The Exchange
LILY
It was half past eight in the morning on the next day, when Lily entered Severus' house again. It had been raining in spinners end, and her thick leather boots left puddles of mud and water in the narrow entrance corridor. She sighed, shook some water out of her beard and entered the small kitchen.
Remus, who had been sitting at the tiny table, drinking a cup of tea, almost fell of his wobbly chair when he saw her.
“Blimey!” he gasped, dabbing his now tea-wetted jumper with a napkin. “You could really warn a man, Lils.”
Lily laughed in a deep, bassy voice and dropped her massive frame on the chair in front of him.
“Found a bit of Polyjuice in Sev's office,” she explained, pouring her friend a fresh cup of tea. “Thought that would be easier than sneaking around. This guy is a HGV driver I accio'd a few hairs from. Although”, she had a quick look at the clock above the stove, “It should be over any minute.”
“Do you really think anyone would recognise you here?” Remus asked, tapping the newspaper he had been reading with his wand to clean off the spilled tea. “It's a muggle neighbourhood.”
“It's the town I grew up in,” Lily countered. “Also, it's not only muggles. Sev lives here too.”
“And Merlin knows why,” Remus mumbled and turned the paper.
Lily felt a tingle creeping up her spine and lifted her hand, interestedly watching as the huge, bear-like paws with the crusty nails and bruised knuckles shifted down into her familiar, pale hands. Ginger hair was falling in her eyes again and she casually started to braid it over her shoulder.
Remus looked up from the Daily Prophet and smiled at her. “Pretty again”, he commented and she winked back, helping herself to a piece of his toast.
“So did you have any success?” Remus asked. Lily sighed and shook her head.
“Absolutely nothing,” she said, licking jelly off her lips. “I tried every kiosk and every bookstore, even the public library.”
Remus shrugged, “It was very unlikely from the beginning.”
“I know,” she said slowly and blinked, when her eye caught on the front page of the Daily Prophet. Remus followed her gaze and sighed.
“Don't read that,” he said. “It's rubbish anywa-”
But Lily had already taken the paper out of his hands and turned it around.
Newest research results imply that the so-called magic executed by Muggleborns is rootedly different from the magical abilities that Pureblood Wizards possess. “We cannot even call it proper magic,” Augustus Rookwood, spokesman for the Department of Mysteries, said in yesterdays news conference. “It is a well-known fact in the Mystery Research that magic becomes more refined and precious the more generations of wizards it has been passed through. If it spontaneously appears without any stabilisation by a wizarding blood line - as it happens with the so-called Muggle-borns – it is a malformation. In the best case, it is a crippled, weak variation of magic, macabre but harmless. But in the worst case, it can be dangerous and impulsive, busting out without any control and harming innocent bystanders. Luckily, the Ministry for Magic has a well-endowed and modern research program, funded by-
Remus pulled the Prophet out of her hands with determination, then he ripped it in half.
“A malformation,” Lily echoed the words in the article. She wasn't even angry anymore. She just felt empty.
“Don't even think about that shit,” Remus said resolutely, crumpling up both halves of the newspaper and stuffing them inside his teapot warmer. “That’s just propaganda, Lils.”
“I know,” Lily said slowly, watching the candle eat the newspaper away.
“Think about Mary,” Remus said quickly. “She’s a muggleborn and she duelled like a fucking Auror at 16 years old. Or Caradoc Dearburn. Remember him? He was a prefect when we entered Hogwarts. One time he made every pumpkin in front of Hagrids hut dance samba. That was no crippled magic. That was wicked!”
Lily smiled and looked up at him. Remus was returning her gaze with a grin and covered her hand with his to give it a gentle, encouraging squeeze.
“Don’t let these assholes wear you down, Lils. Your magic is beautiful.”
Lily gulped and then nodded slowly. There was a comforting warmth in her chest as she looked down on their intertwined hands, absent-mindedly following a scar on the back of Remus’ hand with her index finger.
