Take my Hand (Take my Whole Life, too)
A WolfStar Oneshot
“Mate, really, thank you for this.”
James claps a hand on Sirius' shoulder, his other arm holding baby Harry who was gnawing on the ear of his Padfoot plushie. Harry gives a gummy smile when he catches his godfather's eye. Sirius practically melts on the spot.
The war had just ended a week ago, with Voldemort's death signing it off. Of course, some people didn't get the memo and a couple of Death Eaters, who refused to believe their leader and Lord was gone, threw caution to the wind and started attacking everyone they could, some (like his dear cousin Bellatrix) even went out without their masks, Dark Mark in full blaze for everyone to see.
James, Lily, little Harry, and the Longbottoms spent the last few chaotic days hiding in Hogwarts since many of the Death Eaters (Oh, hello again, Bella) got it into their minds that since their Lord was looking for them last, they'd know where he'd gone, so were out for their blood.
That was the problem until yesterday morning.
After a while of sitting on their arses and watching the madness, the Aurors finally snapped into their senses and joined the Order in rounding up the Death Eaters (those that didn't flee the moment their tattoos became scars) and Dumbledore, hailed once more as the Defeater of a Dark Lord, took control of the Ministry—“Temporarily only, of course, my dear boy.”—and had every staff, employee and member tested and checked for the Dark Mark. No one complained, too in awe of the Dark Lord Defeater—“I'd rather not be coined that, please, dear boy.”—and those that did became the first to get checked.
Finally, the dust seemed to settle and those that sought to Hogwarts for protection felt safe to go home—well, those that had a home, anyway.
The Potters, sadly, were among those that had no house to go home to, what with their house being the final battleground where Dumbledore and Voldemort duelled it out. There really wasn't much but rubble and debris after they were done. Not that they were complaining. Had Dumbledore not been informed beforehand about You Know Who coming to Godric's Hallow for little Harry, it wouldn't have been just the house that would have been lost.
Sirius still shudders at what might have been. He's still learning how to live a life where he has to be grateful to Severus Snape of all people, because of it. He's trying not to have a sour taste in his mouth every time he thinks about it; baby steps and all.
The war may have ended when Voldemort did but it wasn't officially done until yesterday morning, when Dumbledore had announced that the Ministry was Death Eater free, almost 100 Death Eaters had been caught and arrested, and all that was left to do was conduct trials and focus on healing from the pains of war.
The British Wizarding World celebrated the whole day, of course, before they could focus on healing and rebuilding. Hogwarts celebrated too and the students would get a whole weekend home with their families as soon as Friday comes.
Come morning, the people who took refuge in Hogwarts’ halls packed their bags and said their goodbyes. The Potters packed their bags too, because like hell would Sirius leave them in their time of need; not when he has a perfectly usable bedroom to offer. That it was his meant nothing, no matter what James or Lily may say on the matter.
Sirius may not have a manor or even just a house to offer but he did have a rather sizable bedroom, a wand, and a nifty, if heavily regulated, spell in his arsenal. He owes at least this much to the Potters, even if James says differently.
So with a wide smile, he shakes his head and states, “Don't stress on it, Jamie, you know I'd never not want you around.” He then reaches out a hand to tickle Harry on his little tummy, making the little thing giggle loudly. His grin turns all soft, “Besides, I get to have 24-hour access to this little cutie.”
Harry gives his godfather a wide smile that crickles his big, green eyes, and takes his hand to lean his chubby cheek on it. He coos, “ Unka Pa’foot .”
Sirius melts on the spot.
James gives a wide, if soft and fond, smile, the one he typically reserved for when Harry and Sirius were bonding. He shakes his head, messy curls bouncing in the air. “You're the best, pads, really.”
With a derisive snort, he gently takes back his hand from Harry who then went back to gnawing on his cuddly toy. He gives a brittle smile and avoids James’ eyes, “I'm not, not really. It’s just fair, right? I should house you after I got your house destroyed and everything…”
James frowns. “Sirius, I told you—“
"James, can you help me with this?" Lily shouts from within the bedroom.
James frowns at him for a moment before turning his head to answer his wife. “I'll be there in a mo’, Lily Flower!” He calls out, little Harry squealing ‘fauwer!’ in imitation.
James turns to Sirius again, frowning at him with critical and assessing eyes. Sirius tries not to fidget, his brother's stare too reminiscent of a certain cat Animagus' stare to be comfortable with.
Thankfully, James decides to drop the subject…
”You should talk to him.”
… Only to choose another difficult to talk about topic. Damn it all, Potter.
Sirius grumbles as he glares at the ground. “We talk…”
James just hums, expression unbelieving.
Sirius huffs indignant. “We talk!”
”About the weather, I’m sure,” is James’ dry reply.
When Sirius didn’t reply, opting instead to glare at the ground once more, James sighs.
