Sirius had left Grimmauld Place two years ago, Regulus a year later. Two years wasn’t that long, but to Sirius it’d felt like he’d been here his whole life. Most days he could go the whole day without any part of Grimmauld Place crossing his mind but some days - even with his lifetime of memories of the Potter Manor - Grimmauld and all its inhabitants creep their way back into his mind and set up camp for the day or longer. Those days are his worst but he manages through them. He always manages through them. But, there’s some things that don’t stay for a day or so and leave, there's some things that hold onto him and stick around no matter how many days or weeks it’s been. Things; like the way Regulus talks to Dotti the house elf as if she was Kreacher. Things; like how Fleamont’s favourite hobby was one of Orion’s only hobbies. Things; like how Euphemia sometimes wears this one shawl that is so terrifyingly similar to one of Walburga’s. Things; like how James would whisper small things to Regulus about never leaving him and all Sirius could hear is his own younger voice’s echo.
Things; like the maple grand piano Fleamont moved into his room. When he’d first gifted it to him, Sirius couldn’t play a single note without feeling like he was paying homage to his mother. Piano was one of the only things he actually liked about grimmauld, he and Regulus would sit and play it for hours. Sirius only ever saw Regulus truly happy when they were there, so he’d grown to love it. When Fleamont had given it to him, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Some part of him was over the moon that he’d get to play again, maybe even bring Regulus in with him. The other part could practically feel his mother’s looming presence behind him anytime he slightly brushed a key, he could hear her shrill voice telling him his notes were off or too fast or his posture wasn’t sophisticated enough. At some point, he’d decided he wouldn’t play anymore. That being until James had talked him out of that decision.
James had walked into his room that day and seen the piano covered over by a thin blanket with books stacked on top of it. “Alright?” He’d asked.
“Right, you?” Sirius had replied, acting like he didn’t see James staring at the piano.
“Yeah. What’s with the books?”
“People tend to read ‘em, Prongs.” Sirius quipped.
“Yeah, I wasn’t aware that was something you could do.” James joked, sitting down on Sirius’ bed next to him. “But seriously, what’s with the piano?”
“Not in the mood to play.” SIrius replied blandly.
“I can see that but whys it look like you’re packing it away for good?” James pressed.
“Because I am.”
“What? Why? You said you loved it?”
“I do.” Sirius brushed him off.
“Then why are you packing it away?” Sirius had known it’d be his next question but actually hearing it stumped him.
“I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? You can’t just throw away a present and not know why.” James argued.
“I don’t like how boring songs on the piano are.” Sirius decided.
“Haven’t you ever heard an Elton John song? They’re nowhere near boring. Play some piano rendition of Bowie on there.” James supplied.
“Mother would-” Sirius stopped himself before he could finish. His mother would hate that. She only ever used to let him play these high classical pureblood written songs with dark meanings because apparently that meant it was real music. He always used to hate how he had no control over what he played, it was always her music. Her pureblood music that left him feeling soulless. He hadn’t even thought before then that he could play something that wasn’t hers. The second James had pointed it out to him he’d rushed him out of the room and began learning his favourite songs.
From then on, every time he played his piano he only played songs he liked. The feeling of his mother slowly but surely drained out of his music, only rarely could he feel her perched behind him.
Every song Sirius played had heart to it, he couldn’t help but sit there and waste hours imagining what made it have that. He often found himself stuck on love songs, wasting away at his piano thinking about how the artist could paint a perfect picture of their love. He wanted to write his own song one day but he never did because he was scared it would feel soulless, like a song his mother would hear and call ‘astounding’. If he were to ever make anything, he’d make something that had a heart. But to write a song that had heart you had to feel something so deeply it’d pass onto your paper when you wrote. Sirius didn’t feel anything deep enough to pass it onto music.
