Chapter Text
Sirius, Remus had decided last night, staring at the ceiling of the Marauder’s dorm, was a fly. This whole situation was just like any other, completely plausible and totally socially acceptable. Two teenage boys succumbing to some more drink inducing acts. Just a harmless snog, a chaste kiss, not all that world altering in Remus’ opinion. It was perfect too, the lights all slightly dimmed, a nice and lonely corner, with all other partygoers away from said corner, both participants ready and willing. Textbook stuff, if this were a novel, Remus would’ve seen it coming from a mile away. Normal, regular, completely ordinary. All but for one thing, a blip in Remus and Thomas’ comfortable, stereotypical party snog; a fly on the wall. Sirius, who was as decided, a fly, and was now, the fly on the wall. To Remus, a bug lover, this whole thing was like squashing an insect. For one, the God-awful buzzing had stopped, but beneath his palm was the brutally murdered corpse. The mother mosquito of some bloodthirsty hatchlings. The father fly of hungry wriggling baby maggots. The crux of the domestic bug family quivering, dying beneath his foul tempered hand. And by Merlin the guilt was unbearable. In his strange analogy, Sirius was the buzzing insect. Just this time, the bug was… begging for his secrets? And simultaneously, Sirius was too the wriggling maggots, starving after not being fed such secrets. Whatever, Remus supposed this wasn’t very well thought out. But the point of all this tripping over true meanings was that after he committed the rare bug massacre, the guilt that followed was embarrassingly palpable. Trailing him like a kicked puppy. Sirius was that kicked puppy. Fitting. And Remus was feeling that same bug squashing guilt again.
Merlin, guilty? For kissing some bloke in front of some other bloke? It’s not like him and Sirius are an item. They were just friends! But hell, what a thought. Sirius and Remus, an item. It was picturesque in his head. Clear as a moving photograph. Hands intertwined, knocking shoulders and hips into one another as they walked, every girl and every gay seething in jealousy. Because Remus got Sirius Black. Sirius Bloody Black, as Lily would so often say. Remus mentally slapped his brain across its face, or front or whatever. Oh goodness I am getting distracted. Talk about fantasies and never-will-be’s, Remus was all too good at dreaming them up really.
Though, Remus sighed into his duvet, waiting for the moonlight outside his window to fade into orange as the sun woke from its slumber, as the days moseyed along, and Sirius got ever the dourer, he regretted Thomas more than ever. It began on one cool, sleepy morning. Four boys, and their lady counterparts beside them, groaning into eggs and mugs of tea. The Gryffindor table was laden with towers of food. Fresh scones, glistening strips of fatty bacon, perspired slices of fresh colourful fruit, soft white slices of round bread. But to his severely hangover-ed brain, it was all vomit inducing forbidden fruit. Remus, freshly woken up and dreading whatever malicious revenge Sirius seemed intent on subjecting upon him, Remus was not mentally prepared for anything except his cup of tea; this morning, it was decidedly not made by Sirius. Nor was his breakfast. So, when James, spry as ever, even after an absolute drunken mess of a party, asked Remus: ‘Who was that bloke you were snogging last night Moony?’ Remus could only sputter.
Oh, Merlin he had felt sick. Was this where it all came out? The confession, he meant, not the vomit. Was this his best opportunity to ever come out to his friends? The welcoming pot of gold at the end of his big gay rainbow? Maybe, but Remus didn’t think he was ready for that. Instead, he did what he did best. Deny, deny, deny, lie.
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Remus had muttered, poker face scouring away the bumbling idiot that was Remus before being threatened with the idea of getting outed. Now he was all game.
‘Really?’ James pressed, ‘I was so sure it was you, with some Ravenclaw dude.’
‘Absolutely no idea what you’re on about James.’
‘I’m like, ninety percent sure it was you,’ James snorted, and Merlin and Morgana why was he still talking about this, James shrugged, but not to answer Remus’ question. ‘And I know that handsome face pretty well.’ He finished.
Remus scoffed, rolled his eyes, feigned ignorance. He could do this. He glanced about, Peter was watching the scene with interest, from what Remus could tell with Peter sitting next to him. James was confident, he too, was intent on proving a point on this matter, but Remus couldn’t tell why. This is not the kind of thing James Potter cared about, he was always in the best interest of his friends. Always, no matter the situation. Remus glanced at Sirius and- ah, that’s what James was fighting for. He was stabbing maliciously at the pile of scrambled eggs on his plate, glaring at him, a dark and quiet fury in his eyes that was stabbing Remus in the chest. I don’t have whatever answer you want, Remus thought, trapped between his three friends and being interrogated for some question he didn’t know what he was supposed to respond with.
‘Do I seem like the kind of person to snog people at parties?’ Remus challenged, lifting an eyebrow.
‘No, which is why I find this so monumental’ James explained, glancing around the table and gesturing fervently at the others. Peter gave a vigorous nod, Sirius kept glaring, massacring his eggs.
