(no subject)
RULED BY THE MOON
Chapter 9
Title: Ruled by the Moon
Author: Me, nellie_darlin
Disclaimer: Not mine. Jo's.
Pairing/Characters: Remus/Sirius (unrequited so far!)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Genre: Everything! Tis Lupin's Life!
A/N: Many millions of thanks to lyras for the beta-ing, and her endless patience with my vacillating and sometimes shocking writing habits. Feedback is adored.
Summary: Being an account of the life of Remus J Lupin, Esquire, from his first day at Hogwarts to his last on this earth. In many chapters. Also starring Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and the various inhabitants of Hogwarts and the wizarding world.
Teaser: “Lupin! Hey, Lupin!”
Remus, half-way across the entrance hall in the quest for breakfast, stopped and turned. Oliver Lewis was running down the stairs, a piece of paper clutched in his hand.
Chapter 9
The Map is Born
“Lupin! Hey, Lupin!”
Remus, half-way across the entrance hall in the quest for breakfast, stopped and turned. Oliver Lewis was running down the stairs, a piece of paper clutched in his hand.
“McGonagall asked me to give you this,” he said, as he approached. “It’s the new rota for prefect duty.”
Remus flicked a glance at Sirius, who was hovering by him, his eyes narrowed, and he felt a blush rise in his cheeks. “Thanks, Oliver.”
“No problem.” Oliver also glanced at Sirius, an eyebrow raised. Sirius ignored the hint.
“Um, Sirius, I’ll meet you in the Great Hall,” Remus said, his blush deepening.
Sirius stared at Remus for a second, his eyes hard, before turning on his heel and marching off. Remus sagged, feeling weary and depressed.
“So, Lupin,” Oliver said, more quietly, “have you thought a bit about what I said the other night?”
“Yes,” Remus replied. “I’ve thought about it.”
“Well, the offer still stands, if you’re interested.”
Remus chewed his lip, debating, unable to meet Oliver’s eyes. “Oliver, I -” he began, then stopped. “Look, I need a bit longer. Can I - could I get back to you on that? Is there - I mean, could I meet you somewhere?”
Oliver nodded, his smile slightly forced. “You know that old classroom on the seventh floor? The one with all the sofas?” Remus nodded. “Meet me there. After supper.”
“Right.” Remus didn’t meet Oliver’s eyes as he walked away.
“Who was that?” Sirius asked, sharply, when Remus slid into his seat.
“Oliver Lewis,” Remus muttered, piling sausages and fried potatoes onto his plate. “Ravenclaw sixth year. He wanted to give me the new rota.”
“How’s Cleo, Sirius?” James said then, with a leer.
“The same,” Sirius said, shortly, before turning his attention back to Remus. He could feel Sirius’s eyes boring into his face, and wondered if he was blushing again.
Sirius was unpleasant for the rest of breakfast, and Remus felt supremely justified in snapping when Sirius asked, faux-casually, “So, was that all he wanted?” as they left the Great Hall.
“No,” Remus said, angrily, “no, it wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted to ask me out, actually.”
“Ask you out? Like on a date?”
“Are you so surprised?”
That seemed to startle Sirius. “Well, no,” he replied honestly through a mask of sheepishness. “No, it’s not surprising. It was just - ” He gesticulated silently for a moment or two, and then said abruptly, “I need the toilet. I’ll see you in the common room.” Shaking his head, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Remus stunned and fuming in the Entrance Hall.
~*~
Outright apologies from Sirius Black were almost unheard of, but he would often leave one in no doubt of his contrition, without actually saying, “I’m sorry.” Today was such an occasion. Sirius was quietly affectionate and whenever a hint of impatience entered Remus’s voice, Sirius would look at him with his puppy-dog eyes (Oh, how appropriate! Remus thought) and Remus’s anger would recede like the tide. When they were alone again that afternoon, Sirius moved to the window, fidgeting with his hands, before turning back abruptly and sitting down on Remus’s bed so violently that he bounced.
“I think you should go out with him,” Sirius said earnestly. This was a classic Sirius-apology.
Remus slowly lowered his book, searching Sirius’s face for hints of mockery, but there was none to be found. Sirius’s brows were furrowed, his mouth twisting awkwardly, his whole face a picture of sincerity and affection. He was also picking at the eiderdown, teasing out a feather that was poking through the fabric. He didn’t quite meet Remus’s eyes.
“Why?” Remus said, slowly.
“Because he’s good looking. He’s nice. He’s good at Quidditch.”
“Those are good reasons,” Remus replied gravely.
“And I think you fancy him. Do you fancy him?”
Remus blushed, and fought a sudden urge to pick at the eiderdown as well. “I sort of do,” he said. “I’m not sure.”
