Chapter 1
Sirius was content with the fact he would die at a very old age. He was satisfied that he had lived such a long and fruitful life at the ripe old age of 101; he was very mobile, and his mind had yet to wander and spiral as his friends had all those years ago. But Sirius was happy.
Sirius was old and wrinkled. And he needed a cane to move around the bungalow he shared with his great-nephew Draco. Life was predictable these days. Sirius would wake up to a freshly made breakfast and hobble his way over to the art studio, where he would paint portraits onto canvas. Draco always asked about the man Sirius always painted, the one with the scars and the vibrant amber eyes, but Sirius would never tell. He would never say to him about the man who was lost to the ocean 84 years ago…. Until today, Like always, breakfast was piping hot and on the table for 9 a.m., and by 9:15, Sirius was sitting in his studio finishing another canvas.
Draco potted around the house collecting glasses and general place tidying things. The small TV Draco insisted on getting was covering another dull story about a missing dog that finally made its way home. But it was quickly interrupted by a special report on the Titanic. Sirius scoffed. Why people were still obsessed with that boat was beyond him. The news anchor was far too giddy over the news than Sirius would have liked. Instead of calling Draco over, plus Sirius needed the exercise, so he hobbled over to the tiny TV. He was ready to switch the blasted thing off until a sketch appeared on the screen.
“I’ll be Damnd”, Sirius whispered into the house. Draco was quick to his side. Sirius rarely spoke during his painting time. So when he stirred, it always put his nephew on edge. He wasn’t in the mood to organise his favourite and eccentric uncle's funeral.
“What’s the matter, uncle?” Draco slinked his arm with Sirius, giving him extra support he didn’t really need
Draco gasped as the TV showed a scientist cleaning a page from a sketchbook of a young man in a very erotic pose accessorised with an abnormally sizeable heart-shaped necklace.
“Am I seeing things, or is that a younger version of you, Uncle?” Draco was mortified this wasn’t what he expected to see on the news, but Sirius sighed as his crooked old fingers grazed the fuzzy screen of the TV. Draco looked at his Great Uncles tired, stormy eyes as they glittered with remorse and longing.
The memory of Remus's scared flesh was vivid in his mind, the way his lips felt to kiss. Sirius bit back the tears as the crewman continued his speech. He was looking for the necklace. It seemed Sirius smirked; he knew where the ugly thing was. And Draco knew that smirk all too well. And as it would go, Sirius spoke to the lovely captain, explained that the lewd drawing was, in fact, of him, and he had information on the whereabouts of the heart of the ocean, the ugly ass necklace Sirius was wearing.
Draco was not surprised to find out that said phone call would lead to a helicopter ride out to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, something Draco didn’t expect. (his parents did warn him that Sirius had a way of getting into mischief, but that meant stealing or tax evasion using loopholes.)
“Uncle, are you sure this is a good idea? You’re 101. You really shouldn’t–”
“Don’t be such a prude, Draco. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Sirius grinned, peering out the tiny window at the vast expanse of the ocean, and just in the distance was a large vessel rigged with all kinds of gimmicks for launching boats. Something about life's little adventure made Sirius feel 30 years younger, and today was no exception. Draco, on the other hand, was on edge; his uncle could die at any moment and trying to explain to his family that, yes. Allowing a 100-year-old Titanic survivor to board a working ship that is currently looking for the Titanic isn’t the smartest of ideas, but it’s tough to convince him not to do something.
The boat of a hub of activity, Ron was chasing after Harry, trying to convince him to stop the crazy old man from boarding, but Harry’s mind was made up. After months of scouring the ocean floor for the wreck to then the painstaking hours it took to figure out where the safe was hiding, an actual living person who wore the heart of the ocean was about to drop some serious info.
“Harry, let’s be honest here. Sirius Black died on the Titanic at age 17, Right?” Ron huffed, jogging behind Harry, who was more focused on watching the blasted helicopter land on his ship.
“That's right.” Harry rolled his eyes, but Ron continued
“So that means this Sirius guy is well over 100!”
“He’s 101 in November, Ron; look, everyone who knows about this diamond is dead or on this boat. That very old liar knows about the diamond, so I’m taking the chance.”
Ron scrunched his face up, knowing full well that when Harry Potter made up his mind, he was not changing it, so Ron threw his hands in the air and helped land the giant stupid helicopter. The moment those wheels hit that white ‘H’, everything they all thought they knew about the heart of the ocean and the sinking of the Titanic was going to change forever.
