The Moon Is High
Thursday, November 6th, approx. 3am
Sirius wakes up with, as predicted, a pounding headache. The sunlight hasn’t reached the horizon yet, the room lit up mostly by moonlight, so he figures no one else in the house is awake. According to the clock by his bed, it is around 3 in the morning.
He gets up, with plans to go to the kitchen for a tylenol and something to help him sleep. Whenever he slept drunk, the memories, the worst ones, seemed to come back stronger and manifest themselves as nightmares. It was worse in school, when he had the tendency to sometimes wake up screaming after a night partying, sometimes with a girl in his bed. Those mornings of explanations were fun.
The thing about Sirius’ flat is that it is relatively small. It was on the second level of a nice building, and had 2 bedrooms, one bathroom, a small parlour/living room, and a kitchen. One bedroom was for James and him, and the other was a guest bedroom, the one that Remus was sleeping in.
He hadn’t had time to worry about the state of any of the rooms when he got home, having crashed on his bed almost instantly, but now, he really had the time to wonder. It was always a guess as to what state it was in. There was an 80% chance it was somewhat messy, 5% chance it was super messy, and about a 15% chance it was spotless.
That was the thing about growing up in a spotless household- you want to rebel against it, and you do, a lot of the time. Then one night, you wake up in a cold sweat, there’s a new moon, and you go into a cleaning frenzy for a reason you don’t really know. Sirius can’t distinctly remember much at the moment, his brain too fuzzy, so he hopes the latter had happened recently.
He first searches the bathroom cabinets for the medecin, and upon finding none, makes his way into the kitchen. The medicine cabinet there doesn’t have much, but it has to have something if it wasn’t in the bathroom, so there he went. He is also absolutely parched, and needs a glass of water, so it’s a two for one.
The kitchen is lit up by moonlight, a stark contrast to the darkness of the dark hallways and rooms Sirius has previously encountered. It’s clearly a full moon tonight, so the moonbeams could pass as almost natural light, if it wasn’t for the silvery film that they coat everything in.
As soon as his eyes properly adjust, there is something very noticeable leaning against the sink- Remus. Remus, in a tank top (where did he get that from?), leaning against the sink with a faraway look in his eyes, and a glass of water in his hand.
Sirius drinks the image in for a few moments, because he truly is beautiful. Beautiful in the way the sun shone through summer trees was beautiful, the way that waterfalls crashed into water was beautiful, the way that the moon was beautiful. His tan skin almost seemed to glow under the moonlight, and his scars almost shone a pearly white against it.
Sirius never understood how people could be breathtaking until Remus.
Something stepped on a branch outside, breaking the moment of tranquillity Sirius was granted and bringing him back to his senses.
“Remus! Hey, hi, sorry, just looking for the tylenol,” Sirius says, a bit awkwardly, as he saunters into the kitchen, spooking Remus.
“Sirius!” A surprised Remus greets, and starts to apologise immediantly. “Sorry about the shirt- it’s yours, James said it was ok, and I figured-”
“He was right,” Sirius quickly says, accidentally interrupting Remus in the process. James is usually right when it comes to him, and Sirius would’ve given it free anyway. “You can have it if you want, it looks good on you.”
Remus looks at him oddly, then down at himself, before muttering a small “thanks.”
“It’s no biggie,” Sirius smiles, and finds the little bottle. “Getting water?”
“Yeah. I couldn’t sleep,” Remus says, offering no more explanation.
“Ah. I had a pounding headache. Funny, it’s mostly gone now, but…” Sirius shrugs, and pops the pills into his mouth, following it with a small glass of water.
“That’s good. It’s probably just the, you know, 7 million or so shots you took,” Remus laughs. Sirius wishes he was facing the window- it’d be easier to see him if he was.
“Only thanks to you,” Sirius says, remembering how he snuck the shots to him, and bumps into him. His arm brushes Remus’, and he can feel the texture of the long and short scars criss crossing his arms when he does.
“You’re welcome. Those were free shots,” Remus reminds him, ignoring the feeling of Sirius so close.
“Only two though, right? I wouldn’t be surprised if you won more, and my memory is hazy, but I’m 90% sure I won at least one and the other lawyer only won one, too,” Sirius says, trying to remember clearly. Remus shakes his head.
“Someone paid the entire tab,” Remus says. “Did you forget that?”
“Really?” Sirius asks, making Remus chuckle. “Who? They didn’t pay mine.”
