Fanfic: Nudging
Title: Nudging
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: James decides it's time to take matters into his own hands.
Ever since he had forced a confession out of Remus, James felt like he was watching his friend with completely new eyes. He noticed the way that Remus' glances might rest a bit too long on a guy, and yet he hardly looked at any of the girls around him. After full moons, when he was well enough to go to class, yet tired enough that he was never able to pay full attention, he might end up staring at another boy in class with that glazed look that every other boy got when fantasizing, then turn red when the professor called him out on it.
Now they were sitting at supper, and some poor, oblivious younger girl had come over to flirt with Remus. She had undone her school shirt just enough that you could see the beginning of her cleavage, and feeling constantly deprived of this, the other three Marauders were busy staring at her breasts. It must have been part of why she liked Remus so much, that he looked her in the face when talking. If she only knew that he wasn't interested in the least.
There was a cough, and they looked around to see Regulus Black standing behind the girl, looking around at them with a very condescending expression.
“Lupin,” he addressed Remus. “I have a note from our illustrious Head Boy, regarding the next Prefect meeting.”
As the parchment exchanged hands, a second, folded piece of paper seemed to materialize from nowhere, to be handed with the first. With a half-nod, the younger Black walked off. Remus read the first note, looking bored. It was after it seemed that everyone was paying attention somewhere else that he slipped the second, folded parchment just under the edge of Sirius' plate.
It wasn't the first time that this had happened; Sirius had explained with a sneer that Regulus had been forbidden from conversing with him, probably from fear of being 'infected with Muggle sympathy.' This didn't do much to stop them from communicating. If anything, it helped spawn their creativity in how to go about doing so in secret. Lately the preferred method seemed to be through Remus, under the pretense of Prefect business.
“I just don't get it,” the girl was saying. James was a little embarrassed that their companion's name was lost to him. “He just looks like we're so putrid.” It wasn't hard to guess what she was talking about. “He's just so...”
“Cold?” James supplied.
“Pompous?” was Sirius' input.
“...Dainty...” Everyone turned to look at Remus, who looked slightly embarrassed. “What? He is.”
Sirius was shaking his head, looking torn between being bewildered and amused. “I have never heard him described like that before.”
“Well...he's all...small and...y'know...everything he does is just so light,” Remus tried to explain. “Even the way he walks. And he's got those pretty little hands...”
“...Pretty little hands?”
“They're all soft and white and manicured-looking. Just because I think a boy has nice hands does not make me gay,” Remus snapped.
James eyebrows shot up. He felt like laughing. Sirius already was laughing, although at something completely different. Sirius leaned forward to whisper, and James leaned forward too. Somehow everyone else managed to get blocked out.
“I'll tell you a secret,” he said. “They are manicured.”
“Like you have room to talk,” Remus whispered back. “I know to what lengths you go to get your hair all pretty and shiny like that.”
Sirius smiled sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair. James wanted to slap him; it was known infamously as Black hair-that was, all of the Blacks had thick, beautiful hair that always did exactly what they wanted it to do, no matter what. Sirius' was always in perfectly-planned disarray. Regulus', on the other hand, somehow managed to stay neatly parted and untangled even after a Quidditch match. James desparately wanted to know how they did it, but Sirius just fluffed it when it was mentioned, Remus would laugh, and Peter would shrug and say that some people had everything.
Remus stood and announced that he was headed to class. James managed to shove a last piece of toast into his mouth and run after him. He knew that they had at least a few minutes before the others followed.
“You just lied to them, you know,” he said. “Saying that you aren't gay and all.”
“I never said that I wasn't gay,” Remus said, getting a little smug smile, which usually told of a prank well-done. “I just said that thinking a boy has nice hands doesn't make me gay. Don't tell me you haven't admired another bloke's looks, because I know you have. Anyway, as good-looking as Regulus Black is, he's not my type.”
“...Guys are typed?”
Remus came to a halt. “You are the most sadly oblivious person I have ever met. Why do you think that girls like some guys better than others?”
“That's not what I meant,” James said, starting them walking again. “What I meant was that I didn't realize that you did. I'd think that you didn't have much to choose from and all.”
“I can be however picky I want. And Regulus is too pretty for me. Anyway, I'm not stupid.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean that even if I was attracted to him, it wouldn't ever happen. For one, he's not gay--”
“That you know of.”
“He's not gay. Two, I've got Muggle blood, which means I'll always be 'dirty' in his eyes. And three, there's just something bizarre about the thought of being attracted to your best friend's sibling.”
