“Hey, Pads, I-“
James’ hand flies up to cover his mouth as he takes in the sight of them. Sirius has to make a physical effort not to smirk; honestly, the look on James’ face is pure comedy. He wiggles closer to Remus as the cold air from the window James cracked reaches them. Remus is as warm as always, and Sirius isn’t wearing a shirt.
He doesn’t really like it, if he’s being honest (but he never is when it comes to these kinds of things). He doesn’t mind tight, cropped shirts; he actually loves them most of the time, but the minute the shirt comes off, all the good feelings go away. Sirius doesn’t like looking at himself naked, but he likes the feeling of his skin pressed against Remus’ enough to ignore it most of the time.
And Remus likes how Sirius looks without a shirt on. Sirius can tell; he notices how Remus’ breathing changes when Sirius’ shirt gets hitched up or how his cheeks turn red when Sirius is changing, and he likes it. He likes knowing he’s wanted, knowing he can do these things to Remus without even really doing anything at all, just by being there.
Sirius knows he’s attractive; he always has; it’s pretty much his one saving grace most of the time, but the reminders are still enjoyable, so as long as Remus is shirtless too, Sirius will pull his own off. Remus doesn’t like being shirtless much either; something stupid about being insecure because of his scars, which makes absolutely no sense to Sirius because Remus’ scars are attractive as f*ck, but that’s besides the point. The point is that Remus doesn’t like anyone seeing him naked and Sirius doesn’t like being naked but it’s fine when they’re naked together and actually Sirius should probably stop thinking about nakedness and sex with James standing right in front of him. This problem wouldn’t be one if James would just go away, so Sirius decides to help the process along. Sirius is very smart when it comes to things like these.
“What’s up, Prongs?” Sirius asks. “If it’s anything to do with Quidditch, the answer is no, go away.”
The answer is probably no, go away anyway, but Sirius is giving him the benefit of the doubt because he’s James and Sirius will always give James the benefit of the doubt.
James seems to shake himself out of his moment of shock. Finally. There’s only so long it can go on before Sirius stops finding it funny and starts being a little scared. There’s always the possibility he’s thrown off by how utterly breathtaking Remus is shirtless, but Sirius will have to be very disgruntled if that’s the case because Remus is Sirius’ boyfriend, and besides, James already has a girlfriend. Even though Lily would’ve probably already dumped James for Remus if Remus wasn’t gay, so she probably wouldn’t be mad if James ran off with Remus.
Sirius, on the other hand, would be very mad for a very long time. Forever, probably, so it’s very good that James is done staring and is back to looking at Sirius. Rather sheepishly, actually, which isn’t a good sign.
“Well…the thing is...”
He trails off. Sirius snorts. James pouts.
“Away,” Sirius tells him, because he made a promise and Sirius keeps his promises except well actually but anyway, the point is that James should really go away now. “Leave me be. Go bother Peter.”
“He hexed me. And it’s cold and I want company.”
Sirius rolls his eyes, privately thinking that Peter must be right about rats being very smart. Hexing James sounds like an excellent idea. If only he could remember where he left his wand... “Exactly. It’s cold. Moony is warm. I refuse to leave this bed. This is the first time I’ve slept in my own bed in months, Prongs. Let me enjoy it.”
“There was nothing preventing you from sleeping in it before,” James points out, like an idiot, because has he not noticed that Remus isn’t wearing a shirt? Does he just think Sirius is as much of an idiot as he obviously is? “And what happened to your adventurous spirit?”
“It froze to death. And yes, there was, I cursed it to bite me so Moony would let me sleep with him.”
Sirius had been extremely proud of himself for that plan. He still is. There was the small problem of not having copied the counter-curse down or the slightly larger problem of not having remembered the title of the book he’d found said curse in, but he and Remus had spent a lovely afternoon together in the library, looking for the book, so it’d been all right after all.
They hadn’t actually ever found the book. They’d started snogging after about half an hour when Sirius realised the only other people in the library were Regulus and his two creepy friends, Crouch and Rosier. He’d spied on them for a few minutes because libraries were boring and it was basically his job to spy on Reg, and he watched as Regulus got increasingly annoyed with the two of them goofing off and stormed off. Crouch and Rosier had promptly abandoned their tower of books and jumped on each other, at which point Sirius had decided they were also geniuses, and snogging was another wonderful idea. Remus had ended up agreeing, and when Sirius made a halfhearted attempt at going back to searching because he hadn’t wanted to stretch boundaries and force Remus into sharing a bed every night, Remus had huffed.
“I don’t see why you need a bed,” he’d said. “Mine works perfectly well.”
“You know, you have a point,” Sirius had remarked before kissing Remus again, and he’d slept in Remus’ bed ever since, which was obviously lovely but he did miss his own bed a little, so here they were. The curse had worn off after a few days, (Sirius wasn’t great with curses), but he’d conveniently forgotten to check on it and since Remus had never once made any sort of attempt to sort it out again, they remained together.
James claps a hand over his mouth again, but this time to stifle his laughter. “Merlin, Padfoot,” he finally wheezes out. “You could’ve just asked.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius sniffs. Deer aren’t nearly as smart as rats, it seems. “Now leave me be. How is it even this cold? It’s May.”
“You’re naked,” James points out, which no, Sirius isn’t, not completely, but he finds it strangely comforting how James thinks this and still doesn’t care. How James is fine keeping up a conversation with him even if he’s naked in his boyfriend’s arms. James said he didn’t care when Sirius confessed to everything, and here it is: proof.
There’s been plenty of proof over the last month or so since they told James and Peter, and it gives Sirius a new little bit of joy every time James calls Remus Sirius’ boyfriend or Peter calls Remus over when Sirius is being dramatic to tell him Sirius is his problem. Every time they remind him they know, they know, and they don’t care.
Sirius is happy.
“I’m wearing trousers,” Sirius says. “It shouldn’t be this cold. How early is it?”
James does not meet his eyes. Sirius sighs.
“If it’s before five, close the curtains.”
James does not move.
“If it is five, close the curtains.”
James does not move.
“If it’s six, close the curtains.”
James hesitates.
“If the first number is a six, that means it’s six.”