Sirius’ smile didn’t falter. He was beaming, and it was contagious; Draco couldn’t help but mimic the smile he always enjoyed seeing his family happy, especially Sirius. After hearing everything his Great Uncle had been through, he was surprised he could still smile as brightly as the star Sirius was named after. The doors to the copter opened, and the oceanic breeze whipped around the cabin. The sting of salt and bitter, cool air really threw them into reality again; Sirius was transported back in time. The smell still hadn’t changed after all these years, and Draco was hyper-aware that he was stuck in the middle of the ocean.
“Gentlemen! Welcome aboard!” the very chipper voice of Captain Harry Potter drew their attention. Bright green eyes with a well-maintained beard and a mop of messy black hair poorly hidden under a blue knit beanie lit the dank helicopter cabin up as the sun personified.
“Mr Potter!” Sirius greeted back, extending an old crooked hand that Harry eagerly shook. “I knew your grandfather, the very loud man who had it off with my younger brother before settling down with your grandmother.”
“Uncle!” Draco hissed; his eyes went wide, mortified at how casual Sirius was as Harry helped him out of the helicopter and out onto the boat. Draco followed his uncle, swotting away Harry’s hand and handing him the fish bowl. “he insisted on bringing them.”
“He’s very mobile for 100 year old”, Harry joked, losing himself in Draco’s stormy eyes.
“He hasn’t got sea legs, so do with that information as you will. Draco.” Draco held out his hand, snatching the fish back, and Harry took it with a goofy grin on his face
“Pleasure is all mine, Draco.” Harry purred, making Draco blush.
Though the room that Harry set aside for Sirius wasn’t anything to write home about, it was definitely spacious. A simple bed with a dresser long enough for Sirius to set up a few photos, Draco rolled his eyes. Sirius couldn’t go anywhere without them; they were his most prized possessions, sacred memories of a well-lived life and a promise kept. Harry was in awe. The man in the older brown photos was the same one in the drawing, with curled hair, a sharp face and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Even the artist who drew Sirius managed to capture that twinkle in graphite.
“Well, Sirius, I do hope the room is to you’re liking.”
“It’s perfect, oh Draco. Have you met Mr Potter?” Sirius looked down at his nephew, who was shoving his uncle's suitcases under the bed.
“Yes, uncle, I did, and stop acting senile it’s rude.” Draco stood dusting himself off, looking at Harry with an apologetic look. Sirius just pulled a face at his nephew, making Harry snicker.
“It’s fine. Is there anything else I can you?”
“Yes! You can show me my drawing. I paid 20 shillings for it. I was devastated when I lost the damnd thing”.
The three stood around the onboard lab. A young woman with dark coiled hair laps the room multiple times, grabbing bottles and a tank filled with clear liquid and paper. She placed the tank on a lower table for Sirius to look down on; submerged was the drawing in all its glory, the lines and shadows as fresh as the day they were carved into the paper. Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut at the memory, the sounds of graphite scratching at the paper still new in his mind and how he remembered the lights bouncing off the amber eyes of the artist. He could still feel the weight and coolness of the diamond around his neck–
“One hell of a diamond.” Harry smiled, pulling Sirius out of his memory to show him an aged insurance photo of the necklace.
“Indeed it was, dreadful and heavy. I wore it once; it was supposed to have been a gift to my fiance”, Sirius sighed, still losing himself to the drawing.
“Do you really think this is you, uncle?” Draco scoffed
“It is me!” Sirius turned to look up at Draco with stones the platinum blond had never seen, but it quickly melted away; no matter what, Sirius could never escape that naughty side of himself. “Quite the dish, don’t you think, England's hottest bachelor?” Sirius winked at Harry, making Draco groan in embarrassment.
“We can’t argue with you there; you have been the talk of the ship since the drawing resurfaced, even had Hermione over here blushing.” Harry joked, looking over to the scientist, who replied with a displeased look.
“Well, that leads to my questions, I suppose, Doctor Granger, but Hermione is fine.” The dark-haired woman, Hermione, held out her hand that Sirius graciously accepted, kissing her knuckles, all gentlemanly. “as you would know, we’ve been tracking the diamond down through insurance claims, and I guess you would know who claimed the diamond?”
