November 1981 - I miss you more than anything.
Years passed like whispers in the night, and the once-secret love between Remus Lupin and Sirius Black matured into a shared life marked by stolen moments and enduring passion. The 1980s found them living together in a modest muggle home, nestled in a quiet corner of london.
The walls of their home held the echoes of laughter, shared dreams, and the unspoken promise that time had etched into their souls. Remus reveled in the mundane joys of domesticity, while Sirius, ever the spirited rebel, found solace in the ordinary muggle habits woven into their days.
Yet, as the shadows of the past lingered, they were unable to escape the watchful eyes of a society that had only marginally evolved. The whispers of prejudice and ignorance still rustled through the air, threatening the fragile peace they had built.
Though, nobody questioned the two men living together. They were only mates, right?
One fateful night, the tranquility shattered. Sirius was sent to Azkaban. Lily and James were dead. Peter was missing. The abruptness of his departure left Remus reeling, his heart fractured by the sudden void that Sirius's absence carved. The night after Sirius’ departure, Remus saw hell. He laid in the hollow that Sirius had left in the bed, willing him to come home. Why did he have to go with Lilly and James? Why not him?
As he navigated the cold corridors of their now-silent home, every creak of the floorboards echoed the memories of a life once vibrant with love. Remus clung to the remnants of their shared existence, refusing to let the darkness consume the light they had created.
In the lonely hours, Remus composed letters to Sirius, pouring his soul into words that he knew might never reach their intended recipient. He etched memories onto parchment, capturing the warmth of their shared blankets, the taste of morning tea, and the quiet whispers of "I love you" exchanged in the stillness of the night, but most of all, his letters asked “why?”
Why would he do such a horrible thing? Why did he have to go? Did he actually do it? As the case became final, and Sirius was sentenced to life in Azkaban, Remus’ began to doubt Sirius’ innocence. He cried, night after night, believing that the love of his life was a killer, and their baby, Merlin, their baby. What would become of little Harry?
The world outside had never fully embraced their love, and now, as Sirius was trapped in the desolation of Azkaban, Remus grappled with the injustice of a society that failed to see the beauty in their connection.
The years unfolded with relentless cruelty, and as the 1980s bled in a blur, Remus, now aged and wearied by the weight of solitude, clung to the belief that love could transcend the prison walls that held Sirius captive.
In the silence of their home, Remus Lupin stood as a testament to a love that had weathered the storms of prejudice. The echoes of laughter, once vibrant, were now tinged with the ache of separation, and the quiet corners of their shared haven were haunted by the specter of a lost partner.
As the years pressed on, Remus clung to the hope that one day, justice would prevail, and Sirius would be freed from the chains that bound him. Until then, the walls of their home held the echoes of a love that refused to be extinguished, a flame that flickered against the darkness of societal injustice.
He felt helpless. Until Grant.
One day, Grant appeared at the door, and reentered his life. Remus had nearly forgotten his face, his beautiful blonde curls. After he’d arrived, Grant didn’t say anything, merely dropped his bags as Remus crumpled into his arms. They stayed like that on the floor for a while as Remus sobbed into Grant’s sweater. That was when Grant knew that Remus was never his, and never would be, but now, he was here. And he was going to protect Remus.