly wider smiles when Peter and Remus had relayed their own success to them.
Remus found himself shaking his head fondly as he watched Sirius tell everyone who would listen about it, waving his hands about in a manner that was exclusively reserved for when he was particularly drunk. He knew tomorrow morning would bring headaches and upset stomachs for them all, but that knowledge still didn’t stop Remus from grabbing a particularly full tumbler of firewhiskey off a nearby floating tray. He’d deal with his consequences later, but tonight he needed the calm the amber liquid would bring him as it burned through his system.
He meandered through the crowd of excited Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, talking with different students he recognized from classes or his study group, all of them congratulating him on his best friend’s success on the quidditch pitch that day. He smiled and laughed, talking and listening when appropriate, trying his absolute best to blend in with those around him despite standing a full head taller than almost all of them. All he had to do was get through this party unscathed and then he could go back to some modicum of normalcy until their winter holidays. Of course, naturally, fate always seemed to have other plans in store for the Gryffindor.
“Remus!” He turned at the sound of his name to find Dirk Cresswell pushing through a group of students to get over to him.
“Dirk,” he nodded in acknowledgement. Dirk Cresswell was a fifth year Ravenclaw in Remus’s study group, he was decently talented, reasonably smart, and if Remus hadn’t already been in love with Sirius for the last few years he would’ve probably found the boy extremely attractive. As it stood however, he had been in love with Sirius and unfortunately for him he simply couldn’t bring himself to look elsewhere.
“How are ya? Haven’t seen you in the study group lately,” he inquired, taking a measured sip of his butterbeer.
“Fine, just been busy is all,” he answered politely, though not entirely wanting to have this conversation if he were honest.
“S’alright, I understand,” he offered a beaming smile that Remus had seen work on a few of the Hufflepuff girls in the past. “Missed you though. I’ve been reading a new book lately and wanted your thoughts on it.”
“Oh? What book?” He was mildly more interested in the conversation now.
“It’s called The Picture of Dorian Gray, it’s a muggle book so you might not have heard of it.”
“I have actually, Lily lent me her copy last year. How far have you gotten?”
“I’m almost to the end, just finished chapter nineteen last night. What did you think of it?” He was excited now, always having been one to love an intellectual conversation over a meaningless one.
“I thought it was a really good commentary on the corruption that exists within our society, Wilde really was so much ahead of his time.” Remus hedged on the safer side of the topics within the book, not knowing where Dirk would stand if he brought up the obvious romantic subtext.
“I agree! I thought the relationship between Dorian and Basil was probably the most interesting one so far. Basil was so in love with him that he made him effectively immortal and Dorian not only wasted it but he killed him.” His eyes lit up when he spoke so passionately, Remus had seen it a few times now and each time the sparks of gold within his brown eyes reminded him of the fact that Dirk would be a perfectly fine choice if he could somehow manage to put down the torch he’d been carrying for Sirius.
“Basil loved him, but Dorian couldn’t love Basil the same, especially not when concerned so much with his own vanity,” this was easy, calm, something he was used to doing on any given day and a welcome distraction from Sirius across the room.
“He might’ve had he not been corrupted though,” Dirk mused thoughtfully.
“Do you think so? I always saw it as an unrequited love, that’s what made it all the more tragic. Dorian was so in love with himself and others' opinions of him, he couldn’t allow their thoughts to be swayed by behaviour and feelings that were so impure for the time,” he definitely wasn’t thinking about how the things he said could so easily apply to his own life.
“Hmm, you might be right. Would you like to discuss it more once I’m finished with it? I’d love to hear more of your thoughts, especially on the ending,” his eyes sparkled with something he couldn’t quite place as his hand landed on Remus’s arm. He gave the other boy a genuine smile, excited to be able to talk about his books with someone other than Lily for a change.
“He’ll probably be busy, Remus doesn’t like to have much free time, he’s so hard to pin down,” he’d been so enthralled in the conversation with Dirk that he hadn’t noticed Sirius making his way over to them. The black haired boy sidled up next to him, barely a few centimetres between them and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Speaking of, Remus, might I have a word? I didn’t get to speak with you before the party started.”
