Fic: "Everything's Got a Moral" for rian219

[smutfree_mod]

Gift for: rian219
Author: frozenish
Title: Everything's Got a Moral
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13 (mostly for language, of which there is plenty)
Summary: It's Christmas and Sirius is being sulkier than usual, so Remus tries to bring him some wholesome holiday cheer and ends up sucked into yet another unwholesome scheme (with sexy results and/or hilarious consequences?).
Notes:I hope you enjoy it, and I apologize for any Americanisms I might've left in, I did the best a habitually obnoxious American like me could to sound British.


Castles could be caustically lonely places, especially in the dead of winter when the wind whipped at the towers and howled through the deserted breezeways in a decidedly spiteful way that served to remind him that there were no bodies left to muffle the sound because everyone else was home charming fake snow on Christmas trees and enjoying gingerbread men fresh out of the oven and every other idyllic holiday activity his mind could invent. And he had no home to go to anymore.

He had been accused - and not without good cause - of languishing in his unhappiness. It certainly had to be some kind of masochistic streak that made him turn down James' invitation for Christmas With the Potters, which had promised to be lovely and warm and full of opportunities for mischief (and underage drinking) as well as somewhat holiday special-y. At least, he used the holiday special line as an attempt to explain - while he sat reading a magazine by the fire and trying to appear casual and dismissive - his declination to James. Perhaps both fortunately and unfortunately, this had incensed James so much that he hadn't even tried to persuade Sirius to change his mind and had instead turned quite tomato-ish and stomped wordlessly up the stairs to the dorms. He and Sirius had not so much as spoken since, which gave Sirius ample opportunities to sulk around and burrow himself deeper and deeper into his angst and self-imposed isolation. It wasn't until everyone else had left the dorms that he allowed himself to stop being so characteristically broody and cool about his loneliness and let himself feel a real emotion. And it sucked.

Sitting alone by the window, watching frost creep closer and closer to the edges of the pane as the temperature fell and the snow buffeted back and forth, all he could think about was that this was supposed to be better than the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. And it was not. His family was awful. His family was bigoted, frigid, and wicked. But at least when he was at that house, his passions were focused. There, he had a lot of anger, and a lot to say about it. Here there was no one to listen and no one to blame as he had obviously brought his dejection on himself this time. And as much as he hated to admit it, holidays at Grimmauld Place had been interesting. Christmas was the only time of year the giant house filled up with a seemingly endless parade of family. And in all those people, there was always at least something entertaining going on. And someone to enjoy it with. Andromeda was always there and she was... Well, a little silly, maybe, but actually pleasant to be around. And then there was Uncle Alphard who was quite crazy and very generous and who favoured Sirius unabashedly. And sometimes in all the gusto of Christmas spirit (and when they knew no one else would notice) he and Regulus still managed to pool together enough brotherly camaraderie to pull some mean-spirited prank on Bellatrix or Narcissa.

He imagined, even now as he sat wallowing in self-pity, that Grimmauld Place was already filling up with people, and everyone was pretending not to remember that he - once the scion of the immensely wealthy and archaic family - even existed. He thought, with some unnameable gloomy emotion, he must've been blasted off the tree by now.

When he was small his mother's choice threat had been banishment from the family tree. It had seemed to her to symbolize a fate worse than death and at the time, in moments of drunken hubris with James in the weeks following his escape, he had been quite proud that in all likelihood he had finally managed it. But it was harder to be proud, now, alone and sober, that the world he'd grown up in for sixteen years was forgetting him so easily.

He sighed and wondered what Andromeda was doing with no more kindred soul at the Black family reunion, and if Reggie was even missing the pranks they played... And his thoughts wandered away from his family... Whether or not James was still mad because of his dumb 'holiday special' comment, if Peter was still worrying over the much-feared divorce of his friends, and if Remus...

All of a sudden the door opened. Sirius started in alarm and whipped around, half-expecting his projections of woe to have called to his location a whole mess of Dementors.

He sighed in relief that the sight he encountered was much more welcome and pleasing to look at.

'Remus!' he said more enthusiastically than he should have, which he tried to cover by flipping his hair down over one eye and arranging himself to look more like he ought, and less like a slightly teary emotional mess. 'I mean. Moony.' He crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his voice an octave. 'I - uh... What are you doing here?'

He thought he saw Remus cock an eyebrow derisively, but it was gone in a split second and then he was moving across the room to his own bed with a flushed look of hurry on his face. 'I forgot a book,' he said rapidly, opening his footlocker and nervously raking his fingers through his fringe - he did this often when frazzled, so Sirius was well-acquainted with the gesture.

'As if you didn't take the entire library with you, anyway,' Sirius replied, determined not to let the tone of his voice betray how happy he was to have someone to talk to, even just for a moment.

'Just because I'm not completely illiterate is no need to scoff,' Remus muttered. 'Now are you going to sit there like the useless ornament you are, or are you going to help me?'

