HP // Untitled // SiriusxRemus // Dec 2004
If you asked anyone, anyone who knew, mind you, they would tell you that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were so in love and had the perfect relationship.
If you asked Remus Lupin, he would smile and nod, dipping his head in quiet acknowledgement. That is, unless you really wanted to know. Then, the light would disappear from his warm brown eyes, leaving them empty and very slightly sad. He would look off into the distance and tell you, in a steady voice with a trace of resignation, that he loved Sirius Black with all his heart, and knew that Sirius loved him too.
If you asked him why he had tears in his expression, but none in his eyes, when he lied, he would return his gaze to you and give you a sad, sad smile. Then, he would say that he is not lying. He is telling the perfect truth...but.
But? you ask.
But Sirius does not love me the way I love him, he would reply, avoiding your eyes as he speaks. Sirius is different from me. He is beautiful and brilliant and wonderful and so sexy and he has the entire female (and probably a good part of the male) population of the school worshipping the ground he walks on. And...I’m just Remus, he would finish anticlimactically. He would then return to his Transfiguration assignment, chewing slightly on the end of his quill to signify the end of the conversation.
But he does love you, you press on.
Remus would sigh very slightly, hunching his shoulders and sinking a little further into his chair.
Yes, he does, he would say, finally. I’m sure he does because he tells me every night. But only every night. During the day he would be flirting with the girls. It’s a good cover, he would tell me at when the moon rises. What we do during the night is not always tolerated by both Muggles and Wizards, you know.
You nod, trying not to seem too eager for him to continue.
I’m asking him to break the law, not that laws have ever deterred Sirius Black, but.... Remus would squeeze his eyes shut and hold his head between his hands. But I’m asking him, Sirius Black! to be a great flaming poof. For me. Just for me. And it’s always amazed me that he’s done it. That he hasn’t woken up one day and gone, What the fuck am I doing? and shut me out of his life. Because what can I offer him? I’m not enchanting and I don’t have long, luscious hair and I don’t have a soft supple body or whatever the hell else blokes look for in a girl nowadays.
You wonder where the problem in their relationship comes up because Sirius is obviously sacrificing a lot, but keep silent. It isn’t polite to interrupt people when they’re talking, after all.
Remus would sigh again, shifting position.
I wonder sometimes, though, if he’s really committed to this whole being a poof thing. I understand that we need a cover...all hell would break loose if the females in this damn school found out Sirius was out of their reach. But it does kind of make you wonder (here Remus would smile wryly, as if trying to hide his hurt) when Sirius kisses Emily Birchwood full on the lips right in the Great Hall. Does he really have to go that far? Of course, with Sirius, it’s always all or nothing, he would quickly add, but.... But it kind of hurts when he treats you like Peter fourteen out of the twenty-four hours in a day.
You start to ask what’s wrong with being treated like Peter, but stop halfway as a light bulb clicks in your head.
And I can’t leave him or confront him because...well you wouldn’t know what it’s like to not have a single friend in the world. Because if Sirius hates me then James would hate me too, and then Peter would follow because Peter does everything James does and then I’ll be alone again and I really don’t want to be alone. And I really appreciate what Sirius is doing for me, even if it isn’t just for me, you know how much I love him, and I don’t want him not to think I appreciate it because that would be just horrible and....
Remus is babbling, you muse. Remus, who is usually reserved and cautious about using his voice, is babbling.
And sometimes I just wish....
Remus would trail off. You, being the considerate person you are, realize that this is a good time to take your leave, and wish him a good night and sweet dreams and you hope he feels better soon. Then, you tiptoe back to your own dormitory, sneaking a backward glance at Remus dragging his sleeve across his eyes.
You wouldn’t see the Fat Lady’s portrait swing open to admit THE Sirius Black, flaming poof extraordinaire, back from his bi-weekly fling with Emily Birchwood in the Prefects’ bathroom. You wouldn’t hear him turn his sultry voice on Remus, asking him why his cheeks are so flushed, and kissing him full on the lips, and whispering stale I love yous into his ears. And you wouldn’t see Remus, with a brave smile tugging up the corners of his mouth, answering that he’s been sitting a bit too close to the fire, returning the kiss with all his heart, and responding I love you, too.