“I’d be dead without you, Remus,” she said quietly.
“I’d be dead without you, Lils,” he answered, and even without looking she heard the smile in his voice.
“As sorry as I am to interrupt this heart-warming scene,” a cold voice stated from the door-way. “But I’d like to ask you two to refrain from these public displays of affection in my kitchen.”
“How is it public if it’s in a private kitchen?” Remus asked in an annoyed tone and turned his head to look at Severus, who had appeared in the doorframe, his dark cloak wet from the rain outside.
“This is my house, werewolf,” Severus spat. “So I assume you will understand that I can install all the rules I want here.”
“It’s okay, Severus,” Lily stepped in quickly, seeing Remus face darken.
“Also,” their host said, not actually appeased. “My neighbour, Mrs. Fletcher, has just informed me that she watched a strange, suspicious man enter my house this morning. She was very interested who my visitor was.”
“Oh,” Lily hummed. “That was me. I- I borrowed some of your Polyjuice.”
Severus looked at her, face like thunder. “I do not care about the potion, Lily,” he hissed. “But this neighbourhood is very quiet and you must avoid to raise any suspicion. I suggest for the length of your visit, you both stay inside.”
And with these words, he turned around and left the kitchen, his swinging cloak resembling a wet, angry bat.
JAMES
The pub was loud and dirty when James squeezed in, almost getting run over by a group of tipsy, elderly women. It was 7 p.m. on a Friday night in muggle London and as expected, there wasn’t room to swing a Kneazle in the taproom. After a few seconds of confusedly looking around, James detected a slim figure in the corner of the room, nursing what looked like a glass of wine. With many may-I’s and Excuse-me’s, James made his way through the room, not without dropping a wink towards the curvy bartender and signing her that he wouldn’t mind a pint.
Finally, after politely letting a fighting couple pass him, James had reached his goal and was standing in front of the corner table.
“Black,” he greeted the young man, who was now looking up from his wine glass. Regulus face always confused him, combining Sirius’ familiar features with a slender chin and uncomfortably deep brown eyes. “I got your patronus. Couldn’t find any less crowded place to meet up, could you?”
“Crowded means it’s harder to eavesdrop,” Regulus answered, tucking a strand of his fringe behind his ear. It was too short though and immediately fell into his eyes again.
“What do you want to talk about that would be worthy to overhear?” James asked casually, squeezing on the chair opposite. Regulus’ patronus, a silvery marten, had interrupted him at work, where he had been half asleep over a long-overdue report. The marten had looked at him with a deadly stare and its message had only consisted of “Meet me at seven” and the pub address, nothing else. Black family manners.
Regulus did not answer the question, but instead looked him up and down with a sceptical look on his face. “Didn’t you have an exam of Concealment and Disguise in your Auror training?” he asked, giving James’ bell-bottom curderoy pants and knit-vest a judging look.
“And I passed with top marks,” James answered and helped himself to a sip of Regulus’ wine. It tasted dry. “Why, do you think these pants are out of style already?”
When he looked up, he could see a pink blush on Regulus’ pale cheeks. Must be the wine, it was quite strong for a slim boy like the youngest Black.
“N-no,” Regulus said, somewhat looking annoyed.
“Then what was that question about?” James asked, but then he was distracted by the pretty bartender who had just arrived to serve him his pint. “Thank you, darling.”
“Whatever you need,” she answered and dropped him a wink before she returned to the bar.
Regulus had watched their interaction with narrow eyes.
“Anyways,” he said now, resolutely snatching his wine glass back out of James’ hand, “I needed to talk to you. About Sirius.”
“What about him?” James asked in honest confusion.
“I’m sure you know that he has lost his wand,” Regulus said with a face like thunder. “To a werewolf.”
“Yeah, I know,” James answered slowly. “We’re trying to get it back. But I don’t see how this is –“
“It’s not only that someone else has his wand,” Regulus said quickly, leaning forward and lowering his voice, “But that he has the werewolfs wand now. They basically swapped with each other.”
