Chapter 1
The Hogshead is as familiar as if Remus had left last week, instead of ten years ago, as he moves between the wooden tables towards the booths at the back. The music is loud and still hasn’t left the nineteen seventies, as Zeppelin blasts over attempts at conversation. He sees James nearly immediately. His hair is wild, his eyes bright behind gold-rimmed round glasses, a world away from the black square ones he had been wearing last time Remus saw him. Remus wonders if he’s changed. On the inside, in his mind, he’s not changed since he was about twelve, so he’s unlikely to be the expert on the matter.
Taking advantage of the fact that James is sat scrolling on his phone and hasn’t seen him yet, Remus surveys his outfit- a white button down, clearly expensive, rolled up at the sleeves. Suit trousers, smart shoes. A black backpack sits next to him, as well as a navy sweater. He’s clearly come straight from work. Remus looks down at his own state of dress; converse, woollen trousers and an aran jumper, a souvenir from the life he had just left. He wonders how James will interpret it. He wonders how James will interpret him.
“Remus!” James calls out as Remus moves closer to the table. His whole face lights up, and the anxiety that had sat like a weight on Remus’ chest in anticipation of this reunion eases. He feels light as a feather in the beam of James Potter’s thousand-watt smile again.
“James,” Remus says softly, grinning widely as James leaps up and pulls him into a tight hug. “It’s been too long.”
“Whose fault is that?” James teases, still smiling as he sits back down.
“I know, I know, but I’m back now, permanently, I hope.” Remus says, sliding into the booth across from James.
“That’s good to hear, mate. Tell me about it- ten years in Scotland is a long time. Why did you come back? Why now? Also- before we get into all that, I should tell you, Sirius is-”
“Sirius is what, Jamie?” came a deep, smooth voice from behind him, ringing with humour. Remus twists in his seat to watch Sirius’ approach. “Remus!” Sirius cries, smiling widely and pulling him up into a tight hug.
“Wow, Sirius. You look….” Remus trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to say. Sirius grinned at him and slid into the booth next to James.
“What James was about to tell you, is that I’m a woman now.” Sirius said. Her fierce eyes were ringed with black, staring right at him, challenging him to respond. “That’s great, Sirius.” Remus said warmly, smiling at her over the table. She looked amazing, wearing a tight black cropped vest and high waisted flowing black trousers. Her hair was much the same as it had been at school, maybe a bit longer, but worn loose around her shoulders.
“Right then, that's the big reveal. Now, where were we?” James said, breaking the tension of their eye contact by nudging Sirius with his shoulder. Remus dragged his eyes off Sirius to look at him, and began to answer all his questions.
**
Remus had almost -almost- forgotten the attraction he had harboured towards Sirius when they’d been at school, but now sat opposite her in the lowlights of the Hogshead, their knees knocking under the table, it came flooding back like a tsunami. The way her lips wrapped around the straw of her gin and tonic, the way she still tilted her head back to laugh. The way Remus could still make her laugh the way no one else could, other than maybe James, her eyes scrunched shut, smiling so wide her one little snaggle tooth was visible.
“What is it that you do, then?” Remus asked after their second drink. James was long gone to attend to his fatherly duties, something about the bedtime ritual being important for emotional bonding, and it was just the two of them.
“I’m a mechanic.” Sirius said, a smile at her lips. They really were such lovely lips. Remus remembers dreaming about them when he was sixteen. Turns out very little has changed after all.
“Of course! Motorbikes, you always loved them. How is that?”
“I love it,” Sirius gushes, leaning forward in her seat. “I have my own shop, and I only do really specialised stuff. Vintage, you know? The cars and bikes they don’t make parts for anymore, I source the things I need and fix them up. I’m the only person this end of the country who can.”
“Do you finally have the bike you always dreamed of?” Remus asked, desperately racking his brain for the name. “A Harley, right? I remember you showed me a turquoise one, once.” Sirius sat back in her seat, suddenly silent. Remus cursed himself for clearly getting the wrong bike make, and opened his mouth to backtrack, when-
“You remember that?” Sirius’ voice was soft, quiet.
“Of course I do, Sirius.” Remus responded with equal softness. “I’ll let you in on a secret, and don’t tell James, but you were always my favourite.” he grinned at her, hoping it came across light and funny; that it didn’t reveal the deeper meaning behind his words. Hoping that when he said ‘you were always my favourite’ Sirius didn’t hear his unspoken I think I’ve been a little bit in love with you since I was fourteen. I think I’ll always be a little bit in love with you.
**
Sirius was already sitting inside when Remus arrived, at the high bar in the window, a large mug in front of her. After the pub night, when they had gotten along so well like there weren’t ten years of distance and unspoken confessions between them, they had agreed to meet up again in a few days time, just the two of them. Sirius’ hair was in two messy dutch braids and she was wearing a white baby tee and blue jeans. She was so beautiful, it stole Remus’ breath for a moment. She beamed when she caught sight of him and his heart stuttered in his chest.
“I’ve got to go in a bit, I’m meeting- someone.” Sirius said after two coffees and three hours of the easiest conversation Remus has ever had. He feels like he’s floating, just being with Sirius like this, the way it had always made him feel when he was sixteen. Having Sirius’ full attention on him, her bright eyes staring into his, the way she talks with her hands, the way she’d smooth back her hair when the wispy bits at the front got stuck in her peach-pink lip gloss.