If you asked Remus Lupin, he would smile and nod, dipping his head in quiet acknowledgement. That is, unless you really wanted to know. Then, the light would disappear from his warm brown eyes, leaving them empty and very slightly sad. He would look off into the distance and tell you, in a steady voice with a trace of resignation, that he loved Sirius Black with all his heart, and knew that Sirius loved him too.
If you asked him why he had tears in his expression, but none in his eyes, when he lied, he would return his gaze to you and give you a sad, sad smile. Then, he would say that he is not lying. He is telling the perfect truth...but.
But? you ask.
But Sirius does not love me the way I love him, he would reply, avoiding your eyes as he speaks. Sirius is different from me. He is beautiful and brilliant and wonderful and so sexy and he has the entire female (and probably a good part of the male) population of the school worshipping the ground he walks on. And...I’m just Remus, he would finish anticlimactically. He would then return to his Transfiguration assignment, chewing slightly on the end of his quill to signify the end of the conversation.
But he does love you, you press on.
Remus would sigh very slightly, hunching his shoulders and sinking a little further into his chair.
Yes, he does, he would say, finally. I’m sure he does because he tells me every night. But only every night. During the day he would be flirting with the girls. It’s a good cover, he would tell me at when the moon rises. What we do during the night is not always tolerated by both Muggles and Wizards, you know.
You nod, trying not to seem too eager for him to continue.
I’m asking him to break the law, not that laws have ever deterred Sirius Black, but.... Remus would squeeze his eyes shut and hold his head between his hands. But I’m asking him, Sirius Black! to be a great flaming poof. For me. Just for me. And it’s always amazed me that he’s done it. That he hasn’t woken up one day and gone, What the fuck am I doing? and shut me out of his life. Because what can I offer him? I’m not enchanting and I don’t have long, luscious hair and I don’t have a soft supple body or whatever the hell else blokes look for in a girl nowadays.
You wonder where the problem in their relationship comes up because Sirius is obviously sacrificing a lot, but keep silent. It isn’t polite to interrupt people when they’re talking, after all.
Remus would sigh again, shifting position.
I wonder sometimes, though, if he’s really committed to this whole being a poof thing. I understand that we need a cover...all hell would break loose if the females in this damn school found out Sirius was out of their reach. But it does kind of make you wonder (here Remus would smile wryly, as if trying to hide his hurt) when Sirius kisses Emily Birchwood full on the lips right in the Great Hall. Does he really have to go that far? Of course, with Sirius, it’s always all or nothing, he would quickly add, but.... But it kind of hurts when he treats you like Peter fourteen out of the twenty-four hours in a day.
You start to ask what’s wrong with being treated like Peter, but stop halfway as a light bulb clicks in your head.
And I can’t leave him or confront him because...well you wouldn’t know what it’s like to not have a single friend in the world. Because if Sirius hates me then James would hate me too, and then Peter would follow because Peter does everything James does and then I’ll be alone again and I really don’t want to be alone. And I really appreciate what Sirius is doing for me, even if it isn’t just for me, you know how much I love him, and I don’t want him not to think I appreciate it because that would be just horrible and....
Remus is babbling, you muse. Remus, who is usually reserved and cautious about using his voice, is babbling.
And sometimes I just wish....
Remus would trail off. You, being the considerate person you are, realize that this is a good time to take your leave, and wish him a good night and sweet dreams and you hope he feels better soon. Then, you tiptoe back to your own dormitory, sneaking a backward glance at Remus dragging his sleeve across his eyes.
You wouldn’t see the Fat Lady’s portrait swing open to admit THE Sirius Black, flaming poof extraordinaire, back from his bi-weekly fling with Emily Birchwood in the Prefects’ bathroom. You wouldn’t hear him turn his sultry voice on Remus, asking him why his cheeks are so flushed, and kissing him full on the lips, and whispering stale I love yous into his ears. And you wouldn’t see Remus, with a brave smile tugging up the corners of his mouth, answering that he’s been sitting a bit too close to the fire, returning the kiss with all his heart, and responding I love you, too.