“Rosmerta didn’t say. Said it wasn’t her business, or something like that.”
“So clearly someone who hates me and wants me to go bankrupt, but loves the rest of you, and is also rich. Got it.”
“Don’t blame me for their actions,” Remus laughs.
“They probably just forgot me. Miscounted, although I’m extremely unforgettable.”
“Agreed. I couldn’t easily forget you if I saw you in a bar,” Remus replies scornfully, as if he’s judging anyone who could forget Sirius, making Sirius go a bit red, as if it wasn’t what he just suggested. He hopes the moonlight hides it well enough.
“Same to you,” Sirius says. “I’m going to get another drink of water. Seems like this is a thirsty night.”
“I wasn’t really thirsty,” Remus admits, as Sirius is turned around towards the sink, facing the window above it.
“Then why’d you get water?”
Remus stays quiet, but turns to face the moon with Sirius. It shines high and bright above them, casting faint shadows in the scenery surrounding the flat. Sirius hasn’t ever gotten the chance to see the view from his flat on a night like tonight, and he appreciates it so much more because of that. The view all around is pretty amazing, including the one next to him. Sirius is so preoccupied looking at him, he doesn’t even realise his water slipping out of his grip, tilting away from the edge and eventually onto Remus.
“Shit, sorry-” Sirius says, grabbing a small hand-towel from a nearby drawer, and dabbing it where the water hit, right on his toned torso. Remus just laughs, and shrugs, nudging Sirius’ hands away. Sirius obliges, because of course he does, and Remus just pulls the shirt over his head, using it to dab away any water left on his skin. Sirius’ brain kind of just sputters out and dies, like a car would, seeing Remus.
“What’s the matter?” Remus asks, confused for a second, before he remembers. Looking down, Remus seems to almost shrink in on himself, crossing his arms like he’s avoiding hugging a family member but that family member is himself, and slouching over and away from the moonlight.
“It’s not that,” Sirius corrects hurriedly, determined to not be the jerk who makes Remus feel bad. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”
“With all the scars?”
“No- all of it, the shirt, you shirtless, everything. I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but you’re so beautiful it almost hurts, did you know?”
“Haha, Sirius.”
“I’m not joking, honestly. As soon as I saw you, that was my first thought,” Sirius argues, determined to let Remus know he isn’t joking, or lying to make him feel better. “And now, in the moonlight, everything, including the scars, look beautiful. Including you.”
Remus stays quiet for a few moments, slightly biting his bottom lip in thought.
“It wasn’t like this at all when it happened,” Remus eventually whispers softly, the words drifting into smoke as soon as they leave his lips. Sirius guesses he means the moonlight, straying away from the topic of his beauty. Sirius also guesses “it” is whatever caused the scars. He listens carefully, not wanting to disturb whatever emotion Remus is working through to talk about it.
“Remember what I told you about my dad?”
“That he was a drinker, or that he was in criminal law?” Sirius asks, glad to know the answer. He remembers a lot about Remus, even if his brain is foggy right now. Remus stands out in that fog, like a particularly powerful beacon.
“Both, I guess. He was the prosecutor- the one who tries to get them in jail,” Remus says. “Naturally, this made him a lot of enemies.”
Sirius nods along, letting Remus speak more.
“Well, he came back one night, drunk, right? And he went straight to bed. I didn’t. I couldn’t sleep that night. As I said- it wasn’t like tonight. The moon was gone, making it totally dark out. If I went to turn off the night, my bedroom was completely dark, and it terrified me.”
“So he was passed out in the other room, while you were scared?” Sirius says, wanting to have a talk with Remus’ dad. Maybe escalate the talk to a fight. Give him scars of his own.
“That makes him sound worse than he was. He wasn’t a bad father- not at all. He had his good days, too. That night just wasn’t, and what happened didn’t help, either.”
Sirius still wants to fight Remus’ dad, but a bit less now. He wishes his own parents had “good” days. Maybe they could’ve, if he’d had them too, but who knows now? He keeps his silence on his own complicated history, letting Remus continue.
“So it’s dark, my dad’s asleep, and my mum isn’t home. Then all of a sudden, there’s this figure at the door. I can barely tell he’s there, because it was so dark outside. We lived in the countryside, so there weren’t any lights, so I could hardly see the outline of him, against the window reflecting my room. And I can sense him, too, which is pretty fucking scary for a 5 year old.” Remus takes a deep breath, shuddering a bit, his exposed body now probably cold.