“And?” James asked, still confused but now with the taste of beer on his tongue.
Regulus lowered his voice even more. “When we were children and our parents would lock us in separate rooms, we switched wands beforehand because our uncle Alphard has taught us a charm which allowed us to talk to each other through the wands, as long as it was a one-to-one switch up.”
“Talk to each other?” James blinked. “Like a phone?”
“I don’t know what that is,” Regulus hissed and spoke even faster. “But the connection between the wands transported our voices. And two weeks ago, when Sirius told me the story of the werewolf and St. Mungos, I reminded him of the spell. He has not mentioned the wand-situation since, but yesterday he came over to visit and we had a – a strange conversation. He asked me if I think werewolfes are mistreated by society.”
“Merlins pants,” James said. The sickle finally had dropped. “You think he – he talks to Lupin via their wands?”
Regulus nodded slowly, his eyes wide and meaningful. “And you know how Sirius is – just so –,” the younger Black struggled to find the right word. “Impressionable,” he settled with.
James sighed and gave him an assuring smile. The poor boy had been worried sick by the thought that his older brother could grow moral believes that would separate them and he wanted James to do something about it.
James leaned forward and put his hand on Regulus’ forearm, returning the younger mans alarmed look with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Reggie,” James said, gently patting Regulus’ wrist. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
Regulus blushed even harder and didn’t look the slightest bit less concerned.
SIRIUS
Sirius was laying on his belly, legs in the air wiggling like a schoolgirl and a dumb grin plastered all over his face while he listened to Remus’ deep voice from his wand, telling him a story about a prank he had done when he had still been in school. The sun was setting just now and his room was glowing from the pink light shining though the six-foot banks of windows.
Sirius had waited all day to finally tell Remus the good news, that he had managed to get him and Lilys cases dropped and that he, Sirius, was the hero responsible for that miracle. It had only taken him a little trip to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement today during his lunch break to find out that his blackmail towards Lucius had worked nicely. Nothing like a naughty little affair to get a powerful man to do crumble.
“- and that’s when my long and noble career of running away from the consequences of my own actions began,” Remus finished the story and Sirius chuckled. Just do it, he thought to himself strictly.
“Well, I have bad news for you then,” Sirius said as nonchalantly as humanly possible.
“Oh?” Remus sounded a bit more awake at that.
“You'll have much less opportunity to practice this particular talent in the future. Because you won't be on the run for much longer,” Sirius said.
He heard Remus draw in a breath sharply. “Does that mean -”
“Yes,” Sirius confirmed. “As per usual, have done the impossible and made my contacts play. A friend of mine will look into your cases and encourage to file them away.”
There was a moment of silence during which Sirius gently swirled his butter beer in its bottle. Then Remus asked disbelievingly, “You have done that?”
“Yes,” Sirius confirmed. “I told you I would, didn't I?”
“And it's that easy?”
Sirius rolled his eyes. “Sorry to tell you, but you're not exactly a public enemy. Going after you two is just everyday business.”
“Everyday business,” Remus repeated in a hollow tone.
Sirius sat up. “Shit,” he said. “I didn't mean to – you know what I mean, don't you?”
“Yeah,” Remus answered. He laughed dryly. “It's just – this is my life, you know? And you can just – do some small talk and ask a favour and solve all my problems.”
Sirius frowned. “Not all of them. Just the – being chased thing.”
“Yeah, well, it's a fucking good start,” Remus answered.
Sirius felt kind of disappointed. “I thought you'd be happy about that,” he said, putting away his warm butter beer.
“I am,” Remus assured. Then, after a moment, “Thank you.”
“You're welcome, “ Sirius said, smiling again. “There's just one thing ...”
“The wands,” Remus said immediately. Did Sirius imagine the unhappy tone in his voice? “We'll have to switch them back.”