Sirius sat back in his chair, sighing. “It would have been Cygnus Black,” Sirius said the name with a hint of venom that surprised Draco; Sirius rarely spoke of his family. After he was pulled from the wreck of Titanic, he changed his name and ran away from the Black family; it took Draco 10 years to track Sirius down. Thanks to his great aunty Andromeda knowing what Sirius had done, Draco tracked him down, and the rest was history.
“That’s right, one of the patriarchs of the Noble English house of Black, ancient money.” Harry got down on his knee, reaching Sirius level. “the claim was made days after the Titanic sank, meaning it went down with the ship. You see the date here?” Harry points to the drawing again. Sirius bites back his knowing smirk, far too interested in what the sailors and scientists assume had happened that day.
“April 14th 1912… that's the day it sank, Right?” Draco asked, looking at Harry
.“Exactly! So if your Uncle is who he says he is, he was wearing the diamond the day the Titanic sank,” Ron started.
“And that makes you my new best friend.” Harry looked into Sirius's stormy eyes with a certain kind of hope men who are about to lose it all have. “So, are you ready to go back to the Titanic, Sirius?”
Sirius was intrigued by all the fancy monitors showing footage of past explorations of the wreck. Even the CGI re-enactment that the Ginger boy Ron was waffling on about. To be honest, Sirius had switched off from Rons over excited re-cap of the sinking after the five compartments filled with water. Why on earth was the boy explaining it? He had no idea; he was there when the bloody thing happened! Sirius looked around, spying Draco, bored, leaning his head on his hand and Harry Potter, chin resting on his arms as he sways on his swivel chair. Harry’s Green eyes caught lingering on Draco. When Ron finally got to the end, Sirius was very much ready for an afternoon nap, but he had to enter the people he supposed.
“Well, thank you for that very forensic analysis, Mr Weasly, though the real-life experience was something.. different.”
Harry perked up from his chair. “Would you share it with us?”
Sirius sighed, getting up from his chair; Draco straightened, watching his uncle's every move. Sonars beeped out, and the radio chatter filled the silence as Sirius wandered over to a monitor showing footage of the decaying carcass of the Titanic. Sirius watched it as the footage showed a doorway. He knew that doorway, and it all started to come back to him: the smell of fresh paint, the sounds of violins playing a simple harmony. He could even remember the faces of the men who opened those ornate oak wood doors, their happy faces and the new White Star Liner uniforms they had on.
Sirius choked on tears, taking a step back. Draco was quick to his side, “I’m going to take him to rest. It’s been–”
“No! I'm fine.” Sirius pulled out of Draco's weak grip, pulling up a chair and sitting down; he took a deep breath, waiting for Draco to settle back into his seat. “It’s been 84 years.” Sirius started; the rest of the crew hurried around, finding somewhere to sit. Ron handed a recording device to Harry, knowing that Sirius was going to tell a memory that even Draco hadn’t heard before.
“It’s been 84 Years. Titanic was called the ship of dreams…”
Liverpool 1912
Sirius was trapped, literally and figuratively, and he was about to be imprisoned on a floating hunk of metal in the middle of the Atlantic for days. He was trapped in a small car with his newly married cousin Narcissa and her insufferable cunt of a husband Lucius Malfoy, along with his vial Aunt Druella and her husband. Still, to top it all off, Sirius was about to be trapped into a loveless marriage with some girl he was meeting on the ship.
“Oh, do cheer up, Sirius; it’s not every day you get a free luxurious trip to America”, Lucius sneered, helping Narcissa out of the car. Sirius looked up at the Titanic, grimacing at the size of it before Lucius was dragging him by the elbow up the wooden ramp. Sirius tried to protest, but he didn’t want to cause a scene and feel the wrath of his Uncle Cygnus. His whole life and Regulus' future depended on him marrying this random woman.
RMS Titanic, the ship of Dreams and Sirius, was about to enter its nightmare.
On the other side, in a small pub overlooking the dock, was a very intense game of poker; riding on the table was a third-class ticket for the RMS Titanic, a family pocket watch and £100, 20 shillings and 3 pence. And only one winning hand. Remus Lupin is a beat-up, scared street rat with a passion for still-life portraits and somehow winning the game. With a poker face like no other, Remus stared at his full house, and it was time to announce all bets had been placed. The pub was buzzing, and the Swedish guy who put his ticket on the line called the chances to end. A small, stout boy no older than Remus bit his lip; he had nothing. His face showed that to the rest of the players like an open book.