”Look,” James starts with a solemn expression, “We’re going to be sharing living quarters again for a few… howevermany weeks. You can’t just keep ignoring things between you like you both have been doing—not if you don’t want to lose him.”
That got Sirius snapping his head up quick, expression disbelieving and panicked. James sighs again.
”The war is over, pads,” he reminds softly, “Nothing is stopping him anymore from going and finding some other place he’ll be appreciated like he deserves.”
”He is appreciated! Weappreciate him!” Sirius explodes.
“Then I suggest you tell him that,” James replies calmly, even as he bounces and soothes Harry who had startled at his godfather’s outburst (another thing to be guilty about, a distant part of Sirius’ mind whispers).
Sirius’ face twists, hurt and frustration contorting it. “James,” he raspes, “You know that we—”
“—both messed up, I know,” James cuts in. He clasps Sirius on the shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze, “That’s why you two need to talk. It’s not just you who’s got something to say and apologise for, after all.”
James pats his shoulder, Harry, imitating his dad again, pats Sirius’ other side. He gives him a look before turning, walking to the bedroom to help his wife, Harry waving over his shoulder.
Sirius is left standing in his living room, staring at the spot where James stood, lost in his thoughts.
“… It’s not that easy,” he whispers.
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It was nearing dinnertime when he arrives.
Oh, but who would this ‘he’ be that Sirius is mentioning other than Remusbloody fuckingLupin? As if there was any other man that could get Sirius so twisted like he could. No one could even compare.
If saying it to the bloody prat will make it truer for him, then I’ll do it, Sirius thought petulantly angrily, Sirius would do anything, anything so he doesn’t leave.
“Sorry, I’m late, people,” Remus offers sheepishly, unwinding his wool scarf in a red and cream argyle pattern—because of fucking course it’s argyle, as if all of his socks weren’t argyle patterned too—“Dumbledore’s been asking the other members of the Order to help with rubble the Dark side caused before they got caught. The Ministry’s finally Death Eater free but it still needs a lot of work, and the Auror department isn’t any better. Alastor is having the time of his life, shaping all of them into proper shape—or so he says, anyway.”
James snorts, arms crossed casually over his chest now that his hands were free of Harry who had been taken by his mother. “Oh, of that I have no doubt,” he snickers at the thought of his mentor cackling away at the Ministry.
“Now come on, dinner’s ready so let’s all eat together, yeah? Living together again after two years of living separately is going to be a blast!” He crows, turning and heading over to the little section by the kitchen where the dining table was placed. Lily grumbles a sarcastic, ‘oh, yay’ to Harry, even as she hides a smile in his wild curls.
Remus chuckles softly, always one for dry humour, the lightly-freckled git. It was during Sirius’ quiet stewing that hazel green eyes catches his own grey orbs. The werewolf gives a strained smile, even as he averts his eyes.
”Ah, Sirius, I, er, wanted to thank you again for housing me,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking everywhere but the man he was talking to, not that said man was doing any better. “I didn’t really expect that they would find where I lived, fortunately I wasn’t there or–well, yes…” he trailed off awkwardly.
Sirius clears his throat, pushing his hands through his trouser pockets, “It’s fine, Remus, you know you’re always welcome.”
Remus looks as if he wants to say something but says nothing in the end, just nodding and gesturing for Sirius to lead the way to kitchen. Which he did. Quietly. Not speaking.
Screw it, I can’t do it, thought a dismayed Sirius.
As they sat at the table, Sirius and Remus did their best not to glance at each other, a rather difficult feat for people sitting next to one another.
Sirius thinks fighting Voldemort himself would have been easier.
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"Nai nai, Unka Pa'foot," Harry mumbles, eyes already closed as he leaned his head on his father's shoulder.
Sirius felt all tension leave his body as he looks at his godson, a reaction that started when he first opened his eyes to the world and hasn't yet faded—Sirius doubts it ever will.
Running a finger through his soft curls, Sirius replies with a softer voice, "Night night, Prongslet." He drops a kiss to his head before stepping away, giving James a soft smile that his brother returned.
"Night, Pads," he says.
"Night, Prongs," Sirius replies.
James turns and enters the bedroom, giving Sirius one last look before the door was shot.
"You're really good with him."
Sirius turns to the voice that spoke up from his left. Remus was leaning on the wall, a soft, if contemplating, look on his face as he stares at where James and Harry once stood.
“I'm his godfather, I think that means I have to be good with him, Remus,” he snarks without much thought. Sirius fights not to close his eyes in frustration.
Mother in hell, why am I like this? He bemoans in his head. He then scoffs inwardly. Why am I even asking? It's probably because of you anyway.
He is pushed from his thoughts by the sound of Remus' hoarse voice laughing. Sirius could only stare because there was no better sight.