“Yes,” Sirius agreed. He looked at the slender hazel wand in his hand. He'd miss it.
Remus cleared his throat. “How shall we do that then?” he asked.
None of them mentioned that switching their wands back would mean not being able to talk to each other anymore. Sirius was well aware of that, and he was sure so was Remus. But there was no other way.
“I thought about it,” Sirius said. “And unless you want to tell me where you are -”, Remus just snorted, “- I thought it would be easiest if you could come here.”
“Come where?” Remus asked sceptically.
“To my house,” Sirius said carefully. “Through the floo. You'll be able to find a floo connection, won't you?”
“I mean – sure,” Remus said hesitantly. “But how will I know there won't be a whole squadron of Aurors waiting on your side of the floo? How will I even know that my case has been filed? And Lilys?”
“There's a list in the Daily Prophet,” Sirius said. “With the names of muggle-borns currently looked for. You search Lilys name and see that it's not on the list anymore.”
Remus seemed to think about it. “You could just manipulate that,” he finally said.
Sirius hummed. Remus was not wrong.
“There's no way I could actually prove to you that your cases are dropped except for you to literally come to the Ministry,” Sirius answered and rolled his eyes.
There was a moment of silence, then Remus said, “Get our files.”
“Excuse you?” Sirius asked disbelievingly. “Get our files,” Remus repeated. “If our cases are dropped, no one will ever need to see them again, right? Them missing won't be noticed. And that way I could be sure that you're telling the truth.”
“And how am I supped to hand you the files beforehand, you genius?” Sirius asked. “Will you give me an address to owl them to?”
“No,” Remus said, matter-of-factly. “Just keep them there at your house. I'll take them with me.”
Sirius blinked. “Could still be a trap though.”
“I know,” Remus said. “But I really have no better idea.”
Sirius hummed.
“How do I know I won't step out of the fireplace and you'll stand in front of it and hex me?” Remus asked. This question Sirius had expected.
“I won't be there,” he said. “You can just stick your head through first and check. I'll leave my wand – and the files – on our kitchen table and I'll be upstairs.”
“Could still be a trap. What if you're standing around the corner, with someone elses wand?”
“What if you just take both wands and leave?”
“What if the wand is a mockup that's been portkey-ed and will send me straight to Azkaban?”
“What if you'll bring Lily and you two will hide in the house and later strangle me in my sleep?”
Remus snorted, “Lily would never agree to such a plan. She is way too smart.”
Sirius chuckled. “Look, there is no way we could switch back our wands without any kind of risk. We'll just have to trust each other.”
“I'm so going to regret this,” Remus muttered. “But okay. I agree. We'll do your stupid little plan.”
Sirius grinned. “Great,” he said. “The address is Potter Manor, Cambridgeshire. There's a password on the floo that I'll only tell you shorty before.”
“Alright,” Remus agreed.
There was an excited bubbly feeling in Sirius chest that had nothing to do with the usual tingle of the wand connection.
“How long will it take you to get the files?”
“Peter will talk to his superior tomorrow. So I should be able to get the files tomorrow night.”
“Peter?” Remus repeated. “Peter Pettigrew?”
“Yeah,” Sirius said, surprised. “Do you know him?”
“ … no,” Remus said. “Just read his name in the Prophet.”
“Ah, well, he's a mate,” Sirius said, even though he had never called Peter that out loud ever. “Tomorrow night then?”
“Yeah,” Remus agreed hesitantly. “Tomorrow night.”
“Splendid!” Sirius grinned.
Then suddenly, there was a rumbling noise outside his bedroom door.
“I’ve got to go,” he breathed into his wand, sitting upright from his bed quickly. “Good night moonshine!” And before Remus could protest this nickname, Sirius though Finite!
“You can just come in, Jamesie!” he called loudly, quickly pushing the wand between his pillows. The door opened slowly and his partner stuck his messy head in, an almost comically unbelievable expression of innocence on his face. For a split second, they looked at each other wordlessly, Sirius sitting on his bed cross-legged and James standing in the doorframe and discreetly eyeing the room.