“Well,” Sirius said, and swallowed. “I mean, do you, erm - you know. Do you feel, erm - stuff?”
“Yeah,” Remus said. “Yeah, I do.”
“Do you get a hard-on?”
Remus stared at Sirius, who shrugged. He dropped his head again, his face boiling, and said, “I have.”
“Oh.” Sirius licked his lips and swallowed again. “What’s it like, then?”
“I don’t actually know,” Remus said, hating to admit it. “I’ve never kissed anyone. You know that.”
“Yeah, I suppose you haven’t. Dunno why not.” Sirius fell silent, then a wicked grin spread across his face. “Know what?” he said, leaning forward until his lips brushed Remus’s ear and he had to shut his eyes against the powerful thrust of desire. “Sounds like you need a damn good shag.” And he laughed a low, sexy, wicked laugh. Remus gulped and looked away.
~*~
The damn good shag was not immediately forthcoming, but the evening was satisfactory nonetheless. Remus hovered outside the door for almost five minutes, mulling over his options and trying to fight back some last-second misgivings. He was unhappy about deceiving Oliver about his feelings for Sirius, but at the same time, those feelings (and the uncomfortable practical evidence of them) were becoming unbearable. Not only that, but Sirius was obviously, certifiably straight. He had a girlfriend. Remus had overheard him fucking said girlfriend, and obviously enjoying it. And even if he were gay, there was still no guarantee that Sirius would fancy him. All in all, the safest and easiest course of action was to forget about Sirius in the arms of another, which was why Remus was dithering outside an old classroom, feeling sick due to a combination of nerves and excitement, and with a dull thrum of desire running like an implacable river through it all.
Taking a deep breath, Remus pushed open the door.
He didn’t quite know what he'd expected. Certainly, the encounter had been built up over the course of that afternoon, until Remus wouldn’t have been surprised if Oliver had been starkers and armed with various sinister items to aid them in their depravities. And although Remus was fine about the academic, day-to-day gayness, he’d never been exposed to the real thing, nor had he ever been expected to actually do … stuff. Whatever it was that gay men did, which Remus was still slightly hazy about.
So after his day of tortured imaginings and fearful doubts, Oliver sitting on a battered old sofa, reading a book by firelight, was rather an anticlimax.
“Lupin,” Oliver said, standing up and smoothing down his trousers. “You came.”
“Yup, I came,” Remus said, feeling gauche and foolish.
“And you’ve decided?” Remus heard a slight quaver in Oliver’s voice, and he immediately felt better. It hadn’t occurred to him that Oliver might be nervous too.
He took a step forward. “I’ve decided.”
“Oh,” Oliver said, and he swallowed. Suddenly, an image of Sirius leapt into Remus’s brain, but he angrily forced it away. Sirius had no place here.
“I’ve decided,” Remus repeated, taking another few steps forward.
“Yes?” Oliver was slightly breathless, and his eyes were wide. He took a few steps forward, and they were suddenly very close. Remus looked at Oliver for a moment, steeling himself, and feeling very vertiginous all of a sudden, as if on a tightrope or a precipice. Do I want this? he thought. There is still time to back off. But looking up at Oliver, Remus realised that he did want this. Oliver was not a patch on Sirius, but he was good-looking in his own, very English way. His hair was a curly blond, his eyes shapely and blue, his nose slightly turned up at the end. He was tanned and fit, and his mouth was soft and expressive. Remus found himself staring at that mouth, desire tugging at his stomach and groin. He licked his lips nervously, and Oliver gave a soft moan. His own eyes were fixed on Remus’s face, and Remus felt exposed and scared. Then Oliver took another step forward and kissed him.
Suddenly, Remus didn’t feel scared anymore.
~*~
When Remus went into the bathroom that night, he found Sirius standing in front of the mirror, cleaning his teeth.
“Hiya,” he said quietly, so as not to wake James and Peter, already asleep next door. “You’re up late.”
Sirius looked at him in the mirror, his eyes slightly narrowed. He didn’t answer at once, but spat into the basin.
“So are you,” he replied. His voice was calm, expressionless, but with a hint of steel. “Have fun?” A twist of the mouth, and Remus knew what was coming, recognised the mocking smile as it spread across Sirius’s face.
“Yes,” he said shortly, moving to the basin and reaching for his toothbrush, hip bumping painfully against the porcelain. “You?”
“Lots,” Sirius said, around his toothbrush, then spat again. Moving deliberately, he inspected his teeth, nodded with satisfaction, then rinsed his toothbrush and put it away. It clanged loudly against the metal cup, and Remus couldn’t stop a flinch. Avoiding Sirius’s gaze, feeling the flush creeping up his cheeks, he started to clean his teeth. He was surprised when he didn’t hear Sirius leave, and risked a glance over at the other boy. Sirius was now leaning against the sink, arms crossed across his chest, a challenging glint in his eye.