“He got in. I don’t remember the specifics of it, because the next time I woke up, I was in the hospital, with my mum crying over me. She was so scared, and my dad was still asleep. Of course, I turned out fine, but according to my mum his knife was very scary. I had a total of 77 from him, some that have faded, others…” Remus gestures to the main scar on his face, and the large gash across his stomach that Sirius is only just seeing. There are a few others on his arms he vaguely points to, but Sirius gets the idea.
Sirius is speechless for a few seconds. “That’s…so incredibly messed up. I’m so sorry.”
Remus shrugs. “I was five, so I guess I’m used to this now. People used to stare a lot, and they still do, but it was worse when they were fresh. My mum says I used to claw at them, to try and get them off, and that’s part of why this big one on my face is so pronounced.”
The extra detail almost makes Sirius nauseous, and renders him unable to respond. For one of the first times in his life, he has no idea what to say.
“Sorry,” Remus says, as the moon passes behind a cloud and the room is shrouded in a bit more shadow. “I don’t think I should’ve told you that.”
“I don’t mind hearing,” Sirius says. “I mean- obviously, I mind that it happened, but thank you for telling me. I really am sorry, too.”
Remus chuckles drily to himself, shaking his head, a bit surprised he was able to tell someone. “Anything you need to get off your chest while we’re at it?” He asks, trying to lighten what he thinks is tension.
Sirius thinks it over.
“I mean, my parents were pretty shit, if that’s what you mean. Most of my own scars are from them.”
“I’m sorry,” Remus says sincerely. Sirius shrugs.
“I’ve come to terms with it now, largely thanks to the Potters. You already know I ran away to live with them, and that they were shit, but…there are things I haven’t even told James about them.”
There’s only one person in the entire world Sirius could tell those things too.
“That’s fair,” Remus says, which surprises Sirius for a second. He thought Remus would ask what they were, or try to get him to open up, but then again that’s not Remus’ style. “I mean, we all have our secrets. It’s only fair to keep some of them. I mean, you’re the first person I told that too.”
“Really?”
“Truly. I didn’t have many friends, or any good ones, until Alice. I don’t even think I told my mum he was drunk that night. She probably knows, though. She has to. And he regrets it- he told me, once, that getting drunk that night was his biggest regret.”
“Is he sober now, then?” Sirius asks, and as he does, he knows the answer is no.
“He wasn’t even sober when he told me that. I think it was one of those ‘drunk words are sober thoughts’ type situations. But no, not really,” Remus answers honestly. Sirius nods understandingly. His Uncle Alphard, the one who had died and left him the money for the flat, was a drinker, too. Sirius is 100% sure that’s how he died, even if everyone else says it was just something natural in his sleep.
“I think I’m going to head to bed, now,” Remus says with an exaggerated yawn, and the moments of silence between them stretch further and further. “Thanks for letting me get this off my chest and all. I’m sorry for telling you, too, and I expect I’ll regret it in the morning, but not yet.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius says, putting his cup in the sink. “I don’t regret asking, or that you told me.”
They head off to their respective rooms, and when Sirius dreams that night, they aren’t unpleasant. They're Remus, and he could never be unpleasant. Not to Sirius.
__________________________
Friday, November 7th, approx. 8:30am
“Mum? You actually got us somewhere?” James asks, absolutely ecstatic. Effie nods.
“The Hogwarts fall fair! I didn’t think of it until the very last minute, but Minerva, the saint, offered to help us set up an extra booth. You know how packed it gets there. This will be perfect.”
“How will we…you know, do stuff there? Get them to support our cause, and sell trees a month early?”
“I don’t think we should worry about selling trees just yet,” Sirius adds in, at the Potter’s for some of Effie’s homemade breakfast. “They’ll die by Christmas Eve, and then we’ll just have unsatisfied customers. We should advertise that we will be open, and better than ever, and tell people our cause and ask for small donations.”
“Good point, Sirius,” Effie agrees, making SIrius feel proud. “We could do a 50/50 raffle, or something like that. I can check with Minerva to see if that’s allowed, as we could announce the winners at the end.”
“Great idea, Effie,” Monty says, leaning over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek, making both James and Sirius act disgusted.
“Please,” Monty rolls his eyes. “You two are used to this by now, and it won’t be long until you have your own wives to do cute stuff with.”
