Chapter Text
Sirius Black thinks he understands things.
Not everything, he's not completely delusional, but the important ones.
He understands loyalty. He understands friendship. He understands how far you're supposed to go for the people you love.
(Quite far, as it turns out. Impressively far, actually. He's always been very good at that.)
What he does not understand is
—why going above and beyond for a friend suddenly feels like crossing a line.
—why Remus trusting someone else feels like a personal insult. Specifically when that someone else has no business being so easy to talk to, or so tall, or so casually good at existing in spaces that Sirius has always considered (in some unspoken and frankly embarrassing way) his.
—why he had spent hours on something careful and deliberate and, frankly, a little bit brilliant, and then handed it over like it was nothing. Like it was just a gift.
(It had not felt like just a gift. It had felt like cracking a window open and hoping Remus would look through it.)
(Remus had looked.)
(That was the problem.)
Sirius stares at the ceiling, blinking slowly.
Right. So. Possibilities.
One: he's overthinking it.
(Unlikely. He doesn't do that.)
Two: something has gone horribly wrong.
(Moderately likely. Things don't usually go wrong for Sirius Black, they escalate. And fine, yes, this may have escalated. Slightly. He had what felt like a perfectly reasonable idea and he executed it with his usual standard of excellence and now everything feels strange and tilted and Remus had stayed at his bedside in the dark without being asked and Sirius had felt something move in his chest that he has not been able to move back.)
(This is not his fault.)
(It is definitely his fault.)
Three: he has absolutely no idea what he's doing.
That one, unfortunately, feels correct.
Because this, whatever this is, was not supposed to happen. He had a direction. Something resembling a plan. Do something nice. Do something clever. Do something that would make Remus smile, or laugh, or look at him like—
He doesn't finish that thought.
Sirius sits up abruptly, like that might physically shake something.
This is fine. He is fine. He is handling this with his characteristic grace and emotional intelligence.
(He is not handling it at all.)
He flops back down.
"...Merlin," he mutters.
The ceiling, unhelpfully, says nothing.
He is only just beginning to suspect (and this feels like a genuine personal betrayal, he would like to lodge a complaint) that he may have shown Remus something he didn't mean to show him.
Or.
(Worse.)
That he meant to show him exactly that, and hadn't known it until now.
He doesn't know what it means yet.
He's not sure he wants to.
✦ ✦ ✦
September, seventh year
It had started, technically, over the summer in late August.
Potter Manor was full of people, noise, and just enough secrecy to make everything feel important. Order business behind closed doors, laughter everywhere else. It was James Potter's birthday, so all the important people were there, all their friends, celebrating the end of summer and their Prongs, charming as ever.
And somehow, the arrival of the Prewett twins became the highlight of the day.
They'd become a regular fixture at the Potters' with the concerningly frequent Order visits, which made them natural friends, not exactly with the Marauders, but with the Potters in general. They'd overlapped a year or two at Hogwarts, though Sirius couldn't quite recall the exact age gap.
So when they arrived that afternoon (after the cake had already been cut, which was rude) the party had already migrated to the garden. Sirius, Peter, Remus, Lily, Mary, and Marlene were stretched out in the grass while James made the rounds with his old relatives, some great-aunts who talked on and on about how grown-up he was, and James returned each compliment with a hundred more. Sirius was genuinely happy, almost all of his friends were there to celebrate his best friend's birthday. He'd prepared a special cocktail he named 'the Antlers' for the occasion, and they were well into it when Mary made the first comment.
"How many years older are the Prewett twins?"
"Dunno, they were still in school when we started, I think." Marlene answered.
"Hmm. So worth a shot, right?"
Lily laughed. "Do you even know which one is which?"
"Does it really matter? They both look so good. Don't tell me you don't agree."
Sirius had rolled his eyes, unimpressed. Okay, yes, they looked good, but Mary had just come off another break-up with the objectively most handsome boy in school, that Hufflepuff, Diggory. She was always like this after.