“That’s fine, I have a meeting in a bit as well. Who are you seeing?” Remus asked, tidying up their dirty mugs. He was secretly terrified for the meeting with his editor. She’d been awfully vague about what it was that was so urgent when she called him, and he had spent the night before tossing and turning in his new bed, worrying they were going to cancel his new deal.
“My, uh, boyfriend,” Sirius said, hesitating, before ducking her head down. Boyfriend. The word rang through Remus' head like an off key church bell.
“Boyfriend!” Remus said with false brightness, trying to ignore the way it felt like the shards of his shattered heart were puncturing his lungs. Sirius glanced up at him again and smiled, tucking her loose strands of hair behind her ear. Remus wondered if her boyfriend did that for her when they were together. “So, tell me about him, then.” Remus said, smiling a smile that he knew looked forced and knocking his knee against Sirius, trying to pretend like he was a good friend and he cared about her boyfriend and he didn’t feel like hopes and dreams he hadn’t even known he’d been harbouring for the past ten years had just been crushed.
“We met at uni, in our final year. I mean- we only got together about a year ago, but it kind of felt inevitable, I guess.” Sirius said, still looking at the table in front of them. She wasn’t looking him in the eye anymore. He missed the warmth of her gaze on his.
We felt inevitable. I thought we were inevitable.
Remus battled the thoughts, trying to smile. “What’s his name?” Remus wasn’t sure he actually wanted to know, but it felt like the polite thing to ask. That’s what friends did, right?
“Callum. He works in IT, and lives out by Gloucester Road. He’s- lovely, really.” Remus couldn’t tell if it was just wishful thinking, but Sirius didn’t seem excited to be sharing this information at all.
“You should invite him to the next pub night!” Remus offered brightly, wishing with all that he had she would say no, say that she wanted to keep it just them, the way it had been, the way it was meant to be.
“Aw that’s lovely, Remus, and I’m sure you’ll meet him, but that’s not really his scene.” Sirius responded, finally looking back up and smiling. Remus roughly shoved his still-breaking heart to the side and smiled back. He wasn’t sure why but the air between them suddenly felt tense. Maybe he wasn’t hiding his disappointment as well as he thought he was.
“He’s a wise man, to avoid having to deal with James after a few pints, huh?” he offered, trying to lighten the mood. Sirius laughed, but it was forced and sat wrong in his stomach as the two of them got up to leave.
**
Remus wasn’t sure he’d felt this panicky ever before in his life as he clutched the neck of the champagne bottle tight in both hands and approached the front door of the house James shared with his new wife. Remus had yet to meet Lily but in the few brief weeks he’d been back, he’d heard everything about her. He, James and Sirius had started a regular twice-a-week pub or coffee meet up, desperately trying to catch up on ten missed years of friendship. It wasn’t easy to find lots of time, though, between the hours they worked and the relationships they were a part of, and Remus had been back for nearly a month before they’d found an evening that worked for a proper welcome home dinner party.
He had no idea what to expect as he rang the doorbell, but it was not a toddler. “Harry! No opening the door!” came a woman’s voice, and the sound of running feet as a five foot tall woman with fiery ginger hair came skidding down the hallway and scooped the boy up in her arms. “I’m sorry, you must be Remus, please, come on in.” she panted, standing back and letting him in. The hallway was dark wood and william morris wallpaper, and botanical art hung on the walls.
“And you must be Lily, it’s lovely to meet you, and Harry. I’ve heard so much about you both.” Remus responded somewhat awkwardly as he followed her through a door into a large, warm stone kitchen. James was standing at the forest green aga Remus was immediately jealous of, stirring a huge pot.
“Remus!” he shouted, spinning round. There was sauce splattered on his glasses and all over the plain navy apron he wore. Remus sidestepped the hug to avoid also being coated in the admittedly delicious smelling liquid, holding out the bottle.
“Papa!” the boy in Lily’s arms called, wriggling about until she put him down. James crouched down and held his arms out, but Harry veered off at the last minute and flung himself at Remus’ legs. “Papa!” he called out happily, staring up at Remus with large green eyes, his tiny chubby hands clinging to Remus’ corduroys with all his might. As James huffed and Lily laughed so hard she cried, Remus awkwardly bent down and scooped the boy up in his arms.
“Hello Harry.” he said to the boy softly, gently kissing his round cheek. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”
“That’s uncle moony, baby.” James said, rubbing Harry’s head softly before turning back to his sauce.
“Oh! You have one too! I thought they were just a James and Sirius thing!” Lily said, grinning at him as she twisted her long, thick hair back into a claw clip. “Yup, we all had them.” Remus affirmed, bouncing Harry in his arms. The boy squealed and reached up, gripping Remus’ curls in his chubby fists. Remus winced but bore it with good humour.
“Harry! Gentle hands, remember?” James said, reaching over and prying them off Remus’ head. “Can you say ‘Uncle Moony’, baby?”
“Moo!” Harry called out, grinning widely, showing off his four little milk teeth. Remus melted. He could already see how badly he was going to spoil this little boy. The doorbell rang again and Lily padded off to get it whilst James handed Remus a glass of wine and Remus focussed all his attention on the tiny angel in his arms. Harry’s skin was rich and dark like James’ and he had large green bug-eyes filled with wonder as they fixed on Remus’ face.
Before he’d left, as he looked in the mirror whilst getting ready, there had been a moment when Remus had worried the scars on his face would scare James’ son, and he damn-well near cried as Harry ran soft and exploratory fingers down the numb areas of skin that ran across the bridge of his nose and down the right side of his face. “Moo!” Harry said again, softer this time, his hands pressed against Remus’ cheeks.
