When you walked into the room just then (It's like the sun came out)

Remus has been tossing and turning so much in bed that it stopped being funny at five in the morning, even if he got into his bed at four. It was the impression of proximity and closeness to a new face that had him hysterical for the brief hour he dived between his sheets in the same clothes and one of his shoes. He hasn't even closed his eyes before jumping off the mattress into the bathroom.

He's dead tired when he turns on the bathtub faucet to sink into the tub, and he knows he's going to scare more than one of his students if he keeps up with this mediocre sleep routine that gathers darkness under his eyes and a terrible temper.

Tossing his clothes carelessly into the laundry basket, Remus tries to forget the incessant, oppressive heat from his cheeks by disguising it with the steam from the water he just got in. Feeling like a child again, Remus pulls his knees to his chest shaking off the soap, the faucet still stirring the water. He rests his head on the bump of his knees, trying to relax with breaths and remembering key moments in his life that serve to clear his head.

Among them, he recalls the first time he ran away from the orphanage to enter a library by himself. It was when the stripes on his face were still pink and healing, keeping him in a state of total anxiety due to the stinging it caused him. He finally learned the meaning of the letters, the stories hidden in the leaves collected in colourful, patterned covers that were so plentiful in his mother's library, and Remus was eager to know more.

To walk into that place, even on a day as stormy as that one was, in baggy clothes and shoes that were not his size but with the most euphoric expression the saleswoman in that store ever saw on another boy. 

Remus found his home there, amidst the mismatched furniture that housed the stories and the wonderfully brave characters that starred in them, and the intoxicating smell that abounded as well as the atmosphere, causing his escapes from the orphanage to multiply on more than one occasion.

With that memory comes his mother, connected by books, rocking him on her lap while his father cooked dinner in the kitchen. Memories before the tables were turned.

Remus smiles wistfully, before his fingers uncover the old white and pink relief that decors few hidden spots of his body. This action stops his trip down memory lane in fear of being swallowed by a terrifying black hole.

Remus turns off the faucet when he realises the water is about to bulge over the sides.

He takes his self-care and cleaning session in stride, hoping it will make up for the dearth of sleep he's acquired lately. The excess water makes a mess on the bathroom floor every time he moves to clean himself, but he doesn't mind so much either.

Stepping out and putting on his bathrobe, he sets about drying the mess in a lazy and inefficient manner, but decides that's the problem for tomorrow's Remus (or at the rate he's going, a few hours' Remus).

He gets dressed, eats breakfast and combs his hair starting to look at the clock, takes his caffeinated meds (bad combination) and decides to use the remnants of makeup he still has from his teenage years to try to cover his dark circles under his eyes (without much success). He takes advantage of the time he has to finish correcting things and walks out the door in a sweater, an old cardigan, his jacket and his charismatic yellow scarf. Plus a thermos with what must be his sixth coffee of the morning.

† † †

Arriving at work, Remus can't help but feel terribly envious of the energy that seems to overflow from each and every one of his students.

Remus doesn't meet Sirius this morning as Harry comes in hiding among the ginger-haired mob that is the Weasley family. His absence leaves a strange feeling in his throat, but Remus blames his insomnia for it.

“ Good morning, Professor Lupin. “ Oblivious to the dark cloud surrounding him, the two boys greet him with a bright smile as they interrupt his quiet conversation about which superhero is the most powerful.

Remus makes the effort to smile at them, but since they don't pay as much attention to him on the way to their desks, he doesn't get much of a smile either. Taking advantage of the brief minutes before the bell rings and reading begins, he uses his arms as a shield and rests his eyelids for a moment. Luckily, the incessant noise of children pacing back and forth across the room keeps him awake enough not to make a fool of himself and cause a bad impression.

Finally, the bell does its job and all the students obediently fall silent in their respective seats. Remus allows himself to sigh and gain enough strength for the day before getting up.

“ Well, good morning, everyone. I hope your English homework is done, because we are going to correct it together. “

† † †

It's half past twelve in the afternoon when Sirius finally wakes up from his deep, lying nap. First he doesn't do much: wakes up tied in sheets and opens his eyes for a moment so brief that he doesn't know if he's really awake. He groans and then wakes as if the last six months have been nothing but a dream.