Sirius sighed dramatically. 'Oh, all right,' he said, getting up and meandering lazily over to Remus. 'But I'm not illiterate.'

'You do a good impression,' Remus retorted as Sirius flopped down on the bed.

'Your words are like razors to me.'

'The book is called Why the World Needs a Dark Side: The Dark Arts As Light's Natural Foil,' Remus said sifting through his footlocker frantically. Sirius recognised the title, much to his surprise (the fact that he could remember so many bookish words at once was remarkable even to him). He remembered the previous week, charming it to look like some very dirty form of German pornography and then planting it in Snivellus's rucksack only to make sure the contents of said rucksack spilled all over the Great Hall in front of everyone soon after.

Of course, he couldn't tell this to Moony. For one, Moony would get angry that he and James had been guilty (when Snape had accused them they'd denied it vehemently to everyone and Remus had defended them - who knows why, Sirius would've though he'd learned better than that by now) and for two, he would get doubly angry at them for defiling his library book and most important of all it would make him stop hunting for the book and leave Sirius all alone again.

'You know, I'm sure I saw that book in here just earlier today,' Sirius lied through his teeth, sliding off the bed to help as Moony began to root through the mess on the floor.

'I just can't imagine where I might've left it,' Remus said anxiously and Sirius felt a little twinge of guilt. 'Maybe if you and James and Peter didn't keep this place such a pigsty. I don't know how you ever managed to scare the house-elves away...' Sirius's slight remorse evaporated at the criticism, his rather inflated ego insulted.

'Is James still mad at me?' he asked suddenly, both out of curiosity and in the interest of precipitating conversation.

Remus sighed, shaking his head. 'You know how he is... He'll be cursing your name until the second that train leaves the station and then he'll be missing you like crazy, and whinging really loudly about it. Thanks so much for being an arsehole and making me go through hours of his damn "If Padfoot were here...", by the way.' He looked up from his search, catching Sirius in the eye so abruptly he couldn't avoid it (Remus was the master of this surprise attack, incidentally, and was always using it - quite unfairly, in their opinions - to catch James and Sirius in lies). 'Why did you do that, anyway?'

'Do what?' Sirius asked innocently, breaking that look as quickly as possible under the pretense of checking under a pillow for Remus's lost book.

'You know exactly what I mean, stop acting stupid,' Remus said. 'Oh that's right, I always forget it's not an act.'

Sirius glowered. 'If you're trying to get me to "open up" or something, this is not the way to go.'

Remus shrugged, standing up and dusting off his trousers. 'Fine. It's obvious the book isn't here, I guess I'd better go catch up with the others.' He turned for the door.

Now that was a dirty trick if Sirius ever saw one. Remus knew how he hated being alone even more than he hated talking about 'feelings' and he probably knew about the fate of his library book too and if James Potter hadn't put him up to all of this, then Sirius would kiss Snape under the mistletoe. But even if he was smart enough to see through this contemptible manipulation, he knew there was nothing to do to stop its working. After all, the whole plan hinged on that thing he hated the most: being alone.

'Moony, wait.' Sirius stood up and caught Remus's wrist. He could swear he felt a twitch run through his friend that he figured could only signify a triumphant smirk crossing his features before he turned around to face Sirius. 'I would think...' he began, defeatedly. 'You of all people have to understand why I couldn't go with Prongs,' he said earnestly, sinking back down on Remus's bed and pressing his hands together prayer-style between his knees.

Remus regarded him with this strange mask on his features, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. Whatever it was, he was thinking about it hard, though, and Sirius quickly grew uncomfortable with the silence, his eyes wandering disjointedly around the room, searching for something Not Moony to stare at.

'I do know, Padfoot,' he said finally, the mattress sinking as he took a seat beside Sirius. 'Though I think I ought to mention that it's not in the height of tact to bring it up. Fuck tact, yeah I know.' He rolled his eyes at the scornful look that had just started to appear on Sirius's face. 'And I know pride is... Well, it sucks. But I also thought it was different between you and James. After all, you made a sacrifice for the side of justice and righteousness, didn't you? I don't think Prongs pities you, mate, I think he admires you.'

Sirius didn't say anything, choosing instead to chew this over in his head before speaking. Surprisingly, it didn't taste phony at all, not like the spiel he would've gotten if this were truly a Prongs-scripted escapade to try and Save Padfoot From Himself. So he chose to answer both candidly and carefully (a difficult combination to pull off, admittedly). 'You don't think we admire you, Moony?'

Remus's lips jerked mysteriously. 'Yeah, I'm sure.'

'Well, we do. Don't you think we know how great it is that even though you're a werewolf you can come to school all these years and work hard enough to make just about the best grades in our year -'

'Besides you and James.'