“That’s me,” Remus said, grinning and willing his voice not to break, trying not to let the tears of pure happiness that lingered at the corners of his eyes spill over. “I’m your uncle Moony! I know I’ve missed a lot but I’m here forever now.”
There were voices outside, and then the door opened again, letting in a blast of cool autumn air. Remus turned to see Lily and Sirius enter. Sirius was in a long woollen coat cinched at the waist with a belt and heeled loafers. Her hair was pinned back at the sides with star-shaped clips, and plain silver hoops glinted in her ears. She wore a sheer black shirt with a lace bra underneath, tucked into the same trousers she had worn at the pub. She looked incredible, and Remus knew he was staring but couldn’t pull his eyes away. He had never expected the Sirius he had known at school to end up with a fashion sense that was so effortlessly elegant, but he supposed part of that must be the near-aristocratic upbringing, and the fact that a lot can change in ten years.
He hadn’t thought about it so explicitly, but at school he had very much assumed that James would remain a bachelor for a very long time. In fact, if you’d asked him when he was eighteen which of them would be the first with a wife and child and townhouse, he would have said himself. Funny how things change.
“No Callum?” James asked, and Sirius shook her head, grimacing a bit. “He’s running late. Sends his apologies, should be here within half an hour.” James nodded, and Sirius disappeared briefly, reappearing sans coat and shoes. Her socks were black with silver stars embroidered onto them, and Remus wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything so endearing in his life.
“Where’s my baby, hmmm?” Sirius said, padding up to Remus and holding her arms out. “Pads!” Harry cried happily, wriggling about, kicking Remus in the stomach as Remus safely transferred him over.
“That’s right, Aunty Padfoot!” Lily said, pouring Sirius a glass of wine and ushering Remus into a seat at the long mahogany table that stood next to the kitchen window. Harry got strapped into a highchair, and Sirius sat next to Remus whilst Lily and James sat opposite them. If Remus was given to flights of fancy, he might take a selfish minute to pretend they were two couples sitting at the table, that they did this all the time, that Sirius’ knee knocking against his under the table wasn’t accidental, but utterly and entirely on purpose. He tried not to dwell on the fantasy for too long as more wine got poured and James carried over the large pan to the table, explaining that it contained a somewhat authentic Moroccan lamb tagine.
He was forcefully ripped from it, however, when the doorbell went again, and Sirius sprang from her seat to go and answer. The man who entered the kitchen behind her a few moments later was tall, and typically handsome. Thick wavy blond hair, Broad, dressed like a typical finance bro. He looked boring, not at all like the person he’d assume Sirius would go for. His teeth were a bit too straight and his smile a bit too wide and his hair a bit too neat and Remus felt a bit like he was from the uncanny valley. He was like a Ken doll given life; not quite human.
“Hello all, so sorry I’m late.” the man said jovially, giving Sirius a kiss on the cheek as she slid back into her seat next to Remus. “You must be the famous Remus! So nice to finally meet you.” Callum said to him, shaking his hand over the table. He gripped hard enough that Remus could feel his knuckles grind together a bit, and Remus wondered if it was on purpose.
“So lovely to finally meet you, Callum.” Remus responded, hoping his smile looked genuine and not forced. He watched the way Callum set himself at the head of the table, the way his eyes lingered on Remus’ place next to Sirius, the way Sirius didn’t meet Callum’s eye, instead diving back into her food like she’d been starving.
“So, what is it you do, Remus?” Callum asked after the dinner plates had all been tidied away, Harry had been put to bed, and they were waiting for the feeling of fullness to subside enough for pudding.
“I’m a writer. Oh! And I actually just got the call this morning, the university has offered me tenure as a professor for the history and english departments.” Remus responded.
“Remus!” James and Sirius both shouted, their faces lighting up. “That’s incredible, mate, really! To get tenure as such a new professor, that’s almost unheard of, wow!” James gushed, his eyes bright from the wine and the excitement, and Remus felt warmth suffuse through his blood like a comforting cup of tea.
“Oh, Remus!” Sirius jumped in when James had finished, pulling him into an awkward hug as they were sat side-by-side. She smelt like honey and cloves and her hands were so gentle on Remus’ shoulders and on his back, and she pulled away much too soon. Remus caught the look she darted towards Callum as she did so, and had the distinct feeling he was missing something.
“Congratulations!” Callum interjected, but it didn’t sound or feel sincere, and Remus caught the look Lily and James shared, frowning slightly. Lily then leapt up from her chair, yanking open the fridge door with more force than was necessary. “This calls for a celebration!” she called from where her head was inside the fridge, and she emerged triumphant with a bottle of very posh red wine. “What an achievement, Remus!”
“I almost worked at the uni, but I chose the firm I’m at now instead, the pay was higher.” Callum said to Remus as the wine was being poured and pudding bowls set out. “I didn’t know you ever considered a career in teaching, Callum?” James jumped in quickly, an unexpected bite in his words.
“Me neither, Cal.” Sirius said, and Remus tried not to bristle at the nickname, instead taking a hefty sip from his glass and feeling the velvety rich liquid coat his tongue. It really was very good wine.
