A Year of Full Moons
Title: A Year of Full Moons
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Rating: R
Content/Warnings: s/D
Notes: With apologies to the British, the school year timeline is accidentally off by one month. For shanalle, kaydeefalls, and everyone else who has made me love this pairing. Edited by the incomparable impasto.
August
Remus is growing up. They’re all growing up, but Remus is growing differently, growing strange instead of merely older. James refuses to grow up, clinging to the shelter of being a teenager with no responsibilities, and Peter tries and tries to be an adult and live up to what is expected of him. Sirius can’t tell if he’s growing up, exactly, but he feels more mature, more confident. Remus…
Remus looks the same on the outside, although his body is growing, stretching and pulling limbs towards hands and feet that have always been too big. But looking into his eyes, sometimes it seems as though he’s aged ten years instead of one since last year, as if he’s already an old man and too tired to be a boy anymore.
Sirius doesn’t like it. He asks Dumbledore about it, pressing him with questions about why Remus acts so strange and what’s going on. He spends most of his career advisory meeting asking his Head of House what Remus will do when he graduates in two years, whether there’s anywhere for him to go. She deflects his questions and wants to talk about what he’ll do with his future, but he almost doesn’t care. He’s sixteen, graduating is a long way off. And he could do anything.
It’s the full moon; the question always seems to press more heavily on him then. He wonders if it weighs more heavily on Remus then, too, or if the weight is already as much as he can take and the full moon is no different because he’s a werewolf all the time, not just once every month.
Transfiguration is easier now, after so many months of practice, and most of the time they transform as a group, stick together and work as a pack - Remus’ pack - to keep the wolf safe and contained. Sirius has homework tonight, assigned at the last minute by the odious Slytherin-loving Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and it tears at him that he can’t go.
Remus tells him not to worry about it, that he understands, giving Sirius a long look out of those too-old eyes, and Sirius balls his hands into fists and wants to scream at their stupid professor for assigning him an extra essay tonight of all nights, and at himself for behaving badly enough to provoke it. He knows by now to tread carefully on full moon days. They’ve all had to miss a few, in turns, but he hates when it’s him. It feels like he’s disappointing Remus by not being there.
He can’t concentrate on the essay after they leave, sitting in the common room with twelve inches of blank parchment staring back at him, his shoulder still ghost-warm from James clasping it as they all left together. He keeps catching himself staring out the window at the moon, not visible much tonight as it disappears behind heavy clouds, emerging every few minutes to throw light across the rug and distract him again from what he’s supposed to be doing.
He wants to be with them. He wants to be with Remus.
September
It’s warm this month, for autumn. Sirius had been afraid he’d missed the best weather, the chance to feel the long grass under his belly as he ran, the playful mock-water fights they like to have at the edge of the lake. But it’s warm out, and Sirius strips off his shirt with a whoop, barely out of his clothes before he transforms, and Remus pets his furry head and laughs.
The change for Remus is always the worst, as if his body is fighting what’s happening to it; or maybe his mind is, resisting and giving in at the last instant to fear and panic. Sirius sometimes thinks it might be like dying, like knowing you were going to die and being resigned to it, but at the last moment still unable to help yourself from fighting to survive.
Sirius waits respectfully outside the door for Remus to change, and when the wolf finally slinks out to meet him, he barks, impatient to be outside and free. The wolf pauses, sniffing with narrowed eyes, and then agrees with a dry cough.
They run. Sirius almost forgets it’s a duty when it’s like this, the two of them under the moonlight, free and powerful, boiling over with the impossible immortality of youth, the belief that nothing, nothing can ever truly hurt them, and they will never die. They will live forever, running free.
He’s exhausted by the time the wolf breaks off, instinct drawing it back to the shack before the sun rises, with Sirius trotting obediently behind, panting from the exertion.
The change back is always smoother for Remus, a return to his own familiar form that happens so swiftly Sirius can sometimes blink and miss it. Sirius waits, as he always does, for humanity and recognition to return to Remus’ eyes, before he’ll risk the change back. He sees it, the flicker of pain as Remus unfurls into his own shape, naked and swaying with weariness, and then Remus is crumpling to the floor, curling around himself, and Sirius changes back with a haste that makes him stumble to get his arms around Remus on the dirty floor.
He’s never heard Remus sob like this, his body shaking, wracked, tears hidden behind grimy hands that he keeps over his face, as if to hide his pain from the world. From Sirius. Sirius just holds him, awkward but determined, and rocks him a little when the sobs become hysterical, rising into a crescendo of silent screams.
He doesn’t know what it’s about, but he can guess. Pressures of growing up, confusion about his place in the world, worry about what will become of him in a society that both hates and fears creatures labeled Dark. Sirius is going through the same thing himself, trying to balance the equations of a job and money against a family that has disowned and blacklisted him, wondering where he’ll go and what sort of man he’ll become. It’s terrifying, and he can only imagine how much worse it must be for Remus.
After a while Remus quiets, sobs gradually trickling off until he’s lying spent and exhausted in Sirius’ arms, taking deep, even breaths. Sirius rubs his back a little, not saying anything, and eventually Remus raises his face from his hands, eyes rimmed red and swollen, and wipes away the remaining tears with the back of one hand.
“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispers, and Sirius holds him a fraction tighter and says roughly, “I promise.”
October
They all go out together the next time, Sirius barking laughs at Peter scrabbling to keep up and James getting his antlers caught in the branches of a tree. He thinks Remus might be relieved to have them all here, maybe because three of them are a better distraction; maybe because Remus is afraid to fall apart again, and he can’t do it with all of them watching.
Peter the rat laughs a little bit too hard at James the stag, which leads to a game of James trying to impale Peter with the tips of his antlers while Peter squeals and tries to run. The wolf remains indifferent, keeping aloof from the rest of them and sniffing the ground, occasionally moving away and forcing Sirius to stay with him, watchful.
He never makes the mistake of thinking that the wolf is Remus. The rest of them change but stay the same, their consciousness unaltered by the shift in physical form. Remus’ shift is deeper, not just his body but his mind as well, his very soul. The wolf is a killer, a hunter, an animal. Remus is none of these, and Sirius will never, ever make the mistake of thinking they are one. Remus is not the wolf, and it is the wolf they are safeguarding now, so Sirius is cautious.
The wolf turns his head, and after a moment begins loping back towards the shack. Sirius barks to get James’ and Peter’s attention, but they are too involved in their game, oblivious to Sirius’ impatient growls.
The wolf is almost out of sight; Sirius can’t wait longer. He shudders to think of what they would do if they let the wolf out of their sight and something happened, if someone was hurt. Remus would never forgive them. He’d never forgive himself, and that’s what prods Sirius to trot faster, eventually bounding through the cool air until he reaches the wolf’s side. The wolf snaps at him but doesn’t really object, and soon enough they’re back in the shack, the wolf circling the floorboards and waiting for the dawn.
Sirius lays across the doorway, panting a little, and when the wolf snaps at him again, irritable, he jumps up and dances out of the way. The wolf snaps again and this time Sirius snaps back, unafraid but knowing better than to back down. They’ve played this game before, and the dog in Sirius knows not to show fear. The wolf may want to lead the pack, but Sirius will not cede control.
They tussle a little, mostly just feints and the occasional clash-and-shove when one of them jumps up onto their hind legs. Sirius is getting into the game when sunlight finally breaks through the window and the wolf shudders, splinter-quick shifting back into human form while Sirius’ paws are still against his side.
He knows better than to shift back fast, but he isn’t thinking, more concerned with what his claws might do to bare human skin, because he wasn’t being all that gentle with the wolf. With Remus it’s a different matter, but he knows better, he knows to wait, and then he’s shifted back and it doesn’t matter because Remus growls and there are teeth sinking into the back of Sirius’ neck.
Sirius stills, and waits. If he doesn’t move, Remus will eventually come back to himself, and he’ll let go. He won’t break the skin. Sirius doesn’t know what will happen if he does now, in human form but so soon changed. He doesn’t particularly want to find out. Remus’ saliva is wet against his neck, breath hot, and both of them are completely motionless, the only sound a continuous low growl from Remus’ throat.
It’s a dominance display. Sirius changes into a dog regularly, he understands the signals, the body language. The wolf was fighting Sirius for leadership of the pack, and the wolf isn’t quite gone yet. Remus’ teeth dig in a little harder, and Sirius gasps, trying desperately to force his tense muscles to relax into a proper display of submission. It’s hard, with Remus’ growl in his ears and sharp teeth clamped down tight onto his neck. But he manages, going limp and allowing the wolf the victory, and then Remus seems to abruptly realize what’s happening, and lets him go.
Sirius waits for a full ten seconds before slowly unbending to sit up, although he’s almost certain the danger has passed now. Remus looks sickened, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, and Sirius sees the gleam of saliva, can still feel it on the back of his neck where Remus sank his teeth in.
Remus opens his mouth - to apologize, probably - and Sirius does the same to forestall him when James and Peter burst in. They transform as soon as they see Remus and Sirius in human form, babbling apologies over top of each other for leaving them alone.
Sirius says nothing, and watches Remus. Remus won’t meet his eyes, and just looks away.
November
He’s been careful, knowing the full moon was coming, but not careful enough. Remus has been weird since last month, even weirder than the way he’s been the rest of the year, and every time Sirius had tried to get him to open up he’d found himself firmly shut out. Irritation had made him reckless, not to mention snappish, and he’d found himself in detention on the night of the full moon only seconds after the hex had found its mark and given Snape green-and-purple boils all over his oily face.
“I’ll meet you there after,” he’d pledged, but Remus had only looked at him and said not to worry about it, James and Peter would be there, they’d look after him. Sirius doesn’t want James and Peter to look after Remus, he wants to do it himself, and he and Remus both know that he does it best. He’d pushed, but Remus had pushed back, and that was when Sirius had realized that Remus actually didn’t want him there.
The knowledge hadn’t done much to improve his mood, and he storms off to detention after a good five minutes of accusatory ranting with Remus’ damning silence still echoing in his ears. Snape sneers at him in the hallway and Sirius hexes him again because there are no witnesses, and it doesn’t matter if he gets another detention because the important one is tonight.
He doesn’t understand. He’s pissed off and he knows something is up with Remus, but he doesn’t know what, and neither does James. He hasn’t bothered to ask Peter; Peter’s a good enough friend, but oblivious for the most part to what’s going on with his mates unless it’s so obvious that they all notice, like just now when Sirius shouted the tower down because he was so angry at Remus.
He stabs his quill savagely into the inkpot and begins writing his assigned essay on the unjustness of hexing fellow students, and gradually the anger drains out of him, replaced almost immediately by guilt. There’s always a risk, although they never acknowledge it, that something could go wrong. The wolf could get away from them; an adult wizard could see and misunderstand the situation; someone could be in the wrong place at the wrong time and end up being bitten.
They never fight on the night of the full moon, because all of them are aware of these things, and yet Sirius had just blown up in spectacular fashion and now he doesn’t have the chance to apologize for it. More guilt trickles in, increasing by the moment, and he’s almost counting the minutes until his detention is over and he can go and find them.