James huffs and closes the curtains. Sirius rolls over and buries himself into his boyfriend’s chest. He knows Remus is awake because he can feel Remus relax against Sirius and he can tell Remus’ breathing is too fast for him not to be conscious. Sirius also knows that if Remus isn’t pretending, it means he doesn’t really want to talk right now, he just wants to be. So Sirius pretends Remus is still sleeping and he wraps his arms around his Moony and wills himself to fall back asleep. He listens to the sounds of James moving around andeventually giving up and climbing back in bed.
As he finally begins to drift off, Remus shifts and Sirius feels him press a light kiss to Sirius’ forehead. It still gives him a tingly feeling, knowing Remus probably isn’t even sure if Sirius is awake. (Possibly? Sirius knows the wolf gives him better senses, but to what extent he doesn’t know.) He’s just kissing Sirius because he wants to. Because he likes to kiss Sirius for absolutely no reason other than a whim. He loves Sirius.
(No, Sirius is never going to stop repeating that. Remus Lupin is his boyfriend and they love each other. That’s never going to stop being the best thing ever.)
They’ve got a month left of school, they’re in love, and they’re happy.
Sirius is happy.
Finally.
So, the thing is, Sirius lied.
(Not about loving Remus. Nothing about loving Remus will ever be a lie.)
Sirius is not happy.
(That was the lie. The bit about being happy. In case that wasn’t clear, but it probably was. Anyway. Where were they?)
Sirius is having a proper panic, actually. It’s been going on for about two weeks now, and Remus still hasn’t noticed, which is probably because Sirius’ coping mechanisms all involve activities that leave Remus extremely distracted. There may be multiple reasons behind this. This is not relevant.
No, the relevant bit is Mary Macdonald.
Specifically, Mary Macdonald, one of the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s Beaters since her fifth year. The Quidditch team James captains ruthlessly.
About two weeks ago, James tried to get up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory to find Mary and discuss tactics with her because Peter had become so hopelessly confused that James decided he needed a new target, someone who actually knew how to play Quidditch. (Someone whose brain would not be in danger of melting.)
This was when Sirius learned something very interesting about Hogwarts, which is this:
Boys can’t go in the girls’ dormitories.
James barely made it two steps before the stairs dissolved into a slide, and he ended up lying on his back on the common room floor. Sirius laughed, of course, and Remus rubbed his forehead and asked how James expected that to end because he knows that boys can’t get in the girls’ dorms; everyone knows that, and is Quidditch rotting James’ brain, and should Remus be concerned? Sirius laughed and squeezed Remus’ hand because they were holding hands as they huddled together on the couch, so it wouldn’t be as obvious. Sirius hoped Remus assumed it was out of amusem*nt, instead of confusion.
Because no, actually, Sirius didn’t know that.
Because Sirius can get up the girls’ stairs. And has. Multiple times.
(Aside from the initial and still ongoing crisis, it had admittedly been nice to finally solve the mystery of why Mary had acted so confused every time Sirius came to her dorm. Sirius had wondered why she thought it was so astonishing. She’d seen Sirius walk up stairs before; nothing about the situation had been complicated.)
Of course, Sirius then proceeded to do exactly what anyone else in that situation would do, which is wait until the other Marauders were all asleep, carefully slip out of Remus’ bed, and sneak downstairs and make sure the common room was empty before casting a cushioning charm on the floor in front of the girls’ stairs (just in case) and stepping onto said stairs.
Where nothing proceeded to happen.
Absolutely nothing.
Sirius then sat down on said solid, unmoving, very not-slide-like stairs and began the panic that is still going strong at this very moment, despite being in Remus’ arms, despite being all warm and cosy, and despite literally everything else being absolutely wonderful.
It’s extremely annoying.
Sirius hates herself sometimes, but she’s learned not to say that out loud after she accidentally blurted it out in a rant to James in their fifth year that wasn’t actually about her parents, Regulus, or any of the things she mentioned. It was entirely about Remus, but James didn’t know she was gay then, and she wasn’t about to tell him, so she made up some other things to be upset about because crying in James’ arms is very lovely when she’s upset, and it helps in a way nothing else can. It’s even better than crying on Remus, which isn’t nice at all because she doesn’t want Remus to see her when her face is all puffy and red and leaking tears and snot. She’s not an ugly crier. She’s a hideous one. There’s no way around it.
(She’s only seen Remus cry twice, once when she... well, when she f*cked up, and once when his mum died. He looks so lovely when he’s sobbing; she simultaneously wants to shrivel up and die while still being there for him to cling to for as long as he needs.)
No, if she’s in Remus’ arms, she wants to look absolutely gorgeous. Anything less, no, she’ll go to James. He’s seen her at her lowest, and he loves her anyway, and she doesn’t expect that to be true of more than one person. It’s a miracle it’s true of James, she won’t try her luck. Remus doesn’t need to see her cry. Remus doesn’t need to see her when she’s anything short of perfect.
(She’s embarrassingly in love, yes. It’s pathetic. She knows. She’s used to it by now.)
The point is she hates existing sometimes, but not all of the time, and now everything is giving her a dreadful feeling and she can’t do a single thing without worrying it’s wrong. After she finally managed to get off the stairs that night she went back to the boys’ dorm and rubbed all of her nail polish off. She hasn’t worn any since, or switched her piercings, or much of anything. She’d take them out, she wants to, they feel like they’re burning holes in her skin, but Remus has already asked about the lack of nail polish, and if she gets rid of her piercings, she doubts she’ll be able to get it past him. He says he likes it when she’s expressive, and when he says that word, it makes her feel dizzy. She can’t tell if that’s good or bad.
She hates it all anyway. She keeps her rings because her fingers feel naked without them, but the only other jewellery she lets herself wear is her necklace with the moon charm for Remus and the friendship bracelet James gave her in their second year. (She’s magically expanded it a few times. Whatever Remus says, her wrists are not the same size as they were when she was twelve.)
It’s true she also hates being without all of it, and it makes her a little sick sometimes, but every time she goes to reach for the eyeliner or the eyeshadow palette she stole from Marlene a few months ago, she thinks of the stairs and Remus’ laughing face and knows she won’t be able to use it without feeling like a spotlight is on her all day, and that’s the last thing she needs.
She just wants to hide here forever, in her bed with her boyfriend, her lovely, shirtless, warm boyfriend. She isn’t sure where James and Peter are now; presumably they went to breakfast. She doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s light outside.