“Alright,” James said, moving to walk backwards in front of Remus. “So you've said what isn't your type, so what is?”
Remus smiled. “Wouldn't you like to know.”
“Come on, the rest of us have shared, it's your turn.”
“I like my guys tall, with more muscle, and rather less proper,” Remus said. “I've got too much of that well-behaved attitude as it is, I don't need more.”
“Ironic, seeing how you aren't that well behaved,” James said. “So basically a guy like Sirius.”
Remus stopped suddenly. “Never say that again.”
James looked at him curiously. “Why? Too weird again? Or are you just not attracted to him.”
“No, that's not it. Nevermind, just don't think about it.” Remus walked quickly past him, looking upset.
~*~
Remus was downstairs in the common room attempting to explain something to Peter on the homework. Sirius had gone off, saying quietly that he had to talk to his brother. James was glad, not just because, as Sirius sometimes joked, there was hope for the boy yet. It gave him time to think.
He felt like banging his head into a wall. He knew that he got himself into a bad situation. It was unavoidable, being the very best friend of one and having forced the other to confess. So now he was under oath to never reveal the truth about Remus' sexuality, and was held by the bond of almost-brotherhood to keep Sirius' love for another bloke a secret.
He was now considering the idea of nudging each toward the other. It was a delicate procedure; if it went wrong he could end up with one or both angry at him, or he could get the urge to vomit from the mental images brought up. The latter was more of a danger with Sirius, and although he loved his friends, he didn't want to think of either like that.
Of course, James had other incentives as well; he was now positive that Remus was attracted to Sirius. He was tired of watching the two of them mooning over each other when they thought that the other wasn't looking. Remus sighed miserably if Sirius ever had a date with a girl, and Sirius would glare so hard at any girl that approached Remus that she practically ran away in fear.
What might be required, he decided was a strategem. Or simply a well-planned conversation. He found the latter to be a much more preferable idea.
~*~
“I think you should go for it.”
Sirius sat back on his heels and looked at his best friend suspiciously. “Go for what?”
“Tell Remus how you feel.” James straightened up, wiping his forhead.
Sirius laughed. “Potter, you are off your rocker.”
“You two are in here for detention.” They looked around to where Madam Pomfrey stood, hands on hips. “And you are lucky that I am allowing you two scrub my floors together.”
They bent back down and were silent for a time. James felt a little bad. It had been a week since he talked to Remus, and it was surprisingly hard to get Sirius alone. He had intentionally gotten them detention, and even wheedled Madam Pomfrey into putting them together, in hopes of talking to his best friend in relative privacy.
“I mean it,” James whispered, leaning his head close to Sirius'. “You're his type.”
“I didn't know Moony had a type of bloke.”
James nearly choked at his slip-up. Tricky business indeed, not giving anything away.
“Well, if he had a type,” he amended. “I mean, think about it. There's that Irish bloke that he was friends with for a while, although he turned out to be a bit of a psycho. And he chose you over him. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?”
“Oh, I don't know. He could think that I'm a freak of nature and hate me for the rest of his life.”
“Padfoot, he already knows you're a freak of nature. And anyway, he wouldn't hate you for feeling something you can't help. He's a werewolf, for God's sake.”
“He only feels stuff against his will one night of the month,” Sirius said. “I feel it every day, and suffer dirty sheets from it every morning.”
James shuddered. “Too much information, mate.”
“What makes you think that it'd be worth it anyway?”
James paused. “Well, he doesn't date.”
“He's a werewolf, for God's sake,” Sirius echoed. “He has this thing about people hating him, afraid of losing people's love, all that.”
“Well, there you go. He won't hate you for the rest of his life because he wants your love.”
“Oh, come on. He's been nice to people he hates with a passion because he doesn't want them to be mean to him.”
“Are you being the devil's advocate?” James snapped.
“The what?” Sirius looked confused.
“...I heard Remus say that to someone once. Told me that it's someone who argues for the sake of arguing.”
“No, I am not,” Sirius said.
He was quiet after that, though, and James was satisfied to see Sirius scrubbing with a vengence. He had gotten to him. Hopefully he could just let everything brew, and not have to get involved any further.
Notes: I call this "completing the circle." It's the last chunk of a series of one-shots I did, starting with Advice. I had two versions sitting around on my computer, and I chopped them up to take the bits I liked.