He doesn't think about Harry, or his two jobs, or the people who are no longer in his life. And several minutes pass in which he enjoys that thought, unconsciously pushing reality and enjoying the moment. Unfortunately, it's not long until reality hits him in the stomach.

That doesn't make him get out of bed either, just open his eyes. And for some reason, he feels the opposite side of the bed empty, even if it’s always been this way (well, not always: millions of times he's been invaded by Harry). 

Even with his brain screaming for him to stand up, Sirius remains lying down, his hand reaching out across the empty surface of the bed trying to find something that is no longer to be found.

Pacing the emptiness, Sirius doesn't remember when he got to bed or when he fell asleep: he only remembers returning the tie to the professor-oh, that same tie.

Tangled around his wrist like a very vague and weak thread is the garment that is so out of place with almost anything in the house: garishly colored yet elegant enough to go unnoticed unless you take a cautious look, formal and tailored to a style of dress Sirius hasn't felt against his skin in years. His mouth twists as he turns on his back to inspect.

It was Harry who found it among the couch cushions, so Sirius just grabbed it and left it somewhere else hoping to remember to bring it and failing miserably at it. Now wriggling through his ringed fingers, he can't help but smile at the sight of three letters delicately stitched into the most hidden part of the garment.

R. J. L.

“ Remus John Lupin. “ He recites remembering the first time they were introduced. “ Wolf, Believer of God, McWolf. “ He can almost hear the young professor's voice in his head. “ Adorable. ” And in a whisper, he lets the ribbon slip through his fingers like water, falling softly onto his chest. He doesn't even have the strength to pull the tie away and just leaves it like that, his arms taking up a posture behind his head.

It's been a shitty night, but at least it's been long.

He’s dreaming about him again. And about her. And of course, of them too. He dreamt of blood, a liquid that even though it is very familiar to him (both for his work and his life) he can't get out of his head. That darkness, that opaque state, thick and so difficult to remove.

He has dreamed of drowning in memories, the voice of who he once considered his brother screaming at him and scratching at his skin that it's not enough. That he's never been enough and that Harry won't last long under his care. And as much as that memory on this morning hurts him, what hurts more is that he knows he's right. How is a disaster going to take care of an earthquake?

And Sirius smiles at the ceiling.

“ Why? “ Before realising it's not a cheerful smile, but rather one filled with sadness and bitterness. “ Why did you choose me as godfather, Prongs? Why did you let...? Someone so fragile- so small and clever under my care? Why-? “

But he can't finish, because the tears won't let him.

† † †

“ Professor Lupin. “ Feeling that his wrist is now only acting as muscle memory, Remus ceases to be able to register the letters presented to him in the short essays he corrects and simply ticks and crosses where his body tells him to. Lifting his tired eyes, he meets the disastrously charismatic curls of his student Hermione.

“ Yes? “ As if having second thoughts of doubt, the girl stands at the edge of the table thoughtfully, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. “ What's wrong, Hermione? “

Without saying much more and avoiding any eye contact with her teacher, Hermione slides a sheet of paper across the desk and places it in the pile in front of Remus.

Finishing her brief task she hurriedly runs back to her seat, where her friends whisper subtly glancing in his direction.

Curious, Remus picks up the blue sheet from among so many, grateful to switch off for a second about what's on it.

Dear Professor Lupin,

Mom says we have to be thankful for the things we have that happen in our lives. So I am thankful for what you did for me yesterday.

Thank you for teaching me that being different is not a bad thing.

Att: Hermione

Remus can't help but be moved by such delicate words and his gaze drifts to his student, who analyses him with her heart in her fist. With just a glance, Remus thanks her and she seems to be able to breathe again.

That little message gives him the energy he needed to finish the day.

† † †

Remus doesn't understand why he is so nervous (that's a lie, he knows perfectly well why but refuses to accept it), but when the bell indicating the end of the day's classes does its job, his heart, which was so calm, travels at the speed of light to his throat.

Everything he has managed to forget thanks to the tiredness and his work, is gone, and now only shame remains.

He feels like choking when the children start to raise their little hands pointing at their parents so they can go home, so he takes off today's cardigan before appearing very soaked.