'Well, honestly, Moony, if you're gunning for my brilliance, I'm sorry to say you're fighting a losing battle -' Remus snickered '- But you. You have something real to overcome. Me and James - and Peter even (but he doesn't really count cos he doesn't do much of anything, and an especially bright garden gnome could beat him in school) - we've had everything easy for us our whole lives. You had so much set up against you since you were just a little kid and you have more drive than any of us. I mean, you have to be the first werewolf Prefect in the history of the school.' Sirius looked at him expectantly.

'I don't know, contrary to popular belief, I haven't actually read every book in the library,' Remus said flatly. 'But I thought this was supposed to be about you.'

Oh damn, his plan had been seen through. 'Look, can't you just tell James that I'm sorry about what I said but that I just have to stay here? You know what it's like, just tell him I have a raging and contagious, not to mention very suddenly contracted case of dragon pox or something.'

Remus raised an eyebrow - something he'd done with infuriating frequency throughout the course of the conversation.

'Well then you think of something, book boy!' Sirius exclaimed in frustration, before remembering he was asking a favour. 'Uh. Please.'`

Remus scowled at him, his brows furrowing hard. When he finally spoke, it was in a stiff tone that sounded as if he were regretting something very much indeed. 'I guess I may as well tell you now as later. I'm not going back to catch the train, so I'm not going to be able to tell Prongs about your dragon pox.'

Sirius, who had been picking at a corner of the counterpane in order to avoid Remus's death glare, snapped to attention. 'What?' he asked sharply.

'I'm not going back because I decided, against my better judgment, that it would be cruel to make you stay here all alone over Christmas, no matter how big a prick you're currently being.' Sirius felt that guilt creeping up again. 'I reckon Prongs would've come too if you hadn't made a jab about his family.'

'It wasn't a jab, it was -'

'Well, that's how he took it,' Remus interrupted bluntly.

Sirius didn't say anything for a moment. Then he gave Remus a sideways glance. 'Weren't you just the one lecturing me about tact?'

'"Thank you, Moony, for sacrificing your pleasant holiday so that I won't have to be a lonely miserable git at Christmas,"' Remus mocked, standing up.

Sirius fought back a decidedly uncool flush of red on his cheeks. Well, now Remus had made it quite impossible for him to express any gratitude without looking stupid. So he didn't say anything.

'I know you'd rather it be Prongs staying,' Remus said, not without a note of bitterness. 'But I'm what you've got.'

Oh this was too much. Moony was trying to make him feel guilty. He had to say something. 'Thanks,' he muttered.

'Well, whatever...' Remus paused. 'You know, I didn't actually come back up here to fight with you.'

'I know you didn't,' Sirius said. Though in all honesty, he couldn't think what else would make Remus come back up to the castle to yell at him about trivial things. He felt like he ought to say something else, something to try and convince Moony he hadn't made a really bad decision in staying to keep him company. 'I'm glad you came back,' was what he decided upon, though his delivery was a little sheepish.

'You have a funny way of showing it.'

'Moony! Stop...' Sirius felt inexplicably flustered. '...Stop trying to make me feel bad,' he mumbled this last sentence, ducking his head in embarrassment.

He couldn't see what Remus's initial reaction was, but the air around them was eerily still for perhaps three seconds that felt like an hour. Then Moony made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh disguised as a sigh (which must have been quite a feat to pull off) and he sat back down on the bed, putting his hand on Sirius's back. 'I'm not trying to make you feel bad (you big baby)... I'm trying to make you feel better. Which, obviously, I'm pants at. But I know you're kind of... er... upset right now, and since I'm the only one here to help... What cheers you up more than anything, Padfoot?'

Sirius perked up considerably. Really, most of the things that cheered him up required James' presence, or at the very least slimy little Snivellus to torment, but Moony had obviously put himself out a lot and he was trying hard, and there were some very simple things that Sirius did enjoy quite a bit. 'Firewhisky?' he said, looking at Remus with an expression of barely contained excitement.

Remus looked back at him cynically, as though he were about to point out that alcohol was, in fact, a depressant, but decided against it at the last minute. 'Oh, all right. Since my charming presence by itself isn't enough to keep you entertained, do you have any plans for sneaking into the kitchens since James took the invisibility cloak with him?'

'Oh, do I ever.' Sirius grinned quite dangerously, and Remus began - already - to regret beyond all reasonable measure agreeing to cheer Sirius up.

*

'How can we create a mess so big that all the house-elves will have to be called out of the kitchens to help clean?' was Sirius's original prompt. Remus had wanted, at this point, to ask him how he ever planned to get away with this when they were virtually the only two students left in the castle (and when he was Sirius Black, whose name was at the very top of every staff member's Perennial Suspects lists - and, in all likelihood, Filch's hit list) but the look on Sirius's face when he was plotting was - ironically - so innocently pleased and he finally looked like himself again, after months of his stubborn brooding front. So Remus went along with it, fulfilling menial, if cryptic tasks (like chewing up an entire package of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum all at once and procuring an ingredient or two from the Potions storeroom with the aid of their newly finished map). Sirius sat delegating these jobs hunched over a scrap bit of parchment, scribbling madly and motioning energetically with his free hand (causing, whether intentionally or not, several throw pillows and one very alarmed and squeaking mouse to whirl ominously above his head). Remus had to admit that as Sirius got more and more worked up, he himself started to feel like he was finally shedding a heavy layer of cumbersome seriousness and unwelcome - premature, if you will - maturity.