Remus sighed, levelling a look at James, ‘James I neither snog Ravenclaws nor boys.’
Oops, he could feel the swivelling of heads around him. Flashes of blond and red, which must have been Lily and Marlene. Peter made a confused face, James shared a look with Sirius, one which communicated too many words. Words one could only understand if you were James and Sirius, two souls intertwined through years of tight friendship, and then, brotherhood. James looked somewhat surprised, pity colouring his face. Sirius met James’ gaze, he, among other emotions gathering in the grey of his eyes, looked like he was about to bombarda the entirety of the Great Hall. Remus felt like he was invading, and actually really didn't want to know their opinions of the matter now that he thought about it.
Well, Remus hadn’t meant to say it, but he was almost glad. Because Merlin, was this just common knowledge? It’s like he just said he didn’t drink tea or wasn’t particularly interested in reading. Either that or they thought he was totally into Ravenclaws. Was he a bent boy that looked bent, or just totally obvious?
But that had been Monday, and later, on a slightly brighter Wednesday, Remus had been proud to say he had avoided circling back to that subject with any of his friends for a full forty-eight hours. The period after his first class, Remus just so happened to have a study session. And in his usual fashion, meant making his way to the library, to he and Lily’s special table, and then, eventually, to Lily. And hence that moment it would be peace, tea, and textbooks at last. Or so Remus had foolishly thought. Lily happened to be in a rather… aggressive mood. Already sat at their table with her hand fisted on the table. The corner seemed angry itself, in its own way. The books were all falling over one another, the golden filigree dimmer, the books binds all a shade greyer. The homespun charm of it all was replaced by a mild domesticity, Lily’s annoyance seeping into every cosy corner.
‘I think you’ve made our corner upset.’ Remus had mumbled as he tentatively placed his book bag upon the table, already layered with papers, wax dripping on them from the single candle.
‘The corner is upset!?’ Lily growled, ‘I’m upset! Remus John Lupin if you had any chance before you don’t now!’
‘What’s that supposed to mean!’
‘I mean what the hell did you pull at breakfast on Monday!’ Lily scoffed, rolling her eyes like it was obvious. Remus supposed it was, in a way.
‘I panicked! James put me on the spot!’
Lily just sighed, placing a hand on her brow and falling into it. ‘Yeah, he did. I told him it wasn’t cool earlier. Expect a heartfelt apology very soon.’
Remus shrugged, dropping onto the broad cushioned bench opposite Lily’s chair. ‘The cat will get out of the bag I suppose. Just count on James to be kindly ignorant of that kind of stuff’.
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘Coming outs. Opening the closet doors, y’know?’
‘S’pose so. He’s the kind of guy that says, ‘love is love!’, and don’t get me wrong heartily believes it. Just… doesn’t realize plenty of people don’t.’
‘That’s the thing. I want to come out to them. I really do. But sometimes when I say things it makes them feel… really real. Does that make sense?’ Remus asked. Glancing up at Lily, she nodded sympathetically. Remus blew a breath of air out of his mouth. ‘It seems I wasn’t so slick, though. Nobody seemed surprised.’
Lily snorted, ‘Well that’s not true. Me and Marlene didn’t seem surprised. Sirius seemed more crestfallen than shocked, and James looked at Sirius like he was more crestfallen for Sirius than shocked at the opposition of his estimates of you.’
‘Oh yes,’ Remus laughed pitifully, ‘crestfallen.’
‘Jesus, Remus. Sometimes I swear you contradict me just to contradict me.’ Lily groaned, throwing a hand in the air, the candle's flame flickered angrily with the movement.
‘I’m not trying to be difficult Lily. But this is Sirius we’re talking about. Smart, beautiful, absolute ladies’ man. I doubt he’s all that upset with a lack of… well, me.’
‘Alright Remus, this is all I’m going to say and don’t you dare make some pitiful self-loathing argument back. You are smart, you are incredibly beautiful, half the bloody girls in our year are in love with you. Is it that hard to imagine someone like Sirius falling in love with you? Because it doesn’t shock me one bit. Two sides of the same coin, you two.’ Lily argued, no shortage of finality in her tone, punctuated by the parchment she was pulling from her bag. Remus sighed, it was hard to imagine. Imagining being anything but Sirius’ other best friend was… easy to put in his mouth, but impossible to swallow.
Lily proceeded to gently ignore him for the rest of the period, and Remus was content to sit back and indulge in crafting some poetry. Proof to the situation that was crowding the foremost area of his brain, most of the words he put on the page were that of black-haired boys and breaching heavy friendships. Passing the point of no return. Purely platonic, versus romance.
Wednesday was a story of the past though, for today was Friday, and mercifully, Remus’ least tiresome day. With the whims of a teenage boy who was currently avoiding his friends and being far too neglectful of the studying he should be doing, Friday called for a good ole’ sneaking around Hogwarts hidden passageways. With the Marauders Map of course. The dilemma with the Marauders Map it seemed, was that it was constantly being lost between the four boys all using it for different ventures. Remus for skulking about the grounds unbothered, James and Sirius for pulling pranks sans being caught red handed, and for Peter… well for whatever Peter did.