“Yes, well, you know. No point in talking about it if I’m not doing it, is there?” Callum rebutted brusquely. “This is a lovely vintage, Lily. great mouthfeel.” he said about the wine, and Remus made eye contact with James and bit his lip to stifle his laugh as James rolled his eyes at him.
Sirius and Callum left not long after pudding had been eaten, Callum announcing he needed an early night, and Sirius silently rising to go with him. Remus watched her go, noting the way her shoulders curved inward as he slung an arm over them. The tension in her body as he pulled her close. He realised with a jolt that over the course of the whole meal, her knee hadn’t knocked into his again. He wondered if it meant anything. He wondered what he wanted it to mean.
**
Because of his tenure, Remus’ agent had extended his book deal, but he still tried to write a little bit every day. His new house- bought with book money and inheritance money, was much too big for one person, but Remus loved it. With two rooms still left over after setting up a spare bedroom and living room, Remus decided to have two spare bedrooms and an office. His office was the smallest spare room, but still spacious compared to the flat he had lived in in Edinburgh, and it had a large sash window that overlooked his large and overgrown garden. He positioned his desk under the window, taking advantage of the many hours of natural light. He also had a record player, and an armchair.
It was his favourite room, and he retreated there each weekend and every day after work. If he wasn’t writing he was marking, or reading or planning or simply existing, sitting and staring out of the window with one of his favourite albums spinning in the background. That's where he was as he waited for Sirius, sitting and staring out of the window, ready to catch a glimpse of her, Back to Black playing softly behind him. She had promised to take him on a picnic somewhere, with James, Lily and Harry meeting them there. Remus was more excited than he’d ever admit at the idea of being picked up by Sirius.
She’d already told him, at one of their many meet-ups since his return, that she had a burgeoning collection of classic cars she got for cheap and fixed up herself in her spare time. He could not believe his eyes when a red Chevrolet rolled up in front of his front gate, and he was on his feet without even realising it. The air was cold as October got fully underway, and he grabbed his jacket from the hook by his front door, as well as his favourite scarf, which he wound around his neck as he jogged through his front garden.
“Sirius, this car is incredible.” he gushed as he slid into the front seat. She looked even better than the car; her loose french braids were back, framing her face in such an impossibly lovely way, tied off with black hair ties. She was wearing a thick burgundy knitted sweater and a black mini skirt and tights. Her nails were painted silver where they rested on the steering wheel, and Remus felt the familiar surge of deep, unending affection he had begun to experience every time he saw her. It was hellish, really. Like being fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen again.
Sirius was his best friend, the person he liked spending the most time with. He was also rapidly becoming convinced that she was The Love of his Life, and after he had fucked off for ten years he returned to find her even more beautiful than ever, and in a loving and committed relationship to someone who wasn’t him. Or at least, a relationship. He had been back for two months now- two exhilarating, comforting, nostalgic months, and he had picked up on threads of tension every time Callum was mentioned. These threads strengthened and wove together into whole tapestries of uncomfortable subtexts when he joined them for dinner, or lunch, or a walk, or whatever activity they were doing.
Aside from that, Remus just also generally thought he was an arsehole. He never gave Harry the time of day, his favourite thing to talk about was himself, and he came across self absorbed and sanctimonious in the most unattractive way possible. Even if Remus hadn’t been holding a torch the size of Ireland for Sirius, he still wouldn’t have understood what Sirius saw in him. He tried not to think about Callum too much. It was none of his business, after all. He couldn’t very well turn up after ten years away and start getting in the way of the lives James and Sirius had built in his absence.
The drive was a long one, and Remus spent an embarrassingly long portion of it staring at Sirius’ profile whilst she drove. Her jawline, the way it caught the sunlight. The way the wayward strands of hair whipped about in the wind generated by the open windows. The way she bit her lip in concentration every time they came across a roundabout. Her phone ringing made them both jump.
“Do you mind grabbing that? Just pop it on speaker phone.” Sirius said, barely glancing away from the road ahead. Remus grabbed her phone and answered as he registered Callum was calling.
“Sirius?”
“Yeah, Cal? Remus, sorry, could you just hold it a bit closer? Yeah, great.”
“Remus is there?” Callum said sharply, and Remus forced himself to look out of the window.
“Yeah, why?”
“You never said he was going.” Callum sounded strange. Maybe it was the distortion of the phone. Remus bit his tongue and stayed silent.
“I said the gang was going,” Sirius forced a laugh. “Remus is part of the gang.”
“Lily and James couldn’t have driven him?”
“I live closer, and anyway I didn’t want to drive alone, it’s like an hour and a half.”
“Which car did you take?”
“The Chevy, why?”
“You know I don’t like you driving that long distances.” Remus breathed in deeply and willed himself not to react. He had only had the displeasure of meeting Callum a few times, but each time he liked the man less and less and less.
“Cal, it’s fine, I fixed her, I know she works.” Sirius said lightly. Remus lost his resolve and glanced over at her. She was biting her lip again, and her shoulders had drooped again, the way they always did in his presence, like the mere sound of his voice was enough to bring her down. Remus thinks he gets it a bit more, now. If he talks to her like she’s a child when he knows he can hear, he wonders what it’s like when they’re alone.
“Just take the audi next time, okay?”
“Yeah, sure cal, of course, sorry.” Sirius responded quickly. “We’re nearly there now, though, I can see James and Lil, I’ve got to go.”
“Alright, see you later. I love you.”