By the time Sirius called him over to help plan and the two of them had their foreheads pushed together over the parchment, Remus was fully caught up in the moment and was talking just as wildly as Sirius himself ('We can't make it explode, we'd need at least another package of gum and three more bottles of that reddish stuff!'). When he and Sirius had jammed themselves in a broom cupboard down the hall from the kitchens to await the blast that ought to be sounding momentarily from the Slytherin dungeons, and the subsequent exodus of house-elves, he wondered briefly if this were such a good idea. But then the explosion came and Sirius giggled a little madly and grabbed Remus's wrist to brace himself as he opened the door a crack and watched house-elves - who, to Sirius's great chagrin, had not shown up on the map - pour out of a painting on the wall in no time at all to go attend to the mess.

The last one exited the scene with a kind of sordid squeak as it struggled over the threshold and - Remus and Sirius both positively squealed in delight themselves - failed in its hurry to close the painting completely behind it.

'C'mon, c'mon," Sirius urged excitedly, pulling Remus out of the cupboard by his wrist and sprinting with him in tow to the painting, where they jumped inside and sealed it tightly behind them. 'Now we have to hurry, cos I could cast a repelling charm, but I don't know if it works on elves and I think that'd make it easier for the teachers to find out, anyway,' he said thoughtfully, still eyeing the back of the painting with mistrust.

Meanwhile, Remus was already climbing on top of the counter and opening cabinets impatiently. 'Now where would they keep the alcohol...?' he thought out loud, not noticing that he'd just kicked a bag of flour over and its contents were pouring into a previously spilled puddle of syrup.

Sirius turned around in time to notice the mess in Remus's wake, though. 'Hey, Moony, why don't you look in the bottom cabinets, and I - being not quite so accident-prone - will take those tricky top ones?' he suggested amusedly.

Remus shot him a dangerous look and was about to argue before he stepped in the puddle of flour and syrup (flyrup?) and slipped (funny, he thought it would've cemented him in place). Sirius, on the other hand, had foreseen this eventuality and was there to catch him. 'See my point?' He grinned, helping Remus back to his feet on solid ground. 'I'm beginning to wonder about the sensibility of helping you get drunk, if this is what you're like sober,' he teased.

'I'm the one helping you get drunk, actually,' Remus replied smartly, wrenching his hand out of Sirius's, where it had been since Sirius helped him back to stable footing.

'Well then, let's get to it.' Sirius's eyes lit up and he jumped up onto the sticky counter to pick up where Remus had left off.

Remus paused momentarily to admire Sirius's enthusiasm. Only he could make damaging school property as a ruse to steal alcohol and engage in underage drinking look more like an innocent game of capture-the-flag. Remus was so glad he'd been able to reawaken that youthful spark in his friend. There was something so warm and pleasant feeling about watching him hop around on the counter over spilled ingredients - of which there were many - with this impish smile on his face and a look of unmitigated thrill (not to mention determination) in his eyes. Eyes that had suddenly caught Remus's own.

'Hey, c'mon Moony, we gotta get out of here before the house-elves come back.'

'Oh - right.' Remus started. He shook himself alert and bent back down by the cabinets. That had been happening more and more often recently. Even when Sirius was busy being a tormented soul he sure knew how to make people (or maybe it was just Remus) stare, but Remus was quite happier looking at this more familiar and energetic version of his friend.

'A-ha!' came the triumphant cry from above and Remus nearly banged his head on the inside of the cabinet he was currently rooting through. 'I've got it, Moony, come help me carry.'

Remus recovered quickly and extracted himself from the cabinet, looking back up at Sirius, who was busy loading his arms down with bottles. 'How much are you planning to take?' he asked ruefully, holding out his hands to accept the bottles that Sirius was now trying to pass him.

'As much as we can carry,' he answered and Remus recognised that he was dead serious. 'Well. It's not like this will be the last occasion I'll want to drink,' Sirius tried to explain, seeing the somewhat sceptical expression on Remus's face. 'And as fun as this was, I think it would be wise to stockpile.' He flashed a toothy smile and Remus gave up any protests he might have been thinking of. There was no arguing with that grin.

'You realise there's no way this will go unnoticed?' he asked mildly as Sirius jumped recklessly - arms full of firewhisky and cooking sherry - from the counter.

'Yes, well...' It appeared he hadn't thought quite that far into the future, as usual.

'Well, when it is noticed I'm sure you'll think of some elaborate cover story just like you always do and somehow manage to charm your way out of expulsion yet again...'

'Yeah and what about you?' Sirius asked as he pushed open the painting, but he merely sounded curious.

