Twelve Days of Winterfic 2022

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
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Twelve Days of Winterfic 2022
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Day Six

Day Six:

 

**Vaincre spoilers**

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On the sixth day of Winterfic, Hazel gave to you, Pascal and Logan taking Sirius ring shopping!

 

The thing was, Sirius didn’t like being helped in stores. Any store. He didn’t want to be brought things in a dressing room, he didn’t want to tell anyone if he needed more sizes.

But the thing was—that was what jewelry stores were. What are you looking for? And then it was what is she interested in, generally?

“He,” Sirius said, already feeling overwhelmed and, well, now slightly annoyed.

The man gave a nod, a slight smile—and, fine, maybe he wasn’t that bad. “Oh. Of course. What is he attracted to, generally? What does he enjoy?”

Sirius had been working on this question—trying to work on it. Trying to translate everything he knew about Remus into this question. But how? How did he take the way Remus hummed while making his morning coffee and apply it to this? Or the way he like making a wreath for their front door with his mother on FaceTime for Christmas? The way he looked on the treadmill when he really found his stride, small smile and adrenaline coursing through his muscles.

“You know…” Pascal stepped forward into Sirius’ silence. He smiled at the employee. “We might just look around on our own at first.”

The man ducked away with a polite nod.

How would any of this, any of Remus, translate into a ring? It felt like trying to learn English all over again.

“So…What do you think we’re looking for?” Logan shifted at his shoulder, peering into the case in front of them. Everything was very…bright. Reflecting the lights shining down into the case. Sirius guessed that was the point.

All he had for Logan though was a pleading look. Logan—the traitor—laughed.

“D’accord. Just look, then, doesn’t matter at what yet.”

Sirius tried. Bit the man behind the counter kept eyeing him, and the rings flashed at him. They were all so bright, and—and sort of the same. Divided between thin and thick bands. He made what felt like a thousand laps around the store before he found himself right back at the front again, feeling as though everything he’d seen had been nothing but a blur. His feet hurt, the air in the store had a dry, stale quality, and he wanted nothing more than to stop feeling so many eyes on him.

“The thin bands make the diamonds—stand out?” Sirius said to Pascal. “I don’t know, it all looks sharp.”

Pascal laughed. “Ouais. They do cut glass, after all.”

“Do you have a question?” the man behind the counter seemed to appear out of no where.

“No, thank you,” Pascal said in English easily before Sirius could so much as huff. Then, when he retreated again, Pascal looked like he was biting back a smile. “I think it’s driving them crazy that we’re speaking in French.”

“Thank God for French,” Sirius said. “Couldn’t stand it if they were all listening.”

“Hey,” Logan called from the other side of the display round. “What about this one?”

Sirius tried not to make eye-contact with anyone as he made his way towards Logan.

Pascal shook his head when he looked down at the ring Logan was pointing at. The band was on the thicker side, but the diamond stuck out at a hard angle.

“Non. He thinks those ones are sharp,” Pascal said.

Logan snorted. “What?”

“But the ones like this,” Sirius pointed at a thicker band. “All the diamonds are so small, or there isn’t one at all?”

“Well, yeah, those are wedding rings,” Logan said. “I think?”

Sirius blinked. “And what am I buying?”

Logan scoffed and scuffed him across the back of the head. “An engagement ring.”

“One had diamonds? Why is there a difference?”

Pascal shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be a diamond. Emeralds, pearls, sapphires. It is whatever you want it to be.”

“I want a big diamond but—not like he’s gonna cut himself if he fucking moves wrong.”

That sent Logan into a bout of laugher that brought more eyes onto them—distasteful this time.

“Shh,” Sirius nudged him and started walking the cases again. Gold, silver, bronze—that one was made of bone? And this one of wood?

“Come on, lighten up.” Logan said in a quieter voice, following behind him. “What about this one?”

“It’s bone.”

“I was joking.”

“This is not fun.” Sirius rubbed a hand over his neck. He didn’t even want to touch the glass, scared of getting fingerprints all over it. “Isn’t this supposed to be fun?”

“I think the proposal is supposed to be fun. And, you know.” Logan leaned in from behind him. “After the proposal.”

Sirius shoved him, nearly making him stumble into one of the glass cases, and making Pascal send them the same look he gave Adele when she tried to wiggle her way out of her chores—raised eyebrows and all. It was one that both Sirius and Logan were very familiar with. Behave, it said.

“Tremz,” Sirius sighed. “I want this to be perfect. Come on, allez, help.”

“Okay, okay.” Logan looked across the shop. “Well…you don’t want the…sharp ones.”

“I want—why can’t some of them be…” Sirius shook his head. “What the hell did he mean when he said—I don’t know what Remus usually likes. Remus doesn’t usually go ring shopping.”