He can’t concentrate for worrying, and it’s late by the time he hands over his haphazardly written essay - although it probably sounded heartfelt near the end, because his apologies hadn’t been for Snape, but for Remus - and escapes towards the secret passage leading to the shack. They won’t be there, of course, but once he transforms he can track them easily enough.
He stops when he remembers what they were fighting about in the first place, and how poor an apology it would be to show up tonight in opposition to Remus’ wishes. It hurts Sirius to do it, but he finally slows to a halt and turns around, trudging back to the tower and hurling himself onto his bed, watching the window and waiting for daybreak.
They finally sneak in, about twenty minutes after the sun finally shows itself on the horizon, and Sirius sits bolt upright to hiss, “Moony?”
“We’re here,” James’ voice says, and the invisibility cloak whisks off to show the three of them, huddled together and weary from their night out. Sirius just stares until Remus finally meets his eyes and smiles tiredly, and Sirius knows he’s been forgiven. He smiles back, tentative but sincere, and Remus nods before falling into his own bed to sleep for a few precious hours before their morning classes.
Sirius thinks he may be still smiling when he follows Remus into sleep.
December
“I have to go,” Sirius insists for the eighth time, and this time James comes to his aid, perhaps hearing the desperation in his voice and knowing that time is running short. With James backing him up and making excuses to his relatives, Sirius can finally escape the Potter family brunch and make it out the door.
“Travel safe,” James whispers, and pushes his invisibility cloak into Sirius’ arms. He’s on his broom and in the air within minutes, the compass on the handle charmed to aim straight for Hogwarts.
It’s a long ride; he’s never traveled long-distance by broomstick before, and he hadn’t known when he set out exactly how long it would take. He’s weary after only a couple of hours, but watching the sun sink lower in the sky spurs him on, heart racing as he tries to figure out whether he’s miscalculated, or if he’ll make it there in time.
Hogwarts finally appears on the horizon when the sun has lowered itself to touch the hillside, bright colours seeping and bleeding into the landscape beneath. Sirius manages a final burst of speed, now that the goal is in sight, and heads straight for the shack, knowing that he doesn’t have time now to make it to the tower, and that Remus will already be preparing in their secret place.
He hits the ground running, and his legs wobble unexpectedly, almost pitching him to the ground after so long a ride. He catches himself with a hand in the dirt and stumbles into the shack, falling against the doorframe and panting when he sees with relief that Remus is still human.
Remus’ eyes are wary and frightened, but only for a minute, before he sees who has barged their way in, and then he smiles and relaxes, fists uncurling at his sides. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he confesses quietly, and Sirius’ heart lurches a little, but he gives Remus a bright, careless smile.
“Of course I came,” he answers, and one of Remus’ hands twitches out as if to touch him, but it drops to his side as he keeps smiling, and then the first shadows are cast across the floorboards, their final warning of sunset, and they are distracted by preparations, stripping and taking their places, Sirius transforming and waiting patiently for Remus.
They run in the snow that night, plowing through drifts and sneezing when the wet fluff gets up their noses. Sirius runs circles around the wolf, barking loud enough to wake the students, and they scrabble at each other playfully, kicking up snow and rolling around in it until their fur is soaked.
Remus is shivering when he transforms back, and Sirius knows why when he changes back and the cold hits his bare skin, his hair wet through and every part of him close to freezing. They scramble into their clothes and get back to the tower as fast as they can, stripping again as soon as they make it inside in order to towel off and put on warmer pajamas.
Sirius pours two cups of water and does his best to conjure hot chocolate; neither of them are up for a trip down to the kitchens when it’s nearly full morning and the flagstones are so cold against their feet. He grimaces when he tastes what he’s created, and Remus laughs but drinks all of his, as if to prove that it isn’t really as terrible as Sirius knows it is.
They’re curled up together on Remus’ bed, because it’s warm beneath the blankets and Sirius doesn’t feel like giving up Remus’ body heat. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, even when his eyelids droop and his head nods onto Sirius’ shoulder.
“I’m glad you came,” he murmurs, and Sirius answers softly, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
January
Something’s changed. Sirius doesn’t know exactly what, but he finds himself smiling now, all the time, and most of the time he’s smiling at Remus. Remus smiles back, and they sneak glances and nudge each other with their elbows and giggle, and James and Peter roll their eyes but don’t really seem to mind. Remus still hides behind his books sometimes, but now Sirius thinks it’s because he’s blushing, and that thought just makes Sirius grin harder.
Their professors seem surprised, but overall they appear to be of the opinion that whatever it is, it’s having a positive effect on Sirius, and anything that keeps him out of trouble is fine with them.
The truth is, he’s too happy to focus on causing trouble, too giddy nearly all of the time. Remus teases him about having stars in his eyes, but Sirius only laughs, and they spend another day with their heads bent together, whispering private jokes and giggling at nothing at all. It feels a lot like being in love.
Sirius imagines himself in Hogsmeade holding Remus’ hand, and he grins when he looks at Remus, and Remus grins back even though he doesn’t know what’s so funny. James rolls his eyes at them for the umpteenth time that morning, calls them gits in a mostly-affectionate manner, and takes himself off in search of lunch.
Sirius floats on air all day even though it’s the full moon tonight, and even Remus doesn’t seem to mind as much as he usually does, not pensive so much as distracted, and that’s easily remedied by Sirius cracking a joke or whispering an amusing comment about one of their fellow students.
Sirius’ good mood continues into his transformation, and he barks at Peter and chases him around while they’re still waiting for Remus to shift, while James looks on, trying to keep his head low and his antlers from catching on anything. When the wolf finally pokes its head out of the door, Sirius switches targets and barks at it, startling it briefly before it lopes out to join them.
Even the full moon watch is different tonight. Sirius catches himself being…playful, with the wolf, almost teasing, and he knows James and Peter are watching him for the lead, uncertain about this new dynamic. Sirius knows that the wolf isn’t Remus, that Remus isn’t the wolf, but he can’t help himself. He chases the wolf and nips its heels, and when the wolf pounces on him and growls he only squirms and yips until he’s free again and can do it all over.
He knows he’s gone too far when the wolf growls a warning and he doesn’t heed, his dog-self still bent on playing and busy snapping at the wolf’s tail. The wolf turns and bites him; not seriously, not enough to bleed, but Sirius still dances back in shock and then the wolf springs at him, slamming him back into a tree trunk before growling and snapping again, backing off.
James stays with him, worried, while Peter follows the wolf. James’ head is bowed in concern, hooves pawing the dirt, but after a few minutes of licking the wounds Sirius shakes it off and woofs reassurance.
He keeps his distance for the rest of the night; not because he’s afraid or cowed in the least, but he knows enough to respect the wolf, and the wolf has been pushed too far tonight. James occupies it for the few remaining hours, letting the wolf stalk him and keeping it at bay with sharp antlers and strong legs, until once more the wolf senses dawn and wearies of the game, turning towards the shack.
Sirius springs into action then, nipping the wolf until it growls, and then he begins a race back to the shack, one in which the wolf matches him easily, but James and Peter cannot. They detour, circle, chase, and barely make it back before Remus is shifting again, straightening from four legs onto two.
Sirius waits his customary few moments for awareness to return to Remus’ eyes, and then he transforms as well, grinning like a maniac in spite of the ache all along his back and side. Remus’ eyes are dark with concern, undoubtedly remembering now what happened, and the crack of Sirius’ body hitting the tree.
“You’re bleeding,” he murmurs, gaze full of worry, and Sirius glances down at the scrapes and shrugs them off, buoyed up into giddiness by the proof of how much Remus cares.
“I don’t care,” he says honestly, and the euphoria gives him the courage to take two steps forward and take Remus’ startled face between his hands, to press their lips together firmly even when Remus automatically struggles against being held.
Shock stops the struggling, and then Remus kisses him back, tentatively but with genuine desire, heedless of the fact that both of them are still naked and the shack is winter-cold. Sirius tilts his head back and laughs, and Remus shakes his and kisses him again.
February
“We can’t go to Hogsmeade together this weekend,” Remus insists, trudging resolutely up the stairs to the tower and leaving Sirius to chase after him like a puppy. Sirius catches up at the top, and waits for Remus to speak the password and the portrait hole to open before he continues the argument.
“Why not? It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, I want to spend it with you,” Sirius says stubbornly, lowering his voice only a fraction out of respect for the sensitivity of the subject and the number of people hanging out in the common room avoiding the cold.
“That’s why.” Remus heads up the flight of stairs leading to their dormitory, and Sirius crosses his arms over his chest and follows behind, jaw set and completely unwilling to lose this fight. Remus sighs and sets his books down on the nightstand, turning to face Sirius with a weary expression. “We have to go with girls, or at least you do, or people will start to suspect.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius scoffs. “We go places together all the time, we always have. No one will think anything of it. It’s a holiday for couples, and I want to spend it with you.” He’s aware that he may be pushing Remus too far this particular time, and he doesn’t really want to fight, not today with a full moon looming, but he thinks that sneaking around pretending to date girls is stupid, when they’ve been in plain view for a month now and no one has noticed anything.
“We said we weren’t ready to come out to everyone,” Remus points out wearily, crossing his arms in a less defiant echo of Sirius’ posture and leaning back against the bedpost. “If we go to Hogsmeade for Valentine’s Day and spend it together, that’s exactly what we’ll be doing.” His eyes glance over the jut of Sirius’ jaw, and his tone turns soothing. “You should take Eleanor, she’d be thrilled to go with you, and she wouldn’t be heartbroken if it was only for one day.”
“I don’t care about bloody Eleanor!” Sirius explodes, taking two steps forward to get his arms around Remus, or at least his hands on Remus, touching the sleeves of his dress robes but keeping enough distance between them so that if James or Peter bursts in, they won’t see anything out of the ordinary. He grinds his teeth at the recognition that he’s only proving Remus’ point, even now being cautious. If they went to Hogsmeade together, more people than James and Peter would suspect. And with good reason.
“It’s just one day,” Remus murmurs, his voice dry as always but still soothing, like a balm for Sirius’ wounded heart. His hand rises to brush over Sirius’ cheek, gentle and knowing. Sirius damns discovery to hell for long enough to steal a kiss; one that Remus allows, and returns wholeheartedly for the brief couple of seconds that it lasts.
“It’s a day without you,” Sirius replies, but he’s really already given in. Remus is right. Remus is always right. It would be annoying, if Remus didn’t always find a way to ease the sting of defeat. Remus’ hand strokes his hair, still gentle, and Sirius sighs. “We could always stay here,” he suggests, shifting forward so that their bodies brush, bump softly. “Skip Hogsmeade altogether and celebrate in private.”
Remus’ intake of breath tells Sirius that he knows exactly what Sirius means by that, and Sirius is tempted so strongly in that moment to cast locking charms on the door and take the risk right now, knowing that James is at Quidditch practice and Peter had said he’d be in the library all afternoon.
“Peter’s staying,” Remus whispers, but his voice is full of regret, and that’s enough to allow Sirius to let go and take a step back without being overwhelmed by the need to cling and claim. “He told me yesterday, he has homework.”