'I'll fly under the radar as always,' Remus answered, only a little smugly (and he couldn't help it - never could - a little bitterly too).

'Yeah well, what if I cut a deal with McGonagall and tell on you, too? Mr Prefect?' Sirius teased as they made their slightly sluggish way down the deserted corridor.

'Then I have a whole list of high crimes and misdemeanors committed by you I could present to her -' Remus began, ready for more harmless banter when he heard something that stopped him dead in his tracks. It appeared Sirius had picked up on it too - Remus could almost see his ears perk doggishly - and he quite abruptly pressed Remus behind a statue with his shoulder and held them both against the wall, breathing shallowly. His lips were forming that 'shh...' purse, but Remus could see the corners of them twitching excitedly and he could feel Sirius's heart beating against his own chest.

The noise was getting louder and louder, alternating blowing raspberries and mad cackling, and breaking glass, and there was no doubt in either of their minds what that must mean: Peeves the Poltergeist was coming towards them and if he saw them their evening was going to be ruined beyond all repair. In fact, their careers at Hogwarts might be ruined beyond all repair, too.

Remus's eyes began casting about for an out (actually, anywhere to look other than Sirius's eyes, which were making him very nervous) when he recognised that the statue they were hiding behind covered one of the secret passages they'd found in the course of making their map.

How convenient, he thought. 'Sirius,' he whispered carefully, nodding his head to the side.

Sirius's eyes searched his in confusion momentarily, before looking at the statue and - with a catch in his breath Remus could physically feel - comprehending.

'How?' Remus breathed into his ear.

Sirius sucked on his teeth like he always did when he was thinking fast and Remus could just barely see his eyes darting around purposefully in the dark. Then, as the volume of the raspberries and crashing glass increased, Sirius shook his head and whispered hurriedly, 'You say it, I'll push.'

Remus nodded briefly. This plan was not brilliant, but they were desperate. He hoped Sirius would really be able to make the statue open faster. He hoped they wouldn't be found when Peeves sounded the alarm. He bit his lip and tried to fish his wand out of his pocket without dropping any of the five bottles he was holding. He couldn't help pushing his hand against Sirius's thigh while he was doing so and his breath hitched. He was almost certain Sirius noticed, but there was nothing to be done about it now. He jabbed the statue with his wand and hissed the password.

The statue started moving, grating intolerably loudly against the floor - it had never sounded this loud or moved this slow before, Remus was sure - and Sirius was heaving against it with all his might as they heard Peeves hoot with glee not ten yards down. He didn't think they'd been seen yet but they would be. Then the opening was just wide enough for a skinny teenager to slip inside and he did so, depositing the bottles unceremoniously on the floor and reaching back out in one fluid motion to yank Sirius inside.

Sirius tumbled in on top of him and right outside he could hear Peeves crow happily and say something very nasty about them before beginning to whistle and clang about, undoubtedly trying to draw the attention of any conscious staff member. Sirius reached out awkwardly and mumbled something and the statue stopped and then began grating back in the opposite direction. It closed again without any incident and Remus and Sirius sat in the dark of the earthy tunnel panting both heavily and as quietly as possibly.

'I hope none of the professors know about this passageway,' Sirius whispered finally, though he sounded as though he might like the new challenge. Remus was on edge already at this point and the thought that Sirius might enjoy anymore trouble was almost too much for him to stand. However, he was nothing if not patient.

'Dumbledore knows, I'm sure,' he said calmly in reply.

There was a moment's pause, filled with heavy breathing and the nearly audible flow of Sirius's mental processing. 'Do you think he'll tell on us?'

'Dunno.' Remus shrugged, leaning back against the wall.

'Can't believe we didn't check the map before we left,' Sirius commented, sounding slightly bemused. It was pitch black in the tunnel and Remus couldn't see any of Sirius's body (even the parts that were touching his own) but he could feel his speech in breath on the air.

It must have been a good minute before either of them - and for once, Sirius was the sensible one - had the presence of mind to cast a lumos and brighten up the space around them.

'How long do you think we should wait?' Remus asked.

'Maybe an hour. If no one's found us by then I'll bet they'll have given up. It's getting late and you know how old people like their sleep.'

Remus snorted.

'And in the meantime I'm pretty sure we should crack open a bottle,' he continued, unaffected by Remus's cynicism.

'Wouldn't it be better if, when they do find us, we weren't drunk?' Remus smirked.

'I really don't see how,' Sirius said evenly, examining the label on a bottle of firewhisky quite closely.

Remus shook his head. 'Well, then you're almost certainly blind. But if we're going to get to it -' He fumbled around by his side for a bottle and, finding it, impressed Sirius by prying the cap off with his teeth '- let's get to it.'

'You know that's a screw-on,' Sirius told him, smiling much too widely for someone trapped in a somewhat smelly tunnel.