“Well, Pettigrew?” Remus smirked, looking at his current companion. He closed his eyes, sighing, throwing his poor hand to the table; he had nothing. Remus schooled his face to a neutral calm; that ticket was his as long as the other two guys had nothing. One after the other, the hand of nothing and, Remus hissed. Two pairs the swede had two pairs. Not like it mattered, though, as Remus smirked, slamming down the unfortunate hand of a full house!
“Well, it’s been nice staying here with you lot, but I have a fucking boat to catch America here I fucking come, lads!” Remus jeered to the crowd as the pub erupted into cheers. Remus was a regular, a well-known local artist and dreamer. Remus squirrelled away his money and bolted out to the streets towards the floating hunk of unsinkable metal.
The dock was lined with people from all walks of life, mothers and daughters bidding farewell to their husbands, sons and fathers as they embarked on the journey of a lifetime working under the luxurious White Star Liner name. And grandparents were wishing safe travels to newlywed grandchildren. Remus felt his parents were looking down on him with proud smiles. He was finally making it to America. He ran through the crowds and up to the final ramp, which was already being pulled away as he ran up to the crew members waving his ticket.
“Wait!” he cried out. The men stopped, and Remus handed over his ticket, smiling with pride. “You see, I have a spot.”
“Have you been through the health checks?” the other crewman asked, taking in Remus’ scruffy appearance and scars. He was rough-looking, but his hygiene was a top priority. The Matron at the Art college he stayed at for three weeks made sure of it. “All right, get on”, Remus smiled, jumping onto the ship. The hallway was filled with passengers finding their rooms, but Remus didn’t care. He wanted to wave goodbye to England.
Titanic blew her mighty horn, signalling her final departure; Sirius felt his heart sink further as he walked along the deck, savouring the aloneness. He watched as everyone waved their goodbyes, shouting down to family and strangers along the dock as the sailors untied the ship. Sirius felt sick as each mooring line was hoisted off and thrown back to the ship, and the tug boats on the other side gave out their energetic hoots of excitement. Sirius could jump off right now and make the headlines, but what's the point?
Sirius felt the Titanic jolt into motion. He took that as his cue to head back inside to his insufferable family and his annoying–
“Fuck! I am so sorry, mate, here let me.” A scarred hand appeared in front of Sirius's face, the flesh a shade darker than his, the shade of a working man if that didn’t give it away. The grit and, shabby-looking clothes and atrocious Welsh accent made an impression. Sirius smacked the hand away, picking himself up and meeting his ambushers– beautiful eyes, the same colour and glow as the ambers he saw in the history museum. His lopsided grin to the crookedness of his nose, a clear sign he had seen a brawl or two and his scars and freckles. Sirius was mesmerised by the man before him like the moon personified.
Remus let his eyes wander around the grand top deck interior, trying to avoid the steely gaze of the man in front of him. He was definitely attractive, that was for sure, like a porcelain doll with inky black hair and beautiful hands. And such sharp features–
“Yes, well, do you mind where you go next time?” his voice was wavey as if he was entrapped by something, but the beautiful raven-haired man left himself off and entered a lift, leaving Remus alone. His amber eyes lingered too long on that lift, hoping the pale, handsome man would remerge, but he didn’t. Probably for the best, he thought. A street rat like him had no chance with a First class wanker; that's just how the world worked. So Remus sighed and headed to the deck sketchbook in hand.
Sirius mulled around his stateroom, waiting for his luggage to arrive, specifically a crate of artwork he purchased in london. The stateroom had awful decor, exposed wood finished walls, and glass lamps that looked dated; what his rooms needed were paintings, and these paintings would take his mind off the moon boy that pushed him over. The very handsome moon boy with the amber eyes– a knock sounded at the door. Oh good, his bags are here…
“Well, isn’t this the height of luxury Druella” Cygnus scoffed as he breezed into the room, acting like he owned the damned ship, and his ugly pug-faced wife followed, turning her nose up at the sight of her nephew.
“Indeed, you are very fortunate, Sirius,” Druella drawled as star-liner staff wheeled in a crate of paintings and suitcases. Sirius didn’t care; he ignored his family, investing his interest in putting up paintings until the safe came in. Sirius stopped as deckhands asked his uncle where to place it. Before he could reply, Sirius suggested his room would be best, earning a disgusted look.