Sirius had gotten obsessed with piano love songs. Every record shop they went to he looked for songs that he couldn’t help but feel. Remus once bought him a record from a lady named Aretha Franklin, Sirius had gone home and binged listened to it. All the songs were amazing but one song really stuck in his mind. For the next week he’d played ‘I May Never Get To Heaven’ on repeat. If Sirius was to point out one song that could never feel soulless it’d be that one. No matter how many boring people got their hands on it, he could still feel it. Because Remus was the one who’d bought it for him, he couldn’t help but think of him every time he listened to it. Remus just fit the song so perfectly, who else could he possibly think of when he hears it.
It was that thought process that got him sat at his piano with a quill and parchment. Moony. Sirius didn’t have any big profound love story he could turn into some beautiful song everyone would want to play on repeat but he did have something close to it. Moony. His friendship with Remus was so important to him. Yes, Peter and James still meant so much to him but it was different with Moony, maybe it was just because Remus understood his life more and knew how to relate to it in ways Wormy and Prongs never could. So, of course Moony would be the first song he ever wrote, it’s only fair.
Sirius didn’t know the first thing about writing a song, the only person he knew that could help him at all was Regulus. Not because he’s necessarily ever written a song, just because he plays a tonne of instruments, which basically qualifies him as a professional songwriter.
Sirius invited himself into Regulus’ room and laid down on his bed to annoy him. “Reg.” Regulus didn’t reply, still looking down at his book. “Reggie.” Regulus kicked his side, pushing him off the bed. “Regulussss.” Sirius whined.
“What? What do you want, you nuisance.” Regulus sighed.
“Tell me how to write a song.”
“Why would you think I know how to do that? Why do you want to know?” Regulus questioned.
“You would know because you play like 7 instruments and I need to know because I’m writing a song for Moony.” Sirius answered as if it was obvious.
Regulus sprung up, “I’m sorry- A song for Remus? Did I miss something?”
“He’s my best friend and I needed song inspiration, all caught up?”
“...Sure?”
“How do I start writing a song?” Sirius asked again.
“I don’t know.” Regulus clearly lied, so Sirius lied too.
“Oh, so that song you wrote James was plagiarised?” Sirius quirked his eyebrow at him.
“What? No. I wouldn’t do that, don’t you dare tell him that, I swear to Godrick, Sirius. How do you even know about that?” Regulus fumed.
“I didn’t know, but now I do. How’d you do it? Where’d you start?” Sirius pressed.
“I don’t know, it’s different for everyone.”
“I’ll tell James you didn’t actually write the song. I’ll say it’s an unreleased Elton John song.” Sirius threatened.
“You asshole. Fine. When I wrote the song for James I was just playing around on the violin, until I made something that sounded like him.” Regulus explained while glaring at his brother.
“Sounded like him? What does that even mean?” Sirius laughed.
“It means that when I played it, I couldn’t think of anything but James. Learnt enough? Can you piss off now? I was busy.” Regulus rolled his eyes. Sirius got up and wrapped his arms around Regulus who pushed him away immediately, “Go before I kill you.” Sirius placed a gross over exaggerated kiss to his cheek before getting punched in the stomach.
“Worth it.” Sirius yelled before running off from his now pissed off brother.
Sirius ran back to his room and sat at his piano the second he got in there. He played with the keys for a while jumping from the highest notes to the lowest. After a while of playing around and finding nothing, he felt demotivated. He sat at his piano staring out his window at the grey sky that was pillowed with dark clouds and harsh rain, looking out at it all he could think of was Remus. Remus loved the rain, anytime it rained he’d pull Sirius outside. Sirius would protest a little at first and complain about the cold but would always give in because walking around in the rain with Remus compensated for everything. Sirius stared out at the rain while mindlessly playing with keys, his fingers skittered their way across the board before he steadied them to a slower rhythm. G, G/D, G, G/D, G, G/D, G, G/D. Sirius liked the sound of it. It sort of felt like him. Sirius repeated the sequence but this time he hummed along with it. Still staring out of the window Sirius let himself get carried into the tune and began to improvise the rest. His fingers grazed across the keys creating a beautiful melody. Before he’d known it he’d made himself a little song and it felt exactly like what he wanted it to feel like… Remus, in the rain, in his vests and white undershirts folded up to his upper arms. Remus, pulling Sirius along with him. Remus, laughing wildly while pushing wet hair out of his eyes. Remus, not caring for the time of day or the darkness outside, only caring that Sirius sat across from him and the rain coated them safely. Remus, Remus, Remus.