Remus let Sirius know exactly what he thought of the situation with one of his time-perfected Looks. He thought about adding in one of his less-practised but still effective punches in the stomach to really drive the point home, but decided to save that for later. He had a feeling he might need it.

'Don't tell me you're going to start being sulky now!' Sirius exclaimed in disbelief as though he had no idea why being trapped practically waiting to be caught by bad-tempered professors with a whole bar's supply of alcohol might put a prefect in a bad mood. 'You know I hate it when you're drunk and sulky at once.' And how Sirius had the gall to criticise anyone (especially him!) for being sulky... 'You go on about the "darker truths of life" and try to convince everyone you can get your claws on that he's going to die alone and friendless in the grand tradition of the universe...' Sirius complained as he unscrewed his bottle.

'Claws?' Remus frowned, studying his fingernails dubiously.

'Well, I mean, you grab people.' To illustrate the point, he reached down and seized Remus's ankle (which was by Sirius's hip). 'Literally. Though not usually by the ankle, I confess.' He withdrew. 'Normally the arm or the wrist and sometimes the collar. I believe once you grabbed me in a much more inappropriate place, though.'

Remus's scowl deepened to include a big-lipped pout (which, if he had known he was doing, he certainly would not have done). 'Not this again,' he said in his traditional tortured tone.

'Oh, my darling Moony. Always this again. You know, if you could just admit you were in love with me - and how could you not be? - then things would be so much easier.'

'If you don't watch it, I'm not going to be a sulky drunk, I'm going to be a violent drunk.'

Sirius seemed entirely unconcerned. Remus sighed, put the bottle's lips to his own and chugged.

Sirius was still smiling at him (rather dumbly, in his opinion, but he liked that Sirius was allowing himself to look dumb) and not drinking much himself. This worried Remus. He put down his bottle and exacted the glare he knew was expected. 'What?' he asked sharply.

'Oh, nothing. Just -' a kind of unnerving mischievousness tugged at the corners of his lips. 'I got you to sneak around and steal potions and blow stuff up and steal and now you're drinking...' he said this all much too gleefully.

'Oh, you've gotten me to do worse, I'm sure,' Remus said rather defeatedly.

'Well, maybe James and I together.' Sirius appeared suddenly thoughtful, his eyes (which had always reminded Remus of a dense fog when they got big like they were now) wandering up to the upper ridge of their sockets. 'But this time it was just me. I'm proud of myself for cracking the Moony Code without the help of that worthless Potter. And do you know some people think he's the leader?'

'Is that so?' Remus couldn't help but smirk knowingly.

'Ridiculous, I know.' Sirius shook his head. It looked like he was going to go off on a familiar tangent about how he was the best-looking and the most popular and therefore obviously the leader (which was all rubbish because everyone knew that no matter how clever or good-looking or obnoxious - Remus sometimes got the feeling that both James and Sirius equated the number of groans they elicited in class with popularity - Sirius was, that James was the default leader for reasons unknown even to him). But instead - and much to Remus's horror - he went down a much less oft-tread and more uncomfortable road. 'But all the same, if I can get you to do all this just for me, you must really like me.'

Remus froze. He felt he really could use another chug right now, but how little Sirius was drinking was really starting to seem suspicious to him and he certainly was not going to get drunk if Sirius was going to be both sober and prying. ''Course I like you,' he said casually. 'You're one of my m'best mates.'

'I know that, Moony,' Sirius replied, his tone almost - but not quite - entirely unfamiliar.

'Then why're you looking at me so weird?'

'Am I?' Sirius was wearing his I'm-nonchalant-really expression, but Remus was not going to be fooled.

'You're looking like you're about to eat my face or something.'

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' Sirius raised his eyebrows.

'Oh shut up, you pouf.'

'I'm the pouf?' Sirius looked incredulous. 'You're the one with the man-crush on me.'

'Oh please, Sirius, even if I were going to fancy boys I certainly wouldn't fancy you.' He tried not to think about the fact that even as he was saying this he was thinking how good Sirius looked with his hair in his eyes and a toothy grin breaking his face (and it was true that not thinking about what you were thinking was quite difficult).

'Well, who would you fancy, then?' Sirius asked teasingly.

Remus felt himself flush and not from the drink. 'No one, because I don't fancy blokes!' he insisted.

'Oh fine, Moony, I'm just messin' with you.' Sirius dropped it, finally, looking disappointed. No doubt, Remus surmised, unhappy that he had failed in yet another attempt to Out Moony. It was almost like Sirius had an obsession and Remus could not for the life of him figure out why his friend was so deadset on the idea that Remus was gay. 'You said earlier that you know I'd rather it be James who was staying with me,' Sirius said suddenly, running the tip of his index finger around the mouth of the bottle in his lap.

'Well, yeah.' Remus didn't see where this was going, but he wasn't sure he trusted the new, eerily focused look in Sirius's eyes.

'Why?'

'Well, I imagine cos he's your best mate and -'

'No, I mean, why'd you say that?'