“And Dandelion turned him down when he asked her, to go with Zacharias Corner instead,” Sirius finishes with a sigh, tugging the sleeves of his robe down. “Dammit.” For a moment he’s so frustrated by it all that he almost insists they tell everyone, just throws it all to hell, drags Remus down to the common room and kisses him soundly in front of everyone so the cat is once and for all out of the bag.
But he can’t do that, for both of their sakes, so he just smiles wistfully and shrugs. “I’ll go with Eleanor,” he agrees. He holds Remus’ eyes, as serious as he ever gets. “But I’ll be coming back to you.”
Remus’ eyes are just as serious, although his eyes are smiling, and his hand whispers like a ghost across Sirius’ sleeve. “I know.”
March
They’ve reached the home stretch now, the last few months before final exams, and Remus retreats more often than not to the library, spending the days and evenings shut away with his books and his notes. Sirius coaxes him out when he can, as do James and Peter, but for the most part he stays away from them, working toward his perfect marks with the equally studious Ravenclaws.
What frustrates Sirius more than the studying, however, is the way Remus is acting lately. They’ve never done more than steal kisses and a few lingering touches when they can get away with it, but now Remus keeps him at arm’s length, shying away whenever Sirius reaches out to him.
Sirius has complained loudly and at great length to James, leaving out things like the fact that Remus won’t kiss him anymore and concentrating on illustrating what a wanker Remus is lately by avoiding them, but James shrugs it off and points out that Remus gets like that, Moody Moony, they should all be used to it by now. Sirius calls James a wanker and stalks off to brood, and then Peter finds him for an impromptu prank on the Slytherins and he feels a bit better. At least until the next time he catches Remus in an empty corridor, when he leans in and Remus turns his head away, whispering an excuse.
“He’s worried about what happens this summer, and after graduation next year,” Peter suggests over dinner, where Remus is somewhat conspicuously absent. “We all are.”
James claps him on the back and tells him to stop sulking. “He’ll come around,” James assures him, and then the conversation turns to Hufflepuff’s blonde bombshell Delilah Warbeck and her latest exploits among the male population at Hogwarts in all four Houses, which leads inevitably to discussion of James’ latest attempts to woo Lily Evans, and the matter is forgotten by everyone but Sirius, who glowers at the door to the Great Hall every time it opens and Remus doesn’t come through.
He can tell that Remus doesn’t want him there for this full moon, but Sirius stubbornly ignores all of Remus’ hinting to that effect, and James and Peter wisely choose to stay out of it. Thus it is that the four of them find themselves as usual in the shack, with Remus inside waiting to shift, James bored already and poking things with his antlers, Peter sniffing around with wide eyes, and Sirius growling at the door knowing that the cause of all of his frustration is on the other side turning into a wolf.
If dogs can be said to give the cold shoulder, Sirius does. He ignores the wolf, which in the end is only more frustrating for him, because the wolf is not Remus and ignores him right back without caring at all. James pokes Sirius with his antler at one point and Sirius growls at him, and the wolf turns his head and fixes them with a cold, distant look that reminds Sirius all-too-much of Remus. Sirius snarls and sets off into the Forbidden Forest, where he sniffs things and noses around and pisses on trees until it’s time to return to the shack for the sunrise.
After they transform back, Sirius crosses his arms and cuts Remus off from trying to leave. “Give us a minute,” he tells James and Peter. “We’ll meet you back in the room.” James shrugs, and Peter glances curiously between them before retreating after James, leaving the two of them alone in the shack at opposite ends of the room.
Remus looks hunted, and Sirius doesn’t give him a chance to go on the attack. “Why?” he asks bluntly, shifting to block the doorway with his body, effectively trapping Remus inside. “Why are you acting so strange? What’s going on with you lately?”
“Sirius,” Remus begins, but Sirius sets his jaw and refuses to move, and Remus eventually deflates with a sigh. He wraps his arms around himself, looking slightly lost, and Sirius melts a little in spite of his determination to be strong and not give in. “I’m afraid,” Remus confesses, and that seems to be Sirius’ cue to step forward, to meet Remus on less hostile terms.
“Afraid of what?” he asks, halting a few feet away from Remus, watching as he fusses with the threadbare sleeve of his newly donned robe. Remus looks up then, and his gaze is so intense that Sirius’ eyes widen involuntarily, surprised at how hot Remus’ eyes seem to burn.
“I want to hurt you sometimes,” Remus says quietly, and Sirius’ heart drops in his chest, plummeting into ice. “I think about hurting you. When we’re alone, when I’m with you and there’s no one else around. I think…” He takes a deep breath, and Sirius tries to do the same, but he feels like his heart has been frozen to ice, and it hurts to breathe. “I think it’s the wolf. I don’t think it’s ever safe around me, not really, and if we did something and I hurt you, Sirius…”
Sirius forces himself to walk forward and take Remus into his arms then, because the look on Remus’ face is one of total misery, and Sirius can’t stand to see him in pain, even when he feels like he’s just been stabbed in the chest. He never imagined Remus could want to hurt him. Not Remus, not ever. He doesn’t know how he feels now, but Remus’ arms wind around him readily enough, and his head rests against Sirius’ shoulder, his whole body trembling with weariness.
“I’m sorry,” Remus whispers. Sirius shakes his head and holds Remus tightly, and doesn’t let him go for a long time after.
April
It’s a few hours before the sun sets and Remus is edgy, Sirius knows, because he’s edgy himself. They’ve been careful with each other since Remus’ confession, not touching beyond a quick brush of fingers in passing, no kisses even when James and Peter aren’t in the room. Sirius doesn’t really believe, in his heart, that Remus would ever harm him. But Remus does, and that’s really all that matters.
Peter’s in detention and James has run up to get the invisibility cloak for the trip back while Sirius and Remus head down to the shack. Sirius doesn’t think about just how jumpy Remus must feel at being alone with him until he reaches out impulsively to grab Remus’ arm, wanting to show him a dazzling spider’s web, and Remus whirls around and slams Sirius into the wall so hard that the breath leaves his body in a rush.
He can’t help it. He’s aware that he’s treading dangerous ground, but Remus is still human, still sane, and Sirius’ reaction to being pinned against a wall is not entirely one of fear. Remus’ eyes are dark and hungry, and Sirius reacts almost without thinking, submitting to the wolf he sees lurking behind Remus’ eyes by tilting his head back and exposing his throat.
Remus snarls at him, but Sirius swallows and suddenly Remus is biting down, sinking his teeth in hard and it feels incredible, Sirius moans and his hips jump forward of their own volition, and Remus’ growl sends shocks of vibration all the way through his body. He moans again and squirms, trying to get more contact or more friction, something, and Remus pins his wrists to the wall and grinds against him so firmly that Sirius moans again and his cock leaps in his pants.
Remus bites him again, marking his throat, fingers digging into his wrists and undoubtedly leaving dark bruises to blossom in their wake. Sirius can’t bring himself to care, and he’s honestly turned on by the thought of it, imagining Remus’ fingerprints on his skin and his teeth leaving red marks on Sirius’ throat.
He struggles just enough that Remus has to slam him into the wall again to keep him still, and Sirius’ breath gusts out of him again as his head smacks into the wall and Remus pins him in place more firmly. He’s dazed, turned on beyond belief and confused about what’s going on, why he feels like every cell in his body is screaming affirmation.
Remus finally tears himself away from Sirius’ throat, leaving Sirius to slump bonelessly against the wall. “No,” Remus says hoarsely, backing away while Sirius blinks and tries to pull himself together on legs that feel like they’re made out of jelly. “Sirius, don’t.”
Don’t what? Sirius thinks, and he remembers somewhere in the back of his brain Remus’ voice saying I think about hurting you but he didn’t know it would be like this, and he didn’t know just how unfraid he really was of what might happen if Remus ever did.
“Remus,” Sirius says, but his brain still isn’t functioning properly, the blood diverted to other areas, and at that moment James puffs through the door into the shack and the chance for communication is lost.
James glances between them but obviously doesn’t see anything wrong, and tries to draw Sirius back through the door so that Remus can shift alone. “Don’t come out tonight,” Remus says suddenly, while Sirius’ body is still trying to remember how to resist James’ hands. “Sirius, don’t. I’ll maul you.”
James stops, surprised and worried, but Sirius shakes his head. “I trust you,” he answers. “Even when you’re the wolf.” Remus stares at him with eyes still dark and too knowing, and James pulls him out of the room where they strip silently, transform and wait.
Sirius shivers when the wolf pads out and looks at him, but the wolf only stares at him, cold and indifferent, and then lopes off down the hill into the moonlight. James pauses for a moment, waiting to make sure that Sirius is all right, and then they set off together after it. Sirius is skittish around the wolf, somehow unable to be assertive as he usually is, but for the most part the wolf ignores him, and whenever he starts to show interest, keen stare focused on Sirius and making him whimper, James is there between them, antlers lowered to keep the wolf at bay.
By the time they transform back, Sirius is exhausted and Remus looks equally weary, hollow-eyed and slumped against the wall. James ushers them back like an overprotective mother, and Sirius makes it all the way to the dormitory before he stops, unable to focus for long enough to crawl into bed and stop the shivering. Remus stops and watches him, eyes still dark but not the way they were, not fierce and hot, and when he holds out a hand Sirius follows him like a puppy, stumbling into Remus’ bed and curling up inside the warm circle of his arms.
“Sleep,” Remus whispers, and Sirius is unconscious almost before he finishes the word.
May
The demands of their bodies are staring to get out of their control, and there have been more close calls with James and Peter than Sirius cares to think about. He thinks James might suspect, and after the positions he’s caught them in, it would hardly be a shock if he knew. They keep swearing to be careful, but every time Remus looks at him with that cold fire in his eyes Sirius’ brain ceases to function, and whatever that does to his expression, Remus always responds to it instantly, tension rising to an unbearable level within the space of a few seconds.
If they’re alone, there’s never even the slightest hope of resisting. Remus has pinned him against the wall between their beds so often that there’s a dark smudge from Sirius’ sweaty palms, and Sirius’ hands have curled around the bedpost to hold himself upright so many times that he thinks the pattern of grooves must be permanently imprinted on his palms.
There’s never a chance to reach climax, only a few stolen moments of frantic thrusting against each other while Remus’ teeth leave marks and Sirius keens, and then they force themselves to break apart, panting, before someone walks in and discovers them. It gets harder every time, and some days Sirius knows Remus is thinking the same thing he is, that it would be worth the risk if they could just finish it, just once, just this time. They’ve gotten so close it made Sirius want to scream, and only Peter’s fumbling at the door had saved them that last time.
It’s the last full moon tonight before the holidays, and James has talked Sirius into staying with him for the summer. “You can’t stay with Remus’ folks,” he’d pointed out. “They’d take you in, but they don’t have the money, and you know it would be a burden on them. And can you imagine spending an entire summer alone with Peter? How boring would that be? Come stay with me.”
Sirius had hedged, talked it over with Remus while carefully avoiding the subject of the Lupins’ financial status, and finally agreed. So now he’s leaving in three days, and this is possibly the last time he’ll be with Remus during the full moon for the next three months.
They’re down by the lake now, hidden from prying eyes by tall water-weeds and a discreet concealment charm, while everyone else is inside packing and hastily finishing the final Transfiguration essay that Remus insisted Sirius write three days early. Sirius’ cloak is spread out beneath them, both of them drinking their fill of each other before they have to go away for the summer.
