Fic: Fumbling, Stopping, and Starting, or What Fools We Mortals Be (Remix)
Title: Fumbling, Stopping, and Starting, or What Fools We Mortals Be (Remix)
Original fic: Fumbling, Stopping, and Starting, or Eight First Times Remus Was Kissed, by sambethe
Summary: Eight kisses over the course of Sirius Black's life.
Characters: Sirius, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Remus, and others; background Sirius/Remus
Word count: 5600
Rating and warnings: A light R for one or two suggestive scenes. A bit of sentimentality.
Notes: For the birthday girl sambethe, whose story is remixed here.
Fumbling, Starting, and Stopping
One: December 1971
Sirius had his first kiss over the winter holidays in 1971, when Mother was having one of her episodes, and Sirius and Regulus had been sent to their uncle's again.
It happened in Bella's bedroom, Bella's and Andromeda's, really, because Sirius and Regulus were sharing Andromeda's. Bella was transfiguring several of Andy's old robes into increasingly elaborate costumes for Cissy and Regulus. The game annoyed Sirius, who always felt like Cissy was intruding on his territory when she played with Regulus and never wanted to admit it.
Cissy was far too old for dressing up in costumes in front of the mirror, Sirius thought. Sirius was too old for costumes himself, and he was twelve. The only one who had an excuse was Regulus, who still slept with a special blanket and wore short trousers and had recently gotten his first set of dress robes for Christmas.
"It's going to be hard to transfigure them back," Sirius had pointed out sullenly, watching Cissy pose in front of the mirror. She and Regulus were dressed in the heavy, plum-colored robes of the Wizengamot. Regulus was so small in his robes that the sleeves brushed his thighs.
"Andy doesn’t need them anymore," Bella said dismissively. She and Andromeda shared an odd, hostile glare.
"Well, you don't," Bella said. "It's true, isn't it?"
"Give Regulus a beard like Dumbledore," Andromeda said instead, and Bella complied. In a moment Regulus had sprouted long white whiskers that skimmed the tops of his shoes. Cissy giggled, and Regulus ducked in front of her so he could see himself in the mirror.
"Good job, Bella," Andy said. "They look just like Dumbledore's."
"Weddings!" Narcissa said, clapping her hands together, and the bewhiskered Regulus beamed.
"No," Andromeda said immediately.
"I think it's a brilliant idea," Bellatrix said, suddenly looking excited. She paused, wand ready, thinking. In a moment Narcissa and Regulus were wearing traditional emerald-green wedding robes, with thick white fur on the collar and the cuffs and elaborate embroidery on the hem. Regulus' whiskers were gone, but now he had a silver scepter he thumped on the ground for effect.
"Beautiful," Narcissa breathed. "Bella, you're amazing. Come here, Regulus, kiss me."
Regulus gave Cissy a bashful kiss on the cheek. Andromeda smiled.
"How about a double wedding," Bella said slyly. "Andromeda? Sirius?"
"Don't, Bella," Andy began, but before she or Sirius could protest, Bella had transfigured the robes there were wearing.
"What's that?" Regulus asked, nose wrinkled. "I've never seen anything like that."
Sirius was wearing a long, lacy white dress--a dress, what was she thinking?--and Andromeda was wearing a black jacket and black trousers and an odd black hat.
"What is this?" Sirius asked angrily. He grabbed his wand, but Andromeda caught his wrist and held him back.
Bella laughed, low and harsh. Cissy frowned.
"Bellatrix," Andromeda said, lips tight. "Don't."
"Let me go," Sirius said struggling against Andromeda' grip. His wand was sparking. "Get this thing off of me."
Bella smiled. "Even his mother thought so, before she went crazy."
"She's not crazy!" Regulus and Sirius said at once.
"Shut up and fix this, Bella," Andy said, gripping Sirius' wrists hard while he wriggled. "Sirius, stop it. You're not helping me."
Bellatrix sighed as if she's been asked to do one too many favors and murmured another incantation. A moment later Andromeda was wearing Sirius' costume and Sirius was wearing Andromeda's.
"Why are you wearing white, Andy?" Narcissa asked curiously. "Are you meant to be dead? I thought we were playing at weddings."
Andromeda glared at Bella. "Fix the bloody robes, Bella. This is getting tiresome."
Bella waved her wand in a long and complicated gesture and murmured another incantation, and then they were wearing emerald green robes like Cissy and Regulus, so thick and heavy Sirius could hardly move. When Andromeda finally let go of his wrists to look at her robes in the mirror, Sirius raised his wand.
Bella already had hers aimed at him. "Don't try it," she said. "You'll be sorry."
"You look handsome, Sirius," Narcissa said, in her most ordinary, comforting voice. "Regulus, you can kiss me again." She leaned over and tapped her cheek. Regulus, on his toes, kissed her chin, and Cissy giggled.
"What about you, Sirius?" Regulus asked.
Sirius rolled his eyes, but Andromeda grasped both of Sirius' hands, then leaned in and gave him a light, sweet-smelling kiss. It wasn't the quick kiss on the cheek he'd expected but a very gentle press of lips against his own, which left Sirius wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling uncomfortable. "Never mind Bella," she whispered as she pulled away.
"Well done," Bella said sarcastically. "There's hope for you, yet. Both of you."
Andromeda silently began transfiguring the costumes back into ordinary black robes and placing them back in the cupboard. Bella dangled a robe just outside of her reach. "I can put them directly in the trunk for you, if you'd like. No need to waste time pretending."
Andromeda sighed. "I hate you sometimes, Bella," she said.
Bella shrugged. "You started it."
Cissy bit her bottom lip.
Finally Sirius had had enough. "Come on, Regulus, let's go downstairs," he said. "This family's even crazier than ours." Regulus glanced surreptitiously at Narcissa. Sirius sighed and nodded at her. "Come on, Cissy. You, too."
Neither Andromeda nor Bella said anything as they left. Sirius had the feeling that Andromeda had let things get out of hand, that Bella had somehow got the best of both of them, but he couldn't explain why.
Two days later Andromeda was gone, taken away by a Muggle-born with a funny name, and Bellatrix was crying in the bathroom, and everything made a little more sense.
*
A few weeks later he was back at Hogwarts, sitting on Remus' bed with James and Peter--Remus' because he never complained about the crumbs or the dirt or the stray inky quills--and having a very stupid, very girly conversation about kissing.
Sirius had not given this topic much thought, but he was still vaguely surprised to discover that James had not kissed anyone. Peter hadn't either, but that was to be expected. Remus had been kissed by a girl who tasted like apples. At age six. Sirius was not sure this counted, but James seemed satisfied with the story.
"What about you, Sirius?" James asked, his expression curious, his eyes blinking rapidly behind his glasses. "Have you kissed anyone?"
Sirius squirmed with embarrassment, remembering the white dress and Bella's harsh laugh and Andromeda gripping his wrists, preventing him from hexing Bellatrix the way she deserved to be hexed.
"No kissing," Sirius said reluctantly after a long silence. He hated lying. "Not yet." Then, because that sounded stupid and everything was going wrong with this conversation anyway, he put an end to it. "Who needs girls, anyway? I'm off to the kitchens." He slid off the bed and fumbled for his wand.
James, who thought with his stomach, stood up immediately. Peter, who did anything James did, stood up, too. Remus was still sitting on the bed, looking at him curiously.
"Coming, Remus?" Sirius asked more coldly than he'd intended. "Or are you waiting for another apple girl to entertain you?"
