The Most Beautiful Thing

In the winter of sixth year, Remus was finally starting to forgive Sirius for the Snape Incident. He’d never truly been that angry; he knew Sirius hadn’t meant harm and if he liked the recklessness, he had to accept it in its darker forms as well. He’d certainly never stopped loving him. Still, he’d been hurt that his secret meant so little, and it took him a while to get over that.

But yes, things were getting better. They were slowly getting more comfortable around each other as Remus let himself be friendlier and Sirius stopped treating him quite so delicately. They were talking again, and joking. They could be alone together without sitting in strained silence. Then, of course, something else happened to shatter their re-found camaraderie.

It was nearly the winter holidays, and Hogwarts was stuffed full of Christmas decorations. Remus wouldn’t say that he minded – Christmas was by far the least aggravating of the holidays celebrated at Hogwarts and honestly quite cozy – but there was one distinctive downside to the school’s enthusiastic embrace of holiday spirit: mistletoe.

The fact that, year after year, the faculty insisted on hanging that ridiculous plant in a castle full of mostly underage children (and students no matter the age) was quite worrying. In Remus’ opinion it should probably be prohibited, but his opinion obviously meant nothing to the love-starved professors living vicariously through their young charges.

So far that year, Remus had been forced (yes, forced. Wizards had to go and make magical fucking mistletoe that actually trapped you) to kiss seven people, the worst of which had been a thirteen year old Hufflepuff girl, a terrifying seventh year Slytherin boy, and Filch. He’d only narrowly avoided Filch himself, who seemed to be lurking around the plants way too often. It had all been quick, simple, and awkward, but still definitely disgusting. For the people who got into the spirit of things a little more, it was also very unsanitary. At Christmas time, Madam Pomfrey had more patients than any other time of year.

Sirius, although somehow saved from any kind of sickness thus far, was definitely the most enthusiastically in favor of the tradition out of the four of them, which wasn’t helping Remus’ judgment of it at all. Sirius was one of the few students who didn’t scurry around the castle with their eyes glued to the ceiling for fear of being caught. He strolled about as if nothing was waiting to entrap him and met every new partner with laughter and a cheerful peck or occasionally a bit more. Half of the upper year girls had started following him even closer than usual while the other half avoided him like the plague.

All in all, Remus was very ready for the decorations to be taken down. Between feeling alternatively creeped out and like a creep when he was stuck with a professor or one of the tiny younger years, his obnoxious jealousy every time Sirius lingered a little, and the consequent guilt for being jealous, he was just about at his breaking point. But oh how the world liked to test him.

It was two days before the December full moon, and Remus was in a particularly unhappy mood. He’d had to stay late in Herbology because he’d knocked over, and essentially murdered, a Mandrake and had to clean it up. His whole body was aching, he was starving, and he was going to miss lunch if he couldn’t make himself move faster. Then, just his luck, as soon as he made it into the Great Hall with just enough time to wolf down a sandwich or something, he found himself unable to keep walking. Groaning and glancing up, he was dismayed to find the little leaves dangling tauntingly above him. With a sigh, he turned to get it over with.

Sirius fucking Black stood in front of him and he nearly had a damn heart attack. He’d been thinking about kissing Sirius, and doing plenty of other things, for years, but this certainly wasn’t what he’d hoped for. He didn’t want it to be a joke. Although Sirius ever actually wanting to kiss him was even more of a joke.

But for Merlin’s sake, he was hungry, he was tired, and if this was going to be the only chance he ever got, he might as well take it. He rolled his eyes for show and, with his heart beating far too fast, waited for Sirius to move first.

Sirius didn’t move. Sirius, who had happily tried to snog the Bloody Baron just the day before, hesitated, and that was the last straw for Remus’ struggling sanity. He was more repulsive than the school’s creepiest ghost. He shot a slightly explosive burning hex at the mistletoe, wishing he’d thought of it years ago when he’d had to kiss Flitwick at eleven years old, and slunk out of the Great Hall to the gasps and whispers of the dining students.

Remus made his way outside, not really thinking about his direction, and found a sunny patch of ground to lie down on. It was a little cold, but it was just a relief to be away from everyone and be able to relax a little. He was very tired.