“Oh, uh, sure Sirius.” He couldn’t even hide his shock. “Dirk, I’ll catch you later, yeah? I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the ending.” It was all he had time to say before Sirius steered him by the arm he had still wrapped around his shoulders towards the boy’s dormitory. Neither of them spoke again until they were safely sequestered in the room they shared with their friends, both other boys occupied at the party leaving them to have a rare moment alone.
“What was that about?” Remus didn’t miss the barely concealed venom in Sirius’s voice as he rounded on him.
“What was what about, Sirius?” He was tired, exhausted even, down to his very soul. This song and dance they’d done what felt like a million times never ended well.
“Don’t play stupid with me Remus, we both know you’re too smart not to see when someone fancies you.” He scoffed, the derision towards the other boy clear in his voice. “‘Oh, Remus please discuss this book with me, I’m dying for your attention and you’re such a smarty pants swot that I only know one way to get into your pants,’ please, it’s pathetic.”
“That’s rich coming from you. ‘Oh, I’m Sirius fucking Black and I can’t find anywhere in this great big castle to shag my newest conquest other than the broom cupboard on Remus’s route. Couldn’t possibly think to lock the damn door,’ give me a break.” He sneered in return, unable to hold back his ire any longer.
“That’s what this is about? You’re getting back at me for what happened with Emmeline at my fucking birthday party?”
“Or maybe Sirius, you could try to imagine that not everything is about you all the time! Not every thought that passes through my head goes through a filter of what the great and wonderful Sirius Black might think of my actions,” he was lying, but Sirius didn’t need to know that. “And so what if he does fancy me? What could it possibly matter to you of all people who I see or shag or discuss bloody literature with?” He was yelling now, and not that he cared but the party would drown out the sound, no one but the two boys standing practically nose to nose would know what was happening just feet above the joyous chatter and laughter.
“Me of all people? You’re rich,” he barked out a laugh, the sneer still present on his face.
“Yes Sirius, you of all bloody people. What could you care about what I do and who I do it with?” He was pushing him, goading him to answer, sick of the games, and the alcohol flowing through his veins only emboldened him. “I could shag half the school, like you seem very intent on doing, and it wouldn’t be any of your bloody business!”
“And whose fault is that?” He bit back, inching even closer. Remus jerked back like he’d been slapped, and he may as well have been for how much Sirius’s words had shocked him.
“Yours, Sirius. It’s all your fault,” the heat was gone from his own voice, in its place sat only the sadness he’d not allowed himself to feel. There it was, the truth, his truth at least. Everything that had happened, everything that they were or weren’t, was all Sirius’s fault.
“If you’re going to place blame on me for anything, do it for something worthwhile,” his words were barely above a whisper and Remus hardly had time to process them before Sirius’s lips crashed into his own. The shock overwhelmed him, propelling him half a step backward and out of Sirius’s grasp. He only had enough time to register the shocked and dejected look on Sirius’s face before his hands cupped the other boy’s face and pulled him back in for another, more heated kiss.
The kiss was just as fierce, every bit as passionate, as the argument they’d just been engaging in. Tongues and teeth clashed, neither letting the other away for even a moment of air until Remus’s head was spinning, from the kiss itself or the lack of oxygen he wasn’t sure. He poured everything into it, into Sirius. The anger he’d been barely holding in, the months of barely any contact, the unspoken words, and every ounce of want for the other boy that he’d never allowed himself to dwell on for more than a moment. It was everything and he could’ve lived in it, in Sirius’s arms that had wrapped around his torso, for the rest of his life and never once thought to raise a complaint.
Everything grew with intensity from there and before he knew it he and Sirius had fallen into a bed, whose he wasn’t entirely certain and in that moment he didn’t care. It was frenzied and passionate and heated and everything he had always dreamed of but never dared hope for, it was perfect and messy and entirely theirs. Hungry hands pawed at clothes, practically ripping them from one another in their haste to get as close as humanly possible– to finally intertwine their souls, their very beings, that Remus always craved in his heart despite his mind telling him it could never be.