Remus frowned and stood up, too. Sirius felt grimly proud of himself.
"That's better," Sirius said. "Girls are the only ones who talk about kissing, anyway."
"Why are we still talking at all?" James asked. It was a good question. All four were out the door in a second.
That night Sirius woke up sticky and panting after a dream about wrestling with James. His first thought was that he hated Bellatrix for always knowing more than he did. His second thought was that he wanted to talk to Andromeda, but he didn't know where she was.
He sent an owl in the morning, but either Andromeda wasn't speaking to him anymore, either, or she never received it. That was fine. Sirius was good at figuring out things on his own.
Two: April 1974
His first proper kiss came during the April Hogsmeade weekend during their Fourth Year.
His name was Aidan Harkiss, and he was a Ravenclaw two years ahead of Sirius, a handsome boy whose face was hidden by a pair of old fashioned glasses and a perpetual worried expression. Sirius wouldn't have noticed him except for the fact that one night he and Harkiss were clearing out an abandoned classroom together under Filch's supervision, and he'd caught Harkiss looking at his arse. Just like that, not even pretending.
At first Sirius was bewildered, puzzled that this dull, well-behaved boy would ever let Sirius catch him looking. Then he thought that Harkiss couldn't be that dull if he'd wound up in detention. Actually, he was quite fit. Then he realized that if he didn't stop thinking so much he would miss out on something he'd never dreamed would happen, finding someone who might be interested in him. He took a deep breath.
"Harkiss," he said. Harkiss looked at him silently, making eye contact for a moment too long.
Sirius swallowed. "Saturday," he said quietly. "On the Quidditch pitch, after lunch."
Harkiss nodded.
"Silence!" Filch yelled from the other side of the room. "If I catch you planning any more trouble you'll be cleaning the third floor bathrooms. With your tongues."
He and Harkiss exchanged a smile.
Now, Sirius had not wasted his three and a half years as James Potter's closest friend. The next few days were spent in a flurry of planning. James heard that Gwynth Davies wouldn't say no if he asked her to Hogmeade on Saturday. Gwynth didn't say no, but she had a friend, Eloise Miller, who fancied Remus, if Remus didn't already have Hogsmeade weekend plans, perhaps they could all go together? Of course he was interested, the romantic sod. Sirius was extremely proud of this arrangement.
On Saturday morning he gave Peter a case of the Hippogriff Hiccups--not a bad case, just enough to turn his face green and ensure that he spent the next few hours holding his breath under the covers.
Harkiss was waiting for him on the Quidditch pitch. He was wearing aftershave; Sirius could smell it as soon as he drew near.
"Hi," Sirius said casually.
Harkiss smiled. "Hi," he replied. "Want to walk to the lake?"
Sirius thought he'd never met anyone quite so brilliant.
They took a quiet, overgrown path through the woods that Sirius had never seen before. Harkiss alternated between telling him about the organizational dynamics of the Gobstones Club and smiling at him shyly.
Halfway to the lake Sirius decided they were wasting precious minutes before Peter came to find them, and, with a rush of adrenaline, turned to Harkiss and pinned him against a tree.
"Oh!" Harkiss said, caught between Sirius' arms. Sirius grinned.
He didn't know quite what to do, but the basic principle seemed simple enough. You pressed your mouth against the other person's and stuck in your tongue. If the other person didn't push you away--James hadn't gotten past this part yet--you could keep kissing and touch other places if you wanted.
He stood on his toes because Harkiss was a few inches taller, leaned in, pressed his mouth against Harkiss', and stuck his tongue in.
Harkiss slipped both arms around Sirius' waist.
Yes. Sirius was giddy with the excitement of it all.
It was hard to know quite what to do once you had your tongue in, but Sirius was open to learning as he went along. He swirled his tongue around Harkiss' and shifted his head to the right so their noses weren't pressed together so awkwardly. Harkiss ran his hands over Sirius' back and then threaded one through Sirius' hair. Sirius opened his mouth a little wider, and then Harkiss did too, so wide Sirius could hear his jaw popping.
Or was that--
He pulled back abruptly and peered into the forest. A pair of yellow feline eyes were on him, unblinking.
"Shit!" he yelled, and Harkiss clapped his hands over his ears.
"What?" Harkiss asked, turning around to see what Sirius had seen. "Shit," he said laughing. "Filch. Run!"
They both ran as fast as they could back to the castle. Only after they'd reached the entrance hall did it occur to Sirius that they hadn't been breaking any rules. Harkiss turned to him, panting and flushed and grinning. "Next Saturday?" he asked.
Sirius grinned back. "Sure."
High with excitement, he found the green-tinged Peter in the dormitory and dragged him down to Hogsmeade. They made faces at James and Gwynth through the windows at the Three Broomsticks and spied on Remus and Eloise, who were hidden in the forest just outside Hogsmeade, kissing.
Sirius and Peter watched for a moment, but the fact of the matter was that other people kissing didn't interest Sirius very much. As soon as he was sure Remus didn't seem to know anything that Sirius didn't know, he reached down and grabbed a handful of twigs.
Peter's eyes opened wide. "What are you doing?" he mouthed silently.
Sirius smirked and broke all the twigs in a single snap. Eloise jumped, and Remus glanced up, startled. Sirius winked at him.
"Come on," he said to Peter. "We've done all we can do here."
Peter hiccupped in response, and they returned to the castle.
Three: July 1976
Kissing was an art, Sirius decided. Most blokes didn't seem to fancy kissing, and a few refused to do it altogether, but Sirius thought it was essential. There were all too few words before the kind of awkward hand job you could get at the far end of Knockturn Alley, and Sirius preferred to know where he stood before his trousers came down. Not that bad things happened often, mind you, just that Sirius didn't plan to be there when they did. Kissing was about establishing who was in charge--him, of course--and about what the pace would be--his, of course--and about honesty. You could learn a lot about a man by kissing him. Sirius wouldn't touch a man's prick if he hadn't first had a chance to look him in the eye and taste his lips.
Sirius was always the one who initiated the kiss and always the one to bring it to a close, and he paid attention to the way the bloke responded while they kissed. Pressing lips together meant Do you really want this? Pushing his tongue inside of someone else's mouth meant Don't pretend it's not you here, doing this. Sucking gently on another man's lip or tongue meant I'm thinking about moving on to the next step, and if you're not ready, you'd better say so now. Biting ever so gently meant Follow my lead. Breaking away slowly meant That was nice, and I wouldn't mind doing it again.
Kissing worked well for him.
The first man he trusted to suck him off was a middle-aged, ginger-haired man who'd smiled at him in Gringotts while they were waiting in the queue. They were in an alcove in Knockturn Alley within a few minutes, and the man surprised Sirius by holding his hand for a moment before they kissed. No one had ever done that before.
When Sirius broke away slowly--that was nice, and I wouldn't mind doing it again--the man smiled again, that same gentle, self-deprecating smile that had drawn Sirius to him in the first place.
He pulled back, took a deep breath, placed his hands on the man's shoulders, and pressed down, hoping his meaning would be clear. The man looked at him kindly over the tops of his spectacles and began to undo Sirius' trousers.
"Don't be nervous," he said quietly.
Sirius froze.
"I'm not," he said, a bit too defiantly, even to his own ears.
"No?" the man asked absently, still fumbling with Sirius' trousers. "Okay."