“Or husbands,” Effie says, purposefully not looking too pointedly at either of her sons. Sirius appreciates that.
“Or husbands,” Monty echoes.
“Should we make signs?” James says, driving the topic back to the festival.
The Hogwarts fall festival was one of the few “big” events that happened in Godric’s Hollow. It was a bit like a large festival for the boarding school nearby, Hogwarts. James, Sirius, Marlene, Lily, Mary, and anyone else who was friends with anyone else in Godric’s Hollow had probably met at Hogwarts. To celebrate the returning students, new students, and old students, a festival of sorts was organised every year. Typically, it lasted about two days, on the first weekend in November, assuming that that weekend wasn’t technically November 1st and 2nd. Because it technically was in this case, the residents threw it on the second weekend.
“Probably. I wish we had gotten more warning, but it was very last minute- some other vendor dropped out, and Minerva called to ask if we could take their spot because she knows we need it.”
“That was kind of her,” Sirius says. “But very inconvenient for us. I think we should definitely make signs, and maybe post about it somewhere.”
“Like on our instagram?” James asks, probably remembering the instagram that was now collecting cobwebs on Sirius’ phone.
“Maybe. Or on a GoFundMe or something, or see if we can get any news outlets.”
“...We can’t do a GoFundMe, or anything that involves collecting money online from strangers,” Effie says, smiling through her gritted teeth. “It was in the contract. They think that it will invite fraud, or something like that. As if we would do that. That’s much more up their alley.”
Effie sounds offended by the very idea, which is fair, but Sirius understands Starry Night’s reasoning more than any of them do. Of course they wouldn’t allow it. Nevermind the fact Potterly Trees didn’t have anyone to pull money from, but Starry Night would’ve found a way to wire the money from one of their rich friends if they needed to, and doing it through a charity was a way for it to be a lot less suspicious. It was something they were quite good at.
“Well, they’re used to things like that. It probably wasn’t a slight towards you, but a sort of confession on their part, honestly. Online donations are much easier ways for suspicious transfers of money to not be…well, suspicious, and they draw less attention,” Sirius explains. The Potters give him an odd look- confusion, mixed with understanding, and worst of all, pity. No matter how many years he lives with them, there’s always going to be that look when Sirius explains things about his past. He’s just accepted it by now, but it still stings just a little bit.
“That makes…sense,” Effie nods, thinking it over. “I think they also did it for the community aspect, too, because if strangers can donate then how would the community support us? I hadn’t thought of the fraud thing, though. That seems in line with them.”
Right- the normal explanation, the community. Sirius forgets that sometimes, not everyone’s mind goes immediately to the inner workings of Starry Night. He wants to unlearn that aspect of himself, to consider them from an outside perspective just as they do to him, but he doesn’t think he ever will, not fully. You can leave a haunted house, but it's harder to shake the ghosts inside.
“Good point, the both of you,” Monty says approvingly, looking between his son and his wife. “I thought they did it just to be jerks.”
Sirius is sure he didn’t, but he laughs along with the rest of the family, including Monty after he says so.
“Does that mean we should start setting up now?” James asks, grinning madly. “Or do we need to wake up early tomorrow for it?”
One thing about James is that there’s nothing he loves more than waking up early. He would do so even on days when he didn’t have football practice, or need to at all. Sirius usually slept in as long as humanly possible on weekends, and as long as he needed before it’d get him into serious trouble on school days.
“Wake up early,” Monty says, at the same moment Effie says, “Set up now, for sure.”
They laugh at each other, making the entire table laugh more.
“We can set up now,” Monty agrees, as if he ever had any intention of disagreeing with his wife. “We can’t have you and Sirius scaring away customers, could we?”
This makes James laugh especially hard, remembering how mad Sirius would sometimes get when anyone interrupted his (unnecessary) beauty sleep. Oh, those days were fun.
“Most definitely not,” Sirius seconds, looking aghast at the idea, making the table chuckle even more.
“I agree. Do we set up now, then, or wait a few hours?” Monty questions, looking at Effie, who presumably has every answer in the entire world.
“I think we start setting up around 7, so we won't be too early- other people have jobs,” Effie says, then pulls out her phone to double check.
“Good to know. Sirius- is Remus coming? Do you think he’d want to help out, or stick strictly to the legal business?” Monty asks, as Effie checks an email.