“Love you too, Cal.” Sirius responded, and Remus took his cue to hang up. One look at the tightness of Sirius' expression told him not to ask any of the questions swirling around his head, so instead he turned the music up and commented on how pretty the countryside was. Sirius nodded but didn’t say anything.
**
After the picnic, Remus noticed that he saw Sirius significantly less, and never when it was just the two of them. As he settled in, twice a week meetups became once a week meetups became a settled and established practice of fortnightly pub nights. Usually just the three of them, but sometimes Lily if they could get a babysitter. There was even one very memorable Friday night where Harry joined them, climbing all over the laps of his uncle and aunt and giving the whole pub baby fever.
But before the picnic- before that phone call- Remus and Sirius used to regularly meet for coffee, or lunch, just the two of them. They would share a few hours of intimate conversation, and the outside world would entirely fade away. Remus’ favourite was when Sirius met him on her lunch break, dressed in her leather jackets and smelling like motor oil with stained hands, her hair plaited back. She didn’t invite him any more. After she either declined or invited James to his invitations, he quickly got the message, which was why he was so surprised one day when he received a phone call just as he was leaving work. He dodged through throngs of students smoking outside of the humanities complex, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Sirius, is everything okay?”
“Of course it is,” she huffed. “I just wanted to know if you’re free tonight?”
“I should be, why?” Remus frowned. He had made other friends now, work friends, who he did occasionally go out with, and he racked his brain to see if there were any plans for a pint that evening. He knew that even if there were, he would still pick Sirius.
“I’m babysitting Harry, and thought you might like to join us. At Lily and James’ house. They have date night, and I missed my little boy, and thought you might too.” Remus could have jumped for joy and clicked his heels, he felt that excited.
“Yeah that sounds great. Text me what time.” he said breathlessly into the phone, quickening his pace so he could get home and shower the day’s grime off him before it was time to leave again. Sirius led him upstairs to James and Lily’s living room, where Harry was laid out on a plush tartan blanket on the floor, dressed in the sweetest bear onesie Remus had ever seen, little round fuzzy ears sticking up, watching 101 dalmatians. Sirius was in a long sleeve black top, edged with lace, and a long woollen chequered skirt in grey and blood red. It didn’t matter how many times he saw her, Remus was blown away by her beauty every time. Her hair hung down her back, longer than it had been when he’d first moved back, curling gently. She curled up in the corner of the sofa, and Remus chose to lie down on the floor next to Harry, who immediately clambered onto his chest and held on tight to the collar of his shirt.
“Did you ever want kids?” Sirius asked, and Remus looked up at her, arms wrapped around Harry’s warm back.
“I’m not sure ‘want’ is the right word? I always assumed I’d have them, so I never really thought about whether I wanted them? I think maybe yes?” Remus says uncertainly. He looks down at Harry again, brushing soft fingers through the boy's soft hair.
“Yes, I think I would like kids. Just one, or two, maybe.” He says with more certainty, imagining his new house, the space it had, the spare bedrooms. The way a school uniform might look carelessly thrown over his kitchen chairs, long walks on a sunday. “You?” he looks back at her, settling Harry closer to his chest, breathing in the warm milk and sudocrem scent of him; warm, safe, comforting. Sirius was staring right at him, lips bitten pink, a strange look on her face. He thought it might be sadness.
“Yeah, I do.” Remus thought for a moment before asking his next question.
“With Callum, or…” He trailed off, leaving it open ended. He couldn’t see Callum being a good father. He hoped Sirius could see that. Hoped that even if she chose to stay with him, she wouldn’t try and start a family with him. Remus could see it already- the pressure he’d pile onto his children, the lack of warmth, the complete emotional unavailability. Sirius hitched one shoulder in a half-shrug, looking away from him.
“I’m not sure Callum would want kids with me.” she said softly.
“What does that mean?” Remus asked before he could stop himself, harshness evident in his voice. He watched as Sirius shrunk under it and he wished to reach out, to hold and soothe. To say that all his anger was directed at her partner and never her. Never her.
“I’d be quite an unorthodox mum.” Sirius says at last, and Remus opens his mouth to say something- anything, but the film ends and Harry starts fussing loudly, screwing his face up and kicking Remus. Sirius uncurls from the sofa and silently holds her arms out for him. Unsure of where he’s wanted, Remus awkwardly follows her up the stairs to his bedroom. It’s an attic room, with a small bed pressed against one wall, and a double pressed against the other. Sirius explains that the double bed is for James and Lily to sleep in when he’s sick, and she sometimes stays there overnight when she’s babysitting.
The walls are bright blue and covered in colourful painted fish, and Remus knows there’s more love held within those four walls then some people see in a lifetime. Pictures of them all are plastered everywhere, boxes full to the brim with toys are stacked neatly against the walls. Bookshelves full of picture books. He can see that Harry will grow up wanting for nothing. Sirius lays Harry gently in the bed, and he immediately curls into a little ball, eyes closed, his thumb jammed into his mouth.
“For what it’s worth,” Remus whispers into the silence, coming to stand behind Sirius and bravely placing a hand softly against her lower back. “I think you’d be a lovely mum.” He lingers, selfishly, feeling the warmth of her skin, smelling the honey-and-clove heady mix that had now become familiar to him. He ached to step closer into her body, slide his arms around her waist and hold her tight. He wonders if she knows that. Wonders if she knows that each of his five fingers against the soft cotton of her skirt whisper I love you, I love you, I love you into her skin.