The words were kind, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice that made Sirius burn with shame. He managed to stay still and enjoy the event because he wasn't stupid, and he'd been waiting ages for this, and the man clearly knew what he was doing, but there was something truly awful in being told not to be nervous. Sirius Black was never nervous. Afterward, when the man told him that he almost always made deposits at Gringotts at teatime on Thursdays, Sirius silently resolved never to run into him again. Blokes who held your hand were probably a little suspect, generally.
That was the thing about kissing, Sirius decided. It helped you avoid the blokes who didn't really want to be there in the first place, and it told you which ones wanted to be there too much.
Four: September 1980
The thing with Remus was unexpected. He didn't know how it had happened--Lily's pregnancy, the baby, Peter's new job--but they'd fallen into a pattern of Thursday night dinners at Remus' flat, just the two of them. It didn't mean much at first, just lager and food and a game of chess and some company, but one day shortly after Harry was born Sirius realized that he was looking forward to Thursday nights, planning meals to cook, and remembering things he wanted to tell Remus at odd hours during the week. Then, one Thursday evening in September, shortly after he'd arrived at Remus' flat, groceries in hand, he caught Remus looking at him. Not just looking at him, but looking. That way, intensely.
He cleared his throat. "I'll, er, set up the chessboard?" he asked. His head was spinning, and he needed a chance to sort this out.
Remus took the bag of groceries from him. "Sounds good," he said in a light, casual voice. "I'll be in the kitchen."
The kitchen, right. Because they were doing to have dinner. Which was something they did every Thursday. Except perhaps not this one.
He waited a few minutes for good measure and then walked to the doorway. Remus was at the counter cutting vegetables into typically fussy, regular pieces, his face flushed a bit by the heat of the oven. He didn't look any different. Sirius took a deep breath and tried to reassure himself he hadn't misinterpreted things earlier.
He walked up behind Remus and placed his left hand on Remus's left hip. Then he peered over Remus' right shoulder, pretending he had a sudden interest in the status of the aubergines. Close but not too close. Nothing worthy of a hex or a punch or even a disapproving frown. Just a little more touching than usual.
Remus turned and gave him a small smile.
Yes.
Bloody hell. Why hadn't they figured this out earlier?
He wrapped his arms around Remus and plunged his tongue into Remus' mouth with all the grace and deliberation and subtlety of that first time with Harkiss. He thought he could feel Remus chest shake with suppressed laughter, but he didn't care.
The rush that came with kissing Remus was different from the rush that came with kissing other blokes, in large part because it was just so much more complicated. He ran his tongue over Remus', which meant This is brilliant, don't you think? and then ran it along the top of his mouth, which meant I could get used to this, and then he let Remus suck on his lower lip for the longest time, which meant I'd like to if you'd like to. Maybe now? Maybe later? After a round of chess? We could just keep doing this for a while, too, it's nice. Perhaps you wouldn't mind if I moved my arm like this….right, perfect. Keep going.
Perhaps Remus didn't understand all that, but Sirius thought he did, and that was what mattered.
Five: October 1981
Of course it didn't last.
At first he didn't even notice, because toward the end of the war he was fighting with Lily and Peter, too, great, noisy, shouting matches that went on for hours while James tried to mediate. Remus didn't shout back, that wasn't his style, but he'd developed a knack for cutting comments and well-placed silences that drove Sirius crazy and made him yell even more.
James wasn't around for these arguments, because James wasn't talking to Remus any longer. Sirius did not know what to make of this and hadn't worked up enough courage to ask.
One night, exhausted and lonely and not quite finished with the task he promised Dumbledore he'd do, Sirius dropped in at some awful club in some awful Muggle city in the Midlands he hoped he'd never visit again.
Aidan Harkiss was there at a small table in the corner. As mild-mannered as ever, with a more flattering pair of glasses, looking tired.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, sitting down next to him, eying Harkiss cautiously.
"The same thing you are, I imagine," Harkiss said dryly, lifting his drink. "Drowning my sorrows."
"No, here, in the city," Sirius said.
Harkiss shook his head. "Can't say."
"Oh," Sirius replied, thinking about that. "Me, too."
They sat in silence with their drinks.
"Seeing anyone?" Harkiss asked finally.
Sirius shrugged. "Remember Lupin? My year, Gryffindor?" he asked. "Sometimes." That was fairly honest. "And you?"
Harkiss bit his lip. "You should keep an eye on Remus," he said suddenly. He stared intensely at his drink and ran a finger along the rim of his glass, over and over.
"Should I?" Sirius replied, heart suddenly pounding. It was one thing to think these things, another to hear them spoken out loud by someone else.
Harkiss nodded, eyes serious.
"I'll remember that," Sirius said. He had to talk to James, soon. Things were falling apart. "But in the meantime..." Impulsively, he shifted so that their knees were touching. Harkiss went very still and then smiled at him.
Harkiss had no objections, then. Brilliant.
Fuck you, Remus Lupin, he thought angrily, and Sirius leaned forward and kissed Harkiss with every ounce of energy he could muster.
Had he not been in such a foul mood when he left Harkiss' flat the next morning, he might have noticed a familiar frayed Gryffindor scarf near the door and drawn very different conclusions about Remus' untrustworthiness. Things might have been different.
Or maybe not.
Six: June 1994
Then there was the Kiss, that awful moment when Sirius thought it was all over, before Harry and James appeared to save him.
It was mind-numbingly terrifying to come so close to losing a soul, to see a Dementor at such close range and feel that frigid, rattling breath on your face. What shocked Sirius, however, was how overwhelming it was to find that his soul hadn't been taken, after all. He was at a dingy little Irish pub in the Canary Islands when it finally hit him. He was still here with the living. Filthy, burned scarlet by the sun, stinking of the dead rats he'd caught earlier that morning. In a quiet, empty bar with only the proprietor for company while the noontime sun blazed outside.
For some reason, this made his eyes well up with tears he didn't have the energy to fight back.
"They tried to take my soul," he explained to the proprietor, a plump, aging blond women burned almost as badly as Sirius. "Though my mouth. 'S called the Kiss. I can't go back."
He'd had only two drinks, but he was quite sure he sounded incoherent.
She glanced at him appraisingly. "I wouldn't get so close to you, myself," she said frankly. "The smell alone would scare me away."
"You have no idea," Sirius said softly into the bottom of his drink, thinking of this morning's rats.
The woman pursed her lips and refilled his glass.
"Then again, that's what I said thirty years ago, when Alphard Black came through here," she said. "On the run from his soul-sucking family, he said."
"What?" Sirius asked abruptly, looking up from his drink. The woman was smiling at him now, dimples showing. She circled around the bar to sit down next to him.
"I recognized you the moment you walked in, dear," she said. "His son?"
"His nephew," Sirius replied wonderingly. "You knew him?"
She snorted. "Oh, yes, I knew him, back when he was just as dirty as you are now, and twice as mean," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "But a bath and some sunshine did him a world of good. By the time he left, I might have given my heart to him, if he'd asked. Good-looking fellow. Heart of gold."
Sirius nodded, wide-eyed.
The woman fussed in her pockets and found a ring of keys. "The smallest one is for the bathhouse, out back," she said. "The sooner you get cleaned up, the sooner you'll feel ready to face your family again."
"It wasn't my family--" he began, but the woman cut him off.
"Whoever's sucking your soul, I'm sure they're missing you. Run along, then. Towels are on the top shelf. There are some old clothes there, too. The drink will still be here when you get back."
Sirius was in no position to refuse the offer. "Thanks," he said weakly. "You've no idea."