Sirius gets up after a few minutes of consciousness to pull on one of Remus’ sweaters because she keeps glancing down at herself and everything feels off and she knows she won’t be able to sleep again unless she fixes it. The sweater doesn’t really work, but it’s big and shapeless and smells of Moony, which is already enough to make it amazing. She clambers back in the bed, slipping under the covers and pressing her back against Remus. He shifts to let her back into his arms, though she isn’t entirely sure he’s awake or not. It’s nice. This in-between part.
If she lies very still and focuses enough, she can imagine herself as an observer of this scene, as a nameless, bodiless apparition. From that viewpoint, from that angle, they look perfect. Remus Lupin, all long limbs and tanned skin and freckles, covered in scars that just make him look more attractive. And in his arms, Sirius Black, Hogwarts’ resident heartbreaker. Shoulder-length dark hair, as long as he can let it grow before it crosses the invisible line. Before it stops being cool and punk and starts making him look like a girl.
He’s not a very masculine-looking person, all things considered. Not much muscle, and he’s thin enough that you might think he has curves if you don’t look too closely.
(Sirius doesn’t really like to eat much. It makes him feel sick in an odd way. He gets hungry but food doesn’t make him feel better so he doesn’t bother most of the time. Sometimes when he’s elected to go down to the kitchens for food in the middle of the night, he has to stop in a corridor and calm himself down before he can keep going. Sometimes he just needs to put the platter down and walk away for a little bit because the smell makes him nauseous if it’s the wrong type of food.)
If he had longer hair, he could probably pass for a girl. Sometimes. If he wanted to. Not if he pulled it back in the wrong way, but if he did it right, or let it loose, or maybe braided it...
Anyway, there are reasons why Sirius keeps their hair short and there are reasons why Sirius can’t ever bring themself to cut it too short. All of these reasons are equally important.
They tried to tell James about it once, but he didn’t even know they were gay then, so it didn’t really go anywhere. Sirius was still trying to get everyone used to their nail polish at that point.
(Sirius honestly does not know much about being punk rock, or whatever he calls himself, but he understands enough to know it means he can dress a little different if he gives it a different name, and that’s good enough.)
“Hey,” Remus whispers. “You okay? Your heartbeat’s really fast.”
Every time Remus says that Sirius has to physically stop himself from pressing a hand to their heart so they can check. They’re not completely sure whether it’s werewolf hearing or that they’re rarely more than two feet apart, but it doesn’t really matter. Moony knows.
“Just thinking about you,” Sirius whispers back, because that usually always works.
“I love you,” Remus says, which is good, but he sounds worried, which is bad. He shouldn’t be worried about Sirius. He can’t worry about Sirius. “I don’t think that’s it, though.”
f*ck. f*ck. f*ck.
f*ck.
“Doubting me?” Sirius teases, her heart pounding. Remus can hear it. The blankets rustle as Moony sits up, still holding Sirius, because she refuses to roll over.
She thinks if she looks him in the eyes she’ll start crying.
She’s wearing his sweater and it’s warm and soft and smells like him, but it’s cloth on her skin and it itches and she hates it but everything feels so wrong when it’s off. It feels wrong now too, feels wrong not to be pressed up against Moony, feels wrong to not have their skin pressed together, feels wrong-
“You’re not okay,” Remus says, because he’s some f*cking genius, apparently, and yeah, Sirius is definitely crying now and she’s not hiding it very well either. “Pads, can you roll over for me? Please?”
Sirius doesn’t want to but she does want to bury her head in Remus’ chest, his shirtless chest, so she goes when he gently pulls her and then promptly smushes her face on his stomach.
She’s all too aware she’s crying on his bare skin now, and he can most definitely feel it, and this is really rather nice, especially now that he’s rubbing her back and pulling her into his lap, and actually she’s kind of hungry right now. Her middle aches.
That doesn’t help the crying problem.
She tries to picture Mary Macdonald sitting on her ex-boyfriend’s lap, and then adds Remus in place of the (dickish) ex and makes himself into Mary. Elegant, gorgeous Mary, with her curls and red nails and short dresses that she actually finds comfort in. That she feels at home in.
Imagining Mary does help.
For a while, Sirius thought she had a crush on Mary. She might’ve, actually, but it was more in an idol way. She wanted to be Mary Macdonald.
(Sometimes. And then she forgot about it. But she always remembered eventually.)
So Sirius pretends she’s Mary Macdonald and looks up, tilting her head just enough so that she’s still touching Remus but she can see him, and she smiles her best Mary smile. “It’s nothing, really,” she says, pretending the words are coming out of Mary’s mouth. The voice sounds off. Weirdly pitched, much too low and too squeaky at the same time. Sirius’ ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton.
Remus sighs. The disappointed sigh, the one that means Sirius-can-you-be-someone-else-for-just-five-seconds. Which is unfair, really, because being someone else, someone easier, is exactly what Sirius is trying to do right now.
“Someone should’ve probably already told you this, but you’re a terrible liar, Pads,” Remus tells her, which, rude. She’s a wonderful liar. The best liar. She’s absolutely amazing at lying.
She kind of wishes James were here so he’d chime in and tell Remus just what a great liar Sirius is. James always supports her. He always says she’s great.
Of course, Sirius also always says James is great, but that’s because he is, even when he’s being an idiot. She figured out a long time ago that you always need to have at least one person that will always be on your side, no matter what. James is her person.
Remus was forced to face her flaws. Peter is naturally just the sort of person who acknowledges that his friends aren’t perfect and loves them anyway. Regulus is a pessimistic bastard, but when he wasn't, he did okay.
Sirius isn’t sure if any of Regulus’ friends are that person for him, so she’s taken it upon herself to make sure he has someone. Her, namely. Ever since he told her he was sick of all of it and wanted out, ever since he told her his secret and let her hold him as he cried, she’s been that person for him.
But he’s withdrawn too far into himself to return the favour, so she turned to James.
She pretends James is sitting here too, sitting next to Mary, and she opens her mouth and lets him speak for her. “Now that is a lie, and what’s more, that is slander. You, sir, are spreading lies and slandering my good name.”
Remus doesn’t laugh.
He looks at her with his difficult-conversation face and says, “Sirius, can you not turn this into a joke?”
Oh?
Okay. She can do this.