“We should cool off,” Remus had suggested, but it seems like a waste of something too precious for them to give up a single moment of it, even if it would make parting easier in the long run. Sirius grabs at every chance he has to be alone with Remus, and he knows that Remus is doing the same. The need to be together is stronger than the caution to stay apart.
It’s a hot day, the kind that wilts your motivation to do anything at all, and Sirius is content to simply lie on his cloak and touch Remus, allow Remus to touch him in return. They trade slow, lazy kisses, the usual heat of passion missing today, or perhaps just simmering beneath the surface while they drift and caress.
“Do you ever think we might be this way anyway?” Sirius asks idly, while Remus’ hands find their way beneath his shirt and his lips trail light kisses over Sirius’ collarbone. “If you weren’t a wolf? If it would be the same?”
Remus hums, pausing briefly, and then he takes Sirius’ hands and kisses the insides of his wrists, making Sirius’ breath flutter in his chest. “If I’d still want to tear you open, mark you as mine and delight in your suffering?” Remus asks dryly, and just the words make Sirius harden, even without the gust of soft breath over sensitive skin. “No, I don’t think so.”
Sirius considers that for a few moments, watching the clouds and relaxing into the soothing way Remus opens his mouth against the inside of Sirius’ wrist, sucking and gently gnawing. “I think I would be,” he says finally, and Remus bites down, making him shudder and go limp, head falling back against the cloak and soft grass.
Remus drags himself up to lie beside Sirius, propped up on one elbow and gazing at him seriously. “No one could want as much as I do,” he says softly, tracing the curve of Sirius’ cheek with a fingernail. “No one human. No one could want the things I want to do to you and not go mad.”
Sirius pulls him down until their mouths brush, tongues curling loosely around each other before parting. “I do,” he says, holding Remus’ gaze. “I want that much.”
Remus kisses him again, and Sirius pretends it’s not goodbye.
June
Sirius is trapped. Penned in, stifled, claustrophobic and going mad. It’s the full moon tonight, he knows without having to second-guess or check the lunar calendar on the wall, and he’s not with Remus. None of them are.
“We can’t,” James had said, sympathetic but unwavering. “What are we going to do, show up and tell his parents that we’re his illegal Animagi roommates, come to keep him company? There would be nowhere for us to take him even if we went, he’s in the middle of a bloody city.”
Sirius had turned away, pressed against the glass window in his borrowed guest bedroom. James had put a hand on his shoulder, understanding without words. Sirius is almost certain now that James knows, after watching Sirius mope around for weeks only to brighten every time the Lupins’ owl arrived with letters.
“He’ll manage,” James had promised, giving Sirius’ shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “He always did before. He’ll be okay.”
Sirius thought about how Remus had managed before, the explanations of accidents when he’d spent the day after every full moon in the hospital wing, covered in cuts and bruises and wearing a tired, false-comfort smile. He doesn’t want that to happen again, not even once or twice over the summer. They should have brought Remus here. They should have made an excuse, any excuse, and gotten him out of the city for one night. They…Sirius. Sirius should have taken care of him.
He sends one last letter before dinner, folded hastily and signed with a pawprint, which he hopes will reach Remus before he locks himself into the basement or wherever his parents keep him during full moons. Tell me when it’s over.
He doesn’t sleep that night. James comes in to check on him a few times, offering to play exploding snap or wizard’s chess, but Sirius can’t concentrate on the game and eventually tells James to get some sleep. He watches the moon through the window, listens to the sounds of Mr. and Mrs. Potter preparing for bed, and then to the silence outside and the soft chirping of crickets in the yard.
His palms are sweaty by the time dawn arrives, his back rigid and aching from having sat up at the window all night. The sun rises and no word comes, but he tells himself that it will take time, that Remus might even need to sleep first, that he won’t be able to send any word until his parents wake up and unlock his door. Then the owl will have to travel all this way, and if Remus forgets…
He jerks out of sleep when he hears an owl hoot, and the scrabbling of talons on a windowpane. It takes him a moment to wake up, disoriented and eyes gummy from lack of sleep, and then he stumbles downstairs to where the Potter family is having breakfast, and the postal owl is delivering the morning mail.
“Hey,” James greets him, looking up from buttering his toast at the sound of Sirius’ feet on the stairs. “You looked pretty worn out, so I thought I’d let you sleep through breakfast. Hope you don’t mind.”
Sirius murmurs something in response, watching as Mr. Potter sorts through the letters, frowns at one, and passes it on to his son. James glances at it, and his eyes flick up to Sirius. “Ah,” he says, holding out the envelope. “I think this one’s for you.”
Sirius tears open the envelope, ignoring the Potters’ curious looks and James’ knowing one. He swallows when he sees what’s been written, and sits down hard at the table. James passes him the juice without comment, and Sirius folds up the letter with trembling hands. It’s over. I miss you.
James leans over once his parents are distracted by something in the Daily Prophet and deep in conversation. “Is he okay?” James asks, and Sirius lets out a breath, nodding and clenching the envelope tightly in his hand.
“Yeah. He’s okay.”
July
Sirius can’t, he cannot, go through another full moon without Remus. He tells James to make excuses for him if his parents ask, climbs out the window and onto his broomstick, and rouses his owl, who fluffs her feathers at him and hoots balefully at the presumption. He gives her a treat and scratches her head until she’s mollified, and then whispers his directions. “Remus’ house.”
She looks at him blankly, and then holds up a delicate foot for his letter. He shakes his head and tries to explain to her in gestures. “Take me. I’m the package. Take me to Remus.”
She hoots, probably disapproving of the unusual delivery, but flaps her wings and takes off, leaving him to fly after her into the clouds. He has to stay higher than she does, out of Muggle sight, but James’ invisibility cloak is wrapped tightly around him and as much of the broomstick as he could manage, and he’s high up enough that anything else will be written off with a logical explanation.
He has to duck down once they get close, because he’s in danger of losing her in the city, but she seems very aware of where he is and how fast he can go, and she leads him to the window with no difficulty at all.
He hops off the broom, coos praises to her and sends her home with another treat between her jaws. Then he draws himself up, takes a deep breath, and knocks on the Lupins’ door.
Remus’ mother answers the door, and she looks understandably shocked to see him standing there. “Sirius,” she says, obviously recognizing him from the train station, and then her surprise turns to dismay. “I’m afraid you can’t stay tonight, we have…plans, but you’re welcome to join us for supper if you like.”
“I…I know,” he blurts out, trying to explain without giving away the game. “About Remus, I mean.” Mrs. Lupin pales, obviously about to turn him politely away, so he continues hastily. “I have a, a charm, silver, which allows me to be with him and still be safe. Ask him, we’ve used it before. It’s like vampires and garlic, he won’t hurt me. I promise.”
Remus appears behind his mother then, looking just as shocked but also much more hopeful, touching her arm so she steps back out of his way. “Sirius,” he says quietly. “Have you…come to stay?”
“Yes,” Sirius answers, grinning with relief. “Tonight, at least. Your mother’s invited me to supper.” Remus smiles slowly, and then Sirius is whisked into the bustle of Remus’ small family in their tiny house. He only gets time for a quick touch, a brush of their hands, but it’s enough. He can see his feelings echoed in Remus’s eyes, and it’s enough.
Supper is a relatively mundane affair, stew and rolls and warm glances across the table, a brief game of footsie beneath the table while Mrs. Lupin gets more dinner rolls from the oven, and then they’re being ushered down into the cellar, where Sirius is surprised to see a bedroll made up in one corner; sleeping bag, blanket and pillow.
Remus shrugs at his inquiring look. “They don’t really understand what it’s like,” he confesses, fingers plucking at his sleeves in a nervous habit that Sirius had thought he’d lost ages ago. “And they don’t usually get down here right away, to be sure it’s safe, so mum likes me to have someplace to sleep.”
Sirius touches his arm silently, and Remus smiles a little sadly, and then they part to strip off their clothes and get ready to change shape. Sirius transforms first, as always, but this time there’s no door to wait behind, no way to respect Remus’ privacy. He considers turning his back, but curiosity wins out, so he settles in the corner, head on his crossed paws, and watches.
It isn’t pretty, by any definition. Remus doubles over in pain within minutes, and as his form blurs, he bites down on his fist as if to stifle silent screams. Sirius fights the urge to go to him, telling himself not yet, but soon. It doesn’t take much longer, mercifully, and then the wolf is stretching out in its new body, watching him with interest. Sirius realizes that this is the first time they’ve been without James since…since whatever they are shifted into place, since it became a danger. The wolf sniffs the air, apparently realizing the same thing, and starts stalking him, slowly circling.
Sirius lowers his head and growls, warning the wolf off. This is not Remus, he reminds himself. Not Remus. He will not submit to the wolf, he will not be made part of the pack; or worse, prey. He has a responsibility to Remus, to not let that happen.
It’s a long night. They circle each other for a while, and then the wolf concentrates on finding a way out of the den they’re trapped in, and Sirius spends a few hours watching it look for weaknesses, testing the strength of every part of their cell.
Towards dawn, the wolf focuses its attention on Sirius again, and this time it will not be put off. Sirius growls, he barks and bares his teeth, but the wolf keeps circling, stalking. Looking for weaknesses. It pounces when he lets it get too far to the side, but Sirius realize his mistake in time and meets it head-on, clashing briefly before they fall to the floor, jaws snapping. It backs off, watching him warily, and Sirius plants himself firmly. Then the circling begins anew, and they do it all again. And again.
He doesn’t feel dawn coming the way the wolf does, and he doesn’t even know what time it is down here in the darkness, with no hints of pre-dawn light to warn him of the sunlight. It feels like hours before they clash yet again, rolling and growling, and Remus’ form blurs smoothly back into human shape. Sirius transforms with him, almost simultaneously, and their grappling bodies slide together, naked and damp with perspiration, into another kind of struggle.
Remus’ tongue is in Sirius’ mouth almost before he can moan to welcome it inside, and they grope each other on the cold floor for a few minutes before Sirius remembers the bed, and they fumble their way onto it, mouths still hungrily devouring each other without pause. Remus pins Sirius to the blanket and bites down on the throat that Sirius bares by tilting his head back in offering. They both break apart, panting and staring at each other, and then come together again, skin against skin the way they’ve never been before.
Sirius doesn’t know how long they have, but he guesses it’s hours yet, and Remus doesn’t appear to be worried. They move against each other, experimenting with touch and taste until Sirius is mindless with desire, mad from the strength of Remus’ hands holding him down, and they come together in an aching frenzy of slick thrusting, mouths locked together to muffle their cries.
Afterward Sirius drifts for a while, beyond exhausted but safe in Remus’ arms, completely at peace. “I’ll never leave you again,” he vows softly, whispering the pledge into Remus’ ear. “I promise.”
“I know,” Remus answers, pulling him up for a too-brief kiss. Sirius settles against his chest, drowsing already in perfect contentment, forcing himself to forget that they have another year of Hogwarts to survive, careers to make, lives to shape out of only seventeen years of growing up. It will all wait, he thinks. This is all that matters right now.