By the time he returned, the worst of the midday heat was gone, and the pub was crowded with holiday makers. He sank down into a chair, clean and well-clothed, feeling human for the first time in as long as he could remember.
"Much better," the proprietor said when she caught sight of him. "A strange bird just arrived with a letter for you. Your uncle used to get those, too. Odd family, the Blacks."
She handed Sirius the letter. It was from Dumbledore, a single line advising him to stay where he was for now.
The proprietor waited until he'd finished reading the letter. "Everything alright?" she asked quietly.
Sirius nodded.
"Good," she replied, kissing him on the top of his wet head and handing him a tea towel. "I could use some help this afternoon."
Seven: June 1995
After the Triwizard Tournament he showed up at Remus' house unannounced. That was his way. Remus greeted him, wand in hand, white-knuckled and wary. That was his way. Nice to know some things never changed. Sirius smiled to himself.
"Padfoot," Remus whispered. So solemn. Was it that hard to see him again?
"You were expecting someone else?" Sirius asked, lifting an eyebrow at the wand. He'd meant it as a joke, but now that he'd said it, he was a little afraid of the answer.
They stared at each other for moment, uncertain which way this encounter would go.
"You need a haircut," Remus said finally, smiling wryly and lowering his wand.
Yes. Oh, how he loved this cautious old thing. Who wasn't looking half bad, come to think of it. A bit grey, but far better than him, he was sure.
"Ta, mate," he said lightly. "Been a bit busy." He was twitching with energy. Do something, Remus, Sirius thought. Do something, or he'd take charge, and they'd be right back where they started.
Remus crossed the room and wrapped Sirius in the kind of fierce hug he'd almost forgotten about, the kind James' mother used to give him, back when James' mother hugged him. Then Remus pulled Sirius toward him firmly, and Sirius closed his eyes and caught his breath in anticipation.
There was a split second when nothing happened, when Sirius's stomach clenched and his blood ran cold.
Then he felt Remus' mouth press against his own, warm and welcome. He grasped Remus's robes as if he were drowning and kissed back, biting, sucking, pressing, frantic with happiness.
Yes, he thought. Yes.
Eight: Months and years don't matter that much, in the end.
Sirius had no idea what he'd expected of the afterlife, but it was not Bellatrix and Andromeda in their nightclothes, whispering to each other like teenagers, curled up with the duvet in a room that looked much like Bellatrix's old bedroom.
It was all very hazy, but Sirius was starting to remember. There had been a long, silent period of imprisonment behind the curtain, and then, after some scuffling and shouting and an urgent exchange with Harry, he was standing in a bedroom he'd almost forgotten, free at last.
"Hello, Sirius," Bella said lazily.
"You killed me," he said uncertainly, puzzled by the nightclothes and girlish whispering and the gaunt, aged look of Bella's face and the overwhelming sense of peace that he felt with this strange situation.
"I was killed myself," Bella said. "A year or two after you. Stray curse."
Oddly, Sirius had the sense he already knew that.
He looked blankly at Bellatrix and then Andromeda, who shrugged. "Things don't matter so much here," she said kindly. "You'll understand soon."
Andromeda. He frowned, trying to recall why Andromeda and her daughter were relevant right now, why he'd just been thinking of her.
"Tonks--" he said, trying desperately to remember.
"Crazy pink-haired halfblood," Bella said, smiling like a sphinx. "The werewolf doesn't know what he's in for, I'm sure."
Andromeda laughed a rich, deep, throaty laugh. "Your boyfriend is kissing my baby daughter," she reminded him. "Ted is irate, simply furious. Funny how these things turn out."
It was, indeed, surprisingly funny. Sirius felt the corner of his mouth twitching as memories of events he'd missed washed over him. Freedom was like being alive, Sirius thought, shaking his head in confusion. Except that you knew everything, and you loved everyone anyway.
"Come here, Sirius," Andromeda said, gesturing at the bed where she was sitting. Sirius sat down beside her, and Andromeda pulled him closer and closer, wrapping her arms around him. He closed his eyes. "He still loves you, don't worry," she said softly.
"Andromeda--" Sirius said. They were so close he could see the flecks of green in her eyes.
"Go ahead," Andromeda said quietly, and because it seemed like the right thing to do, Sirius took a deep breath, leaned toward her, and kissed her on the lips. It wasn't much of a kiss, very hesitant and very brief. He could taste salt on his own lips and left hers wet, too. She smiled in return.
"I remember that," she said, wiping his cheeks with the sleeves of her nightgown. "Your first one, was it?"
Sirius blinked in surprise. "That's why--"
"Hush," Andromeda said, cutting him off. "I prefer to think it's because you always liked me best. Welcome."
"I missed you, Andy," Sirius said, finding his voice at last.
Andromeda patted him on the knee. "I missed you, too. I have a lot to tell you. But first, go find your friends. They've been asking about you," she said, nudging him off the edge of the bed.
"Regulus wants to see you, too," Bellatrix added. "He's still waiting for Cissy, but he talks about you constantly."
He stood up, hesitating, disbelieving, confused. "He does?"
"Everyone wants to see you, you mangy cur," Bella said fondly. "Everyone, believe me. Wasn't I always a step ahead of you?"
Before Sirius could realize what was happening, Bellatrix had stood up next to him and kissed him on the cheek.
Andromeda winked at him. "The number of times you were kissed in that life will pale next to the number of times you'll be kissed here," she said wisely.
Bella laughed. "Try to avoid your mother, though," she said. "She scolds while she kisses."
"And Severus," Andy said. "He still hasn't washed his hair."
"And Dumbledore," Bella added. "His beard tickles."
Bella and Andromeda exchanged a secret, amused glance. Sirius felt a laugh welling up at the back of his own throat. He hadn't felt that in years.
"Where do I go?" he asked.
"It's confusing at first," Bellatrix said. "When you get outside, turn right and then left, and try to imagine the kind of place you'd find person you want to see next. By the time you get the hang of it, your skinny godson will be here, too, and the werewolf, and Andy's freakish daughter."
"Hush," Andy said, smiling. "You can't wait until Nymphadora joins us."
"I can't," Bellatrix agreed. "I missed out on teasing her the first time."
They were whispering again when Sirius closed the door behind him quietly and set out to find his brother and his friends.
Epilogue
By the time Remus arrived, Sirius had been to Lily and James' garden, and the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts, and the overgrown path to the lake, and the atrium at the Ministry of Magic, and the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, and his favorite table at Three Broomsticks. He had been kissed more times than he could count. Each kiss was sweet and gentle and loving, except Harry's, which was wet and wildly overenthusiastic, and Snivellus', which was scratchy and dry and slightly unwilling. Oddly enough, Sirius enjoyed it anyway.
"Hello, Sirius," Remus said quietly. They were in Remus' old flat, by the kitchen sink. Well, not really, but Sirius knew how these things worked by now.
He looked much as Sirius remembered him, a bit greyer and thinner, but less worried.
Sirius leaned back against the kitchen counter and closed his eyes. He waited patiently, heart calm, breathing regularly. It was an extraordinary feeling, not to be afraid. Eventually he felt Remus' warm, dry hands take his own. Remus' kiss was slow and thoughtful, and for once Sirius just stood still, concentrating on the taste of Remus' mouth and the rough scrape of his lips and the warmth of his breath.
"You taste like apple," Sirius said after they had pulled apart.
"You kiss like a girl," Remus said, laughing. "When did that happen?"
"We don't have to do it again if you don't want," Sirius said, raising an eyebrow and pulling away slightly.
"No, no, never mind," Remus said hastily. "Come back here."