Sirius wrote all the notes down quickly, not wanting to forget a single bit of it. All he missed now was words. Words. Merlin, why are there so many words? How are there so many words yet not enough to fit all of Remus in them? Words. Sirius was looking through his mind for anything to say but all his mind could think of was how much of a struggle it is to fit Remus down to a few words. English doesn’t have the words to fully fit Remus but French does. Sirius sat at his piano till all the light outside vanished and all the light in his room came from a single candle on his window sill. It’d taken hours but he’d finally gotten it down. A song that felt like Remus.
“Je te laisserai des mots
En-dessous de ta porte
En-dessous de les murs qui chantent
Tout près de la place où tes pieds passent
Cachés dans les trous de ton divan
Et quand tu es seule pendant un instant”
~ translation ~
(I’ll leave the words
Underneath your door
Under the singing walls
Near the place where your feet pass by
Hidden in the holes of your sofa
And when you’re alone for a moment)
It was almost perfect, it just felt a little empty. Sirius had an idea of how to fix it but Remus would probably hate it. But it’s not like the part he wants to add is necessarily about Remus, just because the rest of the song is about Remus doesn’t mean this part has to be. Really, it just fits the feeling of the song. It fits the feeling of Remus. It fits him but it doesn’t mean it’s about him…
“Ramasse-moi
Quand tu voudras
Embrasse-moi
Quand tu voudras
Remasse-moi
Quand tu voudras”
~ translation ~
(Kiss me
Whenever you want
Kiss me
Whenever you want
Kiss me
Whenever you want)
Sirius played through his song one more time with its new lyrics intending on going to sleep afterwards but wanting to feel Moony before he slept. So, he played through it again but this time he played it with every part of him, as if Remus sat right there, as if Remus was watching with the eyes of a poet, as if Remus would log it to his memory for safe keeping. When Sirius’ song faded to a stop he was met with a sniffle by the door and the soft motherly eyes of Euphemia Potter staring down at him. He immediately straightened up, feeling like he’d just exposed something of himself that was far too personal for anyone to see.
“That was beautiful, Sirius. The person you wrote it for must be lovely.” She smiled at him sweetly.
“What makes you say that? I mean, he’s alright.” Euphemia’s eyes lit up.
“Well, he must be lovely if you wrote something that beautiful, you must love him a lot.” Effy looked down at him with proud eyes.
“Well yeah, it’s about Remus.” Sirius replied, smiling brightly back up at her.
Effy’s eyes widened, “Remus? I didn’t realise you two were together.”
Sirius shot up, “What? Together? No, he’s my best friend. Did you think it was a love song?”
“Well… yes but it’s okay, it still works just as well when it’s not a love song.” She assured.
Sirius stood staring at her in awe, “Do you think he’d think it was a love song, too?”
“No, no, maybe it was just me.” She laughed awkwardly.
“Well- well let’s just say he did think it was a love song… would he like it?” Sirius didn’t know what answer he wanted to get.
“It was beautiful, I think anyone would like that to be written about them but, aside from that, I think that boy would like anything you did.” She laughed softly.
“Would he write me something back?” Sirius asked, looking up at her as if she held the key to the universe.
“Remus writes music? You’re all surprising me with all these hidden talents.” She laughed.
“Nah, Moony doesn’t write songs. He writes poems though, he never lets me read them. Would he write me one? If I showed him this and he thought it was a love song, would he write me one?” Sirius didn’t know why he wanted this so bad, but he did.
“Maybe? Sirius, I don’t know everything. I’m flattered you think I’m some all knowing being but I am far from it.” She joked.
“I know, I know but one last question. Would it be a love song too? Or would it at least feel like one?” Sirius couldn’t block the pleading tone in his voice.