“What are you doing?” James asked finally, his eyes narrow.
“Wanking,” Sirius answered without hesitation. James lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.
“And what are you doing?” Sirius shot back, taking in James’ muggle clothes and messy hair.
“I was out,” James said slowly, crossing his arms. “In a pub. In London. Just came back.”
“Out with who?” Sirius asked, now growing suspicious himself. Since when did James go out without him?
“On a date,” James said quickly, as if he could hear Sirius’ thoughts.
“In a muggle bar?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. James looked down at his corduroy pants and frowned. Sirius could practically see his brain working.
“Yeah,” James finally said slowly. “I like the muggle beer.”
“I know,” Sirius said. He cocked his head. “Who was your date?”
“You don’t know her,” James said a little too quickly. “Met her at work. The other day.”
“We work together,” Sirius kindly reminded him.
“Yeah,” James coughed. “You weren’t there though. You were-“ Sirius lifted his eyebrows. “- in the bathroom,” James finished lamely. They both stared at each other with narrowed eyes.
“What was the last thing your dad said do me?” Sirius asked quickly, eyes locked on James.
James looked back at him baffled. “He said ‘Take care of James, he needs someone to look out for him’ – didn’t he?”
“He did”, Sirius agreed, relaxing a bit.
“Why do you test me for Polyjuice?” James asked, frowning.
“Because you’re acting super weird!” Sirius exclaimed. “I don’t believe for a second that you were on a date with a witch you didn’t tell be about – I was informed about every flirt you ever had within minutes!”
“Alright, okay,” James sighed. “I was out for a pint with your brother, if you must know.”
“My – brother?” Sirius stared at him, then laughed. “Ha! I would lie about that too. You loser.”
“Shut up,” James mumbled, then turned around. “Alright, I’m going to head to bed. Have fun wanking.”
“I will!” Sirius shouted after him, still laughing.
REMUS
It was 10 p.m. on the next day and Remus had never been so nervous in his life. Five minutes before, Sirius had called him and told him shortly that he had gotten the files and that the password to the fireplace in his and James' kitchen was Sleekeazy, a joke Remus didn't quite understand. Right now, Remus was standing in front of Snapes shabby little fireplace, clutching a hand full of floo powder hard enough that his nails were digging into his skin and trying to muster up the courage to enter into the home of an official Auror of the Ministry for Magic. Lily was in the kitchen, trying to charm Snapes wary fridge into letting her make dinner, and the slimeball himself was not home yet. If everything worked as planned, the whole exchange of wands would go very quickly and Remus would be back in less than a minute.
Taking a deep breath, Remus fought down all the ways in which this stupid plan could go wrong and threw the powder into the fire, which turned green compliantly. Remus grabbed the black wand as hard a she could and said: “Potter Manor, Cambridgeshire. Sleekeazy.“ Then he stuck his head into the flames.
When he opened his eyes again, there were green flames on the corners of his sightfield. From what he could distinguish, Remus was looking into a spacious kitchen, with crimson-painted cabinets and a big wooden table in its centre. The room was furnished differently from what Remus would have expected the kitchen of two bachelors to look like. There were potted plants stuffed on the window sills and polished copper pans and pots hanging on top of the stove. But more importantly, the room looked completely empty. Remus closed his eyes again and pulled back his head, the floo connection rummaging against his temples.
He was back in Snapes living room again, kneeling in front of the fireplace. He counted to ten, then grabbed another hand of floo powder and repeated the whole process, prepared to pull back his head with force, in case he would find the kitchen not as empty this time.
But he didn't. The room was still deserted. No Auror was grabbing his hair, no enemy was jumping from behind the stuffed farmhouse cupboard. Remus took a deep breath and regretted it immediately. When he stepped out of the fireplace and onto the stone tiles he was still coughing out ash.
