History's Footnote

Then as it was, then again it will be

And though the course may change sometimes

Rivers always reach the sea

Suddenly, all that mattered was each other. It felt different from their last kiss, it felt comfortable, right. Then it deepened, and they both felt something change. Remus was holding Sirius by his collar, pushing him back against the door, making him gasp. He moved his lips down to his neck, kissing Sirius softly, then harder as he heard his breathing hitch. “Remus…” 

“I need you. I need you, I…” 

Sirius’s hand had reached under his jumper, grabbing at his hips to bring them closer together. Their cigarettes fell abandoned on the ground. Remus went to push the door open, so they could go up to the bedroom, but froze as he heard voices, and remembered the party inside.

“Fuck all these fucking people in your god damn house” Groaned Remus, and Sirius chuckled, leaning into him and sighing. 

“We… we have to go back in, don’t we.” Said Remus.

“Can’t we make them leave?” Sirius replied.

“Hey” Remus brushed Sirius’s cheek with his thumb, slowly. “It’s ok, my love, we’ve got time.”

The rest of the evening passed in a weird haze. Remus felt like the room had been thrown into darkness, and Sirius held the only light. He was hyper aware of his every move, and unable to concentrate on what anyone else said. After a while, he gave up and took himself to bed. Then he waited.

“Hey” Sirius is stood in Remus’s door, fidgeting.

“Hey yourself” Remus looked up from his book, and stubbed out his cigarette.

“Can I… come in?”

“Of course - It’s your room.” 

Sirius smiled shyly and stepped into the room. “I think I remember when I first knew I loved you. If I tell you, can you tell me if it’s real?”

Smoke from his cigarette had coated the room in a hazy light. “Ok”

Sirius sat on the end of the bed, facing away slightly so that Remus couldn’t see his eyes. “It was after dark. You hadn’t come to bed, and I was worried. I found you in the common room. You were curled in an armchair, and you were reading The Dark Forces. I watched you, and it was the first time I’d seen you look relaxed. Then I went and knocked something and you started up. I don’t think you wanted anyone to know that you were actually trying… you know, at the school stuff. Like we’d mock you, if we saw you study. You slid the book out of view, and you asked me what the fuck I wanted.”

“That was second year.”

Sirius turned towards him. “You sound surprised, have I got something wrong?”

“I just… I never realised it was that early for you.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t fancy me the moment you met me?” Now Remus could see his face, his mouth curved upwards into a smirk. 

He lent his head back against the wall and replied “nope, not until fourth year. When you started trying out for Quidditch. What can I say, I only like jocks.”

“What must you think of me now, then?”

“Let’s see… ” Remus sat up and reached for Sirius’s hand. “Same long fingers.” He touched his hair. “Same long locks.”

He undid a couple of buttons of Sirius’s shirt, pausing at the tattoo he’d noticed on his chest. “This is new.”

Remus kissed along Sirius’s collarbone, and Sirius groaned underneath him. Remus moved up to his mouth and looked directly at him. “And your eyes… they’re so beautiful. I could look at them forever.”

Sirius seemed to be waiting for Remus to make the next move. He felt the anticipation, and decided to take his time getting there. He ran his hands through Sirius’s hair, and then down his back. When Sirius shivered, Remus’s patience ran out. He growled and pushed Sirius against the bed frame, using his other hand to grab his wand to slam the door, and lock it behind him. Then his mouth was on Sirius’s, and nothing else mattered. 

Sirius seemed reluctant to take off his shirt, so Remus stepped back and slowly took his own off. There were new scars, he knew, criss crossing all over him. Sirius glanced down at them, and then back at Remus. Slowly, Sirius removed his own shirt, knowing that time had not been kind to him. He looked over at Remus, almost apologetic, but there was daring in his eyes too. It was all too tender, but Remus was feeling feral. He drew them back together, pushing Sirius down onto the bed. His tongue knew Sirius’s body by heart.