There are only two ways this can go. Either Sirius will listen to him and open up and stop being defensive, and if she does that, there are millions of ways this could go. She could tell him, the castle thinks I’m a girl and that doesn’t always bother me, and he could stare at her or kiss her or tell her she’s finally succumbed to the Black family madness or tell her he doesn’t mind in the slightest bit. He could say he loves her regardless of anything, or he could say he’s gay and only likes boys who are definitely, certainly boys, with no questions about the matter.
Or, what might be the worst scenario, he could just laugh and tell her the stairs probably got confused, what with her hair and nails and jewellery and honestly, Sirius, why do you always dress like a girl?
There’s also the other way, turning it into a fight, which is much easier and will probably end up with her sleeping alone anyway, but only for a day or two. Sirius is very good at making up with Remus. It’s a side effect of being very good at fighting with Remus. She’s had a lot of practice.
She’s not very happy about it; she was enjoying herself quite a bit, or, well, it was nicer before, but fine. If he wants a fight, she’ll give him one.
So Sirius rises to the potential bait. Like she does every single time.
“Can you stop overreacting to nothing, then?”
“I’m not—Merlin, Sirius—you're spiralling again; I can tell when you’re not doing well, okay? So why don’t we just talk about it before you bottle it all up and this turns into another massive end-of-year drama?”
Oh, no.
f*ck that and f*ck him.
(The last one probably won’t be happening for a while after this, unfortunately.)
“Me? I bottle things up?”
“Yes! Yes, you do!”
“Have you checked a mirror lately?”
Remus sits up, which probably wouldn’t mean anything except they’re fighting and Sirius was on him and he’s making Sirius move too and now they’re not touching and that means something. A week or so after they told James and Peter, Sirius had fallen asleep on Remus’ shoulder and woken up when he had heard Remus and James talking.
Aw, look at him, James had been saying, sounding amused. You know, I’ve always thought the height of romance was drooling on your partner.
(That part was just James teasing, of course. Sirius does not drool in her sleep.)
Don’t you dare touch him, Remus had told James. Let him sleep.
What, were you too busy to sleep last night? James had asked, and Sirius had been a little confused then because they hadn’t been. Remus had started studying for exams a few days earlier, and he’d gone to bed early, saying he wanted a clear head, and Sirius had gone too because he didn’t like being abandoned. The only reason he had dozed off was boredom, which always made him sleepy.
Remus hadn’t answered, and James had laughed. Oh, you just want him to keep laying on you, don’t you?
Shut up, it’s easier to study when he’s quiet, Remus had muttered, and James laughed again and left. Sirius counted to six minutes before pretending to wake up and attempting to hide how pleased he was after hearing the conversation.
Remus liked it when Sirius was touching him. Remus liked it when he was holding Sirius, he liked it, he liked it.
And now he is essentially shoving Sirius off.
“Sirius, I’m worried about you,” Remus pleads with badly faked concern. “Please, just talk to me.”
Remus likes to say he wants to hear Sirius talk, he wants to know what’s going on with Sirius, he wants Sirius to confide in him, but why the f*ck would he ever want that? Sirius doesn’t know, so they’re sure he’s lying, because honestly, all Sirius talks about when Remus asks is how sh*t his parents are and how sh*t his life was, and Remus gets it by now; he knows it, he’s probably bored out of his mind, and Sirius just needs him to drop the act and fight with them already because the second choice isn’t working.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Remus,” Sirius snaps. “Stop fussing, Merlin.”
“Someone has to take care of you, because you don’t!” Remus shoots back, and it’s good that he’s getting mad but Sirius is remembering just now, just like he always does, that he actually despises it when Remus is angry with them. It’s genuinely terrible.
Remus isn’t nice, exactly, to anyone. He’s snarky and sarcastic, and the closest he gets to being nice is when he’s saying he loves Sirius or comforting Lily when she’s had a bad day, and even then he does it in an awkward, hesitant way, like it’s his first time doing it and he isn’t entirely sure he’s allowed to be like this. Remus is much better at being defensive, protective, and he’s very good at being mean. He doesn’t like it when he is, he always feels terrible about it, but he’s still good at it.
Which most of the time Sirius finds a little hot, mainly when Remus is being mean to someone Sirius doesn’t like, but when he’s mean to Sirius?
Remus knows Sirius inside and out, and he knows exactly what will make Sirius crumble to pieces, and she’s already feeling like sh*t, and she can’t handle a mean Remus right now. She doesn’t want him to be mean, she wants him to be sweet and loving and gentle, she wants him to be her Moony, she wants him to hold her again and tell her he’ll always love her, always.
She wants him to take care of her. Because she doesn’t.
She also really wants to paint her nails again because it’s basically the only reason she manages to stop biting them whenever she gets even the slightest bit anxious. She’s had to sit on her hands quite a bit recently. She’d rather just paint them again.
She isn’t addressing any of the other reasons she wants them painted again, but she tells herself it’ll make Remus think she’s back to normal and decides she’ll do it later today.
The decision makes her feel just a little bit better, just enough to let herself blink and let the tears fall down her cheeks.
Remus reaches out instantly, and Sirius lets herself fall into his arms and she lets him hug her tightly, rubbing her back as she cries into his already-damp chest. She probably looks terrible. Her skin must be all red by now. If it is, Remus doesn’t seem to have noticed.
“We don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” Remus whispers. “But I think it’d be better if we did eventually, okay?”
Sirius cries and lets him think that means yes, okay, because she doesn’t want to make the wrong choice but maybe she can keep deflecting for a little while longer.
The irony of briefly wishing her boyfriend liked girls is not lost on them, considering how long they spent hoping for the opposite, but it’s stupid, really, because Sirius isn’t a girl. Sirius is a boy that dresses like a girl sometimes because it’s fun and interesting, and that’s it, really, and maybe the staircase is just broken because, really, Sirius is fine.
Sirius is fine.
They can make up an excuse for Moony later.
Usually Sirius loves Saturdays because they don’t have classes, which means they have all the time in the world to do whatever they want.
Today, Sirius hates Saturdays because they don’t have classes, and Remus keeps countering every excuse they attempt to use with a reasonable argument on why Sirius should just stay in bed with him.
Normally, Sirius would agree wholeheartedly, but right now everything’s just a bit wonky, from the way their clothes fit on their body and the way their hair almost touches their back, but not quite, to how they keep blinking, but the world is still fuzzy. Almost like they accidentally got eyeliner in their eyes, but they haven’t used eyeliner in weeks.
