“I’m liberated. Of age. Disinherited. A rolling stone. No one’s responsibility but my own– least of all barmy prefects.” Sirius paced back and forth. He was speaking in his Proclamatory voice which was always a dangerous sign that an Exclamatory Bluster was forthcoming. Remus had shot down Sirius’ idea to go flying over Black Lake and he was fuming.
“Not if I have anything to say about,” Remus snorted, not really thinking about what he was saying. “The world isn’t ready for a liberated Padfoot.”
“Do you–er, you want me… not to be liberated, then?” Sirius’ voice was oddly garbled but Remus was wrapping up a particularly excellent conclusion sentence for his essay on the superior strength of charms that had combined Greek and Latin roots and it demanded his full attention.
“Er– what–sure, mate. I mean– I reckon the entire wizarding world wants that.”
“Well, alright then,” Sirius said, in that same odd tone. Remus finally looked up and Sirius was staring back, nonplussed.
“Uh– should we? Bugger– I dunno. Shake on it?”
At this point Remus was getting increasingly impatient– his essay was already slow-going and this peculiar conversation wasn’t helping matters.
He held out a hand because it seemed the thing most likely to get Sirius to stop talking and leave him in peace.
…
“Er?”
It was early the next morning. Sirius was sitting on the edge of his bed, with an impatient look on his face. Remus racked his brain– as far as he could remember he hadn’t promised to hand over any of his notes the previous night.
“I’m hungry, Moony.”
Remus blinked sleep out of his eyes and forced down the urge to ask how the fuck that was his problem.
“Are you… you’re waiting for me, then?”
“Well– yeah,” Sirius said, looking at him like he’d sprouted a third eye.
Odd, but endearing. Remus murmured something semi-coherent and made for the shower.
…
“I’m gonna have a fly with Prongsie after classes– if that’s alright?”
It was noon on the following day. Remus looked at him curiously. He couldn’t recall them establishing any specific plans. But it was the only thing that would explain why he was asking for permission.
“Uh– sure,” Remus said, tentatively, looking at James and Peter for further context– maybe there was some prank reconnaissance planned for later that evening that had slipped his mind, but both were utterly absorbed in their lunch.
…
Sirius had taken to carrying his books for him. It wasn’t that he had never done it before– he had certainly offered countless times after the full moons but it was unlike him not to make some crack about how chivalrous and good a mate he was. Now he never did, just looked up at him with a tentative smile when Remus surrendered the heavy tomes, like he couldn’t quite believe his luck.
When Remus stopped at the library to return a few halfway through the week, Sirius accompanied him. Remus had started to replace one volume on an upper shelf, but found himself body-blocked by Sirius who assured him, “Never you worry, Moony,” and stood on tip-toes to do it for him. This was of course rather ridiculous because Sirius was four inches shorter than him and in addition to that, they were both capable of levitation, but Remus nevertheless appreciated the effort.
…
By the time Thursday rolled around Remus was having a thoroughly baffling week. It was the second night in the row Sirius waited for him to wrap up his revising for the night to head up to the dormitory with him. Sirius flopped down on the bed and closed the curtains behind them which Remus felt was a bit presumptuous but found he was too knackered to protest. And then he launched into a recount of all the interesting things that had happened to him over the course of the day which was a bit redundant considering they had all of their classes together. He still made the same wisecracks and depraved innuendos but he also spoke with a surprising amount of earnestness about upsets and little victories, questions he’d answered right and Remus couldn’t help finding it sweet. He humored Sirius because he always humored Sirius, asking him about his favorite part of lessons or what he thought he might write an upcoming essay on.
He was curious what had prompted the change in their relationship but he couldn’t rule out that it was just normal Sirius weirdness. He would’ve asked James and Peter but he didn’t want to feel as if he was going behind Sirius’ back– and besides it wasn’t like he really minded any of the new developments, he just wished someone could explain them to him.
…
By Saturday, things were getting so out of hand that even the girls had started to take notice. As soon as they left for Hogsmeade Sirius linked arms with him and started murmuring a running commentary in his ear about anything and everything, including “Merlin, it was so hot yesterday I thought Padfoot was going into heat. Or is that just for girl dogs? Moony you're a canine you should know this!”, "Now I'm asking honestly. Really give it to me straight. Do you think me and James could take Hagrid 2 v 1?" and “are we low on ink?” Remus meant to ask him why he was suddenly referring to future purchases in terms of “we” rather than “I” but Sirius was talking so rapidly and pausing to breathe so infrequently that he had to concentrate very hard to keep up and pretty soon he forgot all about it.
They’d slipped into such a casual intimacy that when Sirius rose to get drinks for the table at The Three Broomsticks, Remus murmured, “Get us a butterbeer, love?” the term of endearment slipping out before he could stop it. Marlene eyed him curiously, and Lily even broke off in the middle of administering her Weekly Rebuff of Potter’s Advances to look at him. Remus tried to laugh awkwardly like he’d meant it as a joke. But Sirius just smiled fondly and carried on towards the bar humming. It was all so bloody weird .
…
“Um,” Remus tried again. The last three attempts he’d made at speech had come out much the same, but really how was he supposed to react when Sirius’ hands had asserted themselves so firmly on his arse and squeezed?
“Should I not have done that? Sorry. Should’ve asked. Bugger. Maybe you’re not, like– with the whole physical affection thing. But I want you to know Moony, I am completely comfortable with you doing that to me. As much as you want. Whenever the urge occurs, really.”
“I’m— and why would that urge occur?” Remus asked, feeling quite a bit ridiculous because actually the urge occurred quite often but Sirius wasn’t supposed to know that.
“You coy bastard,” Sirius said, crawling in a rather seductive manner up the bed to him.
By now, Remus had learned that the best way to deal with bizarre happenings with the group of friends he had was to just go with it and trust he’d find out later. And it wasn’t like he was particularly displeased with the turn of events, he thought, as he opened his arms for Sirius. They kissed for a very long time.
…
When Remus woke the next morning, the side of his bed that had as of late become Sirius’ side was empty and rumpled. Judging from the quality of the light filtering into the room it was still very early. Through the gap in his curtains he could make out Peter’s form slumbering on soundly in his bed and no sign of either James or Sirius which meant that something Very Athletic was happening that he need not concern himself with and he could go back to sleep. He smiled to himself and rolled over until he felt something under his back and reached to uncover it. It was a bar of Honeyduke’s finest, a note secured to the wrapper with a sticking charm.
Early morning Quidditch. Try not to despair too much in my absence,
Yours in De-liberation,
-S