“Non,” Logan laughed. “Calm down, Cap. He meant…hm, like, Leo wears gold, if he wears anything. He has a gold chain. It goes with him. Finn…Finn, well, no necklace for him, but he looks good in both gold and silver. But Leo’s more—he would like a diamond or something more, ouais? Finn, not so much. More simple.”

“Are we ring shopping for you?” Sirius said, pained. “Non. And what does it say about me that I don’t—that I don’t just know?”

Logan put his hands on Sirius’ shoulders. “Gold or silver for Remus?”

Sirius huffed. “I…” He thought of his necklace, the golden number. “Gold.”

“Diamond?”

“Yeah.”

“Big or small?”

Sirius hesitated, then nodded down at the cases. “I want to give him a big one.”

Pascal, no doubt drawn by the sight of Logan reaching up as if to hold Sirius steady, had come over, and he laughed. “I don’t know, mon fils, I…I can’t really picture Remus with something too big.”

Sirius nodded, but it was of a wavering sort. True, that Remus wasn’t flashy like that. He didn’t like anything too bright. Wore darker colors—save for the occasional Lions Pride sweatshirts, Sirius realized. Despite it all, Pascal was right. He probably would prefer a smaller ring. Something muted and understated.

But Sirius saw the way some of these diamonds glowed—not the ones that bulged out like they were asking to be knocked out of place, but the ones set deep within their medal bands, gleaming and wrapped up.

“But I want to give him that,” Sirius said finally. “It’s—it’s from me, right?”

“It’s for him,” Logan said.

“But when he looks at it, he’ll think of me.”

Pascal laughed. “This is too funny.”

“Well,” Logan gestured at Sirius. “Fine. I guess, but…they wear it. They have to like to look at it every day.”

“I want to give him a big diamond.” Sirius turned back to the cases, all that shimmer set against black velvet. “But I don’t like it when they look—”

“Sharp,” Logan finished, laughing. “Merde, it’s like your reading a play, or something. They aren’t D-men, Cap, they’re rings.”

“Why don’t we take a break?” Pascal said. “We’ll get lunch, just the three of us. Haven’t done that in a while, eh? No practice tomorrow, a glass of good wine to relax…allez, yes?”

Yes,” Logan grinned, pushing up on his toes and reaching down to smack Sirius on the butt. “Come on, Black, get a little tipsy first.”

“Has the gentleman made a decision?” the storekeep said, and all three of them turned.

“No,” Pascal said with a smile. “Thank you very much.”

 

The December sun was bright, warming Sirius up as they walked down the street even as the cold bit at his cheeks. Downtown Gyffindor had been a complete shock when he’d first gone, but that was probably because it had taken him almost a month to actually accompany the Dumais family out of the house during his first season. Broadway was littered with stores and restaurants and coffee shops, and it was all made doubly as wonderful by the lights and greens strung up on each store front. Sirius let Logan and Pascal do most of the talking as they walked, content to window shop—and also aware that they were drawing a few stares—he was recognizable enough, not to mention with Logan and Pascal at his side.

When they seemed just on the verge of drawing a few followers, Pascal guided them into a restaurant, where he was greeted by name by a man who had to give only one look towards the stragglers that had them melting away. The restaurant was in an old, French style. Black and white tiles made swirling designs on the floor, and the bar was high-shelved with a mirror behind it, reflecting the light of the room back at them. Pascal ushered them into a booth and Sirius thanked the waiter when he was handed a menu and poured a glass of ice water. He downed in in a handful of large gulps. The air in that story really had been stuffy.

“Knowing you,” Logan said to Pascal as he reached for a piece of bread. “You didn’t buy Celeste’s ring. You walked a thousand miles up to a mountain for a precious stone, and then forged the gold with your bare hands.”

Sirius laughed, but Pascal only nodded solemnly. “This is true.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Non, really.”

Pascal buttered a piece of bread, too. “Really, actually, I was as indecisive as Sirius. Nothing feels perfect enough—until you find what you’re looking for.”

Sirius leaned back in his seat and stared down at the menu. Burgers, and steaks, and Niçoise salad. Something had been scraping at the back of his mind, but he hadn’t been able to name it until now, sitting there with Pascal’s soft, understanding eyes on him.

“Maybe Remus would be better at this part than I am,” Sirius said. “What if I’m just…”

Logan kicked him from beneath the table. “Sirius, we went to, like, two stores. It’s all right.”

Pascal laughed, reaching up to ruffle Sirius’ hair. “It’s not a competition.”

Sirius sighed, and then kicked Logan back.

“Ow,” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“You kicked me first.”

“God,” Pascal said as the waiter came over for their orders. “You two really are like brothers.”

