Remus
Oh how Remus had missed this place.
The Potters’ summer home rose from the hills like a memory - its sloping roofs and wrap-around porch, the white railings and stained glass windows, the groves of trees and budding flowers: everything that Remus longed for during the school year. When James had first invited him, the summer between second and third year, Remus had been hesitant, unsure, worried that he wouldn’t fit with James outside of a school environment. But he did. And he fit with Monty and Effie as well, their open arms and soft hands welcoming him as one of their own.
When Remus imagined himself happy, he imagined himself right there.
The mustang grumbled with suspense as it crawled up the drive, turning to park beside Monty’s Rolls-Royce. The front door of the house was wide open, so Remus could see Effie in the back mirror as she tottled down the hall to meet them.
James hopped out of the car first - always moving, always eager - and Remus followed soon after. The air was sweet and cool, a light breeze that smelled like the sea. The gravel of the drive crunched under his feet as he tipped his head back in elation.
The brief moment of comfort was broken by Elvis, the Potters family dog, bounding full force out of the underbrush. He was large and fluffy and drooling, spinning around James and Remus’s ankles. His barks were like an alarm.
“My boys!” Effie called out, walking down the steps. She had a dish rag in one hand, and her apron was smeared with flour.
“Mum,” James said, leaning to give her a hug around Elvis’s jumping form. Yes, James Potter was the type of boy to hug his mother - he didn’t have any shame when it came to affection (unlike Remus).
After a quiet discussion with her son, one Remus would never attempt to oppose, Effie turned to Remus. Her hair was warm with the sun and her cheeks were rosy, and she knew not to hug him and instead simply reached out a hand to brush back his hair. He had to crouch just slightly to allow this, but he didn’t mind. Her palm cupped his cheek just for a moment, before dropping.
“Remus. How are you my dear?”
“Good. Always good.”
“How was the drive up? Did you have any trouble?”
He shook his head, smiling softly.
“Isn’t there supposed to be one more of you?” Effie asked, tuning to James who was rolling around in affection with Elvis on the ground. At the mention of Regulus, James sat up quickly - there was gravel in his hair and his glasses were cocked to one side. Everyone turned to stare at the third member of their commute.
Regulus was standing off to the side, his duffle bag clutched in front of him like a shield. He looked out of place, eyes wide as he took it all in. Remus felt an abrupt sense of kinship with the other boy, recalling how the same sense of fear had plagued him when he first came to the summer home.
Effie smiled, and Regulus stood frozen. She beckoned him over, and he almost involuntarily moved closer, drawn to her motherly warmth as they all were.
“Come here so I can get a good look at you,” Effie laughed, placing both her hands on Regulus’ shoulders. Remus watched as the tension in his jaw almost immediately resolved. James hopped to his feet, smiling.
“Mum, this is Regulus.”
Effie nodded. “Of course. You look just like Sirius.”
Regulus flinched at that remark, and Effie dropped her hands.
“Speaking of him…” James said, “Where is the bastard?”
“Language!” Effie said, smacking James lightly with the dish towel. “I think him and your father are down by the beach, setting up the bonfire. Why don’t you boys go find them?”
James smiled so wide you could see his molars, but when he glanced over at Regulus, it faltered for a moment. See, on any other person, this change of expression might have spoken to annoyance or anger - but for James, who seemed happy even in the worst of times, the calmness that took over him whenever he met Regulus’s gaze meant something different. Remus didn’t know what exactly, but he knew it was blooming, petals of possibility stretching to the sky.
Rubbing at the back of his neck, James said sheepishly, “I should probably help Reg get settled…”
Regulus looked sharply at the other boy, but didn’t say anything.
Effie clapped her hands, and started back up the porch steps, “Maybe you two could help me with dinner then?”
Remus was already making his way around the side of his house, towards the beach, so he didn’t hear James’s reply. It didn’t matter anyway; he had the whole summer to listen to James whine about chores - his whole life in fact.
***
The walk down to the waters edge was a precarious yet inevitably worthwhile pursuit. The cliffs jerked to a finality with a shark drop of 20 feet or so to the sand below, so you had to walk down zigzagging trails in order to avoid dying. The grasses hit Remus’s hips in some spots, and years of footsteps had turned exposed roots into makeshift stairs. The gulls that flew across the choppy waves were the parents of the gulls the year before, and the year before that, on and on.