Lily shrugged. "Okay, yes, they do look good. But I'm not into troublemakers, as I've made very clear. They were all about their pranks back in school, as I remember."
"I prefer creative," Sirius said. "Troublemaker is so reductive."
Marlene laughed at that but then added: "Not anymore, actually. They've been spending a lot of time with my brother, both in Auror training, apparently got top marks on the entrance exam. Becoming a bit of a big deal in the department."
"Looks, career..." Mary hummed. "They're like the full package, aren't they?"
"Oh my god," Peter said. "No one cares about personality anymore?"
"Come on, Peter, give us more credit! They're also fun. What do you say, Remus?" Mary turned to the one who hadn't spoken, obviously. She loved doing that.
Struck by the sudden question, Remus looked startled for a moment, then decided to play along. "Mm. You need an expert opinion on your next endeavor Mary? You really should stop asking me and then going for the worst possible option and coming to cry to me about it."
"I'm asking your opinion, babe. I don't recall you mentioning fancying anyone in a while."
Sirius's attention sharpened slightly. That was true.
Remus laughed. "I'm a hopeless case, don't you know?"
Mary smiled at that. "Not with the right person. Why not a fancy Auror? Our tall, handsome bookworm deserves no less."
So that was the start of it. All that Prewett infatuation. Sirius hadn't really minded at the time.
Now he was starting to regret that.
Because a few weeks later, on a September evening, Fabian Prewett was sitting at the staff table in the Great Hall.
And suddenly, everyone was interested again.
"I don't get it," Mary whispered, leaning across the table. "Wasn't he working for the Auror department? Why is he here?"
"Mary," Marlene said dryly, "I promise you, it's not to confess his undying love to you."
Mary sighed dramatically. "Well, that's disappointing. I was ready."
She tipped her chin toward the staff table. "Do you see how he carries those robes? That is exactly my type."
"Hiya ladies," Sirius cut in, sliding between them and dropping onto the bench. "Talking about me again?"
Lily laughed. "Oh, Black, you'll be devastated to hear you've been replaced. The entire school has a new obsession."
She tilted her head toward the staff table.
"Prewett's here."
James immediately leaned forward. "Where—? Oh. Wrong Prewett."
Peter snorted. "I can't believe you're still hung up on Gideon. You barely knew him, you just watched him blow up half the castle as a prank in second year and decided he was your hero."
"That is so not true," James said.
"It is," Peter said. "You went on about him for months. Honestly, this is worse than your attempts to date Evans."
Lily grinned. "Oh, I'd happily swap places with Gideon if it means Potter stops asking me to Hogsmeade every weekend."
"Oh, come on, Lils," James said, beaming. "That was just my first love. You're my last."
Sirius laughed at that. "Merlin, you're unbearable."
But his gaze had already drifted back to the staff table. Sirius frowned, just slightly.
"Why is he actually here though?" he asked. "And don't tell me it's to fuel your collective crush."
Marlene smirked. "Oh, I think Remus might know."
Everyone turned.
Remus didn't look up at first, eyes still on his book. Then, slowly, he closed it, lifting his gaze with that small, controlled smile.
"You really don't miss anything, do you?" he said.
Peter blinked. "Wait—what? What is it?"
Marlene leaned forward, satisfied. "He came straight to you when he walked in. Don't think we didn't notice."
"Oh, come on, Marls," Lily cut in. "You know they've been working together." Then she added more quietly, "for the Order."
"Working," Marlene repeated, unconvinced. "Right."
Remus exhaled softly, almost amused.
"A few meetings over the summer," he said. "Nothing particularly grand."
Mary leaned in immediately. "Meetings?"
"Hardly romantic," Remus added dryly. "He mostly makes sure I don't get myself killed."