And Sirius did. Over and over, until he'd lost count.
Original fic: Fumbling, Stopping, and Starting, or Eight First Times Remus Was Kissed, by sambethe
Summary: Eight kisses over the course of Sirius Black's life.
Characters: Sirius, Bellatrix, Andromeda, Remus, and others; background Sirius/Remus
Word count: 5600
Rating and warnings: A light R for one or two suggestive scenes. A bit of sentimentality.
Notes: For the birthday girl sambethe, whose story is remixed here.
Fumbling, Starting, and Stopping
One: December 1971
Sirius had his first kiss over the winter holidays in 1971, when Mother was having one of her episodes, and Sirius and Regulus had been sent to their uncle's again.
It happened in Bella's bedroom, Bella's and Andromeda's, really, because Sirius and Regulus were sharing Andromeda's. Bella was transfiguring several of Andy's old robes into increasingly elaborate costumes for Cissy and Regulus. The game annoyed Sirius, who always felt like Cissy was intruding on his territory when she played with Regulus and never wanted to admit it.
Cissy was far too old for dressing up in costumes in front of the mirror, Sirius thought. Sirius was too old for costumes himself, and he was twelve. The only one who had an excuse was Regulus, who still slept with a special blanket and wore short trousers and had recently gotten his first set of dress robes for Christmas.
"It's going to be hard to transfigure them back," Sirius had pointed out sullenly, watching Cissy pose in front of the mirror. She and Regulus were dressed in the heavy, plum-colored robes of the Wizengamot. Regulus was so small in his robes that the sleeves brushed his thighs.
"Andy doesn’t need them anymore," Bella said dismissively. She and Andromeda shared an odd, hostile glare.
"Well, you don't," Bella said. "It's true, isn't it?"
"Give Regulus a beard like Dumbledore," Andromeda said instead, and Bella complied. In a moment Regulus had sprouted long white whiskers that skimmed the tops of his shoes. Cissy giggled, and Regulus ducked in front of her so he could see himself in the mirror.
"Good job, Bella," Andy said. "They look just like Dumbledore's."
"Weddings!" Narcissa said, clapping her hands together, and the bewhiskered Regulus beamed.
"No," Andromeda said immediately.
"I think it's a brilliant idea," Bellatrix said, suddenly looking excited. She paused, wand ready, thinking. In a moment Narcissa and Regulus were wearing traditional emerald-green wedding robes, with thick white fur on the collar and the cuffs and elaborate embroidery on the hem. Regulus' whiskers were gone, but now he had a silver scepter he thumped on the ground for effect.
"Beautiful," Narcissa breathed. "Bella, you're amazing. Come here, Regulus, kiss me."
Regulus gave Cissy a bashful kiss on the cheek. Andromeda smiled.
"How about a double wedding," Bella said slyly. "Andromeda? Sirius?"
"Don't, Bella," Andy began, but before she or Sirius could protest, Bella had transfigured the robes there were wearing.
"What's that?" Regulus asked, nose wrinkled. "I've never seen anything like that."
Sirius was wearing a long, lacy white dress--a dress, what was she thinking?--and Andromeda was wearing a black jacket and black trousers and an odd black hat.
"What is this?" Sirius asked angrily. He grabbed his wand, but Andromeda caught his wrist and held him back.
Bella laughed, low and harsh. Cissy frowned.
"Bellatrix," Andromeda said, lips tight. "Don't."
"Let me go," Sirius said struggling against Andromeda' grip. His wand was sparking. "Get this thing off of me."
Bella smiled. "Even his mother thought so, before she went crazy."
"She's not crazy!" Regulus and Sirius said at once.
"Shut up and fix this, Bella," Andy said, gripping Sirius' wrists hard while he wriggled. "Sirius, stop it. You're not helping me."
Bellatrix sighed as if she's been asked to do one too many favors and murmured another incantation. A moment later Andromeda was wearing Sirius' costume and Sirius was wearing Andromeda's.
"Why are you wearing white, Andy?" Narcissa asked curiously. "Are you meant to be dead? I thought we were playing at weddings."
Andromeda glared at Bella. "Fix the bloody robes, Bella. This is getting tiresome."
Bella waved her wand in a long and complicated gesture and murmured another incantation, and then they were wearing emerald green robes like Cissy and Regulus, so thick and heavy Sirius could hardly move. When Andromeda finally let go of his wrists to look at her robes in the mirror, Sirius raised his wand.
Bella already had hers aimed at him. "Don't try it," she said. "You'll be sorry."
"You look handsome, Sirius," Narcissa said, in her most ordinary, comforting voice. "Regulus, you can kiss me again." She leaned over and tapped her cheek. Regulus, on his toes, kissed her chin, and Cissy giggled.
"What about you, Sirius?" Regulus asked.
Sirius rolled his eyes, but Andromeda grasped both of Sirius' hands, then leaned in and gave him a light, sweet-smelling kiss. It wasn't the quick kiss on the cheek he'd expected but a very gentle press of lips against his own, which left Sirius wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling uncomfortable. "Never mind Bella," she whispered as she pulled away.
"Well done," Bella said sarcastically. "There's hope for you, yet. Both of you."
Andromeda silently began transfiguring the costumes back into ordinary black robes and placing them back in the cupboard. Bella dangled a robe just outside of her reach. "I can put them directly in the trunk for you, if you'd like. No need to waste time pretending."
Andromeda sighed. "I hate you sometimes, Bella," she said.
Bella shrugged. "You started it."
Cissy bit her bottom lip.
Finally Sirius had had enough. "Come on, Regulus, let's go downstairs," he said. "This family's even crazier than ours." Regulus glanced surreptitiously at Narcissa. Sirius sighed and nodded at her. "Come on, Cissy. You, too."
Neither Andromeda nor Bella said anything as they left. Sirius had the feeling that Andromeda had let things get out of hand, that Bella had somehow got the best of both of them, but he couldn't explain why.
Two days later Andromeda was gone, taken away by a Muggle-born with a funny name, and Bellatrix was crying in the bathroom, and everything made a little more sense.
*
A few weeks later he was back at Hogwarts, sitting on Remus' bed with James and Peter--Remus' because he never complained about the crumbs or the dirt or the stray inky quills--and having a very stupid, very girly conversation about kissing.
Sirius had not given this topic much thought, but he was still vaguely surprised to discover that James had not kissed anyone. Peter hadn't either, but that was to be expected. Remus had been kissed by a girl who tasted like apples. At age six. Sirius was not sure this counted, but James seemed satisfied with the story.
"What about you, Sirius?" James asked, his expression curious, his eyes blinking rapidly behind his glasses. "Have you kissed anyone?"
Sirius squirmed with embarrassment, remembering the white dress and Bella's harsh laugh and Andromeda gripping his wrists, preventing him from hexing Bellatrix the way she deserved to be hexed.
"No kissing," Sirius said reluctantly after a long silence. He hated lying. "Not yet." Then, because that sounded stupid and everything was going wrong with this conversation anyway, he put an end to it. "Who needs girls, anyway? I'm off to the kitchens." He slid off the bed and fumbled for his wand.
James, who thought with his stomach, stood up immediately. Peter, who did anything James did, stood up, too. Remus was still sitting on the bed, looking at him curiously.
"Coming, Remus?" Sirius asked more coldly than he'd intended. "Or are you waiting for another apple girl to entertain you?"
Remus frowned and stood up, too. Sirius felt grimly proud of himself.