The entire list of stories can be found HERE
---
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: James decides it's time to take matters into his own hands.
Ever since he had forced a confession out of Remus, James felt like he was watching his friend with completely new eyes. He noticed the way that Remus' glances might rest a bit too long on a guy, and yet he hardly looked at any of the girls around him. After full moons, when he was well enough to go to class, yet tired enough that he was never able to pay full attention, he might end up staring at another boy in class with that glazed look that every other boy got when fantasizing, then turn red when the professor called him out on it.
Now they were sitting at supper, and some poor, oblivious younger girl had come over to flirt with Remus. She had undone her school shirt just enough that you could see the beginning of her cleavage, and feeling constantly deprived of this, the other three Marauders were busy staring at her breasts. It must have been part of why she liked Remus so much, that he looked her in the face when talking. If she only knew that he wasn't interested in the least.
There was a cough, and they looked around to see Regulus Black standing behind the girl, looking around at them with a very condescending expression.
“Lupin,” he addressed Remus. “I have a note from our illustrious Head Boy, regarding the next Prefect meeting.”
As the parchment exchanged hands, a second, folded piece of paper seemed to materialize from nowhere, to be handed with the first. With a half-nod, the younger Black walked off. Remus read the first note, looking bored. It was after it seemed that everyone was paying attention somewhere else that he slipped the second, folded parchment just under the edge of Sirius' plate.
It wasn't the first time that this had happened; Sirius had explained with a sneer that Regulus had been forbidden from conversing with him, probably from fear of being 'infected with Muggle sympathy.' This didn't do much to stop them from communicating. If anything, it helped spawn their creativity in how to go about doing so in secret. Lately the preferred method seemed to be through Remus, under the pretense of Prefect business.
“I just don't get it,” the girl was saying. James was a little embarrassed that their companion's name was lost to him. “He just looks like we're so putrid.” It wasn't hard to guess what she was talking about. “He's just so...”
“Cold?” James supplied.
“Pompous?” was Sirius' input.
“...Dainty...” Everyone turned to look at Remus, who looked slightly embarrassed. “What? He is.”
Sirius was shaking his head, looking torn between being bewildered and amused. “I have never heard him described like that before.”
“Well...he's all...small and...y'know...everything he does is just so light,” Remus tried to explain. “Even the way he walks. And he's got those pretty little hands...”
“...Pretty little hands?”
“They're all soft and white and manicured-looking. Just because I think a boy has nice hands does not make me gay,” Remus snapped.
James eyebrows shot up. He felt like laughing. Sirius already was laughing, although at something completely different. Sirius leaned forward to whisper, and James leaned forward too. Somehow everyone else managed to get blocked out.
“I'll tell you a secret,” he said. “They are manicured.”
“Like you have room to talk,” Remus whispered back. “I know to what lengths you go to get your hair all pretty and shiny like that.”
Sirius smiled sheepishly and ran his hand through his hair. James wanted to slap him; it was known infamously as Black hair-that was, all of the Blacks had thick, beautiful hair that always did exactly what they wanted it to do, no matter what. Sirius' was always in perfectly-planned disarray. Regulus', on the other hand, somehow managed to stay neatly parted and untangled even after a Quidditch match. James desparately wanted to know how they did it, but Sirius just fluffed it when it was mentioned, Remus would laugh, and Peter would shrug and say that some people had everything.
Remus stood and announced that he was headed to class. James managed to shove a last piece of toast into his mouth and run after him. He knew that they had at least a few minutes before the others followed.
“You just lied to them, you know,” he said. “Saying that you aren't gay and all.”
“I never said that I wasn't gay,” Remus said, getting a little smug smile, which usually told of a prank well-done. “I just said that thinking a boy has nice hands doesn't make me gay. Don't tell me you haven't admired another bloke's looks, because I know you have. Anyway, as good-looking as Regulus Black is, he's not my type.”
“...Guys are typed?”
Remus came to a halt. “You are the most sadly oblivious person I have ever met. Why do you think that girls like some guys better than others?”
“That's not what I meant,” James said, starting them walking again. “What I meant was that I didn't realize that you did. I'd think that you didn't have much to choose from and all.”
“I can be however picky I want. And Regulus is too pretty for me. Anyway, I'm not stupid.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean that even if I was attracted to him, it wouldn't ever happen. For one, he's not gay--”
“That you know of.”
“He's not gay. Two, I've got Muggle blood, which means I'll always be 'dirty' in his eyes. And three, there's just something bizarre about the thought of being attracted to your best friend's sibling.”