“Uncle Alphard entrusted the safe to me. He is the head of the household, not you or father, and I am his heir.”
“And you're still a boy- barely of age.” Druella’s face soured even more. A vile, violent, wicked look pierced Sirius as she stormed up to him, squeezing his face and tilting it back, her black nails digging into his cheeks. “You may be the heir, but remember who paid for your ticket on this boat and how embarrassing it would be for the family if the word were to get out”, Druella sneered, pushing Sirius away. You would think those who bore the Black family name, even through marriage, would be loyal. Still, Cygnus and Druella would throw the family's reputation in the water for their gain after being written out of Alpahrds will like Orion and Walburga. They had a safety net if the Black family was to fall. Three daughters and two married very reputable men in high society; Narcissa, the youngest, married Lucius Malfoy, some gimp whose fortune is tied up in some sort of economy that Sirius couldn’t care to listen about and Bellatrix, psychotic as she is, Bellatrix married into the Lestrange family, known for their ties to the malicious crime syndicates of london they were untouchable. As an engagement gift to Sirius, Bella gave him a guard, Fenrir Greyback, an angry, ugly, wolfish-looking man with an affinity for firearms and a drinking problem.
“Now, now, Mother”, Narcissas’ sickly, sweet voice sang through. “Let’s not forget who paid for your spot on this fine ship.” Sirius may not like his cousins, but he couldn’t hate Narcissa or Andromeda. Bella? Yes, he can hate her with his last dying breath, but he tolerated Narcissa's enough. She was brilliant; she played her parent's games and knew full well they relied upon her husband's fortune more than Bellatrix’s dodgy crime money.
“Oh, what lovely paintings, Sirius; they do brighten up the room. may we borrow one?” Narcissa batted her eyes at Sirius, icing her parents out as they left muttering to themselves.
“If you wish... Why are you here, Cissy?”
“You’re invited to tea with the designer of the ship; he caught wind of your artistic eye, plus he wanted to meet the person staying in the expensive parlour suites.”
Sirius hummed at the thought of it, “Fine, I shall meet for tea. When is it?”
“Oh, about 10 minutes ago; Lucius is waiting for us, do be nice to him.” Her voice was quiet and shallow
“I will when he stops hitting you.” Sirius stopped looking at Narcissa. She rolled her eyes.
“Then you better marry that woman then. Or find someone you love. Alphard's will was vague: as long as you marry, the family fortune is yours.”
“I know.” Sirius sighed, linking his arm with his cousin as they made their way to the tea rooms.
Tea was surprisingly not as dull as Sirius expected it to be. Lucious was faltering and stumbling at every question being thrown at him by a very loud American woman by the name of Marlene Mckinnon. Her partner struck gold in Texas and was considered new money. If Sirius were to act like his family, he would have avoided the loud blonde like the plague, but he wasn't anyone bit like them and insisted she stayed with the table.
“Say, Bruce. who came up with the name Titanic?” Marlene started looking over at the slender man at the head of the table who was trying to avoid getting icing in his bushy moustache.
“Well, yes, it was my idea; you see, I wanted to convey its sheer size, and size means stability, luxury and most of all strength.” Mr. Bruce Ismay smiled at his explanations and brilliant idea. Sirius rolled his eyes. How fucking pretentious.
“Do you know of Doctor Freud, Mr. Ismay?” Sirius started sitting up in his seat. Lucius narrowed his eyes at his cousin-in-law. Whatever Sirius was about to say will not end well. “His ideas on male preoccupation with size might be of interest to you. Honestly, quite an eye-opening read if I do say so.” Sirius smirked with innocence. Narcissa pursed her smile, hiding it in her cup of chai whilst Marlene’s chuckle bounced her into an ugly yet humorous cackle. “If you would excuse me, Ladies, Gentlemen.” Sirius got up, leaving the table.
“Your cousin is quite the pistole there”, Marlene composed herself, smiling; Lucius just sneered.
“Indeed, if you will excuse me, I do apologise, gentlemen.” Lucius follows Sirius's wake. He was leaving Mr. Ismay, Marlene and Narcissa at the table. Bruce looked awfully confused, wondering who the Freud fellow Srius spoke about was.