It takes Sirius until one in the afternoon to slip away, leaving Remus with a slightly befuddled Peter. They shut the door to their dorm behind them, pull James’ invisibility cloak out, and throw it over themself. Then, they march downstairs to the common room, dodging a group of third years playing Gobstones, and head up the staircase into the girls’ dormitory.
Sirius has been trying the girls’ staircase a lot recently, and they call tell, now, when it’s going to be fine. Sometimes when they walk up it’s like they can feel the wrong in their stomach, like they can feel the magic pushing them away. They don’t actually know for certain if the staircase won’t work then, because they’ve never tried it. Sirius can take a hint, thank you very much, regardless of what some people may say.
(Mary, mostly. And Remus. And Peter, sometimes, and okay, maybe everyone says it, but that’s irrelevant. They’re all wrong.)
Anyway, it’s fine today; no buzzing-away-magic feelings, so Sirius makes their way down the hallway until they reach the seventh-year girls’ room and pulls off the cloak before knocking.
There’s nothing at first, and then there’s some scuffling, and Mary pulls the door open, glancing at them before a grin breaks out over her face.
“Wonderful, I’ve been waiting for you to pop over. Just a second!” She darts back inside, letting the door swing back so Sirius has a full view of the dorm.
“Mary,” Sirius huffs, leaning on the doorframe as they try to sound as exasperated as possible. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” she insists, ducking down behind her bed and popping up again with several bags. “Come in and sit down. There’s no escape. We can talk while I work.”
Sirius heaves a sigh, barely hiding a grin. “You women. Y’know, I hear James doesn’t have to be your model every time he comes over to visit Miss Evans.”
“James’ eyelashes aren’t as nice as yours, and anyway, he can’t get up the staircase. You, on the other hand…”
“A Marauder never tells,” Sirius recites automatically. They’ve been visiting Mary quite a bit ever since the two of them dated, which probably didn’t help all the rumours about them still being secretly together, but the real reason for it is that every time Sirius shows up, Mary herds them inside and forces them to let her do their makeup.
Force might be a strong word for it, seeing as she only has to gesture vaguely and Sirius would follow, but she doesn’t need to know that. They do their best to only come when Mary is alone, but unless they have the Map on them, there’s not much they can do about it, and lately James has been absolutely terrible at hogging it. Lily and Marlene have both run into them, as well as Dorcas. However, given that their run-in with Dorcas was less of a problem, seeing as it consisted of Sirius catching Dorcas climbing out of Marlene’s bed and Dorcas catching Sirius wearing lipstick and a miniskirt, so they probably don’t have anything to worry about there. The next time they saw each other, when all the seventh-year Gryffindors were hanging out and Dorcas tagged along, she caught their eye and winked. They just smiled, and since then neither has brought it up.
So currently, Sirius’ only concern is that James notices Sirius’ name on the Map and comes after him, but even if James’ glasses suddenly start working and he becomes the teensiest bit observant, he can’t get up the staircase.
If that does ever happen (which is so unlikely Sirius hasn’t bothered worrying about it for longer than two seconds), they’ll just stay up here forever and move in with Mary. They’ll miss Remus, but it’s better than the alternatives.
“Fine, fine,” Mary says with a laugh. “Keep your secrets. Now, red, gold, or purple? I assume your Gryffindor sensibilities won’t allow you to even consider blue or green.”
“You assume correctly. Purple.”
Mary makes a face, rummaging through one of her bags in search of whatever purple item she plans to procure. Eyeshadow, probably. “This would be much more fun if you’d let me play around.”
“Is that not exactly what you’re doing right now?”
“Well, yes, but still.”
Sirius laughs. Despite her supposed assumption that Sirius is visiting her for other reasons, Mary never makes an effort to ask what said reasons are or tries to figure out how they’re getting up here besides from the few easily-deflected remarks. She knows, Sirius is sure of it, she knows Sirius likes this even if she doesn’t know why, but seeing as Sirius doesn’t even know why, they can’t exactly blame her for that.
But it’s nice in the girls’ dorms, and Mary likes to dress Sirius up, and Sirius thinks it’s funny how many rumours there are about secret, passionate love affairs between the two of them when they’ve never even slept together.
It’s nice here, and Sirius can dress up and look pretty, and it isn’t even their choice, so it doesn’t make them sick. They’re being a good friend, that’s it.
They haven’t been here since they figured it out about the stairs, but if they’re going to paint their nails today, they might as well have them done right, and usually Mary will do their nails whenever they ask. She’s much better at it than they are.
“Hey, Mary?” Sirius asks after a few moments of comfortable silence while Mary borrows Lily’s makeup because, being a ginger and therefore allergic to the sun, she’s the closest to Sirius, who isn’t ginger and spends a ridiculous amount of time in the sun but somehow has never tanned once in their life. They aren’t sure if it’s possible for someone to be immune to tanning, but almost anything’s possible with enough inbreeding, and they’ve never seen Regulus look any darker than a marble statue, so it could be genetic.
“Yeah?”
Sirius doesn’t know why they’re doing this. They feel like they shouldn’t want to, but they do, and they don't, and really, it’s fine, but it might not be, but they have to admit to themself that Mary is definitely the least risky person to confide in. She isn’t dating them. She isn’t sleeping in the same dorm as them. They’re just friends, she knows Sirius is gay, and she doesn’t care if they don’t dress like a boy all the time. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.
They feel sick. But it’s fine.
“Want to know how I get up the stairs?”
Mary jumps up, holding Lily’s foundation and concealer, and hurries over. “If this is something random you’ve just made up, no, shush, just stir there and look pretty; it’s not that hard. If it’s for real, sure.”
Sirius lets herself be thrilled for a few seconds at being called pretty, and then she says it. “I walk.”
Mary rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh. Thanks.”
“Mary,” Sirius repeats, looking her in the eye so they don’t throw up. “I’m telling you. I walk up the stairs.”
“You can’t,” she says. Sirius sighs and gets up.
“Put that down,” they say reluctantly, and Mary, who has a very strange expression, puts the makeup down and follows them out into the hall, where Sirius carefully glances around and then steps down.
Nothing happens. Sirius takes another step.
Nothing.