Remus shakes his head, grinning at him teasingly. “No, it's not that,” he says. “We always knew you'd be good with him; it's just that I always thought you'd be the wild, fun uncle, instead of this big pile of goo that's wrapped around Harry's tiny fingers,” he smirks, a mocking little thing he'd never show had there been any professors within seeing distance.
Honestly, Sirius feels like punching him. On the mouth. With his lips.
“I can be both,” Sirius grumbles half-heartedly, a smile tugging at his lips.
Remus raises a brow. “What if I want to be the fun, wild uncle?”
It was Sirius’ turn to raise an eyebrow.
Remus chuckles, “Okay, fair enough.”
This makes the two men laugh. They smile at each other when the laughter dies, the tense atmosphere between them vanishing in a flash.
It feels good to laugh like this with Remus again…
“I missed this,” Sirius admits softly.
…. And then he ruined it.
The smile falls from Remus’ lips and the air turns tense once more.
Dearest Mother in hell, why!?
“Er,” Remus clears his throat, averting his eyes— no, Remus, no! Look at me! Please!— “Where’d you say we were sleeping again?”
‘We’. Because when Sirius said he had a bedroom to offer the Potters, he meant he only had the one . Which means when he unthinkingly offered Remus a place to stay when he lost his parents’ house, he also had to admit that they’d have to share a bed.
Of course, Sirius pushed when Remus hesitated. I shouldn’t have pushed , Sirius cried in his thoughts.
Sirius clears his throat, “Right, yeah. It’s over here.”
Here being the living room with this clever little muggle invention called a ‘sleeper sofa’.
Remus huffs a small laugh through his nose. He shook his head, “I should have known.”
Sirius squawkes, indignant. What's that supposed to mean!? Remus snickered but made no further comment.
They make quick work of setting up the bed after that, changes into their night clothes and awaited their turn to do their nightly ablutions. Soon enough, they find themselves in bed.
Side by side, not even a foot apart; they lay on their sides, backs facing one another. Too tense to sleep, too awkward to chat.
Present Sirius could only curse Past Sirius in his head. Sleeping in the same bed had never been an issue before; they've all slept together, the four–three of them, back in Gryffindor Tower. Past Sirius clearly opened his gob in light of this, ignoring how Present Sirius can't even talk to Remus, much less share a bed with him.
How did James expect Sirius to start a conversation like this ? Sirius had always been the one with strong emotions that got the best of him but that didn’t mean he knew how to talk about them. That was Jamie’s forte.
Sirius doesn’t know how to do his-name talks!
“It’s been a while since we’ve all shared the same living space, huh? Much less share a bed.”
Remus was really one-upping Sirius in the talking department today, wasn’t he?
Feeling Remus shuffling behind him, he quickly moves to turn around too. Facing each other, they stare for a moment.
James wanted them to talk because things between them had been strained since their 6th year, when Sirius made the biggest mistake of his life. James thought they hadn’t moved on from the hurts of that night and, in a way, he was right.
James just didn’t know about the little fact that Sirius had been—and is still—in love with Remus and that he had been pretty sure Remus had been in love with him too—before he broke his heart and trust, that is.
James saying that he might lose Remus because of this, struck a little too close to home.
"Sirius," Remus calls out, concerned, after a minute of silence from the other man. He grows even more concerned when Sirius remains silent.
He was about to call out again when Sirius finally moved to speak.
"Do we talk?" He practically bursts out.
Remus blinks. "I rather think that's what we're doing now," is his absentminded response.
"No, I mean," Sirius huffs, glaring at the space between them. Remus waits, knowing better than to push when Sirius is like this.
"Have I ever apologized for that night?" Sirius asks instead and… Remus was not expecting that.
The werewolf was half-tempted to ask what he meant but that would have been a lie. He knew what night he meant.
He hums quietly. "You did," he says eventually.
Sirius winces, however. "Did I apologize properly?"
That, Remus thought, was not as easy to answer.
Sirius grimaces at the non-answer answer. Remus opens his mouth to reassure his friend it wasn't necessary but Sirius beats him to it.
"I was an idiot," he says, "I wasn't thinking and I was just so… angry all the time, that when I heard Snape insinuating things, I—it doesn't excuse what I did. It was horrible to you and to him. Mother would have been proud and just from that, I know that what I did was wrong.
"I never meant to hurt you. I never even meant for Snape to see you; thought he'd hear the snarling and the howling and run for the hills like a normal, non-Gryffindor bloke," he shakes his head. "Still doesn't excuse that I was so callous and loose with your secrets," he says quietly, eyes distant as he stares at the bed beneath them.
"I broke your trust, Remus, and, more than that, I broke your heart," he says, eyes lifting to meet his own. "I had one job—keep your secret—and I couldn’t even do that."
Remus winces at the choice of words. Sirius either doesn't notice or ignores his reaction.