Sirius couldn’t help but feel warm at that. He glanced at Logan across the table and found him smiling, too.

 

“Honestly, I…” Sirius began after they had eaten and were walking down the streets again, shouldering between other holiday shoppers. “We sort of…have been fighting.”

Logan looked over at him sharply, and Sirius saw him and Pascal exchange a glanced over him.

“Fighting,” Pascal repeated. “Sirius, I don’t think I’d call that fighting.”

“Isn’t a fight a fight?” Logan asked.

“Please,” Pascal said. “Like you have ever fought with your boys.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You think Finn and I have never fought?”

“But that’s what I’m saying,” Pascal said. “It’s different. There is fighting because two people are not compatible and can’t reach a compromise, or a decision. And then there is lashing out because the rest of the world feels out of balance. Believe me.” Pascal gave a small sigh. “I’ve done both. And we’re all, all three of us, lucky to love people are share our world we’re in, this hockey bubble of ours. Because it’s nothing but up-and-downs, and…I think for someone who isn’t in it, it’s hard to understand why some days we’re high, and some days we’re low.”

“But marriage is about helping people through those lows,” Sirius said. The frustration was back, that horrible knot in his chest that he’d been feeling for what felt like all season. Every time he saw Remus’ frown, every time he saw him staring into the fridge or the closet, not knowing what to make or wear, mind obviously completely elsewhere—it hurt. It made him feel as powerless as he’d ever felt. He could hold Remus as close as possible while they slept, he could press kisses to the back of his neck in the morning in the way he loved, but he couldn’t—why couldn’t he—“And I can’t seem to help him.”

They had slowed their walk some, and Logan’s hand had appeared on Sirius’ back.

“Cap…” Logan said softly. “I’m sorry. It’s—it’s going to be okay, though, really. I don’t think that’s true, I think you do help him.”

“But I—” Sirius cut off when his phone began to buzz. He knew it would be Remus even before he took it out of his pocket.

“Merde, he’s calling me.”

“Well, answer, I think,” Pascal said, then looked at Logan. “Right?”

Logan nodded. “It’s weird if you don’t answer.”

Sirius stared at Remus’ contact for another moment—a picture of him the first time they’d gotten dressed together in the locker room. He looked so happy. How had that been only a few months ago?

“Hey,” Remus said when Sirius put the phone up to his ear.

“Hi, Re,” Sirius said, something easing just at the sound of his voice, then cleared his throat. “Hi.”

Logan shot him a look, hands out in a shrug that said what was that?

Remus, it turned out, picked up on it, too. “You okay?” He asked. “You sound weird.”

“I…sound weird?” Sirius looked pleadingly at Logan, who mouthed, I beat you at X-box. “Logan beat me at X-box.”

“Ah,” Remus said, and he heard him sit down on the couch with a sigh. “That’ll do it.”

“That’ll do it,” Sirius repeated and Logan grinned, flashing him a thumbs up. “Ah, we’re getting lunch now. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…yeah.” Sirius heart pulled with how sad Remus sounded. It was too often that he did, these days. “Okay, cool. Just wondered where you were. I’ll let you get lunch now.”

“Okay, I’ll be home soon.” Sirius turned away from the other two for a moment. “Re.”

“Yeah?”

Sirius thought of all the blurring rings, bright, and sharp, and shiny. Remus was none of those things. He lit things up, clear as a sheet of fresh ice. He made Sirius feel safe, like nothing could tear them apart. “I love you.”

There was a slight pause, Remus letting out a breath. “I love you, too, baby. Have fun, okay?”

Sirius sighed when the line clicked off, and turned back to the other two, who were watching his face carefully. His phone’s lock screen stared back at him. A photograph from this summer, him and Remus squinting up at the camera from there backs, laughing in the sun on the dock at Remus’ family cottage.

“You do think he’ll say yes?” Sirius asked in a small voice. It was the deepest ache that had been pressing at the back of his mind, making him sore all over. He had imagined it a thousand horrible ways. Oh, Sirius I…you know how much you mean to me, but—

“Sirius,” Logan said softly. “Of course he will. He loves you so much.”

“Ouais,” Pascal said. “Nothing changes that. Not hockey, or anything else.”

Sirius took in a breath. “Yeah?”

Pascal smiled. “Why do you think I had you two stay in the guest bedroom that night of the storm? You think my house only has one guest bedroom, Sirius? You, who lived there for years? I knew you two were right for each other.”

Sirius began to nod, then froze.

“Wait,” Logan said, eyes narrowed at Pascal.

Pascal just smiled. “There’s another store we will try up here.” He began to walk ahead of them, hands in his pockets. “I have a good feeling about it.”

Sirius and Logan stared at each other for a moment, then they burst out laughing.

“Dumo—what?” Sirius called, and they ran after him.

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