“Oh my god,” Mary mumbles. “You broke the stairs. You actually broke the stairs.”
“I didn’t,” Sirius says, and she’d be more upset that Mary isn’t getting it if she got it herself. As it is, Mary’s reaction seems appropriate. “It works for James. And Remus. And Pete. And everyone else, actually. All of the boys. Just not me.”
“Oh,” Mary says, and she steps down and grabs their wrist to pull them back to her room. Once they’re there, she lets go and sits down on her bed once more. “Sirius, are you a girl?”
“No,” she says, and it’s true.
“Are you a boy?”
“No,” he says, and his voice wavers, just a little bit. But it’s true. It has to be true. The castle says so.
“What are you, then?” Mary asks, and she’s trying to understand.
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” they admit, and they burst out laughing.
Mary stares at them in shock for approximately three seconds before she’s laughing right along with them, tears pouring down both of their faces as they howl with laughter, bent over and shaking.
By the time Sirius has mostly calmed down, trying to get their breathing back to normal as they giggle manically to themself, Mary has also regained most of her composure.
“I don’t really know what happens now,” Mary finally admits, still wheezing a little bit.
“I was just going to say that!” Sirius exclaims, and then they’re both laughing again, and Sirius’ makeup is definitely ruined, but she doesn’t really care, right now, because Mary knows and Mary’s still here, and Mary’s sobbing with laughter as she pulls Sirius to her chest, and they slide off the bed and collapse into a heap of hysteria together, both clutching at the other.
“Uhm,” Sirius hears someone above him say. “Are you okay?”
“Great, Lils,” Mary manages to gasp out. “Amazing. Brilliant.”
“Fantastic!” Sirius pipes up, and for some reason that’s the funniest thing ever, and Mary seems to agree with this sentiment completely because she lets go of Sirius to writhe on the floor as she laughs.
“I…I don’t really believe you,” Lily admits, bending down and examining Sirius. “Are you wearing mascara? Did Mary trap you again? Why are you crying?”
“It’s the good kind, promise,” Sirius chokes out. “Pinky-swear.”
“Are you drunk?” Lily asks sceptically.
“No,” Sirius says, at the same time Mary says, “a little bit.”
They look at each other. “What,” Mary says defensively, still sideways on the floor. “I thought you’d have gotten at least a little tipsy before that conversation.”
“Took me forever to slip away from Remus,” Sirius explains. “And all the alcohol’s under my bed.”
Mary opens her mouth, then hesitates. “What…why does that matter? Did Remus steal your bed?”
“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius says as the realisation hits her.
“You never told her,” Lily hisses unhelpfully.
“Told me what?” Mary asks.
“Uh, so,” Sirius giggles. “Remus is, like. And I’m, you know. And we’re, well.”
“That was the most unhelpful explanation ever,” Lily says.
“No, no,” Mary says, waving her off. “And you’ve been dating for how long and didn’t tell me?”
“What-“ Lily sputters. “How did you-“
“We only told James and Peter like, two months ago,” Sirius assures her. “He wasn’t really ready, and I didn’t want to push it. And he doesn’t really know we’re close, because...”
“He hates me,” Mary realises suddenly. “Because I’m your ex? And we hang out all the time?”
“Pretty much,” Sirius admits.
“That makes so much sense,” Mary exclaims. “I keep catching him randomly glaring at me! I thought that was weird!”
Sirius preens, more than a little pleased with herself. “He’s so hot when he’s jealous.”
“Girl,” Mary huffs, so casually, but she’s never said that before. “You’re so lucky. Like, honestly. He’s so fine.”
“I know, right?” Sirius says because she can’t think of anything else to add, but she needs to move on quickly or Lily will see how emotional that casual girl has made her, and she knows Lily is Remus’ friend, but Sirius has never been very close with her, and she doesn’t really want to do this right now. She knows, suddenly, that whoever she tells next, it’s between either James or Remus.
(Probably James. James will always love her, and she hopes Remus will too, but James’ love is unconditional and Remus’ is undeserved.)
Plus, he’s gay, an unhelpful voice in her head adds. And you’re not a boy, are you?
“I’m going to head back, Mary,” Sirius says suddenly. “Thanks for the talk, really. Helped a lot.”
“No problem, babe,” Mary says, and she winks and blows Sirius a kiss. “Tell your man I said hi.”
Sirius blushes, waves to Lily, and quickly exits the room, feeling so lightheaded that they don’t even bother pulling the cloak out before they practically skip down the stairs into the common room. It’s a Saturday morning. (Noon, whatever.) No one’s ever there.
Except that was a really bad decision, because James Potter is sitting on one of the couches, head turned towards Sirius, and he’s watching her with a wide-eyed expression that makes Sirius feel pretty certain he’s been here for a while.
“f*ck,” she says, and James doesn’t say anything at all, so she turns and runs. It takes her way too long to remember that she’s still got the remains of the makeup caked on her face, and by that point she’s already near a bathroom (a girl’s bathroom), so she goes in and wipes off her face and then locks herself in a stall and cries, in a not-good way.
James doesn’t come after her.
She wonders if he’s already telling Remus.
Sirius stays in the bathroom for hours. No one comes for him, although a few people do enter to actually use the bathroom. Every time that happens, he goes absolutely silent and pulls his feet up until they leave.
He knows James has the Map, knows it’s his turn, so he knows James knows exactly where he is and he isn’t coming. Hasn’t, for hours.
Sirius waits until his tears have dried and all of his emotions have shrivelled up, until he doesn’t feel anything but a very strong wish to get out of this bathroom.
So he waits until it’s completely empty and he can’t hear anyone else coming, he washes off his face, and he walks out, coming face-to-face with his younger brother, who is leaning on the wall next to the bathroom door with his arms crossed and an annoyed expression.
“Finally,” Regulus snaps before Sirius has a chance to freak out and run again. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting here? Two hours.”
“What?” Sirius sputters. “What are you-“
Regulus sighs, pulling what looks like a slightly crumpled piece of parchment out of his bag and waving it in Sirius’ face. “Here. James would’ve come, but he wouldn’t explain why you were upset or why he needed to find you so badly, so I didn’t give it to him. He’s furious with me, by the way, but he’ll get over it.”
Sirius takes the paper, trying to smooth it out with shaking hands. “Why did you have the Map?” he asks, trying to make it sound as unaccusatory as possible.