When he can no longer justify the proximity anymore, he steps back again, turning to leave the room. He’s not sure if he imagines her sigh. They return to the living room and Sirius offers Remus a glass of wine, breaking the silence, and one glass turns into half a bottle turns into easy conversation, facing each other on the sofa. James and Lily had inherited his father’s record collection, a world away from Remus’ personal tastes, but perfect for an evening like this. Edith Piaf is soft in the background as their socked toes touch in the middle of the sofa cushion. The main light is off and the only source of brightness is a small stained-glass lamp that casts the room in jewel tones. The colours guild Sirius’ face and she is a work of art; the virgin mother immortalised in a church window, the Mona Lisa’s prettier sister. Remus could watch her forever.
The wine is red and the atmosphere is intimate and Remus is on the brink of throwing all caution to the wind and asking her ‘why did you invite me tonight’, which really means am I imagining the growing affection between us. Do you want me the way I want you, which is to say desperately? Do you look at me and think of the life you could have lived, because I look at you and I see happiness, when Sirius’ phone rings.
“Hey, Cal.” she sighs into it, turning away from him. The sound of his name is like a bucket of cold water. Suddenly the soft, warm buzz of the alcohol becomes the nausea that heralds a hangover. The light is suddenly no longer soft and gentle but weak; casting into shadows the corners of their lives where Callum lurks, and instead only illuminating to Remus what he wishes to see, which is Sirius, looking back at him. “Cal, you know I’m babysitting Harry tonight….. No, there’s no point coming over now, I’m seeing you tomorrow.” Sirius gets up and starts pacing, her skirt whispering as it brushes the floorboards. She doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t know if that means anything.
“No, I didn’t say that I didn’t want to see you, just that we’d only have a few hours together. And James and Lily wouldn’t know and it feels weird inviting you to someone else’s house. And besides, Remus is-” Sirius pauses. Pales. Leaves the room, but stays outside the door. Remus can still hear her. He doesn’t know if that’s purposeful or not. “No, Callum.” Sirius says, muffled now, with the door between them, but still audible. “I didn’t know he was coming, James and Lily must have invited him so he could see Harry more. No- he was here when I arrived, I-”
A pause. A long one. Footsteps. Remus can’t hear anymore. She’d lied. She’d lied to Callum about inviting him there that evening. Remus sank back on the sofa and closed his eyes, feeling the way the wine made his head spin and wishing now he’d drank it slower. She’d lied to her boyfriend about inviting him over. He tried not to get too excited. He doesn’t know if that means anything.
**
Sirius’ birthday invitation comes in the form of a handwritten letter, posted through his letter box. It’s ostentatious and pretentious and entirely over the top and it reminds Remus all too much of the dramatic and rambunctious eighteen year old he had left behind ten years ago. The party is a formal dinner at a restaurant so posh Remus has read about it in magazines. Sirius has rented out a private room, and commanded that everyone dress to the nines. After a consultation with James and Lily about outfits, he finally settles on woollen trousers with a pink floral pattern and a matching waistcoat, wearing a textured white shirt underneath. The outfit is busy and flamboyant and hugely out of his comfort zone, but the grin on Sirius’ face when she sees him in James and Lily’s kitchen makes it all worth it.
Sirius is wearing cream high waisted silk trousers and a sheer chiffon blouse tucked in, with black platform boots. Her hair cascades down one shoulder in a silken waterfall of careful curls, and Remus wonders if god is playing a cruel trick on him by making her more and more beautiful by the day when she’s so painfully unattainable. The four of them meet early and toast Sirius’ twenty-nine years with eye-wateringly expensive champagne, leaving Harry with the endearing a-level student from down the street who insists on taking pictures of all their outfits and whom Harry seems to love with his entire little heart, before setting off in the chill early-november air.
Sirius links arms with James and Remus as they walk and it feels so much like school again. Remus loves it. Sirius’ arm is gentle in the crook of his elbow and if he squints and tilts his head sideways he can imagine what this would be like if it were only the two of them, if Lily wasn’t walking ahead, if James wasn’t on the other side, if they were a real couple going on a real date and Remus wasn’t left feeling like he was playing second fiddle to a narcissistic GI joe doll.
Callum is waiting outside when they arrive and Sirius whips her arms away from him and James he nearly gets a friction burn. He’s holding a huge bouquet of plain red roses and Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes and scoff. Sirius’ favourite flowers are white camelia’s, because her dad used to buy them for her mum and it was the only pure, untouched, loving act she ever experienced her whole childhood. Callum should know that. Callum should know Sirius would hate red roses for her birthday; she’d find them lazy and uninspired.
She receives the bouquet gracefully, giving him a kiss on the cheek and slipping her hand into his. Remus moves his attention elsewhere. The room is nearly full when they walk in. There is a long table down the middle laid with place names, and vases of baby’s breath and bottles of wine decorate the elegant linen tablecloth. Sirius’ name tag shows that she is sat between Remus and Callum and opposite James, and Remus watches as Callum switches the tag in a way he must think is subtle as they enter. Right before they sit, Sirius finds her place and frowns, scanning the room before beckoning one of the waiting staff over and murmuring something in their ear. Callum is in the bathroom, and as Remus stands with Lily and one of their other uni friends, he watches as the waitress moves the name tags back to their original place. He sits down before Callum comes back.