“I’m fucking her, you know,” he said. Remus didn’t falter in his brushing, but he saw his eyes narrow slightly in the mirror. An agonising silence while he spat; then he said quietly, “I know.”
Sirius looked slightly put out. “Oh.”
Remus looked up and caught Sirius’s gaze in the mirror, and he smiled, but it was a mirthless, challenging smile.
“Fuck her tonight, did you?” he asked, curling his tongue around the words, relishing the rare obscenity and the pink tinge it brought to Sirius’s cheeks.
“Yeah,” Sirius said, but his poise had slipped, and Remus had suddenly regained the upper hand.
“Where?” Remus didn’t want to know, but at the same time, he did.
“Charms classroom,” Sirius said, lifting his chin slightly, daring Remus to disapprove.
“On the desk?”
“Against the wall.”
“Did she come?”
“Twice.”
“You?”
“Twice.”
“Did she go down on you?”
Sirius was definitely blushing by now, and Remus wondered vaguely why he was so calm.
“No,” Sirius said. “Didn’t ask her to.”
“What a gentleman,” Remus sneered.
A pause. Sirius fidgeted. Remus tried to remember to breathe.
“So you’re going out with him.” It wasn’t a question.
“I suppose I am.”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
That startled Remus. Not that Sirius hadn’t told anyone - he’d proved he could keep a secret - but that he had taken that path in the conversation. That was as good as an apology, or at the very least, an olive branch. Fuming at Sirius’s mercurial temper, Remus was inclined to refuse it, but he gave in.
“Thanks,” he murmured, burying his anger for what seemed like the millionth time. “Appreciate it.”
Sirius shrugged. “No problem.”
“I will tell them,” Remus said, in answer to the unspoken question.
“Of course.”
“Just not now.”
“Whenever. It doesn’t bother me.”
And with a bright, mocking smile, Sirius left the bathroom.
~*~
Morning came, and with it no change to Sirius’s bewildering mood. Remus had intended to wait till after lunch before going to see Oliver, but the miasma of Sirius’s forced cheerfulness soon had him running for the portrait hole, muttering something about the library.
Once out in the corridor, however, he realised that he hadn’t quite thought this through. He’d arranged to meet Oliver in that same classroom at two o’clock, but it was ten o’clock now, and he didn’t fancy waiting around for four hours. He could of course actually go to the library, but in the light of the previous evening’s adventures, its attractions had faded a little. Remus wanted skin under his fingers, not dry parchment; lips against his lips, not the end of his quill.
Which meant finding Oliver.
It was then that the problems of inter-house unity really hit home. It was most likely that Oliver was in his common room or his dormitory (a sudden vision of him in bed made Remus’s mouth go dry), and although he knew where the Ravenclaw common room was, he didn’t know the password; nor did he fancy hanging around until someone let him in. And then again, he could be in the prefect’s bathroom (Remus’s mouth went even dryer at the thought), or down at the Quidditch pitch, or in the library or the Herbology greenhouses, or somewhere else entirely. Hogwarts was massive, and looking for one person was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
If only, Remus thought, hooking his satchel more firmly over his shoulder and setting off towards the library, if only there was a way of locating someone in the castle - like the card index in the library, or … or like a map, but for people, not places. It would make it so much easier. And maybe Peter would stop getting lost. Maybe I would, for that matter.
The thought intrigued him, and it was lucky that his feet knew the way to the library, because he wasn’t concentrating at all on where he was walking.
It would help with the Slytherin raids, as well - we’ve never found an effective warning system, and it’s getting harder now we can’t all fit under James’s cloak. If there was some way of knowing exactly where Filch was, it might help. And Peeves, too - he always manages to interfere. But how would it work?
The library successfully reached and all thoughts of Oliver forgotten, Remus found his usual table and scrabbled for parchment.
He wrote PLAN across the top in big letters and underlined it. Underneath, he wrote,
Format? Like card index, coordinates for each person? General locale? Cluedo: Filch in the Great Hall with the packet of Exploding Snap etc. MAP
How? Advanced magic, SboS Grade 7? Some sort of tracking spell, certainly. Map spells? Research wizarding cartography - see Zephyr. Restricted Section! Charms - how to lock charms to receptacle? WHAT CHARMS? Arithmancy? Codes, Hallard’s Golden Rule, J’s Paradox vs. Kel.’s Injunctions. HAS THIS BEEN DONE AT ALL? Check Poverill’s Artifacts. Worst comes to worst - wills. Unplottable charms exist - is there a reverse? MUST BE. Check Hogwarts: A History.