Afterwards, they lay in bed, Sirius’s hair splayed across Remus’s chest.

“It wasn’t The Dark Forces.” Said Remus, running his hands slowly through Sirius’s hair.

“Hmm?” Sirius hummed sleepily.

“The book I was reading. In second year… It was a novel - that’s why I was embarrassed.”

“So it was real?”

“It was real.”

In the morning, Sirius stood and reached over to pull back the curtain. Remus could see his ribs pressing against his skin, and the distinct V leading down into his low waistband… his breath was caught in his throat. The sun cast fluid ripples of light into the room as it filtered through the leaves of the large oak tree outside. It had rained all evening, but the morning was fresh and dewey. It was the perfect scene for starting again. 

“Moony… these fireworks and everything Fred and George keep inventing, do you know anything about that?” Sirius asked, as he flopped back down next to Remus.

“Yep.” Replied Remus, shortly. He knew where this was going. 

“Do you know where they got the money for them?”

“Yes”

“You DO?” Sirius sat up in bed.

“Yes, Padfoot, I do.” And he explained exactly what Harry had chosen to do with his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament. Sirius was beside himself. 

“You don’t think… there’s literally a war about to start! That money could have been useful! How can you be calm about this - ”

“If you have a problem with it, you should speak to Harry.”

Sirius paused.

“...can you do it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But Moony…” he whined. 

“No. I’m not going to let you sit back and be the fun godfather while I play evil uncle Lupin. Harry says we all need a good laugh and he’s right. If that teenager wants to spend his fortune on a joke shop the day after he was nearly killed, why shouldn’t he? It’s the closest thing to a normal decision he’ll ever get to make.”

Defeated, Sirius huffed and turned away from Remus. “Well, I don’t know how they’ll make it work with only one invention that hardly works anyway…”

Remus sighed. “They’ve also invented several spells and potions, eavesdropping tools, and are working on a full range of magic for espionage.”

Sirius turned back to him, mouth open. “How do you know all this?” He demanded. “They’ve denied it all whenever I try to speak to them!”

“Maybe you’re not as cool as you used to be. I helped them organise a protest, a chance to be menaces. They trust me.” He shrugged.

This had clearly perturbed Sirius a step too far. Remus decided to reel it in a little, turning to his back and wrapping his arms round his waist. “I think some of what they’re making could be useful to us in times to come. Besides, if you were Harry’s age, you would have funded the joke shop. You know you would have.”

*

Sirius went ahead to breakfast, keen to spend time with his godson. Remus found his scars and body ached worse in the mornings, and took much longer to get up as a result. When he finally came downstairs, he could hear laughter in the kitchen. The house resisted it, but eventually it washed over, floating into the hall. Harry, Ron and Hermione were telling Sirius about the time they fought a troll in first year by sticking a wand up its nose. Sirius was laughing, a full-bodied laugh, and slapping his fists on the table. Remus hung back a moment in the doorway. He felt as though he was watching the scene in the reflection of a soap bubble, and any disturbance could burst it. Sirius spotted him, and reached out a hand. His eyes twinkled with mischief, and for a second, Remus swore he saw the boy in him again.

“Hey Moons, remember that time we snuck nifflers into the Slytherin common room?”

Remus smiled “I was proud of that one. Purebloods paid more that day than they ever have in taxes.”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait - it was your idea, professor?”

“He was usually the mastermind behind our more noble pranks. Me and James spearheaded the more… stupid ones, I suppose.” Sirius winked at Harry as he said this, and they settled into a morning of regaling tales of their past. 

Sirius never thought he’d be back in this house, but sat between his godson and the man he loved, it didn’t seem so bad. They were waging war on the house, and the kitchen had been won. Molly Weasley was to thank for that. There was a constant buzz of people in and out, which meant constant meals and butterbeers that left rings on the wood. Sirius’s family would have murdered him for that alone, but he welcomed the mess. The marks they left behind that said: I was here. I lived. It could be gone in a moment.