Now that Remus had fully entered the room, he notices two things. First, there was muffled music, coming from somewhere else in the house. Not as deserted as he though then. Second, now standing, he could see that there were several objects laying on the grand kitchen table. He stepped closer, almost disbelievingly.
Remus John Lupin, the first big folder read. It was stuffed with pieces of parchment and Remus briefly opened it to check if the contents were real. Shoplifting, he read upon quickly scamming the parchments in the folder. Suspected werewolf – reported by suspects father, Lyall L- Remus clapped the file shut. That was quiet enough. He quickly checked the second folder, considerably thinner and reading Lily Evans on its cover. They had gotten Lilys birthday wrong, he noticed with bemusement.
Remus pushed the two folders away and stared at the remaining object on the table. There was no doubt. It was his own wand, warm and hazel and familiar, glowing in the dim light of the fireplace. He has actually kept his word, Remus thought in wonder and put the black wand down on the table next to his own. They couldn't look any more different, one warm and simple, the other dark and ornated. And still, Remus mused, he had been able to perform magic with the black wand just as easily as with his own.
The distant music stopped and Remus looked up, alarmed. But then another song started and Remus, who was just about to grab the files and his wand and get the fuck out of here, froze in his movement. The song was familiar, slow and gentle.
“The throne of time - Is a kingly thing.“
Remus hesitated.
I really shouldn't.
SIRIUS
Sirius was quite proud of himself. He was sitting on his bed, reading the Quibbler and ignoring the drumming sound of his own heart, knocking on his eardrums in a hurried crescendo. It took all of his willpower not to go downstairs and see if Remus was already there, if he really, actually would come. But he had made a promise and he was planning on keeping it. Getting the files had been ridiculously easy, he had just met Peter for lunch and then offered to take them back down into the archive with him. Of course, if anyone ever found out that he had taken them home, he'd unceremoniously get kicked out of the Auror Unit. But James had also said that about the acid potion incident and he was still working, so there was that.
There was a gentle scratching noise from Fleamonts old gramophone when the record changed sides. Then, Monolith started playing and for a short moment, the impulse to go downstairs was almost impossible to fight. Sirius sighed and pushed the Quibbler aside, letting himself drop square on his back and closed his eyes. It was for the better, it really was. After tonight, he would have his own wand back and no sarcastic werewolf would haunt him in the evenings and make him question everything he had ever believed in. Everything would be normal again.
There was a quiet noise, a familiar one. It was the sound of his bedroom door opening and nudging against the woolen carpet. Sirius took a deep breath and sat up again. Then, he turned his head towards the bedroom door.
It was absurd how normal he looked, leaning against the door frame, his head almost touching the top of it. He was wearing a beige knit jumper that was too big for him, hanging off his shoulders. He wasn't looking as pale as the last time Sirius had seen him, probably because the full moon was two long weeks away. The light of the candelabra next to the gramophone was reflecting on his hair. When he met Sirius' gaze, Remus lifted both hands to show that he wasn't armed. Sirius hesitated, then he lifted his own hands too, showing Remus' his empty palms. A small smile was curling the corners of his lips and he carefully took a step into the room.
“You didn't need to come upstairs,” Sirius said in a husky voice. He pushed himself to the edge of the mattress and slowly climbed off the bed, ignoring the Quibbler that slid to the floor thereby.
“I know,” Remus answered. His voice sounded exactly like it had through the wand connection, deep and husky and warm. There was a slight trembling to it though, that told Sirius that he was just as nervous as him.
“Was something wrong with the files?” Sirius asked, now standing next to the bed. Remus had taken another step, sideways this time. They were standing about two metres away from each other now, wandless and nervous, and Sirius heart was racing again.
“No,” Remus answered. His hair was of the same colour as butterscotch and needed a cut. It was curling above his ears and a swirl of it was hanging over his forehead.