'Because I know you would. He is your best mate and -'

'You're not listening to me, Moony,' Sirius cut him off, speaking with the air of one explaining the alphabet to a particularly dimwitted kindergartener. 'I don't care why you think it's valid, I wanna know what made you say it.'

Remus knew then that he was in trouble. Sirius only used words like, 'valid' when he was calculating. 'I - oh, I don't know, I just said it.' He was getting slightly cross. He didn't know what Sirius was playing at, but he didn't like it.

'It's not because... Maybe you said it cos you're jealous? Or maybe you said it cos you wanted me to say that it wasn't true and I wanted you here as much as Prongs?' Remus barely even noticed that Sirius was leaning forward intensely with that hard focus in his eyes, he was so taken aback - and angered.

'You fucking arsehole how the hell can you say that to me - how can you be such a bloody prick when -' He hadn't realised that he was leaning forward in anger, too, and it came as a terrible shock when he felt Sirius's hand on the back of his neck and his infuriated speech (which wasn't really going anywhere anyway cos he couldn't think how to articulate just how hostile he was feeling except to spout off some more nasty names) was cut short by Sirius's lips. Remus's eyes popped open, suddenly quite aware of his position and nearly had a heart attack seeing Sirius's closed eyes and thick lashes not an inch in front of his.

He panicked and pushed Sirius back. 'Fuck! What the hell, Sirius?' he demanded. For a second he thought... But then it dawned on him that this was obviously just another ridiculous ploy to get him to come out of the closet. Well, he wasn't going to be tricked.

Only... He had expected Sirius to start laughing or maybe just stare at him with that unfathomable look in his eyes and a maddening smirk on his face, but unbelievably... Sirius didn't look amused. He looked a little hurt, in fact. Or annoyed, which was odd.

'What's wrong with you?' Remus tried again to prod a response out of Sirius, but his efforts went unrewarded.

Sirius just shook his head and looked away, finally taking a long drink of his firewhisky.

'Oh jeez, are you pouting now? Why are you pouting?' Remus was still quite angry, and even angrier perhaps that Sirius was adopting this attitude that made it difficult to be anything other than confused.

'I'm not pouting and if you're going to be that way then I'm going back to the dorm.' Sirius stood up and made to open the statue.

'Are you insane?' Remus shot to his feet and grabbed Sirius's arm before he could.

'No,' Sirius argued unconvincingly, yanking his arm away.

'Well then, what is going on with you?' Remus asked, trying to inconspicuously position himself between Sirius and the exit. 'Please sit down and talk to me.'

Sirius shook his head again and turned back away from Remus, but sat down all the same.

'There's nothing going on with me.' He didn't even seem to believe himself.

Remus hesitated to do anything - to press the issue further - and really, why should he even help Sirius when he was being such a jerk, but... He couldn't help it. This was his friend. That's what you do for your friends. He stepped forward haltingly and sat down a couple of feet from Sirius's side. 'You just... kissed me, Padfoot, I think I have the right to ask "what the hell?"'

'It was a joke, Moony.'

'I know - I mean, that's what I thought. But you didn't laugh.'

Sirius shrugged. 'Wasn't as funny as I thought it'd be.' He hadn't looked Remus in the face since then.

Well. This approach was getting him nowhere. Maybe he should just forget about it. Oh, who was he kidding? Forgetting about it was impossible. Sirius had kissed him. Sirius-fucking-Black, most unattainable sexual fantasy of more than half the female population - and by liberal estimates, ten percent of the male population, too - of the school. Okay, admittedly it hadn't been much of a kiss. To Sirius it must have been like practise-kissing the back of his hand for how much Remus had contributed. He pressed his fingertips to his lips absently, trying to remember what it felt like and caught Sirius watching him. He pulled his hand away as if he'd just realised it were an acid pop and snapped to a straight-backed position, only to find that made the rocks in the wall dig very disagreeably into his spine. He thought a trace of a smirk returned to Sirius's face at this reaction, but he looked away just as quickly.

Oh, this was ridiculous. Was Remus going to have to deal with him being so sullen and distant for the entire holiday? The more he thought about it and the more absolute the silence around them became the more unsatisfying Remus thought it sounded. Dammit, and this evening had started out so promising (well, on the Cheering Up Sirius front, anyway).

He took a drink of his firewhisky and noticed that ever since that cursed kiss Sirius's lips had become surgically attached to his bottle. Remus watched him out of the corner of his eyes for a moment and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing he could think of was at all acceptable, so he closed it again. His teeth made a hollow clacking sound that echoed in the emptiness.

'To hell with it.' He threw his bottle against the wall where it smashed loudly and when Sirius looked up, startled, Remus reached over and grabbed his collar, yanking him forward until their lips met (so hard they would probably bruise) and kissed him. He hoped Sirius was feeling as mortified as he had, it was only fair. He certainly wasn't doing much. His lips were full and hard under Remus's and completely immobile. It really was like kissing the back of your hand, Remus thought, feeling quite ridiculous with open, wet lips on not only a bloke but one of his best mates.