“Accio map.” Remus tried, giving his wand a flourish. Complete stillness. Thankfully, the empty dorm room saved him from embarrassment. Alright, Remus barely had a choice in the matter. He would rather die than rummage through Sirius’ belongings, same goes for Peter, albeit for different reasons. That left James’ or partaking on his walk without the map and subjecting himself to the threat of other hallway-goers. No, that just wouldn’t do.
Remus threw on a sweater, not bothering to change out of his uniform trousers or dress shirt. He strode to James’ trunk, as always, the clothes spilling over the case and onto the surrounding floor. Remus never understood how he didn't trip over it each morning. Or maybe he did, oftentimes Remus was too engrossed in whatever he was writing or reading or listening to to spare a second thought for his surroundings. Remus gingerly tossed the clothes aside, James usually kept the map in his bottommost compartment, which meant braving the swarms of clothing. Nestled in between a pristine, most likely never opened book and a quidditch magazine were various parchments of different shapes and sizes. Remus filtered through them quickly.
‘Ten Quidditch Tips for Upcoming Keepers, ‘Holyhead Harpies New Seeker Strikes Fear In Other Teams’, a clipping from last year's quidditch world cup, ‘How to Make Lily Evans Fall Irrevocably In Love With Me, Remus laughed at that, he’d relay it to Lily later, First Years Guide to Transfiguration, little late for that James,How to Make Remus Confess his Feelings To Sirius In 10 Easy Steps, Keepers Guide to-
What was that? Remus flipped back to the last piece of parchment, How to Make Remus Confess his Feeling to Sirius in 10 Easy steps.
Oh, Merlin and Morgana, you have got to be kidding me. Remus groaned, allowing his head to fall into his hands. Perfect, oh so perfect. He resisted the urge to glance at the ten easy steps below, but his gaze kept being dragged downward against his will. Wow, he really was that obvious, wasn't he? Did Sirius know? Was this a collaborative list, he sure hoped not. Worse, was this an elaborate plot to toy with his feelings? They wouldn't do that, Remus glanced down at the list, well, this is clearly some sort of joke. Remus inhaled, allowing his hands to slide down the page and flick it upright.
Number 1: Make sure Remus actually likes Sirius in that way. Check.
Number 2: Force them to become partners for the inevitable Amortentia class. Check.
Number 3: Refrain from making comments about trying to find Moony a girlfriend. Check, just barely.
Number 4: Make sure Sirius is half naked like all of the time. Not a problem.
Number 5: Help Sirius get over his crippling fear of rejection.
Number 6: Make sure Sirius knows Remus is gay. Check, cheers Thomas. Never mind, bugger. Go plan B!
Number 7: Make sure all pranks and escapades result in broom closets, shared detentions, or cleaning in duos. Check, courtesy of Filch.
Number 8: Ensure Remus and Sirius know we would be comfortable with them being together. Duh.
Number 9: ‘Accidentally’ tell Sirius the password to the prefect's bathroom. Double points if it's Saturday. Lily and his designated spa night.
Number 10: Make them kiss, whether this is a push, a game, a broom cupboard, a drunken embrace. I’m sick of Sirius daydreaming aloud and narrating it rather than doing it!!!
Oh wow, Remus could kill him. He could slaughter James. Lop off his head and leave it at the top of the Great Hall with his little list rolled up between his teeth like a declaration of war. If there was one thing Remus hated more than prejudiced, poncey, purebloods, it was meddlers. Little weasels, worming their way into you. Remus, initially albeit, hated when the Marauders began meddling in his Lycanthropy. Hated when Lily dug his most awful crush out of him and tried, time and time again, to force his hand. Hated it just now, when he discovered James, though it really wasn't so surprising, was meddling in his incredibly delicate and secret feelings for his best friend. That wasn't even to push the main issue: how does he know? Doesn't he care? Was this not some monumental discovery? If it was, would he tell Sirius? Does Sirius know? Remus groaned into the parchment, running a clammy hand down his face. No, no. He would know, because if Sirius knew, the world would have imploded already.
James’ list was all wrong anyhow. It implied Sirius would reciprocate. Impossible, and that means Sirius would have to be Queer also. Double impossible, Remus saw how many girls he went through weekly. It says Sirius’ Amortentia smelt like him. Which was a foolish hope, absolutely unfeasible. What would that even smell like? Overall, though, it was a catalyst. What if Sirius found it? Where Remus was level-headed, cool, and kept his heart tucked beneath his sleeve; Sirius was a blazing inferno, hot sparks spitting out from an open flame.
So Remus got his pitiful salvation, and his petty revenge.
He arranged the paper on James’ nightstand, with a flick of his wand muttering ‘incendio’, and watching smugly as the parchment burst into flames and settled into a neat conical pile of ashes.