“ My mom is coming to pick me up today! “ Draco exclaims excitedly as Hannah Abbott's parents wave goodbye with the little girl in their arms. “ My mom is the best! “ Continues the excited child. Even if Remus only listens to that conversation in the background (since Draco only shares the news with his friends), Remus feels his joy with some bitter nostalgia.

“ That's great, Draco! “ Harry exclaims, almost as excited as him.

“ It's been so long since we've seen her! That's great! “ Hermione adds.

“ But wasn't she busy working? “ Exploding the party balloon, Ron blurts out his comment, receiving several nudges and a kick from which he complains.

“ Mom promised me! “ He explains offensively and with his head held high. “ And a Malfoy's promise is the most precious thing in the world! It can never be broken! “ He continues with a chest full of pride.

Even if he knows the right thing to do is to keep his head on Alice Longbottom's explanation of how gardening has helped her son come out of his shell and how she recommends Remus should implement it in his classes, his ears are focused solely on that little group in the back.

From the papers McGonagall left him, it didn't take Remus long to understand that the Malfoy family in his class, is that Malfoy family. The one full of wealth, land, and adding their family name to political affairs bit by bit. In the days he has been teaching, he hasn't even managed to see the marriage that all the gossip magazines want to know more about, seeing only the various babysitters coming to pick Draco up on his behalf with a silver-colored card carefully signed by Narcissa Malfoy and the date of the day. If what Draco says is true (and by the stars rising in his eyes from the illusion, that had better be the case), Narcissa Malfoy is going to show up at his charter school class (no one understands what a golden-spooned child is doing at such an institution, but they don't question it either) and he's bundled up in a old cardigan and with terrible dark circles under his eyes. He can't help but feel a little self-conscious and inferior.

“ Professor Remus! “ Bustling around pushing an old green trolley with a bunch of bags hanging from every possible side appears Mrs. Weasley- Molly, with a warm smile that he is quick to return.

Expressing her positive opinion about the Longbottoms' proposal, Molly doesn't let the trolley, which Ginny, the youngest, is probably sleeping through, sit still.

Remus does his best to participate, while keeping one eye on the children and one on the door in case the remaining parents or guardians show up. So overloaded is his head with chores that the black hair and grey eyes don't cross his mind until it's too late.

“ Padfoot! “

Happy to see his godfather after a night apart, Harry doesn't even hesitate for a second to abandon his friends and leave the conversation in the air to greet him as always: running to him and jumping into his arms waiting for those in black leather to catch him. When they do, the two spin around on their own axis amidst laughter and an affectionate embrace.

Because of all that movement and the boy's squeals, the professor's attention turns to them for an instant, only out of the corner of his eye, not paying much attention, but when the face registers on his head he almost abandons Molly's one-sided conversation and jumps out the window.

“ Have you been good today? “ Sirius asks Harry with the most radiant of smiles.

“ No! “ Harry exclaims with the same happiness.

“ All Prongs! “ Affectionately, Sirius ruffles Harry's hair who uselessly and without much effort tries to run away from the caress to keep the black swirl in his hair under control.

For a moment, Remus almost hopes that Sirius will grab Harry's backpack and leave without another word, but that wish is denied him as he walks towards the small group with the boy still in his arms. And Sirius seems to enjoy this torture, as his smile becomes more dazzling as he gets closer. Remus does his best to keep his distance and disguise the redness that Sirius' mere face reminds him of this morning.

“ Mrs. Weasley! “ But it's not him he has greeted, and Remus hates himself for feeling some disappointment.

“ Oh, sweetheart! “ She exclaims, wrapping the two of them in a warm embrace. “ Molly, I told you to call me Molly! “

“ You know I can't help it. “ He replies with a mischievous grin that she answers with a tap on his arm. That impact causes Sirius to reposition Harry against his chest, who comfortably plops down on Sirius’ shoulder with his arms around his neck. “ Thank you so much for taking care of him tonight. “ He continues to tell her, wrapping his nephew in a cautious hug and managing to divide the conversation.

“ Nonsense! “ Molly exclaims, waving her hand as if waving away a fly. “ You know Harry's like a family at this rate. “

“ Still, with seven kids adding another one to you is a bit.... “

“ Bah! You know the more the merrier! “ And even if the conversation doesn't go with him, Remus knows perfectly well that what the short woman says, is totally true.