Sirius emerged onto the stern deck, leaning on the bars, flipping open his cigarette book and lighting himself a stick of relief. He took a long drag, savouring the sting of tobacco on the back of his throat. Sirius looked out to the deck below, third-class passengers out enjoying the fresh spring sun and children playing with a ball, and just off to the starboard side, peering up at him with those amber eyes again, was the moon boy. Sirius stole a glance at the boy as he sketched and scribbled in his sketchbook. Their eyes met, shit. Sirius quickly looked away.
Remus could feel that steely gaze on him again. He looked up a second time, smirking at the handsome porcelain man on the deck. HA! Remus had made the first-class wanker blush and drop his cigarette. Their eyes locked again, and something inside Remus started to burn. Like a small fire, just an ember burned through him as their eyes closed. He didn’t quite understand the feeling or the pull this raven-haired beauty had on him, but Remus needed to talk to him, learn his name, kiss his perfect cupid bowed lips, and feel those delicate hands all over his body—
Remus frowned as a blond man stormed onto the deck, pulling Sirius away subtly. They were talking about something; he couldn’t quite catch what it was, but it didn’t seem pleasant.
As day swiftly turned to night, passengers found themselves retreating inside as the fierce cold sea breeze blew in. Remus didn’t mind it; he welcomed it like an old friend. He wasn't too shy for the cold nights living on the streets of Paris. Remus lay on the bolted-down bench, savouring the warmth from his cigarette as he looked up at the stars. Though Remus had seen it countless times before, the stars seemed to glow a little brighter and even more beautiful out in the vast ocean. It was peaceful, the sound of the ship cutting through the water and barely audible crew members cleaning the deck. Remus would sleep in the room he won, but the night sky just felt more inviting as he drifted off into that semi-conscious sleep.
Sirius felt sick; the diner was an overwhelming nightmare, the same conversation the dull 3 piece suite of music. Sirius mind couldn't help but spiral; somehow, the ship of dreams was portraying his misery and future and life all in one go. He would never escape this boring, tedious life. So Sirius did what he knew best. He ran.
He slipped out of the dining room with grace and stealth and swiftly paced himself into a sprint all the way down to the stern of the ship. Tears were running down his face as his heart took his body. Sirius mind continued to race. He wanted to die; he didnt like that life. He wanted more. He wanted an escape.
Sirius reached the end of the Titanic; he looked out, and all that was there was the ocean; no one was there on the deck with him. And no one saw him leave. He could just slip away quietly from the splash that would sound… if it would sound. Sirius climbed over the rails, looking down at the frothed water from the propellors. “will a body make a splash if no one was there to see it fall?” Sirius choked on a sob.
“Yes”, a familiar Welsh voice called out. Sirius turned around to look at him. Mr. Amber eyes the moon personified. “Don’t jump”, his voice was full of concern and wavey. Sirius just tilted his head, looking down at himself. Oh. Sirius, in a fit of blind sadness, had climbed over the rails. Right. He was about to commit suicide…
“Don’t come any closer!” Sirius shouted. Remus frowned, inching closer to the exact thing Sirius didn’t want, but his grip was tight on the cold metal bars.
“Come on”, Remus held out his hand “, just take my hand, and I’ll help you over.”
“NO!” Sirius's voice was trembling as he adjusted his grip. “You stay right there; I mean, I will let go.”
Remus stopped calculating his next move. He swiftly took the last drag, flicking it into the ocean and letting Sirius watch his every action as he pocketed his hands and moved slowly closer to Sirius.
“You won’t.” Remus bit the inside of his cheek as he let his poker face slip; he was scared for the unnamed man handing on the outside of the boat, so what best to do than call his bluff.
“What do you mean I won’t!” Sirius hissed, insulted. “Don’t presume to tell me if I will or will not jump from this boat. You don’t know me.”
“Well, you would have done it already.” Remus faced the ocean, not bothering to look at Sirius but giving him sly side eyes as he rocked on his heels
“Yes, well, your fucking distracting me! Know bugger off!”
“Can’t”
Sirius scoffed, spluttering to find the words
“I’m involved, so if you jump, I'm just going to have to jump in after you”, Remus huffed, taking off his jacket and moving to his boots. Sirius watched a little too closely, his mouth agape as Remus shrugged his coat off, revealing more of his tanned, toned forearms. Sirius got caught staring as Remus met his steely grey eyes, giving him a cheeky wink.
“Don't be absurd! You would be killed.”