He grabbed another sheet of parchment and titled it “Books to Check”, quickly transferring the authors he’d already thought of, then turned back to his plan.
Architects - plans, link between the concrete and the theoretical, might give some clues.
NOT LIKELY TO BE SIMPLE. One complex spell? Or lots of layers? All charms, or some arithmancy? RUNES.
Battlefields! Check Goblin Rebellions. Did commanders have “live” maps? MUST be some precedent, or at least sthg we can use. Vaults/Gringotts/etc - some sort of monitoring systems? Old PB families? Dark magic… Veraldi’s, perhaps? Ask S. Altho d.m. shld be avoided if at all poss. NO BLOOD.
Dark sensors/blood sensors - something we can use? Magic traces/magic signatures? Time consuming, tho, and labour intensive, to collect six hundred essences.
And it was then that Remus realised quite what an undertaking this would be.
Two problems: he wrote.
1. Building the map. Hogwarts is HUGE. Everywhere will have to be plotted.
2. Tracking everyone. Unless we just stick with Filch and the professors? GHOSTS?
Answer: Get S and J.
~*~
“It’s brilliant, Moony!” Peter exclaimed.
“A bit rough around the edges,” James said, “but there’s real potential there.”
Sirius said nothing, but merely studied Remus’s plan, twirling his quill between his fingers. Remus tried to pretend he wasn’t disappointed.
“What do you think, Sirius?” James prodded, as a minute passed and Sirius was still silent.
“I think,” Sirius said, slowly, “I think it’s going to be a big job. It’s going to be a huge job. But I think that it’s worth doing.”
“Definitely,” James said. He looked over his shoulder at a tiny First Year girl who was sitting too close for comfort. “Only, let’s take it upstairs.”
~*~
“Right, so are we decided that it should be a map?”
“Seems the best idea,” Peter said, shrugging, and Remus and Sirius nodded.
“Good,” James said, and wrote MAP in big letters. “Moony has done some preliminary brainstorming, but I need your input, Sirius - and Peter, of course. Do you have any idea where to start?”
Sirius tapped his quill against his teeth, eyes lowered. Peter wrinkled his nose. Remus tried not to look at Sirius.
“My father,” Sirius began, after some thought, “has a bureau. It has no key, and won’t respond to any unlocking spells, even powerful ones like recludera. It isn’t a password, because passwords can be overheard.”
“Does this have a point, Sirius, or do you just like the sound of your own voice?”
“Shut up, Antler-boy. This is relevant.”
“So it responds to something in him?” Remus suggested. “There’s something that only he can trigger.”
“That’s what I suppose. Now, obviously we’re not interested in locking bureaus. What we’re interested in is that an inanimate object recognised my father, and was so specific that it wouldn’t recognise me or Reg, who are technically of the same blood. That must be a spell we can use.”
“Do you know the spell?”
“Nope. But I’m sure Remus can find it.” He looked at Remus for the first time, and his eyes were hard and challenging. Remus looked back impassively, until Sirius coloured slightly and dropped his eyes again.
“Random - bureau - spell,” James said, tongue between his teeth as he wrote. “Thanks for that, Sirius. Any other suggestions?”
“Well,” said Peter, “there’s no point looking for the practical application of this if we don’t know the theory, right? So I think we should work out exactly what we want to do, and then, how we do it.”
“But what do we want to do?” James asked.
“I thought it could be a way of finding people,” Remus offered. “We need a map that shows exactly where people are in the castle. So if we had a map of this room, it should show us sitting here. And it should show Dumbledore in his office, and Madam Pince behind her desk, and so on.”
“Right,” James said, “so we need to find a way to follow people’s movements, and have it transfer onto the paper.”
“You know,” Peter said thoughtfully, “I was in Botticelli Ransome’s - you know, the art shop in Diagon Alley - and they have this thing where you draw on one bit of parchment, and the lines appear on another, but bigger or smaller, however you want. So I could draw a pig, and set the spell to make it be twice the size, and it’ll copy it twice the size. Do you see what I mean?”
“Eloquently described,” Sirius said with a hint of a sneer. Remus frowned.
“Yes, I see,” James said. “We could use that - it must be some sort of transfer spell.”
“Do you remember Zouch talking about communication charms?” Remus said. “Maybe it’s a similar principle; doing something to one thing, like making it glow, for example, will make other, connected things glow too. That’s what we need. We need someone walking on the actual Hogwarts floor to transfer to the map and be shown there.”
Peter groaned. “It’s fucking impossible.”
“No it’s not,” Sirius said quietly. “We can do this. We just need to be patient. We just need to be clever.”
James smirked. “We can do clever.”