He pulled away finally, hoping the scant lighting would hide the furious blush on his cheeks. 'There now, we're even -' he began, but before he could get out his intended 'Now can we go back to normal?' Sirius had grabbed his tie and - completely over the shock, apparently - was kissing him energetically, his tongue in Remus's slack-jawed mouth before he even had a chance to protest. True, his first instinct was to freak out and push him away again. But that was only when he examined the situation - as he was prone to do - from a rational standpoint. When he didn't think; when he just was... What he was was kissing Sirius Black and it felt good. This must be how Sirius did it - flying on autopilot all the time. Well, it seemed to work out for him for the most part, so maybe Remus should give it a shot. At least... For right now.

So when Sirius backed away and opened his mouth to - apologise? Explain? - Remus put his hand over it. 'I don't want to hear it,' he instructed firmly. 'Don't fuck it up with your dumb head games this time.'

Then he took his hand away and settled back against the wall, leaving Sirius's mouth hanging open in amazement. He got over himself quickly. 'Why Moony, this is certainly a new side of you,' he said, a subtle tint of amusement in his voice. 'You smashed a bottle and ravaged me and now you're giving orders. I like it.'

Remus shrugged, trying not to smile. What a drastic shift in mood from only seconds earlier. He watched Sirius's face in the sharp shadows of wand-light with renewed interest, and said quietly to himself, 'How strange indeed,'

'Curiouser and curiouser,' Sirius replied absently.

'I didn't know you read, Padfoot,' Remus teased.

'Sometimes I wonder what you see in it, is all.' Sirius shrugged. 'I liked that one. Though, if I were Alice, I think I would've liked Wonderland more than home. At least Wonderland didn't have her pushy bitch of a sister bothering her.'

'Well, she missed her home. She was alone in Wonderland.'

'Seemed like she was more alone at home, to me.' Sirius paused thoughtfully, then turned to Remus. 'You get that, don't you?'

'Yeah, 'course I get it,' he said simply. If there was one thing Remus was good at, it was understanding (and for all the trouble it had created him among eleven-year-old boys, being labeled 'sensitive', the talent came in handy sometimes). And even when he didn't understand - Sirius kissed him again, quickly this time, as if testing the waters - he was always ready to learn.

There would always be something to learn, he knew, later that night when finally they ventured out of their hiding place and made it back to Gryffindor Tower, where they were surprised to find no McGonagall waiting there in a tartan dressing gown to hand out a lifetime's worth of detentions. He contemplated on the nature of life's many and varied surprises while he sat in bed with Sirius's head in his lap, talking and not talking, but mostly getting drunk as promised. He felt like he'd come to a great conclusion when, whether it was late at night or early in the morning, he and Sirius had agreed, exchanging sloppy, whisky-smelling kisses, to certainly not tell James and Peter about any of this, but that it was okay if they kept doing it. And finally, when he was slipping off to sleep propped up against the pillows, he was proud of himself for helping Sirius.

*

Long after Remus fell asleep, Sirius was still awake. He was better at holding his liquor, having had more practise, and thought it really charming how Moony got more and more affectionate with each drink. Judging by the remnants of a goofy smile on his face, he'd gone to sleep happy. Sirius was glad for that, but more often than not alcohol turned he himself into a red-eyed insomniac, and tonight seemed no different. He removed himself from the bed as carefully as one could half-drunk, and made his slow way over to the window, only tripping once. The frost on the panes was complete now, and he could only imagine how dreadfully cold it must be out there in the elements. He pressed his face to it, trying to see if he could make out any of the grounds through the thick, snowy fog. He couldn't, and the window just made his nose cold, so he gave up and settled himself in the almost-but-not-quite-comfortable chair beside it. Grimmauld Place would be silent now, too. Everyone would be asleep, most of the guests would have left to sleep at their own houses. At night, even during the holidays, it was still the same old wicked place. And it would be frigid.

He glanced back at the bed where Remus was sleeping much more peacefully than usual, no doubt lulled into the deepest corners of unconsciousness by the firewhisky. He was snoring. He never snored close to the full moon; Sirius always assumed he could never sleep well when he knew it was coming. But he didn't know that Sirius rarely slept that soundly either, recently, and could often hear him thrashing around in his troubled slumber. But now Remus was comfortable and warm and secure, and Sirius thought, if Remus could do it, maybe he could too.

It was always easier to sleep as Padfoot, so he transformed and hopped up onto bed beside Remus, his considerable doggy weight making the mattress groan. He sniffled at Moony's face with his wet nose and padded in tight but still clumsy circles which would have woken Moony under any other circumstances, and settled himself down on top of the covers, against the warmth of Moony's body.

*

When Remus woke up, Sirius was curled in a very foetal position against his chest, his face buried in Remus's neck, the corners of his lips just visible, and turned into a smile of simple contentment.