“I’ll ask him,” Sirius allows, “But there’s no guarantee he’ll say yes. He likes to keep things…professional, you could say.”
“Didn’t you all go out for dinner and drinks a few days ago? Seems pretty unprofessional to me,” Effie interjects unhelpfully.
“That was more of a group thing, so he could meet Marlene and Mary and Lily,” Sirius explains.
“Didn’t you all have a sleepover that night?” Effie questions more, an innocent, naive look in her eye Sirius knows for a fact is fake. The memories of the sleepover - more specifically, the talk at 3am at it - flood his brain surprisingly easily. He really does remember everything about Remus.
“Mum, it wasn’t a sleepover. It was an overnight hangout of convenience,” James tries, which only makes Effie laugh.
“Whatever you want to say,” she says, her and Monty bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Will he be there, though?” Effie asks again, once she’s recovered.
“I’ll text and ask him, I swear, but as I said- no promises.”
“Tell him it’ll be good to have someone there who knows the contract,” Effie suggests. “I’d like to see him again. He seemed like a very enjoyable young man.”
“That he is,” James agrees, and Sirius sends Remus a quick text with the details. Remus replies instantly, agreeing.
“He replied,” Sirius tells them.
“Already? That’s a good sign,” Effie nods approvingly. A sign of what, Sirius can’t be certain, but he doesn’t dwell on it. “What’d he say?”
“He agreed. Said he’d be there at 7 tonight to start help setting up, so you’ll see him then, and Saturday, too.”
“I look forward to that,” Effie says.
“As do I,” Monty agrees. The next few hours pass slowly, the clock taking forever to the time that tells them to leave, but eventually it does.
___________________________
Friday, November 7th, approx. 7pm
“Remus! You’re here!” Sirius greets, at the sight of Remus waiting awkwardly by an empty space marked with a small sign reading “Reserved for Potterly Trees.”
“Yeah, I got here a few minutes ago,” Remus says, and joins where Sirius is carrying a large table out of a Potterly Trees truck, helping him move it.
“Huh. I think we should set up the tent first,” James says, joining them, looking at the cloudy sky above. It is November in England, after all.
“Agreed.”
They finish surprisingly fast, with the help of all five of them setting things up. Really, it wasn’t much to begin with- set up the tent, hang a few premade signs around said tent, and set up a few things at the table. Most of the work would be done Saturday, to lower the risk of things getting rained on or stolen, even if it was unlikely in Godric’s Hollow.
“So that’s…all?” James asks, looking at his wrist (empty of a watch), and then his phone for the time. “It’s barely 7:20.”
“Time flies,” Effie shrugs.
“Sorry for making you come all the way out here for this,” Sirius says to Remus, remembering the half-hour-long commute from London he must’ve taken.
“It’s no problem,” Remus shrugs, looking at their handiwork. “This was fun. Y’know, for the 20 minutes it lasted.”
“Better than 20 minutes in the morning,” Effie says, and that most of them can agree with. Much better. “I think Monty and I will head back now. No use staying for much longer, and Minerva isn’t showing up until tomorrow, so I can’t even say hi to her.”
“We’re old, so we’ll be sleeping soon anyhow,” Monty adds, following his wife to the van.
“I think I’ll go too,” James follows, then turns back. “Sirius? Are you staying, or leaving?”
Sirius thinks about it for a minute, before deciding; “I think I’ll stay. It’ll be cool to see how things have changed around here.”
James nods, shooting a quick glance at Remus as if that explains it, and hops in with his parents. They then drive off, leaving Sirius and Remus in one of Hogwarts long fields next to a series of tents.
“So, you went to school here?” Remus asks, turning to face him, looking around at the school.
Sirius nods. It’s about 15 minutes away from Godric’s Hollow, and 45 from London, so it has a fair split of snobby rich kids and small town kids. Sirius was one of the snobby rich kids, and while James had been fairly wealthy, he was still counted as a small town kid. Despite this, they both rose to popularity fast and easily, joining sports teams and clubs left and right and being generally charming and funny to most.
“I had the time of my life here. You?”
“I went to a primary school in Wales, then when I was 12 and moved here, I went to a small private school for my secondary education.”
“Was it fun?”
“It wasn’t bad. I was more of a loner, but I had Alice, so it was still fun for me just not in the way most would guess. I went to parties, but it’s not like I drank there, and I mostly enjoyed studying more.”