“Did you come to say goodbye then?” Sirius asked. He remembered the conversation they had had two nights ago, when he had told Remus that he wanted to kiss him. The thought sent a warm, pricking sensation down his spine.
“Yes, kind of,” Remus answered. A pang of sadness stung in Sirius chest. Right, this was the end. The whole point why he told a confirmed werewolf the password to his chimney was to never see him again. Concentrate.
“What will you do now?” Sirius asked. He took another small step forward. Monolith ended and Cosmic Dancer started to play.
Remus shrugged. He was standing with his back towards the candleholder and it was painting a glowing creole around his hair, but his face was barely lit. Sirius really wanted to know the colour of his eyes, so he took another step forward.
“I'll probably leave Great Britain,” Remus said. He hadn't drawn back and there was only an arms length between them now.
“Assuming they won't bag me once I try to buy a portkey,” Remus added.
Sirius tilted his head. “They won't,” he answered. “Your cases have been dropped. You can even bring Lily.”
Remus hummed, the sound vibrating deep in his throat. “What will you do now?” he then asked. His face was still too dark to see his eyes. Damn it. “Will you just continue like before? Chase muggle-borns and be a good Auror?”
“I don't know,” Sirius admitted. He really didn't know. “You have made everything much more complicated.”
The corner of Remus' mouth twitched. “Sorry,” he said, but it didn't sound like he meant it. Sirius was taking a step sideways and when Remus turned his head to follow his movements, finally the candlelight was cast on his face.
There were sandy stubbles on his chin and cheeks, and freckles on his nose. A cut on his lower lip, almost healed. A tiny mole on his temple.
His eyes were warm and brown like chocolate.
“I'm going to kiss you now,” Sirius informed him. This actually made Remus smile, a few thin lines appearing in the corner of his eyes and he kindly lowered his head to meet Sirius lips halfway.
“I danced myself out of the womb. Is it strange to dance so soon?” Marc Bolan sang and Remus long fingers slipped around Sirius neck and tangled in his hair and Sirius could taste honey – did Remus sweeten his tea? - and the mild lingering of a cigarette and then his lips parted and his heart was racing.
“I danced myself into the tomb.”
Sirius had grabbed Remus' jumper to pull him closer, his fingers tightly clinging to the knit fabric. Warmth was flooding through his body, making his limbs tingle and his head dizzy. Sirius felt like a teenager again, when kisses had been important and meaningful and not just the thing you did before sex.
Their lips parted but they didn't let go, their noses almost still touching. Sirius looked at Remus with wide eyes, breathing heavily, and the warmth in his chest was tightening into something different, small and compact. It took Sirius a moment to recognize it was fear.
“Shit,” he whispered breathlessly.
“Yeah,” Remus agreed, mouth twitching, and then they were kissing again and Sirius arms slid upwards and wound around Remus' neck and he was shaking with fear, or maybe it was desire, probably both.
Sirius had no idea how long they had been standing like that, kissing and breathing into each others mouths, soaking in the smell of the other, the tickling sensation of Remus' hair on Sirius' forehead, stubbles scratching, pressing against the other. His mind had just reached the point of being co1mpletely and utterly blank - when there was a subdues noise from elsewhere in the house. Remus head shot up, eyes wide and full of panic. Now there was rumbling on the staircase and a fam1iliar voice yelled, “Sirius! Where the fuck are you?”
Sirius suppressed a disappointed sigh when Remus let go of him, stumbling a few steps back and staring at the door that was still ajar.
“I'm here,” Sirius answered and he could hear James enter the corridor now. Quickly, Sirius slid out of his bedroom and closed the door behind him, shutting away T.Rex and the terrified werewolf in his bedroom.
JAMES
“What are you doing?” James asked, looking at Sirius with a frown. His flatmate was standing in front of his bedroom door, hair ruffled and an expression of feigned nonchalance on his face.
“Nothing,” Sirius said, crossing his arms. “Finished practice early?”