"That's better," Sirius said. "Girls are the only ones who talk about kissing, anyway."
"Why are we still talking at all?" James asked. It was a good question. All four were out the door in a second.
That night Sirius woke up sticky and panting after a dream about wrestling with James. His first thought was that he hated Bellatrix for always knowing more than he did. His second thought was that he wanted to talk to Andromeda, but he didn't know where she was.
He sent an owl in the morning, but either Andromeda wasn't speaking to him anymore, either, or she never received it. That was fine. Sirius was good at figuring out things on his own.
Two: April 1974
His first proper kiss came during the April Hogsmeade weekend during their Fourth Year.
His name was Aidan Harkiss, and he was a Ravenclaw two years ahead of Sirius, a handsome boy whose face was hidden by a pair of old fashioned glasses and a perpetual worried expression. Sirius wouldn't have noticed him except for the fact that one night he and Harkiss were clearing out an abandoned classroom together under Filch's supervision, and he'd caught Harkiss looking at his arse. Just like that, not even pretending.
At first Sirius was bewildered, puzzled that this dull, well-behaved boy would ever let Sirius catch him looking. Then he thought that Harkiss couldn't be that dull if he'd wound up in detention. Actually, he was quite fit. Then he realized that if he didn't stop thinking so much he would miss out on something he'd never dreamed would happen, finding someone who might be interested in him. He took a deep breath.
"Harkiss," he said. Harkiss looked at him silently, making eye contact for a moment too long.
Sirius swallowed. "Saturday," he said quietly. "On the Quidditch pitch, after lunch."
Harkiss nodded.
"Silence!" Filch yelled from the other side of the room. "If I catch you planning any more trouble you'll be cleaning the third floor bathrooms. With your tongues."
He and Harkiss exchanged a smile.
Now, Sirius had not wasted his three and a half years as James Potter's closest friend. The next few days were spent in a flurry of planning. James heard that Gwynth Davies wouldn't say no if he asked her to Hogmeade on Saturday. Gwynth didn't say no, but she had a friend, Eloise Miller, who fancied Remus, if Remus didn't already have Hogsmeade weekend plans, perhaps they could all go together? Of course he was interested, the romantic sod. Sirius was extremely proud of this arrangement.
On Saturday morning he gave Peter a case of the Hippogriff Hiccups--not a bad case, just enough to turn his face green and ensure that he spent the next few hours holding his breath under the covers.
Harkiss was waiting for him on the Quidditch pitch. He was wearing aftershave; Sirius could smell it as soon as he drew near.
"Hi," Sirius said casually.
Harkiss smiled. "Hi," he replied. "Want to walk to the lake?"
Sirius thought he'd never met anyone quite so brilliant.
They took a quiet, overgrown path through the woods that Sirius had never seen before. Harkiss alternated between telling him about the organizational dynamics of the Gobstones Club and smiling at him shyly.
Halfway to the lake Sirius decided they were wasting precious minutes before Peter came to find them, and, with a rush of adrenaline, turned to Harkiss and pinned him against a tree.
"Oh!" Harkiss said, caught between Sirius' arms. Sirius grinned.
He didn't know quite what to do, but the basic principle seemed simple enough. You pressed your mouth against the other person's and stuck in your tongue. If the other person didn't push you away--James hadn't gotten past this part yet--you could keep kissing and touch other places if you wanted.
He stood on his toes because Harkiss was a few inches taller, leaned in, pressed his mouth against Harkiss', and stuck his tongue in.
Harkiss slipped both arms around Sirius' waist.
Yes. Sirius was giddy with the excitement of it all.
It was hard to know quite what to do once you had your tongue in, but Sirius was open to learning as he went along. He swirled his tongue around Harkiss' and shifted his head to the right so their noses weren't pressed together so awkwardly. Harkiss ran his hands over Sirius' back and then threaded one through Sirius' hair. Sirius opened his mouth a little wider, and then Harkiss did too, so wide Sirius could hear his jaw popping.
Or was that--
He pulled back abruptly and peered into the forest. A pair of yellow feline eyes were on him, unblinking.
"Shit!" he yelled, and Harkiss clapped his hands over his ears.
"What?" Harkiss asked, turning around to see what Sirius had seen. "Shit," he said laughing. "Filch. Run!"
They both ran as fast as they could back to the castle. Only after they'd reached the entrance hall did it occur to Sirius that they hadn't been breaking any rules. Harkiss turned to him, panting and flushed and grinning. "Next Saturday?" he asked.
Sirius grinned back. "Sure."
High with excitement, he found the green-tinged Peter in the dormitory and dragged him down to Hogsmeade. They made faces at James and Gwynth through the windows at the Three Broomsticks and spied on Remus and Eloise, who were hidden in the forest just outside Hogsmeade, kissing.
Sirius and Peter watched for a moment, but the fact of the matter was that other people kissing didn't interest Sirius very much. As soon as he was sure Remus didn't seem to know anything that Sirius didn't know, he reached down and grabbed a handful of twigs.
Peter's eyes opened wide. "What are you doing?" he mouthed silently.
Sirius smirked and broke all the twigs in a single snap. Eloise jumped, and Remus glanced up, startled. Sirius winked at him.
"Come on," he said to Peter. "We've done all we can do here."
Peter hiccupped in response, and they returned to the castle.
Three: July 1976
Kissing was an art, Sirius decided. Most blokes didn't seem to fancy kissing, and a few refused to do it altogether, but Sirius thought it was essential. There were all too few words before the kind of awkward hand job you could get at the far end of Knockturn Alley, and Sirius preferred to know where he stood before his trousers came down. Not that bad things happened often, mind you, just that Sirius didn't plan to be there when they did. Kissing was about establishing who was in charge--him, of course--and about what the pace would be--his, of course--and about honesty. You could learn a lot about a man by kissing him. Sirius wouldn't touch a man's prick if he hadn't first had a chance to look him in the eye and taste his lips.
Sirius was always the one who initiated the kiss and always the one to bring it to a close, and he paid attention to the way the bloke responded while they kissed. Pressing lips together meant Do you really want this? Pushing his tongue inside of someone else's mouth meant Don't pretend it's not you here, doing this. Sucking gently on another man's lip or tongue meant I'm thinking about moving on to the next step, and if you're not ready, you'd better say so now. Biting ever so gently meant Follow my lead. Breaking away slowly meant That was nice, and I wouldn't mind doing it again.
Kissing worked well for him.
The first man he trusted to suck him off was a middle-aged, ginger-haired man who'd smiled at him in Gringotts while they were waiting in the queue. They were in an alcove in Knockturn Alley within a few minutes, and the man surprised Sirius by holding his hand for a moment before they kissed. No one had ever done that before.
When Sirius broke away slowly--that was nice, and I wouldn't mind doing it again--the man smiled again, that same gentle, self-deprecating smile that had drawn Sirius to him in the first place.
He pulled back, took a deep breath, placed his hands on the man's shoulders, and pressed down, hoping his meaning would be clear. The man looked at him kindly over the tops of his spectacles and began to undo Sirius' trousers.
"Don't be nervous," he said quietly.
Sirius froze.
"I'm not," he said, a bit too defiantly, even to his own ears.
"No?" the man asked absently, still fumbling with Sirius' trousers. "Okay."
The words were kind, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice that made Sirius burn with shame. He managed to stay still and enjoy the event because he wasn't stupid, and he'd been waiting ages for this, and the man clearly knew what he was doing, but there was something truly awful in being told not to be nervous. Sirius Black was never nervous. Afterward, when the man told him that he almost always made deposits at Gringotts at teatime on Thursdays, Sirius silently resolved never to run into him again. Blokes who held your hand were probably a little suspect, generally.