Regulus shrugs awkwardly. “James leant it to me,” he mutters, and Sirius really doesn’t think that’s it, but there’s a time and a place and this really isn’t it. “So, are you going to explain, or should I wait another two hours?”
“You could’ve just come in,” Sirius points at, clearing their throat. “You know. Instead of standing out here.”
Regulus blushes, just a bit, faint pink spots appearing on his usually-pale cheeks. “It’s a girls’ bathroom,” he hisses, and Sirius flinches, despite himself, at those words, and then Regulus’ eyes widen, and Sirius curses himself because Regulus obviously hadn’t thought any further, but now he is, now he is, and-
“Really, Potter?” Regulus snaps, and Sirius belatedly realises his eyes are fixed on someone behind Sirius. He exhales with relief, and then he stiffens again, as he comprehends what Regulus has just said and slowly turns around.
“Excuse me for going after you after you stole my stuff,” James says sharply, and oh, no, he sounds mad. He sounds furious. “What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, wait?” Regulus groans. “He’s my brother! I said I’d go after him!”
“Yeah, but!” James huffs, with the face Sirius knows means he wants to argue but either can’t think of a retort or can’t think of a retort that won’t end up with him spilling secrets or getting in trouble. “You weren’t involved in this!”
“And now I am,” Regulus says, rolling his eyes. “Look at that. Now that we’ve got that established, would someone mind explaining anything?”
“James,” Sirius whispers. “I’m sorry, please don’t hate me, I don’t know why it goes that, I didn’t do anything, I promise, I just...“
“Hey, no,” James interrupts, his arms going up around their shoulders. “It’s okay, really, mate. I was just surprised, okay? I’m not upset, just, well, a little confused, but we can get to that later. Breathe, Pads.”
Sirius buries their head in his shirt, relaxing in the right embrace of his arms. They can hear James and Regulus arguing, but it seems muffled now.
“It’s a Marauders thing,” they think James is saying. “And it’s nothing personal, Reg, but Sirius doesn’t seem to want to tell anyone. My part was a complete accident, and I don’t want to force Sirius into anything.”
“He’s my brother, not yours!” Regulus is protesting. “I should-I should-“
And then James is saying something else, and Regulus is handing him something, and then James is leading Sirius away, upstairs, into Gryffindor Tower and the boys’ dorms, and Sirius thinks Regulus might be following but they aren’t really sure of anything except that the journey ends with James pulling Sirius into his bed and Sirius thinking to themself as they drift off that this is the first time in months they haven’t slept in Remus’ arms.
Sirius wakes up to the sound of Remus’ voice, which is initially comforting, and it makes her wiggle closer to him, but for some reason he seems to have shrunk a bit, and he’s sitting up and-
Oh. Right.
Sirius goes still, pressed into James as she listens to him argue with Remus, one hand still draped over her back.
“He’s my boyfriend!” Remus is saying. “I think I should be allowed to know why he had a freakout!”
“I told you, it’s not my place to say,” James says firmly, in the tone of someone who has said exactly this many times. “It’s no one’s place to say but Sirius’.”
“She knows!” Remus protests, and Sirius hears a bed creak and he hears the sound of a girl clearing her throat.
“Because Sirius told me,” Mary says. “James doesn’t—James doesn’t even know, Remus, I swear. I don’t actually know how much James knows, but he is right.”
“What kind of secret is it,” Remus says in a low voice filled with frustration. “That my boyfriend’s ex knows, and I’m not allowed to!”
“We’re friends, you know this,” Mary protests. “I know because Sirius told me. No one else, and that includes everyone, is going to hear anything about Sirius from anyone who isn’t Sirius.”
“Friends,” Remus mutters. “Sure.”
“Excuse me?” Mary says sharply, and Sirius feels James lean over her.
“I know you’re awake,” James breathes next to her ear, as quiet as possible. “You don’t have to explain, but can you talk to Remus, please? He’s worried about you.”
“I can still-“ Remus starts to say, before falling silent as he seems to realise there is no possible explanation for how he could be able to hear James other than the truth and how Mary is completely unaware of the truth. He sighs. “Sirius?”
Sirius opens her eyes, turning over. James’ grip loosens just enough to allow the movement, but not any more than that, which Sirius is grateful for. “Hey,” she says in a dull, tired voice.
Remus bends down so that their eyes are on the same level, reaching forward to brush Sirius’ hair back. “What’s going on?” he asks quietly. “Star?”
Sirius huffs, partly because she doesn’t really like the fuss and partly because she’s almost positive this display is for Mary’s eyes, because normally Remus is awkward and stiff and he doesn’t call Sirius pet names unless he’s feeling really sappy, never when they’re in a mini-fight, which Sirius is almost certain they are in right now.
“M’fine,” Sirius mumbles, because she’s a little annoyed with the fake affection and she doesn’t feel like helping with this little show when Mary was so lovely earlier and Remus is being like this and getting mad at James, lovely James, who’s never done a thing wrong in his life. “Just overreacted.”
“Don’t give me this bullsh*t again,” Remus snaps, dropping the facade. “You were being weird this morning, then you snuck off, and the next thing I hear, you’re hiding in a bathroom for two hours sobbing, and now you won’t tell anyone but Mary what’s wrong. You’re not fine!”
Sirius groans, secretly satisfied with herself. “I am.”
“Stop being like this!” Remus exclaims, standing up. “I love you, let me help, okay? We’re not supposed to have secrets from each other!”
“Go away,” Sirius says coldly. “Let me f*cking think, okay? Merlin, some bedside manner you’ve got.”
“f*ck that, no,” Remus snaps. “I’m not running off so you can talk James into keeping silent about whatever you’re getting up to with Mary! If you slept with her, just f*cking tell me!”
“That’s what you think?” Sirius demands, sitting up. “I didn’t f*cking sleep with Mary!”
“Then why the f*ck do you keep sneaking off to meet up with her!” Remus explodes. “I’m not an idiot! I don’t even know how you get up there, but somehow you’ve managed it, and now you won’t even be honest with me!”
“I walked!” Sirius shrieks at him.
“What?” Remus asks, his fury evidently put on hold for a moment of confusion.
“I walked up the bloody stairs,” Sirius seethes. “That’s it. I’m not f*cking cheating on you, but you can go f*ck yourself for thinking I would.”