In the aftermath, once their breathing regulated and sweat dried on their bare skin, Remus’s mind finally came back to him and every thought that swam around his head felt as though it were drowning him. There was so much left unsaid between the two, so many things Remus had never thought he might get the chance to voice that all clamoured to escape his throat that they all died there, waiting and wanting to be voiced. He looked at the beautiful human being he lay pressed against in the too-small bed, feeling a rush of every emotion he’d ever felt for him bursting in his chest all at once. The want, the need, the desire, the anger, the resentment and the uncertainty all overlapped and caused his heart to beat so hard it threatened to break his ribs.
He fought to find the right words to say, the right way to voice the thoughts he never imagined might leave his own head. Was this a mistake? Another one of Sirius Black’s famed conquests caught in the heat of the moment? Or did it mean more? Did it mean to Sirius what it meant to him? Was this everything he had hoped and dreamed of too?
“Padfoot, are you up here?” Peter’s voice cut through his thoughts and sliced the words from his throat like a well-placed slicing hex, propelling both boys into motion in an instant. Before he had much time to process what he was doing or where he was going, Remus had scooped up an armful of clothes and hurried himself into the bathroom connected to their dorm, ear pressed to the crack left in the door as Peter entered the room he’d just vacated. “Oh, there you are. It’s time for cake!” He paused for a moment, likely taking in the scene in front of him. “What are you doing on James’s bed?”
“Oh, I was just changing and fell over, tight jeans,” he was flustered, that much was obvious from the way he spoke. Remus hurried himself to get dressed while the two on the other side of the door sat in an almost awkward silence.
“Right, well, are you coming for the cake?” Remus couldn’t tell from where he was behind the door if Peter bought the obvious lie or was just trying to ease whatever tension had fallen over them.
“I’ll be right down Pete, give me a couple minutes?”
“Alright.” Remus could hear his feet shuffling across the floor as he moved towards the stairs. “Haven’t seen Remus have you? Can’t find him either.”
“He’s just in the bathroom, we’ll both be down in a bit,” Sirius answered nonchalantly, enough so that if he hadn’t been there for their activities himself Remus might’ve believed that nothing had happened.
“Alright, but if you two aren’t down in five minutes I’m cutting the cake without you,” Peter called back as he scurried down the steps and back to the party.
“Remus?” Sirius called out, he could hear the other boy’s steps across the floorboards as he neared Remus’s impromptu hiding spot. He pushed the door open, their eyes finally meeting for the first time since the spell over them had been broken.
“I’ll just head down now,” he brushed past Sirius, not wanting to face what he’d done so soon.
“Remus-”
“I’ll see you downstairs, yeah? I know how much you love your birthday cake.” He ignored the hand Sirius had extended in his direction, fighting the urge to stay there when he saw the war behind the beautiful blue eyes he loved so much, he couldn’t have lived with himself if he stayed to see it blossom into regret. “Don’t take too long, I think Pete was serious about starting without you.”
As he descended the steps in a rush, he fought the burning behind his eyes and forced himself to not replay every moment they shared in that room together. He refused to believe the words Sirius had whispered to him as they’d- done what they did. He winced even at his own thoughts. What had he been thinking? That was his best friend, Sirius bloody Black of all people, and they’d just… No, they hadn’t done anything, at least not in Sirius’s mind and not in his either as far as he was concerned. He grabbed a fresh glass of firewhiskey and downed it in one gulp, determined to drive away the confusion and warring thoughts in his own mind.
“There’s the man of the hour!” He heard James call out, knowing that meant that the object of all his thoughts, desires, dreams and fantasies had finally returned to the party. He winced, not being able to face him at that moment but knowing he had to be close enough to the others in order to appear as though nothing were wrong. Another glass of firewhiskey made its way into his hand and he downed that one too before reaching for another. If the alcohol would help him get through the rest of the night he would write Ogden’s into his will as a recipient of a reasonably sized donation in his honour for the assistance.