“I'm a good swimmer.” Remus lifted his leg up, his slacks raising, showing off his calf and ankle. Sirius was really done for now; why was the way the moon personified was taking off his boots so erotic!? No. No! He can not have his body found with a pissin' boner. That would be mortifying. “You know, that water is going to be really cold. And I hate cold water. This one time when my family were visiting the States, we went ice fishing– do you know-”
“I know what ice fishing is”, Sirius scoffed.
“Okay, well, I fell through some thin ice, and let me tell you, water that cold. It hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body; you can’t breathe or think. All you can focus on is the pain.” Remus reached the railing, looking at the freezing water below the memorise fresh in his mind. Sirius's grip tightened on the railing. “Witch is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But I don’t have a choice.” Remus ripped his wollen waistcoat off. Sirius’ eyes went a little wider, and his mouth opened slightly. “So, will you come back over and get me off the hook?” Sirius whipped his read round to look out at the ocean again
“You’re crazy!” Sirius hissed, but Remus just scoffed
“I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship; just give me your hand. You do not want to do this.”
He was right, fuck! The stupid scarred boy with the pretty amber eyes was right. He didn’t want to fucking do this. Sirius trembled as he took Remus’ hand. Sirius turned to face Remus, his cheeks stained with tears and his eyes red; Remus let out a breath and a cautious smile.
“I’m Remus Lupin”
“Sirius Orion Black the third”
Remus snaked his arms around Sirius, giving him extra support. “I'm going to need you to write that down,” he huffed. Sirius snorted, trusting Remus to hold him tight.
Sirius raised his foot onto the railing. But fate intervenes at the last moment; his shoe slips, causing Sirius to lose his footing and slip down further, screaming.
“I got you!”
“Don’t let go of me.” Sirius looked down and back up at Remus, begging, “Please.”
“I won’t. I promise I won’t let go. Come on, grab the railing, pull yourself up.”
Sirius nodded, using what strength he had to pull himself back up
Remus reacted quickly, keeping a firm hold on Sirius as he hoisted him back over the railings and onto the boat, but the commotion Sirius caused had a group of sailors and the master of arms at the scene in seconds.
Sirius sat on the bench, shrouded in a blanket. Marlene was there offering him brandy, and Narcissa was hugging him, asking if he was okay, but all Sirius cared about was Remus. The man who just saved his life and ultimately fell in love with. Remus let master in his arms hand, cuff him as Lucius sneered and spat in his face, calling him every slur under the sun. Sirius scrunched up his face. Enough of this shit.
“Lucius, stop!” Sirius stood up. “Leave him alone; if it wasn’t for Mr Lupin, I would have been overboard by now.” Remus looked over at Sirius. “I mean it; I wanted some air, and I was integrated by the propellors. I was looking too closely and slipped.”
The master in arms tugged at Remus's arms. “Is this true, lad?” Remus nodded
“Yes, sir.” The master in arms seemed content with the answer and released Remus. Lucius just sneered again.
“Well, it seems Mr. Lupin is a hero!” Marlene tried to ease the tension, helping Narcissa up and becoming a shaken Sirius to her as Lucius began to walk away. “and that would mean a generous thank you should be in order, don’t you, Sirius?” Marlene looked over at her new friend, who nodded
“Yes, come on, cousin, do pay the nice boy for saving me. I would but–”
“” Of course, £20 should cover it. Greyback,” Lucius's voice dripped with venom as he snapped his fingers, but Sirius scoffed
“£20 the going rate for saving the heir to the family fortune?” Sirius scoffed, watching as Lucius twitched under the pressure of countless witnesses. He forced a smile, turning on his heel to look at Remus again
“Why don’t you join us for dinner and share your heroic tale among the others and dosed £100 to settle the score?”
Remus smirked, putting his hands in his pockets. “fine by me.”
“Then it’s settled. Come along. We have had quite the evening.” the party leaves, and Marlene and Narcissa link their arms with Sirius, who looks back at Remus one last time, giving him a smile.
Remus slicked back his hair, sighing. He watches as Greyback, the wolfish brute and bodyguard, lingers. He snarls at Remus, lighting a cigarette.
“In’restin how your shoelaces are undone and your jacket was off, you might want to be careful. Pup”
Remus kept his eyes on Greyback as he snatched two cigarettes from his silver book, putting one behind his ear and lighting the other, watching Greyback leave.
“Ugly cunt” Remus whispered to the sea.