Somewhere above them, the moon is fading.
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Rating: R
Content/Warnings: s/D
Notes: With apologies to the British, the school year timeline is accidentally off by one month. For shanalle, kaydeefalls, and everyone else who has made me love this pairing. Edited by the incomparable impasto.
August
Remus is growing up. They’re all growing up, but Remus is growing differently, growing strange instead of merely older. James refuses to grow up, clinging to the shelter of being a teenager with no responsibilities, and Peter tries and tries to be an adult and live up to what is expected of him. Sirius can’t tell if he’s growing up, exactly, but he feels more mature, more confident. Remus…
Remus looks the same on the outside, although his body is growing, stretching and pulling limbs towards hands and feet that have always been too big. But looking into his eyes, sometimes it seems as though he’s aged ten years instead of one since last year, as if he’s already an old man and too tired to be a boy anymore.
Sirius doesn’t like it. He asks Dumbledore about it, pressing him with questions about why Remus acts so strange and what’s going on. He spends most of his career advisory meeting asking his Head of House what Remus will do when he graduates in two years, whether there’s anywhere for him to go. She deflects his questions and wants to talk about what he’ll do with his future, but he almost doesn’t care. He’s sixteen, graduating is a long way off. And he could do anything.
It’s the full moon; the question always seems to press more heavily on him then. He wonders if it weighs more heavily on Remus then, too, or if the weight is already as much as he can take and the full moon is no different because he’s a werewolf all the time, not just once every month.
Transfiguration is easier now, after so many months of practice, and most of the time they transform as a group, stick together and work as a pack - Remus’ pack - to keep the wolf safe and contained. Sirius has homework tonight, assigned at the last minute by the odious Slytherin-loving Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and it tears at him that he can’t go.
Remus tells him not to worry about it, that he understands, giving Sirius a long look out of those too-old eyes, and Sirius balls his hands into fists and wants to scream at their stupid professor for assigning him an extra essay tonight of all nights, and at himself for behaving badly enough to provoke it. He knows by now to tread carefully on full moon days. They’ve all had to miss a few, in turns, but he hates when it’s him. It feels like he’s disappointing Remus by not being there.
He can’t concentrate on the essay after they leave, sitting in the common room with twelve inches of blank parchment staring back at him, his shoulder still ghost-warm from James clasping it as they all left together. He keeps catching himself staring out the window at the moon, not visible much tonight as it disappears behind heavy clouds, emerging every few minutes to throw light across the rug and distract him again from what he’s supposed to be doing.
He wants to be with them. He wants to be with Remus.
September
It’s warm this month, for autumn. Sirius had been afraid he’d missed the best weather, the chance to feel the long grass under his belly as he ran, the playful mock-water fights they like to have at the edge of the lake. But it’s warm out, and Sirius strips off his shirt with a whoop, barely out of his clothes before he transforms, and Remus pets his furry head and laughs.
The change for Remus is always the worst, as if his body is fighting what’s happening to it; or maybe his mind is, resisting and giving in at the last instant to fear and panic. Sirius sometimes thinks it might be like dying, like knowing you were going to die and being resigned to it, but at the last moment still unable to help yourself from fighting to survive.
Sirius waits respectfully outside the door for Remus to change, and when the wolf finally slinks out to meet him, he barks, impatient to be outside and free. The wolf pauses, sniffing with narrowed eyes, and then agrees with a dry cough.
They run. Sirius almost forgets it’s a duty when it’s like this, the two of them under the moonlight, free and powerful, boiling over with the impossible immortality of youth, the belief that nothing, nothing can ever truly hurt them, and they will never die. They will live forever, running free.
He’s exhausted by the time the wolf breaks off, instinct drawing it back to the shack before the sun rises, with Sirius trotting obediently behind, panting from the exertion.
The change back is always smoother for Remus, a return to his own familiar form that happens so swiftly Sirius can sometimes blink and miss it. Sirius waits, as he always does, for humanity and recognition to return to Remus’ eyes, before he’ll risk the change back. He sees it, the flicker of pain as Remus unfurls into his own shape, naked and swaying with weariness, and then Remus is crumpling to the floor, curling around himself, and Sirius changes back with a haste that makes him stumble to get his arms around Remus on the dirty floor.
He’s never heard Remus sob like this, his body shaking, wracked, tears hidden behind grimy hands that he keeps over his face, as if to hide his pain from the world. From Sirius. Sirius just holds him, awkward but determined, and rocks him a little when the sobs become hysterical, rising into a crescendo of silent screams.
He doesn’t know what it’s about, but he can guess. Pressures of growing up, confusion about his place in the world, worry about what will become of him in a society that both hates and fears creatures labeled Dark. Sirius is going through the same thing himself, trying to balance the equations of a job and money against a family that has disowned and blacklisted him, wondering where he’ll go and what sort of man he’ll become. It’s terrifying, and he can only imagine how much worse it must be for Remus.
After a while Remus quiets, sobs gradually trickling off until he’s lying spent and exhausted in Sirius’ arms, taking deep, even breaths. Sirius rubs his back a little, not saying anything, and eventually Remus raises his face from his hands, eyes rimmed red and swollen, and wipes away the remaining tears with the back of one hand.
“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispers, and Sirius holds him a fraction tighter and says roughly, “I promise.”
October
They all go out together the next time, Sirius barking laughs at Peter scrabbling to keep up and James getting his antlers caught in the branches of a tree. He thinks Remus might be relieved to have them all here, maybe because three of them are a better distraction; maybe because Remus is afraid to fall apart again, and he can’t do it with all of them watching.
Peter the rat laughs a little bit too hard at James the stag, which leads to a game of James trying to impale Peter with the tips of his antlers while Peter squeals and tries to run. The wolf remains indifferent, keeping aloof from the rest of them and sniffing the ground, occasionally moving away and forcing Sirius to stay with him, watchful.
He never makes the mistake of thinking that the wolf is Remus. The rest of them change but stay the same, their consciousness unaltered by the shift in physical form. Remus’ shift is deeper, not just his body but his mind as well, his very soul. The wolf is a killer, a hunter, an animal. Remus is none of these, and Sirius will never, ever make the mistake of thinking they are one. Remus is not the wolf, and it is the wolf they are safeguarding now, so Sirius is cautious.
The wolf turns his head, and after a moment begins loping back towards the shack. Sirius barks to get James’ and Peter’s attention, but they are too involved in their game, oblivious to Sirius’ impatient growls.
The wolf is almost out of sight; Sirius can’t wait longer. He shudders to think of what they would do if they let the wolf out of their sight and something happened, if someone was hurt. Remus would never forgive them. He’d never forgive himself, and that’s what prods Sirius to trot faster, eventually bounding through the cool air until he reaches the wolf’s side. The wolf snaps at him but doesn’t really object, and soon enough they’re back in the shack, the wolf circling the floorboards and waiting for the dawn.
Sirius lays across the doorway, panting a little, and when the wolf snaps at him again, irritable, he jumps up and dances out of the way. The wolf snaps again and this time Sirius snaps back, unafraid but knowing better than to back down. They’ve played this game before, and the dog in Sirius knows not to show fear. The wolf may want to lead the pack, but Sirius will not cede control.
They tussle a little, mostly just feints and the occasional clash-and-shove when one of them jumps up onto their hind legs. Sirius is getting into the game when sunlight finally breaks through the window and the wolf shudders, splinter-quick shifting back into human form while Sirius’ paws are still against his side.
He knows better than to shift back fast, but he isn’t thinking, more concerned with what his claws might do to bare human skin, because he wasn’t being all that gentle with the wolf. With Remus it’s a different matter, but he knows better, he knows to wait, and then he’s shifted back and it doesn’t matter because Remus growls and there are teeth sinking into the back of Sirius’ neck.
Sirius stills, and waits. If he doesn’t move, Remus will eventually come back to himself, and he’ll let go. He won’t break the skin. Sirius doesn’t know what will happen if he does now, in human form but so soon changed. He doesn’t particularly want to find out. Remus’ saliva is wet against his neck, breath hot, and both of them are completely motionless, the only sound a continuous low growl from Remus’ throat.
It’s a dominance display. Sirius changes into a dog regularly, he understands the signals, the body language. The wolf was fighting Sirius for leadership of the pack, and the wolf isn’t quite gone yet. Remus’ teeth dig in a little harder, and Sirius gasps, trying desperately to force his tense muscles to relax into a proper display of submission. It’s hard, with Remus’ growl in his ears and sharp teeth clamped down tight onto his neck. But he manages, going limp and allowing the wolf the victory, and then Remus seems to abruptly realize what’s happening, and lets him go.
Sirius waits for a full ten seconds before slowly unbending to sit up, although he’s almost certain the danger has passed now. Remus looks sickened, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, and Sirius sees the gleam of saliva, can still feel it on the back of his neck where Remus sank his teeth in.
Remus opens his mouth - to apologize, probably - and Sirius does the same to forestall him when James and Peter burst in. They transform as soon as they see Remus and Sirius in human form, babbling apologies over top of each other for leaving them alone.
Sirius says nothing, and watches Remus. Remus won’t meet his eyes, and just looks away.
November
He’s been careful, knowing the full moon was coming, but not careful enough. Remus has been weird since last month, even weirder than the way he’s been the rest of the year, and every time Sirius had tried to get him to open up he’d found himself firmly shut out. Irritation had made him reckless, not to mention snappish, and he’d found himself in detention on the night of the full moon only seconds after the hex had found its mark and given Snape green-and-purple boils all over his oily face.
“I’ll meet you there after,” he’d pledged, but Remus had only looked at him and said not to worry about it, James and Peter would be there, they’d look after him. Sirius doesn’t want James and Peter to look after Remus, he wants to do it himself, and he and Remus both know that he does it best. He’d pushed, but Remus had pushed back, and that was when Sirius had realized that Remus actually didn’t want him there.
The knowledge hadn’t done much to improve his mood, and he storms off to detention after a good five minutes of accusatory ranting with Remus’ damning silence still echoing in his ears. Snape sneers at him in the hallway and Sirius hexes him again because there are no witnesses, and it doesn’t matter if he gets another detention because the important one is tonight.
He doesn’t understand. He’s pissed off and he knows something is up with Remus, but he doesn’t know what, and neither does James. He hasn’t bothered to ask Peter; Peter’s a good enough friend, but oblivious for the most part to what’s going on with his mates unless it’s so obvious that they all notice, like just now when Sirius shouted the tower down because he was so angry at Remus.
He stabs his quill savagely into the inkpot and begins writing his assigned essay on the unjustness of hexing fellow students, and gradually the anger drains out of him, replaced almost immediately by guilt. There’s always a risk, although they never acknowledge it, that something could go wrong. The wolf could get away from them; an adult wizard could see and misunderstand the situation; someone could be in the wrong place at the wrong time and end up being bitten.
They never fight on the night of the full moon, because all of them are aware of these things, and yet Sirius had just blown up in spectacular fashion and now he doesn’t have the chance to apologize for it. More guilt trickles in, increasing by the moment, and he’s almost counting the minutes until his detention is over and he can go and find them.