He barely registered the gathered group singing happy birthday to Sirius until the song was more than halfway through and joined on the last chorus out of guilt and obligation. He stood there, watching as the cake was cut, eyes barely moving from the hands doing the cutting. The same hands that had just been wrapped tightly in his hair as they- no, he wouldn’t think of that right then and maybe never again if he could keep his faculties about him. When the excitement and crowd dissipated, Remus found himself wandering back into the gathered partygoers and trying desperately to get lost amongst them, fearing that Sirius would seek him out the first chance he got and not wanting to have that conversation just yet. Maybe not ever if he could really help it.
Remus didn’t think he’d be able to stand seeing regret in Sirius’s eyes. Knew he couldn’t handle hearing the boy he’d loved for so many years tell him he hadn’t meant to and that they shouldn’t have done it. No, he would just have to spend the rest of his life avoiding ever being alone with Sirius again, it was the mature thing to do after all.
The next morning he woke up before anyone other than James and made his way to the library, not wanting to risk Sirius waking up before Peter and giving him that look he wouldn’t survive. His body ached, the full moon would rise that night and it was already wearing on him now. His activities with Sirius the night before certainly weren’t helping matters and every part of him wished he could just spend the day warm in his bed, not needing to move a muscle. As it stood however, he had to avoid anywhere he could be cornered alone, and on a Sunday at that.
When he’d wasted as much time as he could avoiding breakfast, he gingerly made his way down the steps, cursing every last one of them for their existence. His stomach churned as he pushed open the doors of the Great Hall and made his way down the Gryffindor table to where the Marauders usually ate together. He felt Sirius’s eyes on him as he made his way to his seat and sat, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t bring himself to meet them.
“Where you been, Moony?” James asked as he started making his tea.
“Library,” was all he bothered to answer, giving James the briefest smile as he readied his toast.
“Today?” Anyone else would’ve thought James was asking because it was Sunday, Remus knew he meant the moon.
“Couldn’t sleep anyways,” he shrugs, trying to feign nonchalance but when the motion causes him to wince in pain, he knows he’s lost that battle.
“Right, well why don’t you spend the day in bed and we’ll bring you lunch and dinner, yeah?” James offers reasonably, with a shrug to show just how simple this sounds to his own ears, not knowing why that simply isn’t an option for Remus.
“Nah, that’s okay,” he feigns indifference, an emotion he couldn’t possibly feel in that moment.
“You can lay in bed for one day Remus,” Sirius tries, a nudge to his foot under the table just trying to get him to meet his eyes. Remus just looks at the table.
“I’ll be in the library,” he said abruptly and stood. “See you lot later.”
He practically ran from the Great Hall after that, though if he’s really being honest he wasn’t physically capable of running and it was more a quick shuffle. The library was empty, why wouldn’t it be on a Sunday during breakfast? Madame Pince arched a brow in question but said nothing as he ambled over to his preferred table in the corner. He would wait the day out from this chair, avoiding everyone as much as he could.
“Remus?” Well, that lasted all of about five minutes. He didn’t need to look up, couldn’t look up, not knowing what he would find if he did.
“Sirius don’t,” he pleads without meeting his eyes, he’s found a spot on the nearest bookshelf to stare at. A knot in the wood, swirls that show the rings of what used to be a tree. He wonders if magic could’ve gotten them out or if they were as ingrained in them as loving Sirius was in him.
“Can you just look at me, please?” He hears the desperation in his voice, and when he hears it crack on the final word his eyes reflexively snap to the other boy. And oh. That look is far worse than any one Remus could’ve conjured up in his own mind. Neither says anything for a while, just silently staring at one another as if all of the answers lie in their locked gaze. And maybe if Remus knew legilimency he would have them all, not that he’d ever do that to Sirius after his mother’s use of it at home. Did Sirius know occlumency? He’d never really said.
