Remus
“I think I’m Harry's favorite uncle.”
The wolf patronus disappeared through the wall, armed with the incredibly loaded phrase, and Remus could barely contain his nerves as he waited for Sirius to respond.
He fidgeted at the end of his bed, sitting alone in the darkness while Peter did who knows what on the other side of the wall.
Remus couldn’t sit still. For no logical reason, he thought he might die. He felt about seventeen years old.
Suddenly, a dog patronus bounded through the wall where the wolf had exited a minute before. Sirius’ voice filled the room, and Remus found himself smiling.
“YOU’VE SAID A LOT OF IDIOTIC SHIT IN YOUR LIFE, SWEETHEART, BUT I’M STOPPING YOU RIGHT THERE. I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT HE WAS ZOOMING AROUND ON MY TOY BROOMSTICK ALL NIGHT AND DIDN’T TOUCH YOUR BOOKS ONCE.”
The dog patronus disintegrated into white light and Remus laughed to himself in the sudden darkness. “The books are for later,” Remus said, waving his wand to cast another patronus. “That’s what I’m doing, planning for the future. It’ll ensure my standing as favorite uncle for twenty years, at least.”
“False.” Sirius’ dog patronus entered Remus’ room faster this time. “I’m his godfather which means that title is automatically applied to me. And shut up— shut the fuck up, Moony, because I know what you’ll say. You spend more time with Harry during the day, but he has more fun with me—”
“He does not!” Remus exclaimed, snapping his mouth shut when he realized he was talking to thin air.
He pointed his wand at the dog so it disappeared mid sentence. “I’m everyone’s favorite, and I know it. I could teach those kids forever. It’s rewarding, isn’t it? Watching them take what you taught them and turn it into something useful?”
Remus waited in nervous anticipation. They were settling into a rhythm he remembered, only interrupted by the long bouts of silence while the other crafted a response. Remus was hardly ever jealous of Sirius’ and James’ relationship (they were cutesy and clingy and it made him physically sick), but right now he would’ve killed for a shard of their mirror.
A sparkle of white light shot through the room.
Before the dog spoke, Remus heard a soft exhale.
Sirius didn’t smoke like Remus did.
Remus inhaled the cigarette— desperately, hungrily, smashing it with his shoe when he was done.
Sirius, on the other hand, savored every gasp of smoke like it was his last. Remus could see it in his mind's eye, Sirius blowing out smoke slowly with squinted eyes, gently putting it out in an ashtray. He always left the cigarette butt lying on its side, like it was sleeping. He used to call it sleeping smoke. He probably still did.
Sirius’ voice was quieter this time. “Moony, I know you love your bookish nonsense, but I can’t do this for much longer. It makes sense why you love it— you’re a natural born teacher. But I want more. I want to fight and no one will let me.”
There was no concluding banter or joke. Sirius’ voice stopped abruptly.
Remus lit his own cigarette and puffed angry clouds of smoke out the open window.
“Maybe Auror practice with the kids would help?” Remus suggested. “Or you could always go in for the test again. You told me the written exam was the difficult part, I can help you study this time… like I used to at school.”
After a pause, Sirius’ patronus responded with a laugh, “And here I was, thinking you hated the parenthesis. As much as I’d love to accept your offer, I used to be a boy genius. Of course you remember. I let you score higher than me just because you worked so hard, you poor, disenfranchised scholar. I can get through the written part this time, I bet… I’d like to teach the kids something. Do you think I’d be any good?”
“Yes,” Remus answered immediately. “You would be fantastic, and they might as well learn something from you. They love you. Also, I do hate the parenthesis, but our title isn’t exactly grammatically correct, anyway. It’s grown on me. It’s a little bit of me and a little bit of you.”
Remus could hear Sirius’ smile. “You’re a sap. I think I’ll head to bed, Moony. As much as I love our late night talking, it’s not the same when you’re not here.”
No, no, don’t go.
Remus quickly cast another patronus and blurted, “You could come over.”
His words startled him, and he jumped from his bed. “Shit, shit, shit, no, no no…” He destroyed the patronus and started again, painfully articulate. “See you tomorrow, then. Get some sleep.”
There was no response.
Remus ripped his hand through his hair, mind whirring and replaying every word from their conversation. His memory became muddled, confused about what he had said and what he had wished. And somewhere through the cities and the forests and the magical barriers, he knew that Sirius was awake, thinking of the same thing.