He can’t concentrate for worrying, and it’s late by the time he hands over his haphazardly written essay - although it probably sounded heartfelt near the end, because his apologies hadn’t been for Snape, but for Remus - and escapes towards the secret passage leading to the shack. They won’t be there, of course, but once he transforms he can track them easily enough.
He stops when he remembers what they were fighting about in the first place, and how poor an apology it would be to show up tonight in opposition to Remus’ wishes. It hurts Sirius to do it, but he finally slows to a halt and turns around, trudging back to the tower and hurling himself onto his bed, watching the window and waiting for daybreak.
They finally sneak in, about twenty minutes after the sun finally shows itself on the horizon, and Sirius sits bolt upright to hiss, “Moony?”
“We’re here,” James’ voice says, and the invisibility cloak whisks off to show the three of them, huddled together and weary from their night out. Sirius just stares until Remus finally meets his eyes and smiles tiredly, and Sirius knows he’s been forgiven. He smiles back, tentative but sincere, and Remus nods before falling into his own bed to sleep for a few precious hours before their morning classes.
Sirius thinks he may be still smiling when he follows Remus into sleep.
December
“I have to go,” Sirius insists for the eighth time, and this time James comes to his aid, perhaps hearing the desperation in his voice and knowing that time is running short. With James backing him up and making excuses to his relatives, Sirius can finally escape the Potter family brunch and make it out the door.
“Travel safe,” James whispers, and pushes his invisibility cloak into Sirius’ arms. He’s on his broom and in the air within minutes, the compass on the handle charmed to aim straight for Hogwarts.
It’s a long ride; he’s never traveled long-distance by broomstick before, and he hadn’t known when he set out exactly how long it would take. He’s weary after only a couple of hours, but watching the sun sink lower in the sky spurs him on, heart racing as he tries to figure out whether he’s miscalculated, or if he’ll make it there in time.
Hogwarts finally appears on the horizon when the sun has lowered itself to touch the hillside, bright colours seeping and bleeding into the landscape beneath. Sirius manages a final burst of speed, now that the goal is in sight, and heads straight for the shack, knowing that he doesn’t have time now to make it to the tower, and that Remus will already be preparing in their secret place.
He hits the ground running, and his legs wobble unexpectedly, almost pitching him to the ground after so long a ride. He catches himself with a hand in the dirt and stumbles into the shack, falling against the doorframe and panting when he sees with relief that Remus is still human.
Remus’ eyes are wary and frightened, but only for a minute, before he sees who has barged their way in, and then he smiles and relaxes, fists uncurling at his sides. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he confesses quietly, and Sirius’ heart lurches a little, but he gives Remus a bright, careless smile.
“Of course I came,” he answers, and one of Remus’ hands twitches out as if to touch him, but it drops to his side as he keeps smiling, and then the first shadows are cast across the floorboards, their final warning of sunset, and they are distracted by preparations, stripping and taking their places, Sirius transforming and waiting patiently for Remus.
They run in the snow that night, plowing through drifts and sneezing when the wet fluff gets up their noses. Sirius runs circles around the wolf, barking loud enough to wake the students, and they scrabble at each other playfully, kicking up snow and rolling around in it until their fur is soaked.
Remus is shivering when he transforms back, and Sirius knows why when he changes back and the cold hits his bare skin, his hair wet through and every part of him close to freezing. They scramble into their clothes and get back to the tower as fast as they can, stripping again as soon as they make it inside in order to towel off and put on warmer pajamas.
Sirius pours two cups of water and does his best to conjure hot chocolate; neither of them are up for a trip down to the kitchens when it’s nearly full morning and the flagstones are so cold against their feet. He grimaces when he tastes what he’s created, and Remus laughs but drinks all of his, as if to prove that it isn’t really as terrible as Sirius knows it is.
They’re curled up together on Remus’ bed, because it’s warm beneath the blankets and Sirius doesn’t feel like giving up Remus’ body heat. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, even when his eyelids droop and his head nods onto Sirius’ shoulder.
“I’m glad you came,” he murmurs, and Sirius answers softly, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
January
Something’s changed. Sirius doesn’t know exactly what, but he finds himself smiling now, all the time, and most of the time he’s smiling at Remus. Remus smiles back, and they sneak glances and nudge each other with their elbows and giggle, and James and Peter roll their eyes but don’t really seem to mind. Remus still hides behind his books sometimes, but now Sirius thinks it’s because he’s blushing, and that thought just makes Sirius grin harder.
Their professors seem surprised, but overall they appear to be of the opinion that whatever it is, it’s having a positive effect on Sirius, and anything that keeps him out of trouble is fine with them.
The truth is, he’s too happy to focus on causing trouble, too giddy nearly all of the time. Remus teases him about having stars in his eyes, but Sirius only laughs, and they spend another day with their heads bent together, whispering private jokes and giggling at nothing at all. It feels a lot like being in love.
Sirius imagines himself in Hogsmeade holding Remus’ hand, and he grins when he looks at Remus, and Remus grins back even though he doesn’t know what’s so funny. James rolls his eyes at them for the umpteenth time that morning, calls them gits in a mostly-affectionate manner, and takes himself off in search of lunch.
Sirius floats on air all day even though it’s the full moon tonight, and even Remus doesn’t seem to mind as much as he usually does, not pensive so much as distracted, and that’s easily remedied by Sirius cracking a joke or whispering an amusing comment about one of their fellow students.
Sirius’ good mood continues into his transformation, and he barks at Peter and chases him around while they’re still waiting for Remus to shift, while James looks on, trying to keep his head low and his antlers from catching on anything. When the wolf finally pokes its head out of the door, Sirius switches targets and barks at it, startling it briefly before it lopes out to join them.
Even the full moon watch is different tonight. Sirius catches himself being…playful, with the wolf, almost teasing, and he knows James and Peter are watching him for the lead, uncertain about this new dynamic. Sirius knows that the wolf isn’t Remus, that Remus isn’t the wolf, but he can’t help himself. He chases the wolf and nips its heels, and when the wolf pounces on him and growls he only squirms and yips until he’s free again and can do it all over.
He knows he’s gone too far when the wolf growls a warning and he doesn’t heed, his dog-self still bent on playing and busy snapping at the wolf’s tail. The wolf turns and bites him; not seriously, not enough to bleed, but Sirius still dances back in shock and then the wolf springs at him, slamming him back into a tree trunk before growling and snapping again, backing off.
James stays with him, worried, while Peter follows the wolf. James’ head is bowed in concern, hooves pawing the dirt, but after a few minutes of licking the wounds Sirius shakes it off and woofs reassurance.
He keeps his distance for the rest of the night; not because he’s afraid or cowed in the least, but he knows enough to respect the wolf, and the wolf has been pushed too far tonight. James occupies it for the few remaining hours, letting the wolf stalk him and keeping it at bay with sharp antlers and strong legs, until once more the wolf senses dawn and wearies of the game, turning towards the shack.
Sirius springs into action then, nipping the wolf until it growls, and then he begins a race back to the shack, one in which the wolf matches him easily, but James and Peter cannot. They detour, circle, chase, and barely make it back before Remus is shifting again, straightening from four legs onto two.
Sirius waits his customary few moments for awareness to return to Remus’ eyes, and then he transforms as well, grinning like a maniac in spite of the ache all along his back and side. Remus’ eyes are dark with concern, undoubtedly remembering now what happened, and the crack of Sirius’ body hitting the tree.
“You’re bleeding,” he murmurs, gaze full of worry, and Sirius glances down at the scrapes and shrugs them off, buoyed up into giddiness by the proof of how much Remus cares.
“I don’t care,” he says honestly, and the euphoria gives him the courage to take two steps forward and take Remus’ startled face between his hands, to press their lips together firmly even when Remus automatically struggles against being held.
Shock stops the struggling, and then Remus kisses him back, tentatively but with genuine desire, heedless of the fact that both of them are still naked and the shack is winter-cold. Sirius tilts his head back and laughs, and Remus shakes his and kisses him again.
February
“We can’t go to Hogsmeade together this weekend,” Remus insists, trudging resolutely up the stairs to the tower and leaving Sirius to chase after him like a puppy. Sirius catches up at the top, and waits for Remus to speak the password and the portrait hole to open before he continues the argument.
“Why not? It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, I want to spend it with you,” Sirius says stubbornly, lowering his voice only a fraction out of respect for the sensitivity of the subject and the number of people hanging out in the common room avoiding the cold.
“That’s why.” Remus heads up the flight of stairs leading to their dormitory, and Sirius crosses his arms over his chest and follows behind, jaw set and completely unwilling to lose this fight. Remus sighs and sets his books down on the nightstand, turning to face Sirius with a weary expression. “We have to go with girls, or at least you do, or people will start to suspect.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius scoffs. “We go places together all the time, we always have. No one will think anything of it. It’s a holiday for couples, and I want to spend it with you.” He’s aware that he may be pushing Remus too far this particular time, and he doesn’t really want to fight, not today with a full moon looming, but he thinks that sneaking around pretending to date girls is stupid, when they’ve been in plain view for a month now and no one has noticed anything.
“We said we weren’t ready to come out to everyone,” Remus points out wearily, crossing his arms in a less defiant echo of Sirius’ posture and leaning back against the bedpost. “If we go to Hogsmeade for Valentine’s Day and spend it together, that’s exactly what we’ll be doing.” His eyes glance over the jut of Sirius’ jaw, and his tone turns soothing. “You should take Eleanor, she’d be thrilled to go with you, and she wouldn’t be heartbroken if it was only for one day.”
“I don’t care about bloody Eleanor!” Sirius explodes, taking two steps forward to get his arms around Remus, or at least his hands on Remus, touching the sleeves of his dress robes but keeping enough distance between them so that if James or Peter bursts in, they won’t see anything out of the ordinary. He grinds his teeth at the recognition that he’s only proving Remus’ point, even now being cautious. If they went to Hogsmeade together, more people than James and Peter would suspect. And with good reason.
“It’s just one day,” Remus murmurs, his voice dry as always but still soothing, like a balm for Sirius’ wounded heart. His hand rises to brush over Sirius’ cheek, gentle and knowing. Sirius damns discovery to hell for long enough to steal a kiss; one that Remus allows, and returns wholeheartedly for the brief couple of seconds that it lasts.
“It’s a day without you,” Sirius replies, but he’s really already given in. Remus is right. Remus is always right. It would be annoying, if Remus didn’t always find a way to ease the sting of defeat. Remus’ hand strokes his hair, still gentle, and Sirius sighs. “We could always stay here,” he suggests, shifting forward so that their bodies brush, bump softly. “Skip Hogsmeade altogether and celebrate in private.”
Remus’ intake of breath tells Sirius that he knows exactly what Sirius means by that, and Sirius is tempted so strongly in that moment to cast locking charms on the door and take the risk right now, knowing that James is at Quidditch practice and Peter had said he’d be in the library all afternoon.
“Peter’s staying,” Remus whispers, but his voice is full of regret, and that’s enough to allow Sirius to let go and take a step back without being overwhelmed by the need to cling and claim. “He told me yesterday, he has homework.”
“And Dandelion turned him down when he asked her, to go with Zacharias Corner instead,” Sirius finishes with a sigh, tugging the sleeves of his robe down. “Dammit.” For a moment he’s so frustrated by it all that he almost insists they tell everyone, just throws it all to hell, drags Remus down to the common room and kisses him soundly in front of everyone so the cat is once and for all out of the bag.