The meal passes in a blur of rich food and rich wine and rich laughter. Remus finds his eyes getting pulled back to Sirius time and time again. The way her rings clink against her cutlery, the blood-red manicure and the way her fingers look as they tear into chunks of freshly-baked bread. The way she laughs, like she always has, head tilted back, the lighting reflecting off her teeth. He watches like a devotee the way she sips her wine, the way her throat works as she swallows. He wonders if this is how priests feel. It must be- if Sirius asks, he would give up all worldly goods just to follow her.
You are my altar, his heart sings. Let me lay myself at your feet. Let me give up all pleasures but yours. Keep me, his heart begs. Please, keep me.
After the dinner is a wobbly walk to a nearby bar, with half the group- mainly those with children- peel off and head home. The paired down party are ushered to a large table at the back, and supplied steadily with cocktails and pints and wine and soon Remus can’t stand up straight, or see straight. He settles himself next to Lily, and resolves not to move until it’s time to go home. She is wonderful company- witty and dry and cutting and curious and he can see so clearly why James worships the ground she walks on.
He resolutely ignores the way Sirius is bound up in Callum’s arms on the dancefloor, resting her head on his shoulder as he gently sways them from side to side. Remus has to admit they look good like this. In the strobe lighting of the bar, from far away. When Callum isn’t treating her like a child or querying her every decision, he almost fits the image of the doting boyfriend. If it weren’t for his boring outfit and the red roses and the plethora of other little things Remus has noticed and tucked away over the past few weeks, they almost- almost- seem like the perfect couple. But they aren’t. They can’t be, because Remus knows, he knows, that the perfect couple would be him up there, with Sirius in his arms like that, his hands gently tracing shapes on her back, his bed that they end up in at the end of the night. That’s perfect. He grabs another drink from the table and turns back to Lily.
**
Marlene and Dorcas stood side-by-side at Remus’ stove, working their magic as he set the table and Alice sat on the kitchen counter, drinking wine and offering less-than-helpful advice. They’d been staying with him for two days already, and he was having the time of his life. He had met all three of them at uni, and they had been his best mates and his sounding board for his whole time in Edinburgh, and having them back by his side again was like healing a wound he wasn’t even sure was there. The excitement of seeing James and Sirius again had only gone so far in distracting him from missing his old life, and he was glad he could bring the two halves together now.
The doorbell rang and Alice hopped up, skipping out of the room to answer it. “Hiya!” he could hear her excited shout from where he was in the kitchen. He drained his wine and poured himself another hefty glass, ignoring Marlene’s pointed comment about it. He loved his girls, and he loved James and Sirius, but he was suddenly terrified the two groups would not mesh well.
He had nothing to worry about. Sirius was rapidly accepted into the fold, Dorcas pulling her into the seat between her and Marlene so they could interrogate her about all things Remus, and Alice and James got on swimmingly. Everyone was enamoured by the enthusiasm with which James talked about Lily and Harry, and Dorcas and Marlene’s dinner was delicious.
“How’s Mary?” Remus asked through a mouthful, when there was finally a lull in the conversation.
“Same old, really. Misses you, desperately sorry she couldn’t come and visit, but you know how it is with Mary.”
“Yea, I miss her too. It's a shame.” Remus sighed
“Who’s Mary?” Sirius asked, reaching for her wine glass.
“Remus’ ex girlfriend.” Alice said, and Remus could feel himself blushing.
“We’re friends.” He said, firmly. “Good friends, now. But we used to date for a few years.”
“A few years?” Sirius asked, eyes wide. “How did I not know this?”
“We broke up ages ago, I don’t know. We’re just mates now. It feels weird to think about a time when we were more than that, you know?” Remus says, and Sirius is staring straight at him with a strange look on her face.
“For some reason Moony I sort of assumed you’d been living like a monk this whole time!” James said, winking at him.
Alice choked on her wine and spluttered out “Moony?” and Marlene choked on her pasta and spluttered out “a monk? Remus ‘slag’ Lupin?”
“What?” James roared over the table. “Remus ‘slag’ Lupin?” Remus felt his blush deepen and he buried his head in his hands. He kept opening his mouth to say something but nothing came. Marlene and James were crying with laughter, Marlene wacking him on the back to punctuate her laughter.
“Come on, Remus, what is it you always used to say?” Alice prompted, kicking him. Remus sighed, relaxing his shoulders back and finally facing his friends.
“My undergrad was a very illuminating experience for me, as was my masters, as was my PhD.” he quoted himself from one night when he was very drunk, his arm curled around Mary’s shoulders as she giggled silently into his sighed. They had worked so well together. They had started as best friends, and then almost like a tsunami, a five-year long wave of romantic and sexual love flooded their platonic love and they had given it a proper go, but then the wave receded, leaving behind only their platonic foundations, and they had both been happy with that.
James was wiping his eyes and Sirius was smiling but it looked pained and Remus retreated to the corridor to grab more bottles of wine from the rack. He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Alice lurking behind him. “Alright, Al?” he asked, passing her a few bottles of red.
“What’s Sirius’ deal, then?” she whispered, stepping closer. Remus sighed and leant against the wall.
“Sirius’ deal is that she has an arsehole boyfriend.” Remus hissed, closing his eyes. He felt a soft hand on his forearm.
“And?”
“And maybe I’ve been a little bit in love with her since I was fifteen.” Remus sighed, before shaking his head. “No- fourteen. I was fourteen.”
“Lots of wine for the slag tonight then, hmm?” Alice said, teasingly but soft, and Remus pulled her into his chest, kissing the top of her head.