“What do you-” he can’t finish his question, too afraid of the answer.
“To talk, I want to talk,” there’s a flicker of something Remus can’t discern that goes across his face. When did he stop knowing every one of Sirius’s emotions? When did he become the one it feels like knows him the least?
“About?” Is it cowardly to pretend he doesn’t know what Sirius is talking about? Probably, but he’s too emotional to care.
“Last night,” even Sirius can’t say what they’ve done in the light of day, though Remus suspects it’s probably for an entirely different reason. “The timing wasn’t really the best.”
“The- the timing?” He blinked owlishly at the boy standing over him, the perfect picture of everything Remus had ever dreamed of himself come to life in front of him and he wants to talk about the timing? As if that’s the most ludicrous part of what they’d done?
“Yes, the timing was bad,” not for the first time, Sirius doesn’t seem to have the right words to say to Remus, that seems to have been happening a lot as of late.
“Right,” what else was he supposed to say? How do you have the right words when the love of your life is talking about the poor timing of your quick shag in the dark?
“I just mean with everything that’s going on and all,” Sirius had the consideration to wince at his own words as if it finally dawned on him how bad this all must really sound.
“I’m just going to go take a bath then,” he hurriedly gets up, at first looking for his things and then remembering that it’s Sunday and he didn’t bother to bring anything with him.
The rest of his day was agonising, his time spent in the hot water of the prefect’s bath helped some with the ache in his bones, though the one in his soul wasn’t touched even by the charmed bath potions. He made it through his day, somehow, though later he would admit that he didn’t remember much of it, functioning entirely on normalcy and necessity until it was time to make his way beneath the willow tree. He hated that part, the march of death in so many ways he couldn’t begin to count them.
The death of his normalcy as a child. The deaths that would fall on his head as he got older and lost more control. The death of the relationship he never got to have. Because even if Sirius didn’t care about that, which he doubted he did, Remus still did. He cared about the risk he posed to his three friends every month. Cared about the way it would affect any kind of relationship or career he might ever wish to pursue. Cared so much he’d lock himself away in Azkaban if it meant everyone he loved got to be safe and happy, even if it meant they needed protection from him.
McGonagall walked him to the room as she always did, gave him a motherly pat to his cheek and a small, worn smile, before walking through the door and sealing him in. Now all there was was to wait. Wait for his friends to come, even though they shouldn’t. Wait for the moon to rise and his bones to snap and his soul to shred just a little bit more. The waiting was the worst part, the waiting and the dreading and the pain.
It wasn’t long before he heard the telltale sounds of the boys taking the wards on the door down, they never liked him to be there alone for long. He wasn’t sure why, but he was shocked to see Sirius standing there with James and Peter. He should’ve known that nothing short of a demand from Remus would keep him away on a moon night.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” James asked carefully, only slightly wincing at his own words and how stupid of a question it was.
“Just like every other month,” Remus went for a joke, a safe option.
“That’s what my sister always says,” Peter grumbled causing a laugh to ring through the room momentarily as they all find the smallest bit of joy they could in the moment.
“I think it’s a bit different Pete,” Sirius replied after a lull in the group. No one says anything to that. And no one speaks again until the moon begins to rise.
“You all should transform now,” Remus barely managed to get out as his bones began to snap. The pain was unlike anything he thought a person should survive, your bones all breaking and reshaping within a matter of minutes.
His mind always goes quickly when he transforms, he’s always assumed it was the mental anguish of the physical pain, another sign he might go insane before he ever crested thirty. There are things he’s always remembered in those first moments, though they got much happier when his three friends joined him. The antlers on Prongs, the large whiskers on Wormtail. And Padfoot? Padfoot was Moony’s favourite.
A large black dog with the most enchanting eyes, a tail like a whip and claws that almost rivalled his own. Yes, Moony loved Padfoot. Usually. Tonight however? Well, Moony wasn’t so happy to see Padfoot this time, and the Remus that floated around in the outskirts of his mind was terrified at what that might mean.