That was the thing about kissing, Sirius decided. It helped you avoid the blokes who didn't really want to be there in the first place, and it told you which ones wanted to be there too much.
Four: September 1980
The thing with Remus was unexpected. He didn't know how it had happened--Lily's pregnancy, the baby, Peter's new job--but they'd fallen into a pattern of Thursday night dinners at Remus' flat, just the two of them. It didn't mean much at first, just lager and food and a game of chess and some company, but one day shortly after Harry was born Sirius realized that he was looking forward to Thursday nights, planning meals to cook, and remembering things he wanted to tell Remus at odd hours during the week. Then, one Thursday evening in September, shortly after he'd arrived at Remus' flat, groceries in hand, he caught Remus looking at him. Not just looking at him, but looking. That way, intensely.
He cleared his throat. "I'll, er, set up the chessboard?" he asked. His head was spinning, and he needed a chance to sort this out.
Remus took the bag of groceries from him. "Sounds good," he said in a light, casual voice. "I'll be in the kitchen."
The kitchen, right. Because they were doing to have dinner. Which was something they did every Thursday. Except perhaps not this one.
He waited a few minutes for good measure and then walked to the doorway. Remus was at the counter cutting vegetables into typically fussy, regular pieces, his face flushed a bit by the heat of the oven. He didn't look any different. Sirius took a deep breath and tried to reassure himself he hadn't misinterpreted things earlier.
He walked up behind Remus and placed his left hand on Remus's left hip. Then he peered over Remus' right shoulder, pretending he had a sudden interest in the status of the aubergines. Close but not too close. Nothing worthy of a hex or a punch or even a disapproving frown. Just a little more touching than usual.
Remus turned and gave him a small smile.
Yes.
Bloody hell. Why hadn't they figured this out earlier?
He wrapped his arms around Remus and plunged his tongue into Remus' mouth with all the grace and deliberation and subtlety of that first time with Harkiss. He thought he could feel Remus chest shake with suppressed laughter, but he didn't care.
The rush that came with kissing Remus was different from the rush that came with kissing other blokes, in large part because it was just so much more complicated. He ran his tongue over Remus', which meant This is brilliant, don't you think? and then ran it along the top of his mouth, which meant I could get used to this, and then he let Remus suck on his lower lip for the longest time, which meant I'd like to if you'd like to. Maybe now? Maybe later? After a round of chess? We could just keep doing this for a while, too, it's nice. Perhaps you wouldn't mind if I moved my arm like this….right, perfect. Keep going.
Perhaps Remus didn't understand all that, but Sirius thought he did, and that was what mattered.
Five: October 1981
Of course it didn't last.
At first he didn't even notice, because toward the end of the war he was fighting with Lily and Peter, too, great, noisy, shouting matches that went on for hours while James tried to mediate. Remus didn't shout back, that wasn't his style, but he'd developed a knack for cutting comments and well-placed silences that drove Sirius crazy and made him yell even more.
James wasn't around for these arguments, because James wasn't talking to Remus any longer. Sirius did not know what to make of this and hadn't worked up enough courage to ask.
One night, exhausted and lonely and not quite finished with the task he promised Dumbledore he'd do, Sirius dropped in at some awful club in some awful Muggle city in the Midlands he hoped he'd never visit again.
Aidan Harkiss was there at a small table in the corner. As mild-mannered as ever, with a more flattering pair of glasses, looking tired.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, sitting down next to him, eying Harkiss cautiously.
"The same thing you are, I imagine," Harkiss said dryly, lifting his drink. "Drowning my sorrows."
"No, here, in the city," Sirius said.
Harkiss shook his head. "Can't say."
"Oh," Sirius replied, thinking about that. "Me, too."
They sat in silence with their drinks.
"Seeing anyone?" Harkiss asked finally.
Sirius shrugged. "Remember Lupin? My year, Gryffindor?" he asked. "Sometimes." That was fairly honest. "And you?"
Harkiss bit his lip. "You should keep an eye on Remus," he said suddenly. He stared intensely at his drink and ran a finger along the rim of his glass, over and over.
"Should I?" Sirius replied, heart suddenly pounding. It was one thing to think these things, another to hear them spoken out loud by someone else.
Harkiss nodded, eyes serious.
"I'll remember that," Sirius said. He had to talk to James, soon. Things were falling apart. "But in the meantime..." Impulsively, he shifted so that their knees were touching. Harkiss went very still and then smiled at him.
Harkiss had no objections, then. Brilliant.
Fuck you, Remus Lupin, he thought angrily, and Sirius leaned forward and kissed Harkiss with every ounce of energy he could muster.
Had he not been in such a foul mood when he left Harkiss' flat the next morning, he might have noticed a familiar frayed Gryffindor scarf near the door and drawn very different conclusions about Remus' untrustworthiness. Things might have been different.
Or maybe not.
Six: June 1994
Then there was the Kiss, that awful moment when Sirius thought it was all over, before Harry and James appeared to save him.
It was mind-numbingly terrifying to come so close to losing a soul, to see a Dementor at such close range and feel that frigid, rattling breath on your face. What shocked Sirius, however, was how overwhelming it was to find that his soul hadn't been taken, after all. He was at a dingy little Irish pub in the Canary Islands when it finally hit him. He was still here with the living. Filthy, burned scarlet by the sun, stinking of the dead rats he'd caught earlier that morning. In a quiet, empty bar with only the proprietor for company while the noontime sun blazed outside.
For some reason, this made his eyes well up with tears he didn't have the energy to fight back.
"They tried to take my soul," he explained to the proprietor, a plump, aging blond women burned almost as badly as Sirius. "Though my mouth. 'S called the Kiss. I can't go back."
He'd had only two drinks, but he was quite sure he sounded incoherent.
She glanced at him appraisingly. "I wouldn't get so close to you, myself," she said frankly. "The smell alone would scare me away."
"You have no idea," Sirius said softly into the bottom of his drink, thinking of this morning's rats.
The woman pursed her lips and refilled his glass.
"Then again, that's what I said thirty years ago, when Alphard Black came through here," she said. "On the run from his soul-sucking family, he said."
"What?" Sirius asked abruptly, looking up from his drink. The woman was smiling at him now, dimples showing. She circled around the bar to sit down next to him.
"I recognized you the moment you walked in, dear," she said. "His son?"
"His nephew," Sirius replied wonderingly. "You knew him?"
She snorted. "Oh, yes, I knew him, back when he was just as dirty as you are now, and twice as mean," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. "But a bath and some sunshine did him a world of good. By the time he left, I might have given my heart to him, if he'd asked. Good-looking fellow. Heart of gold."
Sirius nodded, wide-eyed.
The woman fussed in her pockets and found a ring of keys. "The smallest one is for the bathhouse, out back," she said. "The sooner you get cleaned up, the sooner you'll feel ready to face your family again."
"It wasn't my family--" he began, but the woman cut him off.
"Whoever's sucking your soul, I'm sure they're missing you. Run along, then. Towels are on the top shelf. There are some old clothes there, too. The drink will still be here when you get back."
Sirius was in no position to refuse the offer. "Thanks," he said weakly. "You've no idea."
By the time he returned, the worst of the midday heat was gone, and the pub was crowded with holiday makers. He sank down into a chair, clean and well-clothed, feeling human for the first time in as long as he could remember.