“Need any… help?” Sirius was suddenly there, bright eyes darting between him and Alice, tucked together in the dark corridor, his lips in her hair. Alice cursed under her breath and stepped back.
“All good here!” she said brightly, slipping past them both and back to the kitchen. Remus knew that any amount of protesting couldn’t make Sirius realise that she hadn’t seen what she thought she had, so he just sighed and passed her another bottle of wine, and the two of them returned to the kitchen. Alice looked at him sympathetically over the table, and Remus rapidly set about drowning his sorrows in Asda's finest custard and rioja.
They retired up to his spacious sitting room after that, everyone admiring his new house. Alice curled up next to Marlene and Dorcas on one sofa, and Remus sat next to Sirius on another, whilst James left early. “Fatherhood waits for no man!” he called merrily as he left, winding his loud yellow scarf around his neck and setting off into the bracing late-november cold.
**
The wine bar they’d gone to was tiny, tucked away by the arnolfini. James and Lily had left early, Harry in tow, after the five of them had spent one of the most pleasant evenings of Remus’ life, sat at a rickety wooden table tucked into a stone alcove, sharing a bottle of red wine and a charcuterie board. Remus had never expected his life to look like this, but he loved it. He loved his students and his writing and his home and finally being back with James and Sirius. His father had always told him that uni was where people found their ‘real’ friends, but having James and Sirius back in his life felt right in a way that defied logic and transcended description.
Now it was just the two of them, sitting on the same side of the table, hidden from the rest of the establishment, like they were the only two people in the world. The conversation had turned nostalgic and reminiscent, with an undercurrent of sadness at the unspoken time they had spent apart.
“I think part of me might always have been waiting for you to come home. But then you released this book- this amazing, incredible book that affirmed all the talent I’d always known you had, and reading your words felt like coming home.” Sirius tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at Remus through her dark lashes. Her wine-pink cheeks were warm and inviting and they were so close her small was enveloping him and Remus wants. The wine has made her emotional and her eyes are lined with silver as she stares up at him.
“So I looked you up, right? As an author, and there were all these articles about you up in Scotland and everything you’d done for the local community, and I realised you had this incredible life there. I mean- you organised a campaign to open a new public library. You don’t do that for a city if you plan on leaving. And I finally made peace with the fact that you weren’t coming home, and you were big and famous now, and social media hadn’t existed when we left school but it did now so I thought maybe I could find you on there but then I realised I’d clearly left it too late, and reaching you now would be impossible because there would be so many people trying to access you.”
Remus slid his hand towards her, and she clutched at it like a child clutches their favourite teddy bear when they’d had a nightmare.
“And I finally made my peace with the fact that you weren’t coming home.” Sirius's voice broke, and the tears started spilling over, potent like clear liquor. Remus wondered where this speech was coming from. The sadness and tears seemed so at odds to the gaiety Sirius had displayed a mere hour ago when James and Lily and Harry had still been there. “And Callum had been asking me out for years and you were settled in another fucking country and I’d finally realised that, so I said yes. But you were all I could think about. I mean, the inscription in your book? The dedication? Fuck, I mean, for eight and a half years I’d thought you’d forgotten all about us, but there it was, like you’d written that book for me and James.”
“For the scars on my face…” Remus whispered. “And the people that put them there.” Sirius joined in with him, the cadence of their whispering harmonising perfectly.
“And then after nearly a year with Callum, a year of reading your words every single night before I went to sleep, a year of tracing my fingers over the dedication at night, I get a message from James telling me that you were coming back, and did I want to go to the pub with you.” Sirius is laughing incredulously through her tears now. “It was like, I put part of my life on hold for you, and the minute I stop you wander back in and fuck everything up!” Remus feels lost; cast adrift, flung over a cliff.
“I’m sorry, Sirius I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fuck anything up, I-” Then Sirius is launching herself at him and her warm, gloss-sticky lips are pressed against hers and her hands are clinging to his shoulders and Remus’ eyes are fluttering shut and his hands are coming up to cling to her hips. The stone wall behind him digs into his back and the music and chatter of the other patrons goes from low and comforting to grating as he realises what’s happening.
He pushes her away with first but gentle hands on her shoulders. “Sirius-”
“Shit, Remus, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” she’s crying again now, and Remus can’t help but admire how fucking pretty she is when she cries, how fucking beautiful she is all the time, but then he thinks of Callum and the way his arm looks around her shoulders and how they really should not have done what they just did.
“Let me walk you home.” Remus sighs and Sirius nods, suddenly struck silent, and she dons her coat and hat and scarf quickly and the two of them leave, walking arm's-length from each other through the cold streets and Remus can feel that something has changed and he hates it, hates it, hates it. Sirius is silent and he can see the guilt she’s feeling, can practically hear the cogs in her mind turning as her thoughts run a mile a minute.
He hopes with all his heart that nothing is ruined and they can wake up in the cold light of morning and move on like normal. He secretly hopes with all his heavenly soul and earthly body that the kiss inspired Sirius to end things with Callum and run into his waiting open arms instead, but as silent tears drip from the end of her nose and her hands shake as they fumble for her house keys, he’s not sure he’ll ever be so lucky.
“Thanks for walking me home.” her voice is quiet.
“Any time.” so is his.
“About earlier,” she says, one foot in her open doorway, the warmth of her home leaking out into the street. “I’m sorry. I know I initiated it, and it’s my fault, but that can’t happen again.” she pauses, looks at him, sighs.
“I’m sorry.”