“That’s two questions.” Effy laughed. “Anything can be a love song, Sirius. As long as the listener is thinking of their love, it can be a love song.”
“Do you think I could make it feel like one, Effy?”
“I don’t think you’d need to.” she smiled knowingly, as if she’d told a killer joke and watched Sirius misunderstand it.
“What do you mean? Why won’t I need to?”
“Oh, no reason.” Effy squatted down to Sirius’ level to look him in the eyes, ”Sirius, play your song for Remus.”
“I can’t do that, he’d find it awkward.”
Effy bought her hand up to Sirius’ cheek, “Please. I really think he’d like it… and I think he really needs to hear something like that.”
Effy looked like she really believed Remus would like it, how was Sirius supposed to doubt that? So he agreed and said he’d call him tomorrow to hang out. Sirius would’ve backed out if he hadn’t told Effy he’d do it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remus has been at the manor for the past two hours and Sirius still hasn’t been able to play him the song. It’s not like there's been no time to play it, they’ve been alone laying on Sirius’ bed for the past hour. Remus was humming quietly while reading next to Sirius. He was humming his favourite Bowie song, Prettiest Star.
“Moony?” Sirius asked.
“Mhm.” Remus looked up from his book.
“Whatcha readin’?”
“Carrie by Stephen King.” Remus closed his book up and bookmarked the page.
“What’s it about?” Sirius shuffled in closer to Remus on the bed.
“Some crazy lass who can move shit with her mind, she kills her mum and classmates.” Remus said matter of factly.
“That’s… dark.” Sirius smiled awkwardly.
“It’s a great book, you’d like it. Want it after I’m done?” Remus always offered Sirius his books knowing he never says yes.
“I’m alright.” Sirius answered blandly.
“Alright, what’s up?” Remus finally asked, Sirius was scared he’d actually have to kick this conversation off himself.
“What do you mean?” Just because he wants to have the conversation doesn’t mean he’s going to make it an easy conversation to have.
“You’ve been staring at me for the past thirty minutes, Seren.” Remus rolled his eyes.
(Seren means star in welsh)
“Maybe I was looking at the wall behind you or maybe I just like looking at you. Gosh, mind your business, Moony.” Sirius smiled slyly.
“Alright.” Remus pretended to reach for his book to start reading again.
“Will you ever let me read one of your poems?” Sirius asked.
“No.” Remus actually looked down at his book, blocking Sirius out.
“Why not?”
“Because they’re personal.” Remus explained.
“Are they love poems?” Sirius didn't know why he felt so hopeful.
“Does it matter?”
“Have you ever written a poem for someone?” Sirius asked, making Remus tense up a little.
“A few times.” Remus admitted.
“I wrote you a song.” Sirius confessed.
Remus looked up at him with wide eyes, “What? Me? You write songs? Explain.”
“It’s my first song and you were the first thing I could think to write on, so I did.” Sirius explained.
Remus’ cheeks flushed, “Can I hear it?”
“Can I read one of your poems?” Sirius pressed.
“You have to play me your song first.” Remus bargained.
“Deal.” Sirius stuck out his hand reluctantly, acting as if this wasn’t his plan from the start. Sirius got up and sat over by his piano, beckoning Remus to sit on the seat next to the piano. Sirius dropped a stack of papers on Remus’ lap, clearing them off the piano. Remus picked up the top paper and read the words in his mind, once he’d finished he looked up at Sirius with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, Sirius had forgotten what he’d written on the paper but throughout his song Remus kept looking down at them as if they were more interesting than Sirius. Each time he looked up his cheeks grew more and more flushed. Seeing Remus look down so much made him anxious so he finished the second half of his song completely avoiding looking at Remus. When Sirius looked back up at him to ask how he liked it, he looked stunned, staring back at Sirius like he’d hung the moon.
Remus shoved the top paper into Sirius’ hands, it was the english lyrics to his song. “You wrote this for me?” Remus asked.