But he can’t do that, for both of their sakes, so he just smiles wistfully and shrugs. “I’ll go with Eleanor,” he agrees. He holds Remus’ eyes, as serious as he ever gets. “But I’ll be coming back to you.”
Remus’ eyes are just as serious, although his eyes are smiling, and his hand whispers like a ghost across Sirius’ sleeve. “I know.”
March
They’ve reached the home stretch now, the last few months before final exams, and Remus retreats more often than not to the library, spending the days and evenings shut away with his books and his notes. Sirius coaxes him out when he can, as do James and Peter, but for the most part he stays away from them, working toward his perfect marks with the equally studious Ravenclaws.
What frustrates Sirius more than the studying, however, is the way Remus is acting lately. They’ve never done more than steal kisses and a few lingering touches when they can get away with it, but now Remus keeps him at arm’s length, shying away whenever Sirius reaches out to him.
Sirius has complained loudly and at great length to James, leaving out things like the fact that Remus won’t kiss him anymore and concentrating on illustrating what a wanker Remus is lately by avoiding them, but James shrugs it off and points out that Remus gets like that, Moody Moony, they should all be used to it by now. Sirius calls James a wanker and stalks off to brood, and then Peter finds him for an impromptu prank on the Slytherins and he feels a bit better. At least until the next time he catches Remus in an empty corridor, when he leans in and Remus turns his head away, whispering an excuse.
“He’s worried about what happens this summer, and after graduation next year,” Peter suggests over dinner, where Remus is somewhat conspicuously absent. “We all are.”
James claps him on the back and tells him to stop sulking. “He’ll come around,” James assures him, and then the conversation turns to Hufflepuff’s blonde bombshell Delilah Warbeck and her latest exploits among the male population at Hogwarts in all four Houses, which leads inevitably to discussion of James’ latest attempts to woo Lily Evans, and the matter is forgotten by everyone but Sirius, who glowers at the door to the Great Hall every time it opens and Remus doesn’t come through.
He can tell that Remus doesn’t want him there for this full moon, but Sirius stubbornly ignores all of Remus’ hinting to that effect, and James and Peter wisely choose to stay out of it. Thus it is that the four of them find themselves as usual in the shack, with Remus inside waiting to shift, James bored already and poking things with his antlers, Peter sniffing around with wide eyes, and Sirius growling at the door knowing that the cause of all of his frustration is on the other side turning into a wolf.
If dogs can be said to give the cold shoulder, Sirius does. He ignores the wolf, which in the end is only more frustrating for him, because the wolf is not Remus and ignores him right back without caring at all. James pokes Sirius with his antler at one point and Sirius growls at him, and the wolf turns his head and fixes them with a cold, distant look that reminds Sirius all-too-much of Remus. Sirius snarls and sets off into the Forbidden Forest, where he sniffs things and noses around and pisses on trees until it’s time to return to the shack for the sunrise.
After they transform back, Sirius crosses his arms and cuts Remus off from trying to leave. “Give us a minute,” he tells James and Peter. “We’ll meet you back in the room.” James shrugs, and Peter glances curiously between them before retreating after James, leaving the two of them alone in the shack at opposite ends of the room.
Remus looks hunted, and Sirius doesn’t give him a chance to go on the attack. “Why?” he asks bluntly, shifting to block the doorway with his body, effectively trapping Remus inside. “Why are you acting so strange? What’s going on with you lately?”
“Sirius,” Remus begins, but Sirius sets his jaw and refuses to move, and Remus eventually deflates with a sigh. He wraps his arms around himself, looking slightly lost, and Sirius melts a little in spite of his determination to be strong and not give in. “I’m afraid,” Remus confesses, and that seems to be Sirius’ cue to step forward, to meet Remus on less hostile terms.
“Afraid of what?” he asks, halting a few feet away from Remus, watching as he fusses with the threadbare sleeve of his newly donned robe. Remus looks up then, and his gaze is so intense that Sirius’ eyes widen involuntarily, surprised at how hot Remus’ eyes seem to burn.
“I want to hurt you sometimes,” Remus says quietly, and Sirius’ heart drops in his chest, plummeting into ice. “I think about hurting you. When we’re alone, when I’m with you and there’s no one else around. I think…” He takes a deep breath, and Sirius tries to do the same, but he feels like his heart has been frozen to ice, and it hurts to breathe. “I think it’s the wolf. I don’t think it’s ever safe around me, not really, and if we did something and I hurt you, Sirius…”
Sirius forces himself to walk forward and take Remus into his arms then, because the look on Remus’ face is one of total misery, and Sirius can’t stand to see him in pain, even when he feels like he’s just been stabbed in the chest. He never imagined Remus could want to hurt him. Not Remus, not ever. He doesn’t know how he feels now, but Remus’ arms wind around him readily enough, and his head rests against Sirius’ shoulder, his whole body trembling with weariness.
“I’m sorry,” Remus whispers. Sirius shakes his head and holds Remus tightly, and doesn’t let him go for a long time after.
April
It’s a few hours before the sun sets and Remus is edgy, Sirius knows, because he’s edgy himself. They’ve been careful with each other since Remus’ confession, not touching beyond a quick brush of fingers in passing, no kisses even when James and Peter aren’t in the room. Sirius doesn’t really believe, in his heart, that Remus would ever harm him. But Remus does, and that’s really all that matters.
Peter’s in detention and James has run up to get the invisibility cloak for the trip back while Sirius and Remus head down to the shack. Sirius doesn’t think about just how jumpy Remus must feel at being alone with him until he reaches out impulsively to grab Remus’ arm, wanting to show him a dazzling spider’s web, and Remus whirls around and slams Sirius into the wall so hard that the breath leaves his body in a rush.
He can’t help it. He’s aware that he’s treading dangerous ground, but Remus is still human, still sane, and Sirius’ reaction to being pinned against a wall is not entirely one of fear. Remus’ eyes are dark and hungry, and Sirius reacts almost without thinking, submitting to the wolf he sees lurking behind Remus’ eyes by tilting his head back and exposing his throat.
Remus snarls at him, but Sirius swallows and suddenly Remus is biting down, sinking his teeth in hard and it feels incredible, Sirius moans and his hips jump forward of their own volition, and Remus’ growl sends shocks of vibration all the way through his body. He moans again and squirms, trying to get more contact or more friction, something, and Remus pins his wrists to the wall and grinds against him so firmly that Sirius moans again and his cock leaps in his pants.
Remus bites him again, marking his throat, fingers digging into his wrists and undoubtedly leaving dark bruises to blossom in their wake. Sirius can’t bring himself to care, and he’s honestly turned on by the thought of it, imagining Remus’ fingerprints on his skin and his teeth leaving red marks on Sirius’ throat.
He struggles just enough that Remus has to slam him into the wall again to keep him still, and Sirius’ breath gusts out of him again as his head smacks into the wall and Remus pins him in place more firmly. He’s dazed, turned on beyond belief and confused about what’s going on, why he feels like every cell in his body is screaming affirmation.
Remus finally tears himself away from Sirius’ throat, leaving Sirius to slump bonelessly against the wall. “No,” Remus says hoarsely, backing away while Sirius blinks and tries to pull himself together on legs that feel like they’re made out of jelly. “Sirius, don’t.”
Don’t what? Sirius thinks, and he remembers somewhere in the back of his brain Remus’ voice saying I think about hurting you but he didn’t know it would be like this, and he didn’t know just how unfraid he really was of what might happen if Remus ever did.
“Remus,” Sirius says, but his brain still isn’t functioning properly, the blood diverted to other areas, and at that moment James puffs through the door into the shack and the chance for communication is lost.
James glances between them but obviously doesn’t see anything wrong, and tries to draw Sirius back through the door so that Remus can shift alone. “Don’t come out tonight,” Remus says suddenly, while Sirius’ body is still trying to remember how to resist James’ hands. “Sirius, don’t. I’ll maul you.”
James stops, surprised and worried, but Sirius shakes his head. “I trust you,” he answers. “Even when you’re the wolf.” Remus stares at him with eyes still dark and too knowing, and James pulls him out of the room where they strip silently, transform and wait.
Sirius shivers when the wolf pads out and looks at him, but the wolf only stares at him, cold and indifferent, and then lopes off down the hill into the moonlight. James pauses for a moment, waiting to make sure that Sirius is all right, and then they set off together after it. Sirius is skittish around the wolf, somehow unable to be assertive as he usually is, but for the most part the wolf ignores him, and whenever he starts to show interest, keen stare focused on Sirius and making him whimper, James is there between them, antlers lowered to keep the wolf at bay.
By the time they transform back, Sirius is exhausted and Remus looks equally weary, hollow-eyed and slumped against the wall. James ushers them back like an overprotective mother, and Sirius makes it all the way to the dormitory before he stops, unable to focus for long enough to crawl into bed and stop the shivering. Remus stops and watches him, eyes still dark but not the way they were, not fierce and hot, and when he holds out a hand Sirius follows him like a puppy, stumbling into Remus’ bed and curling up inside the warm circle of his arms.
“Sleep,” Remus whispers, and Sirius is unconscious almost before he finishes the word.
May
The demands of their bodies are staring to get out of their control, and there have been more close calls with James and Peter than Sirius cares to think about. He thinks James might suspect, and after the positions he’s caught them in, it would hardly be a shock if he knew. They keep swearing to be careful, but every time Remus looks at him with that cold fire in his eyes Sirius’ brain ceases to function, and whatever that does to his expression, Remus always responds to it instantly, tension rising to an unbearable level within the space of a few seconds.
If they’re alone, there’s never even the slightest hope of resisting. Remus has pinned him against the wall between their beds so often that there’s a dark smudge from Sirius’ sweaty palms, and Sirius’ hands have curled around the bedpost to hold himself upright so many times that he thinks the pattern of grooves must be permanently imprinted on his palms.
There’s never a chance to reach climax, only a few stolen moments of frantic thrusting against each other while Remus’ teeth leave marks and Sirius keens, and then they force themselves to break apart, panting, before someone walks in and discovers them. It gets harder every time, and some days Sirius knows Remus is thinking the same thing he is, that it would be worth the risk if they could just finish it, just once, just this time. They’ve gotten so close it made Sirius want to scream, and only Peter’s fumbling at the door had saved them that last time.
It’s the last full moon tonight before the holidays, and James has talked Sirius into staying with him for the summer. “You can’t stay with Remus’ folks,” he’d pointed out. “They’d take you in, but they don’t have the money, and you know it would be a burden on them. And can you imagine spending an entire summer alone with Peter? How boring would that be? Come stay with me.”
Sirius had hedged, talked it over with Remus while carefully avoiding the subject of the Lupins’ financial status, and finally agreed. So now he’s leaving in three days, and this is possibly the last time he’ll be with Remus during the full moon for the next three months.
They’re down by the lake now, hidden from prying eyes by tall water-weeds and a discreet concealment charm, while everyone else is inside packing and hastily finishing the final Transfiguration essay that Remus insisted Sirius write three days early. Sirius’ cloak is spread out beneath them, both of them drinking their fill of each other before they have to go away for the summer.