“You absolute nerd,” Sirius laughs, bumping into Remus. “You said you were valedictorian, right? That makes a lot of sense, now, actually.”
“Let me guess, you were probably the one who threw most parties, am I right?” Remus asks, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, even though it’s undeniably obvious.
“How could you tell? I was a total riot, let me tell you,” Sirius says.
“You give the energy of someone who was popular in school,” Remus says honestly. “Also, I’ve seen you drink like someone who did a lot during school.”
“Fair point,” Sirius responds, before coming to the doors of Hogwarts. They’re closed, for safety reasons, but they can still walk around the property. “Damn. I wish these were open.”
“Could we break in?”
“Remus Lupin,” Sirius gasps. “I never thought you a criminal.”
Remus shrugs. “I had a bit of a rebellious phase in my teens, I’ll admit. I sold a few knockoffs to the popular kids, you know that? It was pretty easy.”
“Knockoffs of what? I’m now questioning everything I ever bought cheap from someone unknown.”
“Mostly shoes, like doc martens. It was pretty fun. I mean, I feel a bit bad about it now, but a lot of them were jerks so I don’t really feel too bad.”
“Fuck, I might’ve bought knockoffs,” Sirius laughs, rounding a corner to a stone wall. “Here it is- somewhere on this wall, my initials and James’ are inscribed here. Mary, Lily, and Marlene’s are here too, but I figure you probably don’t know theirs.”
“Good point. This is…a bit incredible, honestly.”
“We were sure to be remembered,” Sirius says, in response to Remus finding the large stone scrawled all over with initials. They had carved theirs into it their last year, sometime in the last month while partially drunk and lamenting the loss of their teenage years.
“I think a lot of people would have a hard time forgetting you,” Remus says, then quickly corrects, “from what it sounds like, anyways.”
“I hope so. That’d be nice. I could go down in Hogwarts history with James as some of the best pranksters of all time.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it for a minute. Students will tell their children the horrors you unleashed in the halls as warnings, mark my words.”
They’ve made almost a complete lap around Hogwarts now, walking fairly fast and talking easily. For Sirius, talking to Remus seemed as natural as breathing. How could he not tell him absolutely everything?
When they finally made it back to the stand, after a few more conversations of varying topic and intensity, Sirius realises the difficult situation that was time.
“Are you an early bird?” Sirius asks, as he calls a cab.
Remus winces. “I could be, like for tomorrow. I plan to get here on time, again. It’s only 45 minutes.”
Sirius isn’t dumb, though. 45 minutes is a fair chunk of someone’s day, especially in England.
“Would it be easier if you just stayed here again, then?” Sirius asks hesitantly. “My flat is still an option. I haven’t even gotten around to changing the guest bed sheets, though now that I’m saying that I’m realising that might not be a positive thing.”
“Really?”
“Truly. I can lend you a shirt again, and that way you won’t have to travel so far,” Sirius explains. “It’s fine if not! I get that, you know, it’d be unprofessional or whatever, but-”
“I hate that word so much,” Remus interjects, then apologises. “Sorry, carry on.”
“No it’s fine,” Sirius says. “I completely agree. This would be much easier if unprofessionalism didn’t exist.”
Sirius isn’t sure if he’s referring to the sleepover (let’s admit it, that’s what it is), or them in general, but he still says it. Remus seems confused too, but ultimately agrees. “I think I’ll still take you up on that offer, if you don’t mind,” he says. Inside, Sirius is elated.
The cab soon pulls up, and they hop inside, taking the ride to Sirius’ flat.
“Any plans to get water in the middle of the night, or should I get some for you now?” Sirius jokes, coming into the guest room before around when the time for bed would be. They ended up watching a movie to fill the time- a disney one, Bambi. It’s James’ favourite, so it was already in the recommended section of the app, and Remus apparently loves nature animals. The memory of their hands reaching for the popcorn bowl in the centre is burned into Sirius’ memory.
Remus goes a bit red at the memory, but laughs it off. “I’ll be ok. Sorry about that, again.”
“Don’t worry too much about it. I don’t mind,” Sirius smiles. “Goodnight!”
Remus says goodnight back, and with that, Sirius leaves, satisfied with the day.
As he sleeps that night, he realises it’s getting harder and harder to ignore his growing and growing feelings for Remus. If not for stupid unprofessionalism, Sirius laments, before drifting off.