“Obviously,” James said slowly, leaning his muddy broom against the wall and taking a step towards Sirius. “Who’s in there?”
“Who’s in where?” Sirius lifted his eyebrows, arms still crossed. He was playing with one of his dangly earrings, just as he did when he was nervous.
“In your room, Sirius!” James stated.
Sirius put a mocking grimace on his face, “Ah, I wanted to tell you for a while now. It’s Barty Crouch. I’m sleeping with him. This is why we haven’t been fired yet.”
“Very funny,” James growled, pushed his housemate to the side and ripped the door open.
Sirius’ room was empty, apart from Barnabas the own, who was sitting on the record player and turned his whole head around to stare at James with round, shocked eyes. James pounding heart slowed down.
“Charming as always, James,” Sirius said behind him in a bored voice. “Are you done being fucking paranoid now?”
“I- yeah,” James said, feeling guilty now and turned around. “I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t hang out with my brother,” Sirius informed him, leaning against the doorframe, the personification if judgement. “He is a bad influence.”
“You’re right,” James answered apologetically. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, Prongsies,” Sirius said, patting James’ back and leading him out of the room. “One of the Blacks tried to manipulated you and you folded like a sheet. That’s just natural.”
SIRIUS
When Sirius had finally managed to get James back to his room and under she shower, his pacing heart started to slow down a bit. He hadn’t dared to look back into his own room and was now praying to every god he knew that Remus was smart enough to take his chance and sneak back to the kitchen and into the chimney.
The next half hour felt like an eternity. James had thrown the newspaper in Sirius' lap and wandered into the adjacent bathroom, talking loudly over the shower about his amateur Quidditch team, the Grantchester Gargoyles. Three times a week, James fucked of to a windy Quidditch pitch in the middle of nowhere and came back with a red nose and a wide grin plastered across his face. Usually, Sirius did quite enjoy the juice gossip James brought home from the quidditch pitch. But today, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to care about the fact that their team captain, a broad-shouldered Scotsman with the fitting name Wood, had been sneaking after practice with one of their chasers, Amelia Anderson. Today, he was sitting on James bed, completely ignoring the chattering from the bathroom, and tried to detect even the quiet noise from the corridor outside. He didn't hear any though, and when James left the bathroom, pyjama pants low on his hips and a towel around his head, Sirius had no idea if he could allow him to leave the room yet.
“If you haven't eaten, I could roast us some eggs,” James offered, pulling a Weird Sisters tee out of a pile on the floor and giving Sirius a wide grin.
“Hm? Oh, yeah, okay,” Sirius agreed, hopping off the bed. “I, just – I go downstairs first, okay?”
“You're weirder that usual,” James commented, pulling the shirt over his head and throwing the towel on his bed, where it would undoubtedly not be able to dry properly.
“Thanks,” Sirius mumbled, already opening the door and peeking into the corridor. It was completely empty, but the door to his own room was slightly ajar and the music had stopped. Carefully, Sirius rushed down the stairs, looking around waryliy. James followed him, wearing an amused expression and the newspaper under his arm.
“Have you read the article in the Quibbler about Wrackspurts again?” James asked, following Sirius into the kitchen. “I told you not to believe that. There is no evidence for it.”
Sirius hummed non-committally and crossed the room with a few large steps to peer into the fireplace. There was no way of telling if it had just been used.
“Don't let your wand lie around,” James said behind Sirius back in a maternal voice. “You'll lose it one day and I'm not going to go to Olivander with you to get a new one.”
Sirius spun around just in time to get hold of the wand James had thrown his way. Sirius caught it with one hand and stared at the empty kitchen table. The files and the second wand were gone, which could only mean that Remus was too.
“So, eggs?” James asked impatiently.
Sirius looked down at the wand he was holding. The gentle light of the fireplace made the hazel wood gleam warmly. Sirius couldn't fight the smile that was spreading on his face, probably making him look like a total madman.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Eggs.”