“ Well, we'll be on our way now. “ With the boy asleep on his father's back, the Longbottoms seem to decide that nothing is keeping them there anymore, so they decide to return home, saying goodbye to their son's teacher. The Weasleys, after sharing four words with Sirius full of appreciation and affection and an invitation to the best dinner of their lives, decide to follow in their footsteps and return home when Mr. Weasley comes back with the twins and Percy.

So following that list, Remus expected Sirius to be next. 

But no.

Even if Remus is brazenly sitting at his desk sticking his head between words he's now unable to read because his mind is elsewhere, Sirius remains there, standing there in his black leather jacket and Harry running around with Draco and Hermione.

He doesn't know what he's waiting to leave for, but Draco and Hermione are the ones who stop him there and force him to stay to find out.

The minutes pass quietly, with only the children running back and forth amid laughter as background noise. When the Grangers pick up their daughter, Remus knows he doesn't have long until he runs out of excuses to make room.

Especially when Sirius doesn’t play with the kids anymore and is coming closer to his table.

Sirius seems to want to close the distance between them by the casual way he leans his back against the blackboard without giving much thought to the chalk on it (that is no doubt going to transfer onto his clothes). 

Remus can't escape without being too obvious (and he knows it, he knows it hatefully), and having him behind makes it so he can't concentrate in the slightest on what he's trying to do without having the need to roll his eyes every five minutes to see that the figure still not moving.

An inexplicable rage bubbles up in his heart when the other's one posture looks like one of the most overpaid models in the world.

And it doesn't get any better when Sirius pulls a piece of cloth out of his pocket and starts playing with it without putting too much pressure on it. His tie. How on earth could he forget his tie a second time?

That sequence reminds him of this morning, and he sinks even deeper into his papers begging to the gods that Sirius would opt to leave immediately.

“ I've been on time. “ But the gods- Sirius, they don't seem to want to hear it. With his heart flying a mile a minute, he makes the effort to turn to face him, regretting it almost instantly. In doing so, he hasn't even been able to lift his gaze beyond the unkempt beard of several days, too cowed by the lips buried in it. So as naturally as he can with his head held high enough, he goes back to his business, pretending to correct things when the reality is that he's drawing a panda on a post-it note.

And he thinks he's off the hook, that Sirius has taken the hint and isn't going to insist much more. But then he approaches the table, each step he takes echoing louder and causing that much more echo in Remus' hysterical heart. He rests his hands on the wooden board and leans forward, the pendants around his neck dangling and clanging against one other, like bells announcing the arrival of an angel in heaven.

“ Nice panda. “ And when he lifts his face and meets a glacier of grey head-on, an angel has indeed arrived delivering his halo to Sirius' mouth.

Remus' throat goes dry. “ Thank you. “ And if it were possible for his soul to leave his body, no doubt his would have left him when Sirius's dimples sink the mountains of his cheeks.

“ I've been on time. “ He repeats with eyes as bright as a child's on Christmas morning.

“ I've noticed. “ And whatever answer Sirius was expecting, it wasn't that by the way his mouth twists and his smile hides.

He should feel bad for being responsible for taking away his tremendous beauty, but what he really feels is relief. And it only increases when Sirius finally moves away from the table. Remus drops his eyes back to the paper.

“ Is this about last night? “ And okay, maybe Remus doesn't know how to manage his strength when he's taken by surprise and breaks the pencil he was using in half, but in his defence, the pencil was already quite splintered. ” Sirius is startled, but he doesn’t comment on it either.

The honest answer would be a yes: seeing his face right now is the start button of a system that Remus doesn’t know how to manage, because suddenly his mentality has changed from that of a man in his twenties to a teenager who hasn’t shared intimate contact with anyone.

But Remus is not going to expose himself in that way, so what he ends up saying is: “ I don’t know what you’re talking about. ”

“ Look ”. By entering his personal space to turn the conversation into a more intimate one, Sirius manages to make Remus jump out of his chair, the two pieces of pencil flying in opposite directions.

This quick reaction puzzles both Sirius, with his word in his mouth, and Remus, deciding whether it’s possible to die of shame, and if so, may he be one of the lucky ones.