Sirius hated it. Dumbledore had reached out to Remus over the summer, something about Remus's special circumstances making him useful to the Order, as long as he was willing. And Remus was willing, of course. Sirius understood that. What he didn't understand was the secrecy toward his own friends, his fellow Marauders, who were obviously not going to tell anyone.
The others had learned not to press. Sirius hadn't.
"So you knew he was coming?" He asked.
Remus shrugged. "He mentioned it only last week."
"And you didn't tell us?"
It came out sharper than Sirius intended. Louder, too. Remus's eyes flicked to him. Before he could answer, Dumbledore's glass chimed sharply. The Hall fell quiet.
"Saved by the speech," James muttered.
Dumbledore rose, smiling faintly. "Welcome back. Another year at Hogwarts begins—"
Sirius barely listened.
All summer, he'd felt it again, that same familiar feeling. Not having a space. Watching Remus step into something dangerous, something real, something Sirius wasn't allowed near. Order meetings took place at the Potters', and Sirius had been staying with them, of course. Where else would he go? The Potters had never made him feel like anything less than family.
But the others, they never said it outright. They didn't have to. A pause when he entered the room. A glance that lingered too long.
"Are you sure we should be speaking here... when there's a Black in the house?"
Mrs. Potter would cut it down immediately, sharp and certain. But it didn't change anything. They never asked him to leave. But they never asked him to stay, either.
"...we are fortunate," Dumbledore continued, "that Mr. Fabian Prewett has agreed to step in as Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, while Professor Oakheart is absent for the coming months..."
Sirius's head snapped up at the name.
A ripple of excitement moved through the Gryffindor table.
Fabian stood, offering an easy wave, definitely too casual for a teacher.
"Lucky me," he said lightly. "At least I won't have to deal with the Prewett twins. Though I'm sure trouble didn't die with us."
He winked toward the Gryffindor table which received a sharp look from McGonagall.
Everyone laughed. Sirius turned back to Remus, eyes narrowing.
Before he can start, Remus lifted his hands defensively. "You were about to find out anyway."
"You and your secrets..."
James snorted. "That's why he's actually in the Order, mate. You and I are still trying to listen in closed doors and stealing my dad's notes and pretending it counts."
Peter grinned. "I think it's brilliant. We're being taught by an actual Auror."
Mary wasn't listening anymore.
"I don't care," she said, still watching the staff table. "As long as we get to see him more."
✦ ✦ ✦
The term began as it usually did.
Sirius was more than happy to be back at Hogwarts, surrounded by everything he loved, and, more importantly, everything that loved him back. Even if it was NEWTs year, even if half the castle seemed to be spiralling into academic despair, Sirius wasn't particularly concerned.
Not gonna lie, he was used to things being easy. Not in an arrogant way, or, well, maybe a little bit.
But he had never really needed to try. Classes made sense without effort, spells came naturally, and if they didn't, he could usually bluff his way through until they did. Professors either liked him or tolerated him, which, in Sirius's opinion, was more than enough.
So, really, everything was going exactly as it should.
God, he'd missed the common room. The warmth, the constant buzz of people talking over each other, laughing, existing too much. The beginning of the term had always been his favourite. Everything still felt possible.
"Sirius Black," Mary announced, dropping dramatically onto the arm of his chair, "tell your fans I am not your secretary. And being your ex does not make me responsible for your love life."
Sirius didn't even look up from where he was sprawled across the armchair.
"Oh?" he said lazily. "And who's been bothering my favourite, most beautiful friend now?"
Mary snorted. "Your 'most beautiful friend'?"
"And the love of my life," Sirius added grinning.
"Oh yes," Mary said, completely unfazed. "My very important two-day relationship. Truly unforgettable."
"It was the best two days of my life," Sirius said.
"It was your personal record," Mary shot back. "I've had longer relationships in elementary school."
Lily laughed from the sofa. "That's not even surprising."
Mary waved a hand. "Anyway. This Ravenclaw boy, Seth? He is the third person asking me if you're single and the term just begun this week Black. Do something."