"I'm sorry, Remus," he whispers hoarsely, "Sorry's never going to be good enough, not for this, and I don't deserve your forgiveness. Yours or Snape's."
Remus blinks. "You want Snape's forgiveness?" He couldn't help but ask.
Sirius grimaces. "It's not that I want it, I just—I've already done irreparable damage to him and, now, with James and Lily…" he trails off.
The werewolf could understand that but… "You shouldn't apologize just because you now feel indebted to him," he points out.
Sirius makes a sour face but he nods all the same.
A beat of silence appears before Remus dispels it with a quiet voice.
"I've already forgiven you, if that's what you wanted to hear."
Sirius fights off a grimace. It was and it wasn't.
"I just…" Remus trails off, uncertain.
Sirius nods, filling for him. "But you don't trust me."
Remus huffs angrily. "I trust you!" He asserts.
Sirius stares at him disbelieving. He hums as he replies, "Maybe but not completely and that's okay. That I even have a modicum of your trust is a miracle enough."
That I even have you in my life still is a miracle enough .
Silence reigns on them again as they become lost to their thoughts. It's a while before Remus breaks the quiet.
He chuckles, grabbing Sirius' attention like his laugh was wont to do, though he has to concede that he doesn't know what brought it on.
When Sirius just looks at him lost (and a little smitten but who was gonna know?), Remus thankfully explains, "Did you know? I used to be so in love with you."
And, oh… that wasn't at all what Sirius would have guessed. He had hoped, back in 5th year, that his feelings could be returned but to hear it…
"Of course, it didn't really matter much, back then, though it caused me a lot of panic," he chortles, "You were in the eye of every girl and some blokes too. How was I any different? So it—"
"I was in love with you ," Sirius cut in. He didn't really hear anything past 'I used to be so in love with you' as it kept repeating in his head.
Remus' eyes widen. "Oh." He falters, pink slowly gathering at his cheeks. "I didn’t — you were — when were you — no, that doesn't matter, it's — you were in love with me ?" Is the question he settles on, wide eyes staring at the man in front of him.
Fuck it, what did I have to lose?
"I'm still in love with you," Sirius corrects, laying down all his cards.
Remus' eyes widen even more. "Oh," he breathes, his cheeks now a bloody red. He didn't say anything more after that and silence took over once more.
Sirius refuses to panic, though. Letting his emotions get the best of him was how he ended up in most of the troubles he's faced in his life. He's not going to let this be another one of those moments, not again.
The fact that Remus is still in bed with him and not running for the hills, screaming at him in anger or disgust, is more than enough. He never wants to take the werewolf for granted again.
Sirius is jerked out of his thoughts by a hand touching his own. He looks down and—his breath catches, heart jumping to his throat.
Remus is looking down, avoiding his gaze like he did early this evening and yet looking so different from then. Now, his cheeks are red, he looks abashed and—dare he say it— shy . Sirius could weep at the unfairness of 6'3 tall men being so adorable. More importantly, though, was the hand that was slowly starting to grip Sirius' fist.
It was—Sirius is lucky he's already laying down otherwise he would have needed to a moment to sit the fuck down. He barely dares to breathe right now.
"I…" Remus starts, "don't know if ready for a relationship," he was considering it? "but I think… I would like to, at least, start over with you," he explains haltingly, cheeks still glowing red.
"You were right when you said I didn't completely trust you," can a heart plummet even as it continues to soar? Yes, apparently, they can. "but I want to, though. To trust you completely, again. Would that be okay?" Remus asks, glancing over his lashes to look at Sirius with nervous but hopeful eyes.
He asked you a question , his brain supplies. Shit, he asked me a question, his conscious replies.
"Yes," he answers because—was that even a fucking question?—"Fuck yes!" He crows, laughing delightedly. Remus lets out a surprised laugh, shushing him immediately lest he wake up the small family sleeping in the room next door.
Sirius quietens but leans his head to whisper intensely to Remus, " Fuck. Yes ." Remus giggles— giggles! —and Sirius just about dies.
They spend the night not kissing like Sirius would want to but talking and holding each others' hands. They talk of all the things they missed as they avoided each other. They talk of the little things they saw during the war that gave them hope, that filled them with determination, that saddened them or made them lose hope. They talk of the future, now that the war is done, their hopes for a brighter tomorrow, their fears of a bleaker reality. They talk about Harry and all that Remus missed while he was away on missions across the country, the day he first learned to talk, his first accidental spell ("The youngest to ever show magic since Merlin, Moony!"), and how his first word was 'Moo'ey' because James decided to tell little Harry stories about his other uncle every night so he'd still know him, even when he was away ("That just means I'm the favourite, Pads." "Shut your gob, Moo'ey .").
Before they could realize, the sun had risen up and they had fallen asleep, legs tangled, foreheads brushing, and their hands grasping each other between them.
James take a picture as soon as he saw them.
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