Once he reached the sand, Remus glanced up, shielding his eyes from the sun, and stopped; without really meaning to his eyes had found Sirius’s dark hair and solid shoulders. The other boy was carrying a pile of driftwood towards a dark smudge of a fire pit. For a moment he hesitated, and then turned, making eye contact with Remus. He waved, dropping the driftwood at Monty’s feet.
“Hey!” he called out, running across the sand. It flicked up behind him like magic, before he skidded to a stop in front of Remus.
“Hey,” Remus said, swallowing.
Sirius reached, and Remus leaned, and the act of embracing was as easy as it always was. Sirius’s smelled of cigarettes and wind and salt, and his head fit comfortably in the curve of Remus’s neck.
“God, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Just a few weeks,” Remus said, shrugging and pulling away.
“I guess it felt longer,” Sirius ran a hand over the back of his head, smiling wide. “Is James up at the house?”
Remus resisted a frown. Sometimes he forgot that even if Sirius loved him like a friend, he loved James like a brother. The camaraderie between them was deep, strong, and unique. When he was younger, it seem unfair to Remus that the two other boys had found their relative soulmate so young and so completely, that their whispered secrets were a language Remus would never decode. But he was older now, and had a long since forgiven himself for his jealousy.
“Yeah. He’s with Effie and R-.”
“Do you wanna help with the fire?” Sirius interrupted, throwing a look over his shoulder at Monty, who was wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he lugged a log across the sand. “Monty’s been making me get wood all afternoon. I probably have more splinters than skin.”
Sirius trusted out his palms, showing off the cuts littering his fingers. His knuckles were slender, and his palms were those of a boy who was raised in the downy softness of wealth. But Remus knew better than that - he had seen what Sirius’s childhood was truly like. He had seen the bruises that never really faded, no matter how many years and how many miles between them.
“I think I’ll sit and watch,” Remus snorted. Sirius scowled at that, eyebrows pulling in.
“You’re no fun.”
This was a truth within their friendship, this push and pull. Sirius always wanted more - more fun, more time, more secrets and discussions and love - and Remus only ever wanted what people could offer. He never wanted to feel like a burden, like a chore; he felt that if he asked for anything then he was recognizing himself as a person with desires and needs and truths, and that only made him more vulnerable in the end. Sirius loved that vulnerably in a way, and Remus rejected it. That’s why every conversation between them was a subtle battle of differences.
“Ah! Remus,” Monty said, coming to clap him oh the shoulder. The mans hands was warm and heavy and felt like home. “Okay drive up?”
“We saw a lot of cows.”
“Typical. Did you hear James went vegetarian?”
“Hes been complaining about missing bacon all week.”
“That boy… He definitely gets that empathy from his mother.”
Sirius laughed from the other side of the fire pit, his head popping up. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you put up with me and that requires buckets of empathy.”
Monty dropped the last log and smiled. “At least you’re self aware.”
Remus stared out over the water, the dark waves spotted with sea foam, and thought about how easy it was for him to put up with Sirius. It was almost second nature in a way. Remus couldn’t picture his life, any version of it, without Sirius standing beside him and it didn’t require empathy or patience or even kindness - it was just how it was.
“I’m starved,” Sirius said, standing up and brushing sand off his pants, “Let’s head back up.”
Remus stretched up, and sarcastically said, “What? You’re just gonna leave this beautiful firepit to fend for itself?”
“I can tell your making fun of me and it’s not appreciated.”
“A fire is no good unless it’s dark,” Monty explained, “Everyone knows that.”
The three of them began the trek up to the house, which would have been painful if it wasn’t so beautiful. Sirius had tied the laces of his boots together and slung them across his shoulders, going barefoot. Remus, who was very aware of the sharp rocks and possible poisonous animals, kept his shoes on.
“Hey,” Sirius said, glancing over at him, a glint in his eye.
“…Hey.” Remus knew what that look meant: trouble.
“Last one to the house is a rotten egg!”
And with those words uttered, like a gun going off at a race, the two boys took off up the hill. Monty called something out behind them but the wind had stolen the words. The grasses sliced at Remus’s legs, rocks flicking up behind him. At one point Sirius was so far ahead he disappeared for a brief moment, before he skidded around the corner, nearly falling. By the time they reached the house they were both sweating, laughing, and it didn’t even matter who won. They were both champions.
At least, they were champions until Sirius saw Regulus standing on the porch.
“What the fuck?”