He woke up groggy, and dirty, but rejuvenated after a nap long enough to miss Potions, dusted himself off and went back in for Charms. His friends, obviously sensing his mood, left him well alone for the rest of the day. Sirius in particular was avoiding even eye contact, which was perfectly fine. Remus was the one who had made it awkward.

It continued on like that for the next few days, although Remus’ mood was slightly lifted by his new strategy for avoiding mistletoe. He even used it to save anyone else looking particularly miserable, and if he occasionally singed Filch a bit, well that was just too bad.

After the full moon, he was able to reign in his emotions a bit more. A night playing with the others as the wolf also seemed to do them all some good, and James and Peter went right back to normal. Sirius, while still joining them the morning after and being as kind as ever, remained oddly distant and sullen. Remus slowly got the impression that perhaps he’d hurt his pride; he wasn’t sure anyone else had ever rejected Sirius before. Even if Sirius had rejected him first, it wasn’t a good look to have someone murder the mistletoe instead of kissing you.

So one dinner time, four days after the full moon, when Sirius had the audacity to kick Remus’ shin under the table, not apologize, and then just stare gloomily when Remus turned to look at him, Remus thought it might be time to apologize. Even if Sirius was the one being a bit ridiculous.

Scooting closer on the bench, he whispered “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Sirius sighed.

“Obviously I did. It was the mistletoe, wasn’t it?”

Sirius shrugged.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t mind that stuff usually, but I was tired of it and in a bad mood, and when you didn’t want to-”

“Why the Hell wouldn’t I have wanted to?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Because I’m me. It’s fine, really. I know I’m not exactly ideal for anyone. But my point is, I’m sorry. I was just in a foul mood that day, and it’s never fantastic to be reminded.”

“Moony, I absolutely wanted to.”

“I’m not looking to be patronized. You hesitated, and you never hesitate.”

“Jesus Christ. Of course I hesitated!”
“Right, that’s what I’m saying. So, I’m so-”

“If you apologize one more fucking time, I’m going to burn all your bloody books. Remus, mistletoe is fun. Kissing ghosts and Professor Sprout for a laugh, why not? It lightens things up, and Merlin knows we need that these days. It wasn’t the same with you, so I just needed a minute. You’re perfectly wantable, and were also in your right to burn that thing.”

Remus scoffed. “Sure. Perfectly wantable, but less so than the ghosts.”

“I don’t want the ghosts!”

“Fine, fine, Sirius forget it. People are looking at you. I was just trying to apologize.”

They were. Sirius tended to be loud. Remus could never quite dislike it.

“If I hadn’t hesitated, would you still have blasted it?”

Merlin, what a question to answer with people staring at you. “I don’t know, probably not. I mean, it is what it is right? I’ve already had to kiss Peter, and he was the best of the lot by far. But you didn’t want to, and that’s fine.”

Across the table, Peter choked on his pumpkin juice. James laughed.

“You’re not going to listen to me, are you?” Sirius huffed.

“I’m listening to you, I just-”

“Stubborn git.” Sirius muttered, dropping his fork onto his plate. It clattered loudly, but he seemed not to notice, and was pointing his wand at the ceiling and jumping to his feet, still on the bench, at the same time. He then yanked Remus upright, by the fucking hair, and was snogging the absolute life out of him the very next second. Too surprised to protest (like he would have anyway), Remus opened his mouth and let Sirius force his tongue in. Let him do whatever the Hell he wanted, really. It was the best thing he’d ever felt.

A good ten seconds later, Sirius plopped back onto his seat and began calmly eating his rice. Remus, dazed, followed his lead and tried to ignore the gawping students and absolute pounding of his own heart. Merlin, he couldn’t even really be bothered. Sirius had kissed him. Had wanted to kiss him.

“What just-” James murmured, staring at his best friend with a hilarious mixture of amusement and shock.

Sirius grinned, pointing at the ceiling. “Mistletoe.” He said calmly.

Sure enough, there was a little sprig of leaves floating in mid air above Remus’ head. He laughed.

“But why-” James spluttered again.

“Mistletoe.” Sirius insisted.

Remus was embarrassingly giddy for the rest of dinner (and much longer) and couldn’t do anything but stare in delighted wonder as Sirius continued to simply eat his dinner, turning to give Remus small smiles every once in a while. Sirius Black was a reckless, idiotic wonder. And Merlin, was he fantastic at snogging.