“Yeah, did you like it?” Sirius asked, hope wrangled in his throat.
“What did the last lyrics mean? You didn’t write them here.” Remus pointed out.
“Oh- uh- don’t worry about those, they aren’t important.” Sirius lied.
“Well… Sirius I know what ‘embrasse-moi’ means, it’s in that french rock song you used to listen to… you wrote that in a song about me? Did you lie when you said it’s about me?” Remus looked down at Sirius, he’d never seen him look so insecure in himself.
“It’s about you, Moony. I swear it is. There’s no one else I could write this about.” Remus scoffed, “I mean it, Moons! I couldn’t think of anything else to write a song on, trust me I tried! But, you’re the only person I feel enough about to be able to write about. I know that sounds weird but it’s true.” Sirius moved in closer to Remus, smiling up at him softly.
“You… you couldn’t think of anything you felt more deeply for? I was the most extreme emotion you could find?” Remus said it more to himself than he did Sirius. “What does ‘Quand tu voudras’.” Remus stuttered in butchered French.
“... Whenever you want…” Sirius whispered.
Remus moved in closer, “Whenever?” Remus whispered back.
“Whenever you want…” Sirius repeated. Sirius went to speak again but was cut off by Remus’ lips jamming into his. Remus cupped his jaw and held the kiss while moving onto the spot next to Sirius at the piano. The second he got to the piano chair he pulled Sirius in by his waist deepening the kiss. Sirius didn’t pull away. He didn’t understand why he didn’t pull away but he didn’t. Eventually Remus pulled away, Sirius leaned back in trying to chase his kiss.
“I need to breathe, Padfoot.” Remus laughed.
“Later.” Sirius huffed before pulling Remus back in. Remus didn’t pull away, if anything he met Sirius’ eagerness with more intensity, pulling Sirius up onto his lap by his waist. Sirius pulled away from the kiss the second he snapped back to his senses about what he was doing. Sirius pushed himself off Remus’ lap, wiping at his lips. “Sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”
Remus looked down at him, he looked hurt, “Yeah… I get it… sorry.” Remus clenched his jaw and got up to go.
“Wait! Where are you going?” Sirius called after him.
“Home, I should've left ages ago, I have plans.” Remus turned to the door without extending a goodbye.
“Plans? With who?” Sirius questioned.
“A friend. Better hurry, he’s waiting.” Remus picked up his cardigan from the sofa near the door.
“He?” Sirius felt his heart creep up his throat.
“Yeah.” Remus replied blandly.
“Can you reschedule? Or just not go at all and ghost him? Sirius offered.
“No, I want to go.” Remus replied coldly.
“Why?”
“Because maybe I don’t like being kissed by someone just for them to push me away and wipe at their lips as if I disgust them! Maybe I’d rather kiss someone who’ll reciprocate without veering in disgust! Maybe I’d like to go home to make plans with someone who will do that!” Remus screamed.
“So, you don’t have plans? You lied?”
“I didn’t lie, I’m going to go home and make plans. As I said, I’d like to be reciprocated with.” Remus snatched his bag off the hanger and went for the door.
“You’re gonna go get with someone?!” Sirius screamed.
“Yeah, I am! Because that was fucked up, Sirius! You can’t just play with someone's emotions like that! Especially not when everything I’ve ever written was about you!” Remus screamed, whipping angry tears from his cheeks.
“You meant that kiss?” Sirius looked up at him with pleading eyes.
“Of course I did!” Remus fumed.
“I- I thought- I-”
“What?! You thought what, Sirius?! What this time-” Sirius cut him off by pushing his lips against his. Remus’ voice died on Sirius’ tongue, pulling him in deeper and deeper.
Sirius pulled away and rested his head on Remus’ shoulder, “I’m sorry I pushed you away, I thought you were uncomfortable.” Sirius admitted.
Remus pulled him back into another sweet long kiss, “Why don’t I give you some of those poems I wrote? Purely just to make you realise how stupid that assumption was.” Remus pulled Sirius back into him, laughing against his lips.