"Much better," the proprietor said when she caught sight of him. "A strange bird just arrived with a letter for you. Your uncle used to get those, too. Odd family, the Blacks."
She handed Sirius the letter. It was from Dumbledore, a single line advising him to stay where he was for now.
The proprietor waited until he'd finished reading the letter. "Everything alright?" she asked quietly.
Sirius nodded.
"Good," she replied, kissing him on the top of his wet head and handing him a tea towel. "I could use some help this afternoon."
Seven: June 1995
After the Triwizard Tournament he showed up at Remus' house unannounced. That was his way. Remus greeted him, wand in hand, white-knuckled and wary. That was his way. Nice to know some things never changed. Sirius smiled to himself.
"Padfoot," Remus whispered. So solemn. Was it that hard to see him again?
"You were expecting someone else?" Sirius asked, lifting an eyebrow at the wand. He'd meant it as a joke, but now that he'd said it, he was a little afraid of the answer.
They stared at each other for moment, uncertain which way this encounter would go.
"You need a haircut," Remus said finally, smiling wryly and lowering his wand.
Yes. Oh, how he loved this cautious old thing. Who wasn't looking half bad, come to think of it. A bit grey, but far better than him, he was sure.
"Ta, mate," he said lightly. "Been a bit busy." He was twitching with energy. Do something, Remus, Sirius thought. Do something, or he'd take charge, and they'd be right back where they started.
Remus crossed the room and wrapped Sirius in the kind of fierce hug he'd almost forgotten about, the kind James' mother used to give him, back when James' mother hugged him. Then Remus pulled Sirius toward him firmly, and Sirius closed his eyes and caught his breath in anticipation.
There was a split second when nothing happened, when Sirius's stomach clenched and his blood ran cold.
Then he felt Remus' mouth press against his own, warm and welcome. He grasped Remus's robes as if he were drowning and kissed back, biting, sucking, pressing, frantic with happiness.
Yes, he thought. Yes.
Eight: Months and years don't matter that much, in the end.
Sirius had no idea what he'd expected of the afterlife, but it was not Bellatrix and Andromeda in their nightclothes, whispering to each other like teenagers, curled up with the duvet in a room that looked much like Bellatrix's old bedroom.
It was all very hazy, but Sirius was starting to remember. There had been a long, silent period of imprisonment behind the curtain, and then, after some scuffling and shouting and an urgent exchange with Harry, he was standing in a bedroom he'd almost forgotten, free at last.
"Hello, Sirius," Bella said lazily.
"You killed me," he said uncertainly, puzzled by the nightclothes and girlish whispering and the gaunt, aged look of Bella's face and the overwhelming sense of peace that he felt with this strange situation.
"I was killed myself," Bella said. "A year or two after you. Stray curse."
Oddly, Sirius had the sense he already knew that.
He looked blankly at Bellatrix and then Andromeda, who shrugged. "Things don't matter so much here," she said kindly. "You'll understand soon."
Andromeda. He frowned, trying to recall why Andromeda and her daughter were relevant right now, why he'd just been thinking of her.
"Tonks--" he said, trying desperately to remember.
"Crazy pink-haired halfblood," Bella said, smiling like a sphinx. "The werewolf doesn't know what he's in for, I'm sure."
Andromeda laughed a rich, deep, throaty laugh. "Your boyfriend is kissing my baby daughter," she reminded him. "Ted is irate, simply furious. Funny how these things turn out."
It was, indeed, surprisingly funny. Sirius felt the corner of his mouth twitching as memories of events he'd missed washed over him. Freedom was like being alive, Sirius thought, shaking his head in confusion. Except that you knew everything, and you loved everyone anyway.
"Come here, Sirius," Andromeda said, gesturing at the bed where she was sitting. Sirius sat down beside her, and Andromeda pulled him closer and closer, wrapping her arms around him. He closed his eyes. "He still loves you, don't worry," she said softly.
"Andromeda--" Sirius said. They were so close he could see the flecks of green in her eyes.
"Go ahead," Andromeda said quietly, and because it seemed like the right thing to do, Sirius took a deep breath, leaned toward her, and kissed her on the lips. It wasn't much of a kiss, very hesitant and very brief. He could taste salt on his own lips and left hers wet, too. She smiled in return.
"I remember that," she said, wiping his cheeks with the sleeves of her nightgown. "Your first one, was it?"
Sirius blinked in surprise. "That's why--"
"Hush," Andromeda said, cutting him off. "I prefer to think it's because you always liked me best. Welcome."
"I missed you, Andy," Sirius said, finding his voice at last.
Andromeda patted him on the knee. "I missed you, too. I have a lot to tell you. But first, go find your friends. They've been asking about you," she said, nudging him off the edge of the bed.
"Regulus wants to see you, too," Bellatrix added. "He's still waiting for Cissy, but he talks about you constantly."
He stood up, hesitating, disbelieving, confused. "He does?"
"Everyone wants to see you, you mangy cur," Bella said fondly. "Everyone, believe me. Wasn't I always a step ahead of you?"
Before Sirius could realize what was happening, Bellatrix had stood up next to him and kissed him on the cheek.
Andromeda winked at him. "The number of times you were kissed in that life will pale next to the number of times you'll be kissed here," she said wisely.
Bella laughed. "Try to avoid your mother, though," she said. "She scolds while she kisses."
"And Severus," Andy said. "He still hasn't washed his hair."
"And Dumbledore," Bella added. "His beard tickles."
Bella and Andromeda exchanged a secret, amused glance. Sirius felt a laugh welling up at the back of his own throat. He hadn't felt that in years.
"Where do I go?" he asked.
"It's confusing at first," Bellatrix said. "When you get outside, turn right and then left, and try to imagine the kind of place you'd find person you want to see next. By the time you get the hang of it, your skinny godson will be here, too, and the werewolf, and Andy's freakish daughter."
"Hush," Andy said, smiling. "You can't wait until Nymphadora joins us."
"I can't," Bellatrix agreed. "I missed out on teasing her the first time."
They were whispering again when Sirius closed the door behind him quietly and set out to find his brother and his friends.
Epilogue
By the time Remus arrived, Sirius had been to Lily and James' garden, and the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts, and the overgrown path to the lake, and the atrium at the Ministry of Magic, and the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, and his favorite table at Three Broomsticks. He had been kissed more times than he could count. Each kiss was sweet and gentle and loving, except Harry's, which was wet and wildly overenthusiastic, and Snivellus', which was scratchy and dry and slightly unwilling. Oddly enough, Sirius enjoyed it anyway.
"Hello, Sirius," Remus said quietly. They were in Remus' old flat, by the kitchen sink. Well, not really, but Sirius knew how these things worked by now.
He looked much as Sirius remembered him, a bit greyer and thinner, but less worried.
Sirius leaned back against the kitchen counter and closed his eyes. He waited patiently, heart calm, breathing regularly. It was an extraordinary feeling, not to be afraid. Eventually he felt Remus' warm, dry hands take his own. Remus' kiss was slow and thoughtful, and for once Sirius just stood still, concentrating on the taste of Remus' mouth and the rough scrape of his lips and the warmth of his breath.
"You taste like apple," Sirius said after they had pulled apart.
"You kiss like a girl," Remus said, laughing. "When did that happen?"
"We don't have to do it again if you don't want," Sirius said, raising an eyebrow and pulling away slightly.
"No, no, never mind," Remus said hastily. "Come back here."
And Sirius did. Over and over, until he'd lost count.