“The question is,” Remus said, “can you do patient?”
next
Prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six
seven | eight | nine
Chapter 9
Title: Ruled by the Moon
Author: Me, nellie_darlin
Disclaimer: Not mine. Jo's.
Pairing/Characters: Remus/Sirius (unrequited so far!)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Genre: Everything! Tis Lupin's Life!
A/N: Many millions of thanks to lyras for the beta-ing, and her endless patience with my vacillating and sometimes shocking writing habits. Feedback is adored.
Summary: Being an account of the life of Remus J Lupin, Esquire, from his first day at Hogwarts to his last on this earth. In many chapters. Also starring Sirius Black, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and the various inhabitants of Hogwarts and the wizarding world.
Teaser: “Lupin! Hey, Lupin!”
Remus, half-way across the entrance hall in the quest for breakfast, stopped and turned. Oliver Lewis was running down the stairs, a piece of paper clutched in his hand.
Chapter 9
The Map is Born
“Lupin! Hey, Lupin!”
Remus, half-way across the entrance hall in the quest for breakfast, stopped and turned. Oliver Lewis was running down the stairs, a piece of paper clutched in his hand.
“McGonagall asked me to give you this,” he said, as he approached. “It’s the new rota for prefect duty.”
Remus flicked a glance at Sirius, who was hovering by him, his eyes narrowed, and he felt a blush rise in his cheeks. “Thanks, Oliver.”
“No problem.” Oliver also glanced at Sirius, an eyebrow raised. Sirius ignored the hint.
“Um, Sirius, I’ll meet you in the Great Hall,” Remus said, his blush deepening.
Sirius stared at Remus for a second, his eyes hard, before turning on his heel and marching off. Remus sagged, feeling weary and depressed.
“So, Lupin,” Oliver said, more quietly, “have you thought a bit about what I said the other night?”
“Yes,” Remus replied. “I’ve thought about it.”
“Well, the offer still stands, if you’re interested.”
Remus chewed his lip, debating, unable to meet Oliver’s eyes. “Oliver, I -” he began, then stopped. “Look, I need a bit longer. Can I - could I get back to you on that? Is there - I mean, could I meet you somewhere?”
Oliver nodded, his smile slightly forced. “You know that old classroom on the seventh floor? The one with all the sofas?” Remus nodded. “Meet me there. After supper.”
“Right.” Remus didn’t meet Oliver’s eyes as he walked away.
“Who was that?” Sirius asked, sharply, when Remus slid into his seat.
“Oliver Lewis,” Remus muttered, piling sausages and fried potatoes onto his plate. “Ravenclaw sixth year. He wanted to give me the new rota.”
“How’s Cleo, Sirius?” James said then, with a leer.
“The same,” Sirius said, shortly, before turning his attention back to Remus. He could feel Sirius’s eyes boring into his face, and wondered if he was blushing again.
Sirius was unpleasant for the rest of breakfast, and Remus felt supremely justified in snapping when Sirius asked, faux-casually, “So, was that all he wanted?” as they left the Great Hall.
“No,” Remus said, angrily, “no, it wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted to ask me out, actually.”
“Ask you out? Like on a date?”
“Are you so surprised?”
That seemed to startle Sirius. “Well, no,” he replied honestly through a mask of sheepishness. “No, it’s not surprising. It was just - ” He gesticulated silently for a moment or two, and then said abruptly, “I need the toilet. I’ll see you in the common room.” Shaking his head, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Remus stunned and fuming in the Entrance Hall.
~*~
Outright apologies from Sirius Black were almost unheard of, but he would often leave one in no doubt of his contrition, without actually saying, “I’m sorry.” Today was such an occasion. Sirius was quietly affectionate and whenever a hint of impatience entered Remus’s voice, Sirius would look at him with his puppy-dog eyes (Oh, how appropriate! Remus thought) and Remus’s anger would recede like the tide. When they were alone again that afternoon, Sirius moved to the window, fidgeting with his hands, before turning back abruptly and sitting down on Remus’s bed so violently that he bounced.
“I think you should go out with him,” Sirius said earnestly. This was a classic Sirius-apology.
Remus slowly lowered his book, searching Sirius’s face for hints of mockery, but there was none to be found. Sirius’s brows were furrowed, his mouth twisting awkwardly, his whole face a picture of sincerity and affection. He was also picking at the eiderdown, teasing out a feather that was poking through the fabric. He didn’t quite meet Remus’s eyes.
“Why?” Remus said, slowly.
“Because he’s good looking. He’s nice. He’s good at Quidditch.”
“Those are good reasons,” Remus replied gravely.
“And I think you fancy him. Do you fancy him?”
Remus blushed, and fought a sudden urge to pick at the eiderdown as well. “I sort of do,” he said. “I’m not sure.”