Returning to an old habit he had when he was younger, Remus pulls away his non-existent hair from his face behind his ear, his gaze falling on the floor to avoid any possible eye contact.

“ I understand. “ And Sirius moves away from him, giving the space that Remus longed for and now regrets wanting. “ I’m. . . sorry. I should have listened to you when you first told me. We don’t share that kind of relationship, and we shouldn’t. I suppose it’s been really awkward for you that I practically forced you to come to my house, even if the intentions were good. “ The little he dares to look up, Remus observes how Sirius rummages through his pockets until he gets something out of them. The tie. The bloody tie. “ I hope you don’t mind that much, Professor, and that Harry isn’t affected by my actions. ” As if it caused him physical pain, Sirius leaves his garment on the table, taking seconds longer to spread his fingers.

And only then, all of Remus' panic suddenly turns into discomfort, so suddenly that the impression he leaves is very emotionally heavy.

And think of all those times when, as a young man, people abandoned him without explanation, and how the questions in search of why got stuck in his throat, creating a plug so hard and thick that it kept him bent, looking into a sea of doubts and questions he could never ask.

And now look at him, doing the same thing with Sirius, and that’s not fair.

Looking at him again, he must breathe a sigh to fill himself with courage.

“ Harry won’t be affected by anything, because there’s nothing he can do. ” He begins to say when the eyes of Sirius (burdened with guilt) meet his own. “ I... I say and do many things without thinking, and then I’m afraid of the consequences, so I avoid them. ” Even if Sirius is not aware of it, Remus finds it fair to show that small part of him, since last night, because of his nightmares, he learned something from Sirius. “ And that’s my fault, so don’t blame yourself. ” Behind them, Harry and Draco are arguing about something. “ I’m sticking to the idea that our... relationship must respect certain limits, and I won’t lie to say yes, I found it uncomfortable to go to your house. ” His hand is reunited with the tie, not far from where Sirius' fingers play nervously. “ Not for nothing, but because I don’t know you. I’m sure if you went to a complete stranger’s house to sleep, so would you. “ Sirius' laugh is too close.

“ Perhaps you’d be surprised. “ And with good reason: they are close again.

“ Perhaps. “ And his smile perks up. “ My point is, I’m not offended or anything, it’s just- I’m bad at managing my thoughts. ”

“ Then that makes two of us. ” And it’s at this very moment that Remus is able to look him in the eye and remain hypnotised. Drowned in understanding and transported to another universe where there's only the two of them.

“ Yes, I made it! “ Breaking the atmosphere and, most likely, the door, a woman with a long chestnut mane bursts into the classroom with her face lit up and gasping, her hand holding a piece of paper with great force.

Draco, who until a few seconds ago was happier than a partridge, stands completely still in place, his smile snatched away.

“ You shouldn’t be here. “ He says to the newcomer. She, trying to regain a minimum of composure, throws her mane backwards and fixes her expensive uniform for wrinkles.

“ Mr. Malfoy. ” She greets him politely. “ Mrs. Malfoy has done everything possible to come and get you, but a situation has arisen at the office that has made it impossible, so I’m coming in her place. ” Walking straight to Remus, she hands him one more of the cards he had received from the babysitters who had come to pick up Draco. ”

“ But she... “ The little one begins to complain with a broken voice. “ She promised me. The promise of a Malfoy- ”

“ Excuse me, sir, but Mrs. Malfoy has ordered me to be quick. We must leave immediately. “ And without further ado, the girl takes the child’s backpack and stretches out her hand waiting for him, making sure that there is no problem with Remus.

As the two leave, Remus' heart withers a little as he remembers how excited the boy was waiting for his mother. Remus just expects the woman to compensate him properly.

“ Draco, wait! ” But, as always, Harry reads his friend’s emotions faster than many children his age, so when he remembers his favourite toy in his backpack, he doesn’t hesitate to give it to him to cheer him up. Unfortunately, when that idea runs through his mind, Draco is no longer in the building, so he has to run.

“ Harry! “And behind him, Sirius does it too, grabbing his things and the child’s at an incredible speed after saying goodbye like a bullet.

Only at last, Remus clings to his table tie.

He has to learn to get stupid ideas out of his head.