“We should cool off,” Remus had suggested, but it seems like a waste of something too precious for them to give up a single moment of it, even if it would make parting easier in the long run. Sirius grabs at every chance he has to be alone with Remus, and he knows that Remus is doing the same. The need to be together is stronger than the caution to stay apart.
It’s a hot day, the kind that wilts your motivation to do anything at all, and Sirius is content to simply lie on his cloak and touch Remus, allow Remus to touch him in return. They trade slow, lazy kisses, the usual heat of passion missing today, or perhaps just simmering beneath the surface while they drift and caress.
“Do you ever think we might be this way anyway?” Sirius asks idly, while Remus’ hands find their way beneath his shirt and his lips trail light kisses over Sirius’ collarbone. “If you weren’t a wolf? If it would be the same?”
Remus hums, pausing briefly, and then he takes Sirius’ hands and kisses the insides of his wrists, making Sirius’ breath flutter in his chest. “If I’d still want to tear you open, mark you as mine and delight in your suffering?” Remus asks dryly, and just the words make Sirius harden, even without the gust of soft breath over sensitive skin. “No, I don’t think so.”
Sirius considers that for a few moments, watching the clouds and relaxing into the soothing way Remus opens his mouth against the inside of Sirius’ wrist, sucking and gently gnawing. “I think I would be,” he says finally, and Remus bites down, making him shudder and go limp, head falling back against the cloak and soft grass.
Remus drags himself up to lie beside Sirius, propped up on one elbow and gazing at him seriously. “No one could want as much as I do,” he says softly, tracing the curve of Sirius’ cheek with a fingernail. “No one human. No one could want the things I want to do to you and not go mad.”
Sirius pulls him down until their mouths brush, tongues curling loosely around each other before parting. “I do,” he says, holding Remus’ gaze. “I want that much.”
Remus kisses him again, and Sirius pretends it’s not goodbye.
June
Sirius is trapped. Penned in, stifled, claustrophobic and going mad. It’s the full moon tonight, he knows without having to second-guess or check the lunar calendar on the wall, and he’s not with Remus. None of them are.
“We can’t,” James had said, sympathetic but unwavering. “What are we going to do, show up and tell his parents that we’re his illegal Animagi roommates, come to keep him company? There would be nowhere for us to take him even if we went, he’s in the middle of a bloody city.”
Sirius had turned away, pressed against the glass window in his borrowed guest bedroom. James had put a hand on his shoulder, understanding without words. Sirius is almost certain now that James knows, after watching Sirius mope around for weeks only to brighten every time the Lupins’ owl arrived with letters.
“He’ll manage,” James had promised, giving Sirius’ shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “He always did before. He’ll be okay.”
Sirius thought about how Remus had managed before, the explanations of accidents when he’d spent the day after every full moon in the hospital wing, covered in cuts and bruises and wearing a tired, false-comfort smile. He doesn’t want that to happen again, not even once or twice over the summer. They should have brought Remus here. They should have made an excuse, any excuse, and gotten him out of the city for one night. They…Sirius. Sirius should have taken care of him.
He sends one last letter before dinner, folded hastily and signed with a pawprint, which he hopes will reach Remus before he locks himself into the basement or wherever his parents keep him during full moons. Tell me when it’s over.
He doesn’t sleep that night. James comes in to check on him a few times, offering to play exploding snap or wizard’s chess, but Sirius can’t concentrate on the game and eventually tells James to get some sleep. He watches the moon through the window, listens to the sounds of Mr. and Mrs. Potter preparing for bed, and then to the silence outside and the soft chirping of crickets in the yard.
His palms are sweaty by the time dawn arrives, his back rigid and aching from having sat up at the window all night. The sun rises and no word comes, but he tells himself that it will take time, that Remus might even need to sleep first, that he won’t be able to send any word until his parents wake up and unlock his door. Then the owl will have to travel all this way, and if Remus forgets…
He jerks out of sleep when he hears an owl hoot, and the scrabbling of talons on a windowpane. It takes him a moment to wake up, disoriented and eyes gummy from lack of sleep, and then he stumbles downstairs to where the Potter family is having breakfast, and the postal owl is delivering the morning mail.
“Hey,” James greets him, looking up from buttering his toast at the sound of Sirius’ feet on the stairs. “You looked pretty worn out, so I thought I’d let you sleep through breakfast. Hope you don’t mind.”
Sirius murmurs something in response, watching as Mr. Potter sorts through the letters, frowns at one, and passes it on to his son. James glances at it, and his eyes flick up to Sirius. “Ah,” he says, holding out the envelope. “I think this one’s for you.”
Sirius tears open the envelope, ignoring the Potters’ curious looks and James’ knowing one. He swallows when he sees what’s been written, and sits down hard at the table. James passes him the juice without comment, and Sirius folds up the letter with trembling hands. It’s over. I miss you.
James leans over once his parents are distracted by something in the Daily Prophet and deep in conversation. “Is he okay?” James asks, and Sirius lets out a breath, nodding and clenching the envelope tightly in his hand.
“Yeah. He’s okay.”
July
Sirius can’t, he cannot, go through another full moon without Remus. He tells James to make excuses for him if his parents ask, climbs out the window and onto his broomstick, and rouses his owl, who fluffs her feathers at him and hoots balefully at the presumption. He gives her a treat and scratches her head until she’s mollified, and then whispers his directions. “Remus’ house.”
She looks at him blankly, and then holds up a delicate foot for his letter. He shakes his head and tries to explain to her in gestures. “Take me. I’m the package. Take me to Remus.”
She hoots, probably disapproving of the unusual delivery, but flaps her wings and takes off, leaving him to fly after her into the clouds. He has to stay higher than she does, out of Muggle sight, but James’ invisibility cloak is wrapped tightly around him and as much of the broomstick as he could manage, and he’s high up enough that anything else will be written off with a logical explanation.
He has to duck down once they get close, because he’s in danger of losing her in the city, but she seems very aware of where he is and how fast he can go, and she leads him to the window with no difficulty at all.
He hops off the broom, coos praises to her and sends her home with another treat between her jaws. Then he draws himself up, takes a deep breath, and knocks on the Lupins’ door.
Remus’ mother answers the door, and she looks understandably shocked to see him standing there. “Sirius,” she says, obviously recognizing him from the train station, and then her surprise turns to dismay. “I’m afraid you can’t stay tonight, we have…plans, but you’re welcome to join us for supper if you like.”
“I…I know,” he blurts out, trying to explain without giving away the game. “About Remus, I mean.” Mrs. Lupin pales, obviously about to turn him politely away, so he continues hastily. “I have a, a charm, silver, which allows me to be with him and still be safe. Ask him, we’ve used it before. It’s like vampires and garlic, he won’t hurt me. I promise.”
Remus appears behind his mother then, looking just as shocked but also much more hopeful, touching her arm so she steps back out of his way. “Sirius,” he says quietly. “Have you…come to stay?”
“Yes,” Sirius answers, grinning with relief. “Tonight, at least. Your mother’s invited me to supper.” Remus smiles slowly, and then Sirius is whisked into the bustle of Remus’ small family in their tiny house. He only gets time for a quick touch, a brush of their hands, but it’s enough. He can see his feelings echoed in Remus’s eyes, and it’s enough.
Supper is a relatively mundane affair, stew and rolls and warm glances across the table, a brief game of footsie beneath the table while Mrs. Lupin gets more dinner rolls from the oven, and then they’re being ushered down into the cellar, where Sirius is surprised to see a bedroll made up in one corner; sleeping bag, blanket and pillow.
Remus shrugs at his inquiring look. “They don’t really understand what it’s like,” he confesses, fingers plucking at his sleeves in a nervous habit that Sirius had thought he’d lost ages ago. “And they don’t usually get down here right away, to be sure it’s safe, so mum likes me to have someplace to sleep.”
Sirius touches his arm silently, and Remus smiles a little sadly, and then they part to strip off their clothes and get ready to change shape. Sirius transforms first, as always, but this time there’s no door to wait behind, no way to respect Remus’ privacy. He considers turning his back, but curiosity wins out, so he settles in the corner, head on his crossed paws, and watches.
It isn’t pretty, by any definition. Remus doubles over in pain within minutes, and as his form blurs, he bites down on his fist as if to stifle silent screams. Sirius fights the urge to go to him, telling himself not yet, but soon. It doesn’t take much longer, mercifully, and then the wolf is stretching out in its new body, watching him with interest. Sirius realizes that this is the first time they’ve been without James since…since whatever they are shifted into place, since it became a danger. The wolf sniffs the air, apparently realizing the same thing, and starts stalking him, slowly circling.
Sirius lowers his head and growls, warning the wolf off. This is not Remus, he reminds himself. Not Remus. He will not submit to the wolf, he will not be made part of the pack; or worse, prey. He has a responsibility to Remus, to not let that happen.
It’s a long night. They circle each other for a while, and then the wolf concentrates on finding a way out of the den they’re trapped in, and Sirius spends a few hours watching it look for weaknesses, testing the strength of every part of their cell.
Towards dawn, the wolf focuses its attention on Sirius again, and this time it will not be put off. Sirius growls, he barks and bares his teeth, but the wolf keeps circling, stalking. Looking for weaknesses. It pounces when he lets it get too far to the side, but Sirius realize his mistake in time and meets it head-on, clashing briefly before they fall to the floor, jaws snapping. It backs off, watching him warily, and Sirius plants himself firmly. Then the circling begins anew, and they do it all again. And again.
He doesn’t feel dawn coming the way the wolf does, and he doesn’t even know what time it is down here in the darkness, with no hints of pre-dawn light to warn him of the sunlight. It feels like hours before they clash yet again, rolling and growling, and Remus’ form blurs smoothly back into human shape. Sirius transforms with him, almost simultaneously, and their grappling bodies slide together, naked and damp with perspiration, into another kind of struggle.
Remus’ tongue is in Sirius’ mouth almost before he can moan to welcome it inside, and they grope each other on the cold floor for a few minutes before Sirius remembers the bed, and they fumble their way onto it, mouths still hungrily devouring each other without pause. Remus pins Sirius to the blanket and bites down on the throat that Sirius bares by tilting his head back in offering. They both break apart, panting and staring at each other, and then come together again, skin against skin the way they’ve never been before.
Sirius doesn’t know how long they have, but he guesses it’s hours yet, and Remus doesn’t appear to be worried. They move against each other, experimenting with touch and taste until Sirius is mindless with desire, mad from the strength of Remus’ hands holding him down, and they come together in an aching frenzy of slick thrusting, mouths locked together to muffle their cries.
Afterward Sirius drifts for a while, beyond exhausted but safe in Remus’ arms, completely at peace. “I’ll never leave you again,” he vows softly, whispering the pledge into Remus’ ear. “I promise.”
“I know,” Remus answers, pulling him up for a too-brief kiss. Sirius settles against his chest, drowsing already in perfect contentment, forcing himself to forget that they have another year of Hogwarts to survive, careers to make, lives to shape out of only seventeen years of growing up. It will all wait, he thinks. This is all that matters right now.
Somewhere above them, the moon is fading.