“Well,” Sirius said, and swallowed. “I mean, do you, erm - you know. Do you feel, erm - stuff?”
“Yeah,” Remus said. “Yeah, I do.”
“Do you get a hard-on?”
Remus stared at Sirius, who shrugged. He dropped his head again, his face boiling, and said, “I have.”
“Oh.” Sirius licked his lips and swallowed again. “What’s it like, then?”
“I don’t actually know,” Remus said, hating to admit it. “I’ve never kissed anyone. You know that.”
“Yeah, I suppose you haven’t. Dunno why not.” Sirius fell silent, then a wicked grin spread across his face. “Know what?” he said, leaning forward until his lips brushed Remus’s ear and he had to shut his eyes against the powerful thrust of desire. “Sounds like you need a damn good shag.” And he laughed a low, sexy, wicked laugh. Remus gulped and looked away.
~*~
The damn good shag was not immediately forthcoming, but the evening was satisfactory nonetheless. Remus hovered outside the door for almost five minutes, mulling over his options and trying to fight back some last-second misgivings. He was unhappy about deceiving Oliver about his feelings for Sirius, but at the same time, those feelings (and the uncomfortable practical evidence of them) were becoming unbearable. Not only that, but Sirius was obviously, certifiably straight. He had a girlfriend. Remus had overheard him fucking said girlfriend, and obviously enjoying it. And even if he were gay, there was still no guarantee that Sirius would fancy him. All in all, the safest and easiest course of action was to forget about Sirius in the arms of another, which was why Remus was dithering outside an old classroom, feeling sick due to a combination of nerves and excitement, and with a dull thrum of desire running like an implacable river through it all.
Taking a deep breath, Remus pushed open the door.
He didn’t quite know what he'd expected. Certainly, the encounter had been built up over the course of that afternoon, until Remus wouldn’t have been surprised if Oliver had been starkers and armed with various sinister items to aid them in their depravities. And although Remus was fine about the academic, day-to-day gayness, he’d never been exposed to the real thing, nor had he ever been expected to actually do … stuff. Whatever it was that gay men did, which Remus was still slightly hazy about.
So after his day of tortured imaginings and fearful doubts, Oliver sitting on a battered old sofa, reading a book by firelight, was rather an anticlimax.
“Lupin,” Oliver said, standing up and smoothing down his trousers. “You came.”
“Yup, I came,” Remus said, feeling gauche and foolish.
“And you’ve decided?” Remus heard a slight quaver in Oliver’s voice, and he immediately felt better. It hadn’t occurred to him that Oliver might be nervous too.
He took a step forward. “I’ve decided.”
“Oh,” Oliver said, and he swallowed. Suddenly, an image of Sirius leapt into Remus’s brain, but he angrily forced it away. Sirius had no place here.
“I’ve decided,” Remus repeated, taking another few steps forward.
“Yes?” Oliver was slightly breathless, and his eyes were wide. He took a few steps forward, and they were suddenly very close. Remus looked at Oliver for a moment, steeling himself, and feeling very vertiginous all of a sudden, as if on a tightrope or a precipice. Do I want this? he thought. There is still time to back off. But looking up at Oliver, Remus realised that he did want this. Oliver was not a patch on Sirius, but he was good-looking in his own, very English way. His hair was a curly blond, his eyes shapely and blue, his nose slightly turned up at the end. He was tanned and fit, and his mouth was soft and expressive. Remus found himself staring at that mouth, desire tugging at his stomach and groin. He licked his lips nervously, and Oliver gave a soft moan. His own eyes were fixed on Remus’s face, and Remus felt exposed and scared. Then Oliver took another step forward and kissed him.
Suddenly, Remus didn’t feel scared anymore.
~*~
When Remus went into the bathroom that night, he found Sirius standing in front of the mirror, cleaning his teeth.
“Hiya,” he said quietly, so as not to wake James and Peter, already asleep next door. “You’re up late.”
Sirius looked at him in the mirror, his eyes slightly narrowed. He didn’t answer at once, but spat into the basin.
“So are you,” he replied. His voice was calm, expressionless, but with a hint of steel. “Have fun?” A twist of the mouth, and Remus knew what was coming, recognised the mocking smile as it spread across Sirius’s face.
“Yes,” he said shortly, moving to the basin and reaching for his toothbrush, hip bumping painfully against the porcelain. “You?”
“Lots,” Sirius said, around his toothbrush, then spat again. Moving deliberately, he inspected his teeth, nodded with satisfaction, then rinsed his toothbrush and put it away. It clanged loudly against the metal cup, and Remus couldn’t stop a flinch. Avoiding Sirius’s gaze, feeling the flush creeping up his cheeks, he started to clean his teeth. He was surprised when he didn’t hear Sirius leave, and risked a glance over at the other boy. Sirius was now leaning against the sink, arms crossed across his chest, a challenging glint in his eye.