“You can’t walk up the stairs,” Remus snaps. “I’m not an idiot, you can’t-“
“He did, Moons,” James interrupts.
“Yup,” Mary adds. “And I’m not sleeping with him. We just talk.”
“How the f*ck do you get up the stairs?” Remus sputters.
“I don’t f*cking know!” Sirius cries, throwing her hands up. “That’s the entire point! Sometimes the stairs let me up, and I go hang out with Mary and get her to do my makeup and let me dress up because I f*cking like it, and this time James saw me come down, and I panicked! That’s it! That’s everything! Happy?”
“Sirius-“ Remus starts to say, but she cuts him off.
“Get out,” she says venomously. “Out.”
And he does, without protest, and despite her insistence, it still feels like a knife in her chest, watching him leave.
Sirius is partially buried in the pillows, and James curls over her, sleeping with his head on her stomach. They’re alone now, or at least they’re alone with the curtains on James’ bed pulled closed and spelled shut. Mary left a few hours ago after Sirius mumbled out a longer explanation for James, and he reassured Sirius until she was convinced he wasn’t going to abandon her the instant she fell asleep.
Peter came in a while ago, and Sirius doesn’t know if he’s still here or not, but she doesn’t think Remus is. She doesn't know where Remus is; it's either very early in the morning or very late at night, and she wants to find her moon.
“I’ll be back,” she whispers to James, slowly wiggling out from under him. She slips out of bed, kissing his forehead quickly, and then she creeps out of the room and goes still in the hallway.
She can hear Remus and Lily’s voices, drifting down the hallway, and she strains her ears to listen. She can’t hear as well as Remus, of course, but she can hear better than most people after so long with Padfoot.
“…nothing, Remus,” Lily is saying. “He loves you. You know that.”
“Sirius told me to go f*ck myself,” Remus says gloomily. Something seems odd about the words, and Sirius frowns, going over them in her head.
Sirius told me to...ohHuh.
Remus isn’t using any pronouns for her.
That’s…interesting.
“It’s going to be okay,” Lily says reassuringly, in a voice Sirius can barely hear. “You’re both very passionate people, and you clash sometimes. You told me before, that’s part of the reason you like him so much.”
Oh. Very interesting.
Remus mumbles something Sirius can’t make out, and Lily swears loudly. “What? Why would you do that?”
“Because-“ Remus starts to say, then stops. “We…Sirius keeps sneaking out, I thought…”
“Oh, Remus,” Lily says, and whispers something else. Sirius sighs, starting to walk down the hall, and he hears Remus hiss something at Lily, probably a warning to be quiet, and then Sirius is walking down the stairs again, but this time it’s from the boys’ dorms, and Remus is waiting, not James.
“Hey, Moons,” Sirius says softly, rubbing at his cheek. “Evans. Can we talk?”
“Yeah,” Remus says immediately. “Yeah, uh, Lily?”
She nods, getting up and hugging Remus before she turns to go, shooting Sirius a calculated look over her shoulder before walking up the stairs and out of sight.
“I’m sorry for saying that,” Sirius says, still standing.
“So’m I,” Remus says, and he shuffles over to make more space on the couch, so that Sirius can sit without touching him if she wants to. She doesn’t move. Not yet. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”
“Do you?” Sirius challenges.
“I do when I’m using my head,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking properly. I was mad and confused, and I-I was the one overreacting.”
“A bit,” Sirius says, and she walks over and sits down. She leaves an inch between them, which is much less than she could've, but still the farthest she’s sat from Remus in a long time. “Not really,” she admits after a moment. “I should’ve talked to you. You’re right about that.”
“Yeah,” Remus says, but it isn’t accusatory, exactly. More curious. “Are you going to now?”
“I guess,” she mumbles. “I mean, I already kind of said it. I can get up the stairs. I’ll show you, if you don’t believe me.”
“You don’t have to,” Remus says quickly.
Sirius shrugs, and then she gets up and walks over to them anyway, sitting down on the second step up. Nothing happens. Remus nods, slowly.
“Do you…do you think you’re a girl?” Remus asks carefully. “Is that what this is?”
“No,” Sirius says. “Not always,” she amends, standing up and walking back over to the couch. “But sometimes, I feel like...”
Remus holds his hand out, offering it to her. She takes it, and lets him pull her down, so she’s sitting pressed against him.
“I want to be sometimes,” she whispers, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. “But you’re gay.”
“Bi,” he corrects her.
“What?” she asks.
“I’m bi. Not gay. Figured it out a month or so ago, but it hasn’t really come up.”
Sirius frowns. “What’s…”
“I like both,” he explains, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and resting his head lightly on hers. “Blokes and girls.“
“Oh,” Sirius says, feeling a little spark of hope flare up. “You…”
“Yeah,” Remus says, and she can almost hear the smile in his voice.
“So…”
“I, uh…I wouldn’t be opposed to having a girlfriend sometimes,” he says awkwardly. “If, you know. You were her. I’d take anything if it meant I could have you.”
“Remus Lupin,” she murmurs. “I never took you for such a romantic.”
“I’m full of surprises,” he teases, taking her hand. She intertwines their fingers. “So we’re okay?”
“Yeah,” she says, beaming. “Yeah. Sorry about earlier, it just…makes me feel gross, sometimes. When I want to be a girl and it doesn’t match up.”
“Mary helps with that?” Remus checks.
“She helps it match. So, yes. It wasn’t really Mary specifically at first, but she never asked questions. And now I just…we’re really good friends. That’s all.”
“Okay,” Remus says, and he sounds like it is. “I believe you,” and it sounds like he does.
“I love you,” Sirius informs him.
“You’re divine,” he tells her. “And I love you too.”
“I don’t wear the stuff I do because it’s punk rock. I just like it.”
“It’s really, really hot. I don’t care why you wear it.”
“I want to grow my hair out. Even more.”
Remus groans. “Good. It’s impossible to braid as it is, that’d help a lot.”
She giggles, poking his side with her free hand. “Maybe you’re just bad at it.”
“Maybe you’re very critical,” he grumbles.
“Can you call me your girlfriend sometimes? When it’s just us and James? I told him earlier.”
“I’d do anything for you,” he whispers. “My beautiful, brilliant girlfriend.”
She cries a little, then, but it's okay this time. It's all going to be okay.