Sirius finally sat up, offended.
"First of all, I don't even know who that is. Second of all" he gestured vaguely at himself, "I can't believe people still need to ask if I am single. Haven't I made it abundantly clear I am always open to anything exciting?"
Lily raised an eyebrow. "I don't think that's the reputation you think it is."
Sirius smirked. "Well, I don't see you having any romantic endeavours, Evans. I'll start dating seriously when you finally accept my dear Prongs."
Lily groaned. "I cannot believe I can't escape James's dating attempts even when he's not in the room."
Mary rolled her eyes. "Both of you need to get better at understanding your feelings, or your love lives are going to stay exactly like this forever."
Sirius and Lily turned to her at the exact same time.
"That's not—"
"Oh, come on—"
They started, equally offended.
Close to them, near the window, Remus closed his book and started packing his bag.
Sirius noticed immediately.
"Where are you going?" he asked, sitting up a little straighter.
"The library."
"What?" Sirius frowned. "Why?"
Remus slung his bag over his shoulder. "I need to do some reading. It's impossible with you lot talking."
"Oh come on Moony, it's only the first month. I thought I had at least a few weeks before you went into one of your 'I need to study' moods."
"It's not for school, Pads."
Sirius paused.
"For the Order?"
Remus just gave him a look that very clearly said he wasn't answering that.
Sirius leaned forward slightly.
"Then don't go disappear into that cold, miserable library yet, please," he said quickly. "James is already losing his mind over finding a new seeker for the team and Peter's just following him around to help. I can't lose you too."
Remus laughed at Sirius who was shamelessly pouting now.
"Oh my god you are so needy."
"I am not—" Sirius stopped, then changed tactics immediately. "Fine, let's make a deal. I'll go get the books for you. You don't even have to move."
Mary looked up sharply. "I cannot believe Black is offering to go to the library."
Remus was watching him now, very much amused.
"I already have the books," he said after a moment. "Fabian lent them to me."
"Oh," he said, a bit too quickly. "Right."
Then, just as fast— "Well, even better," he added, leaning back again. "Stay."
Remus hesitated for a second. Then he sat back down.
And just like that, Sirius felt absurdly, inexplicably pleased with himself.
"Good decision" he said.
"Five minutes," Remus warned, opening his book. "I give you five minutes, if you can stay quiet, I'll stay."
"I'm excellent at being quiet," Sirius said confidently.
Lily snorted. "That's new."
Mary stretched, sliding off the arm of Sirius's chair. "Right, I'm not staying here to witness this tragic attempt at self-control."
"It won't last," Lily agreed, pushing herself up from the sofa.
Sirius waved a hand dismissively. "Go away. You're ruining the atmosphere."
Lily and Mary kept laughing while heading toward the stairs. Their voices faded as they climbed.
Sirius ignored them, grabbing the Muggle book he'd stolen from Remus's trunk the moment they'd unpacked.
Remus glanced at it immediately. "Is that my book?"
Sirius smiled innocently. "I thought we were being quiet."
For about three minutes, things were quiet.
Then Sirius shifted. Then he leaned sideways. Then decided to sit on the floor instead of the couch.
Remus sighed, finally glancing at him. "Do you ever sit still?"
"Why would I?"
Remus shook his head, but there was a flicker of something there, amusement, maybe, before he turned back to his book.
A second later, without looking up, he said,
"Padfoot, I can tell when you're staring at me."
Sirius didn't hesitate. "I'm not. I am absolutely reading. And how do you know I'm staring if you're also not staring at me dear Moony?"
That got him another unimpressed look.
"You're not that interesting." Remus said trying not to smile.
Sirius's grin only widened. "Keep telling yourself that."
Remus rolled his eyes. But he didn't get up.
Sirius felt so at ease with his head resting at the couch, reading a few pages every now and then and knowing that whenever he raises his eyes from his book, he will see Remus, right across, reading.