“I’m fucking her, you know,” he said. Remus didn’t falter in his brushing, but he saw his eyes narrow slightly in the mirror. An agonising silence while he spat; then he said quietly, “I know.”
Sirius looked slightly put out. “Oh.”
Remus looked up and caught Sirius’s gaze in the mirror, and he smiled, but it was a mirthless, challenging smile.
“Fuck her tonight, did you?” he asked, curling his tongue around the words, relishing the rare obscenity and the pink tinge it brought to Sirius’s cheeks.
“Yeah,” Sirius said, but his poise had slipped, and Remus had suddenly regained the upper hand.
“Where?” Remus didn’t want to know, but at the same time, he did.
“Charms classroom,” Sirius said, lifting his chin slightly, daring Remus to disapprove.
“On the desk?”
“Against the wall.”
“Did she come?”
“Twice.”
“You?”
“Twice.”
“Did she go down on you?”
Sirius was definitely blushing by now, and Remus wondered vaguely why he was so calm.
“No,” Sirius said. “Didn’t ask her to.”
“What a gentleman,” Remus sneered.
A pause. Sirius fidgeted. Remus tried to remember to breathe.
“So you’re going out with him.” It wasn’t a question.
“I suppose I am.”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
That startled Remus. Not that Sirius hadn’t told anyone - he’d proved he could keep a secret - but that he had taken that path in the conversation. That was as good as an apology, or at the very least, an olive branch. Fuming at Sirius’s mercurial temper, Remus was inclined to refuse it, but he gave in.
“Thanks,” he murmured, burying his anger for what seemed like the millionth time. “Appreciate it.”
Sirius shrugged. “No problem.”
“I will tell them,” Remus said, in answer to the unspoken question.
“Of course.”
“Just not now.”
“Whenever. It doesn’t bother me.”
And with a bright, mocking smile, Sirius left the bathroom.
~*~
Morning came, and with it no change to Sirius’s bewildering mood. Remus had intended to wait till after lunch before going to see Oliver, but the miasma of Sirius’s forced cheerfulness soon had him running for the portrait hole, muttering something about the library.
Once out in the corridor, however, he realised that he hadn’t quite thought this through. He’d arranged to meet Oliver in that same classroom at two o’clock, but it was ten o’clock now, and he didn’t fancy waiting around for four hours. He could of course actually go to the library, but in the light of the previous evening’s adventures, its attractions had faded a little. Remus wanted skin under his fingers, not dry parchment; lips against his lips, not the end of his quill.
Which meant finding Oliver.
It was then that the problems of inter-house unity really hit home. It was most likely that Oliver was in his common room or his dormitory (a sudden vision of him in bed made Remus’s mouth go dry), and although he knew where the Ravenclaw common room was, he didn’t know the password; nor did he fancy hanging around until someone let him in. And then again, he could be in the prefect’s bathroom (Remus’s mouth went even dryer at the thought), or down at the Quidditch pitch, or in the library or the Herbology greenhouses, or somewhere else entirely. Hogwarts was massive, and looking for one person was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
If only, Remus thought, hooking his satchel more firmly over his shoulder and setting off towards the library, if only there was a way of locating someone in the castle - like the card index in the library, or … or like a map, but for people, not places. It would make it so much easier. And maybe Peter would stop getting lost. Maybe I would, for that matter.
The thought intrigued him, and it was lucky that his feet knew the way to the library, because he wasn’t concentrating at all on where he was walking.
It would help with the Slytherin raids, as well - we’ve never found an effective warning system, and it’s getting harder now we can’t all fit under James’s cloak. If there was some way of knowing exactly where Filch was, it might help. And Peeves, too - he always manages to interfere. But how would it work?
The library successfully reached and all thoughts of Oliver forgotten, Remus found his usual table and scrabbled for parchment.
He wrote PLAN across the top in big letters and underlined it. Underneath, he wrote,
Format? Like card index, coordinates for each person? General locale? Cluedo: Filch in the Great Hall with the packet of Exploding Snap etc. MAP
How? Advanced magic, SboS Grade 7? Some sort of tracking spell, certainly. Map spells? Research wizarding cartography - see Zephyr. Restricted Section! Charms - how to lock charms to receptacle? WHAT CHARMS? Arithmancy? Codes, Hallard’s Golden Rule, J’s Paradox vs. Kel.’s Injunctions. HAS THIS BEEN DONE AT ALL? Check Poverill’s Artifacts. Worst comes to worst - wills. Unplottable charms exist - is there a reverse? MUST BE. Check Hogwarts: A History.