“Alright,” James said, moving to walk backwards in front of Remus. “So you've said what isn't your type, so what is?”
Remus smiled. “Wouldn't you like to know.”
“Come on, the rest of us have shared, it's your turn.”
“I like my guys tall, with more muscle, and rather less proper,” Remus said. “I've got too much of that well-behaved attitude as it is, I don't need more.”
“Ironic, seeing how you aren't that well behaved,” James said. “So basically a guy like Sirius.”
Remus stopped suddenly. “Never say that again.”
James looked at him curiously. “Why? Too weird again? Or are you just not attracted to him.”
“No, that's not it. Nevermind, just don't think about it.” Remus walked quickly past him, looking upset.
~*~
Remus was downstairs in the common room attempting to explain something to Peter on the homework. Sirius had gone off, saying quietly that he had to talk to his brother. James was glad, not just because, as Sirius sometimes joked, there was hope for the boy yet. It gave him time to think.
He felt like banging his head into a wall. He knew that he got himself into a bad situation. It was unavoidable, being the very best friend of one and having forced the other to confess. So now he was under oath to never reveal the truth about Remus' sexuality, and was held by the bond of almost-brotherhood to keep Sirius' love for another bloke a secret.
He was now considering the idea of nudging each toward the other. It was a delicate procedure; if it went wrong he could end up with one or both angry at him, or he could get the urge to vomit from the mental images brought up. The latter was more of a danger with Sirius, and although he loved his friends, he didn't want to think of either like that.
Of course, James had other incentives as well; he was now positive that Remus was attracted to Sirius. He was tired of watching the two of them mooning over each other when they thought that the other wasn't looking. Remus sighed miserably if Sirius ever had a date with a girl, and Sirius would glare so hard at any girl that approached Remus that she practically ran away in fear.
What might be required, he decided was a strategem. Or simply a well-planned conversation. He found the latter to be a much more preferable idea.
~*~
“I think you should go for it.”
Sirius sat back on his heels and looked at his best friend suspiciously. “Go for what?”
“Tell Remus how you feel.” James straightened up, wiping his forhead.
Sirius laughed. “Potter, you are off your rocker.”
“You two are in here for detention.” They looked around to where Madam Pomfrey stood, hands on hips. “And you are lucky that I am allowing you two scrub my floors together.”
They bent back down and were silent for a time. James felt a little bad. It had been a week since he talked to Remus, and it was surprisingly hard to get Sirius alone. He had intentionally gotten them detention, and even wheedled Madam Pomfrey into putting them together, in hopes of talking to his best friend in relative privacy.
“I mean it,” James whispered, leaning his head close to Sirius'. “You're his type.”
“I didn't know Moony had a type of bloke.”
James nearly choked at his slip-up. Tricky business indeed, not giving anything away.
“Well, if he had a type,” he amended. “I mean, think about it. There's that Irish bloke that he was friends with for a while, although he turned out to be a bit of a psycho. And he chose you over him. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?”
“Oh, I don't know. He could think that I'm a freak of nature and hate me for the rest of his life.”
“Padfoot, he already knows you're a freak of nature. And anyway, he wouldn't hate you for feeling something you can't help. He's a werewolf, for God's sake.”
“He only feels stuff against his will one night of the month,” Sirius said. “I feel it every day, and suffer dirty sheets from it every morning.”
James shuddered. “Too much information, mate.”
“What makes you think that it'd be worth it anyway?”
James paused. “Well, he doesn't date.”
“He's a werewolf, for God's sake,” Sirius echoed. “He has this thing about people hating him, afraid of losing people's love, all that.”
“Well, there you go. He won't hate you for the rest of his life because he wants your love.”
“Oh, come on. He's been nice to people he hates with a passion because he doesn't want them to be mean to him.”
“Are you being the devil's advocate?” James snapped.
“The what?” Sirius looked confused.
“...I heard Remus say that to someone once. Told me that it's someone who argues for the sake of arguing.”
“No, I am not,” Sirius said.
He was quiet after that, though, and James was satisfied to see Sirius scrubbing with a vengence. He had gotten to him. Hopefully he could just let everything brew, and not have to get involved any further.
Notes: I call this "completing the circle." It's the last chunk of a series of one-shots I did, starting with Advice. I had two versions sitting around on my computer, and I chopped them up to take the bits I liked.
The entire list of stories can be found HERE
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