He grabbed another sheet of parchment and titled it “Books to Check”, quickly transferring the authors he’d already thought of, then turned back to his plan.
Architects - plans, link between the concrete and the theoretical, might give some clues.
NOT LIKELY TO BE SIMPLE. One complex spell? Or lots of layers? All charms, or some arithmancy? RUNES.
Battlefields! Check Goblin Rebellions. Did commanders have “live” maps? MUST be some precedent, or at least sthg we can use. Vaults/Gringotts/etc - some sort of monitoring systems? Old PB families? Dark magic… Veraldi’s, perhaps? Ask S. Altho d.m. shld be avoided if at all poss. NO BLOOD.
Dark sensors/blood sensors - something we can use? Magic traces/magic signatures? Time consuming, tho, and labour intensive, to collect six hundred essences.
And it was then that Remus realised quite what an undertaking this would be.
Two problems: he wrote.
1. Building the map. Hogwarts is HUGE. Everywhere will have to be plotted.
2. Tracking everyone. Unless we just stick with Filch and the professors? GHOSTS?
Answer: Get S and J.
~*~
“It’s brilliant, Moony!” Peter exclaimed.
“A bit rough around the edges,” James said, “but there’s real potential there.”
Sirius said nothing, but merely studied Remus’s plan, twirling his quill between his fingers. Remus tried to pretend he wasn’t disappointed.
“What do you think, Sirius?” James prodded, as a minute passed and Sirius was still silent.
“I think,” Sirius said, slowly, “I think it’s going to be a big job. It’s going to be a huge job. But I think that it’s worth doing.”
“Definitely,” James said. He looked over his shoulder at a tiny First Year girl who was sitting too close for comfort. “Only, let’s take it upstairs.”
~*~
“Right, so are we decided that it should be a map?”
“Seems the best idea,” Peter said, shrugging, and Remus and Sirius nodded.
“Good,” James said, and wrote MAP in big letters. “Moony has done some preliminary brainstorming, but I need your input, Sirius - and Peter, of course. Do you have any idea where to start?”
Sirius tapped his quill against his teeth, eyes lowered. Peter wrinkled his nose. Remus tried not to look at Sirius.
“My father,” Sirius began, after some thought, “has a bureau. It has no key, and won’t respond to any unlocking spells, even powerful ones like recludera. It isn’t a password, because passwords can be overheard.”
“Does this have a point, Sirius, or do you just like the sound of your own voice?”
“Shut up, Antler-boy. This is relevant.”
“So it responds to something in him?” Remus suggested. “There’s something that only he can trigger.”
“That’s what I suppose. Now, obviously we’re not interested in locking bureaus. What we’re interested in is that an inanimate object recognised my father, and was so specific that it wouldn’t recognise me or Reg, who are technically of the same blood. That must be a spell we can use.”
“Do you know the spell?”
“Nope. But I’m sure Remus can find it.” He looked at Remus for the first time, and his eyes were hard and challenging. Remus looked back impassively, until Sirius coloured slightly and dropped his eyes again.
“Random - bureau - spell,” James said, tongue between his teeth as he wrote. “Thanks for that, Sirius. Any other suggestions?”
“Well,” said Peter, “there’s no point looking for the practical application of this if we don’t know the theory, right? So I think we should work out exactly what we want to do, and then, how we do it.”
“But what do we want to do?” James asked.
“I thought it could be a way of finding people,” Remus offered. “We need a map that shows exactly where people are in the castle. So if we had a map of this room, it should show us sitting here. And it should show Dumbledore in his office, and Madam Pince behind her desk, and so on.”
“Right,” James said, “so we need to find a way to follow people’s movements, and have it transfer onto the paper.”
“You know,” Peter said thoughtfully, “I was in Botticelli Ransome’s - you know, the art shop in Diagon Alley - and they have this thing where you draw on one bit of parchment, and the lines appear on another, but bigger or smaller, however you want. So I could draw a pig, and set the spell to make it be twice the size, and it’ll copy it twice the size. Do you see what I mean?”
“Eloquently described,” Sirius said with a hint of a sneer. Remus frowned.
“Yes, I see,” James said. “We could use that - it must be some sort of transfer spell.”
“Do you remember Zouch talking about communication charms?” Remus said. “Maybe it’s a similar principle; doing something to one thing, like making it glow, for example, will make other, connected things glow too. That’s what we need. We need someone walking on the actual Hogwarts floor to transfer to the map and be shown there.”
Peter groaned. “It’s fucking impossible.”
“No it’s not,” Sirius said quietly. “We can do this. We just need to be patient. We just need to be clever.”
James smirked. “We can do clever.”
“The question is,” Remus said, “can you do patient?”
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