Bad Luck

by sadgorl

Summary:

normalcy. remus lupin has always craved normalcy. so he keeps his life at home in wales, where he’s a normal muggle boy with normal muggle friends and normal muggle interests separate from his school life, of magic, mischief, and deception. the only thing allowed to cross the threshold? his skateboard. however, he tries desperately to hide it from his friends, for fear of his favorite, normal muggle interest being taken from him, his space being violated. too bad sirius black has shaken up his entire worldview, and he can’t keep his friends out forever.

Chapter 1: Stuck on Last Thursday

He got his first skateboard at age seven. It was a way to get out of the house, a way to meet kids in the neighborhood. It was something to keep him from getting into trouble, according to his parents. They got it from the parents of one of the kids in the neighborhood, an older bloke who was around 14 and had moved on to a longboard. His name was Justin, and he was frequently around, his mam was often Remus’s babysitter when Hope and Lyall were both out of the house. His mam was a lovely woman, who, just like Hope, let the boys out of the house to romp around the neighborhood without supervision. Justin had a younger brother, also age seven, who Remus liked to romp around with. His name was Daniel, and he and Remus did everything.

He was seven, and everything was new to him. He was far too young to be running around as he was, but with Justin and Daniel, he could do anything. He knew it too. It was why he threw his entire heart into skating. It wasn’t like he could stop, even if he had wanted to. For Remus, riding a skateboard was love at first fall. That first moment, where he was reminded of the stability and stationary, constant nature of the Earth. His deck allowed him to skim the surface, but every fall reminded him of how real everything was. But then, he went on to ride. He could fall over and over again, but so long as he could get up, he could do anything. He could feel the wind in his hair and the pliable wood under his feet. It was beautiful and new and chaotic and he loved it. He loved it more than he had probably ever loved anything at the tender age of seven. He loved it so much that when he returned home, worn out from the skate, with scrapes all over him, all he could tell his parents was that he couldn’t wait to do it again tomorrow.

Remus’s youth was a whirlwind of learning to skate, and for Remus, it was his first real love. It was a source of stability in Bangor. It was a community of people he cared about. He ran with Daniel and Justin, and all of their friends. They were a tight-knit group, that picked each other up, dusted each other off, and with a laugh reminded them of their resiliency. It was something Remus looked back on with a fondness he didn’t know he could possess. When he thought about that first moment, when he felt invincible, only to fall clean off of his board he realized that that was what life was truly about. It was about the adrenaline of trying something new and failing, only to laugh and get back up. Justin became much more than a friend’s brother, but a mentor in street skating and an older brother figure Remus didn’t know he was missing. Daniel became much more than a neighborhood friend he romped around with. Instead, Daniel became the best mate, someone who was there when he fell, had a laugh, and helped him back up.

Justin had taught Remus everything in those few years, between seven and eleven. There had been long nights out in the neighborhood, skating around shopping malls and causing an absolute ruckus. The two younger boys often tagged along with Justin and his friends, with the promise of being fine, they’re not gonna snitch. Justin had told everyone he had taken them on as prodigies, and he had pushed them. He forced them outside their comfort zones, forcing them to reckon with their own mortality a few times, and the fact that if they never tried, they’d never measure up to the skaters of the past. They would never measure up anyways, Remus often thought, but that didn’t stop him from dreaming like the little romantic Hope had raised him to be, with dreams much bigger than he was, dreams far beyond the bounds of the wolf. He just wanted to be able to do what others before him had paved the way for, with half pipes and street skates and fun. He had been chased away by constables so many times, and yet he got a rush every time he jumped a number of stairs or learned a new grind. He had learned everything from Justin, and he had no problem saying so. When asked where he got his scars, he had found an excuse, and the only person who knew the wiser was the boy who taught him everything he knew, and Justin was as tight-lipped as a friend could come. Justin who taught him when it was time to bail, and when he needed to go for it. Justin, who helped him turn a small town in Gwynedd into a skate park all his own, quickly became Remus’s best friend.

When Remus turned eleven, everything changed. Bangor was home and a strange man had told his parents he was to be sent away. Sent to a school for people like him. A school for people who could repair their trucks with the right look and could make things happen that didn’t happen to other people. Remus knew he was different because of the wolf. He knew he was different, because of his father. He knew to be tight-lipped, to never tell people what his father did or how he got to work. He knew that a day could come when he had to pack it all in and leave Bangor. But he wasn’t ready, and he knew it. He was freshly eleven, and he had so many adventures to get into with his friends. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay with Justin and Daniel, to keep riding around the streets of their city, speaking their native tongue, and loving as deeply and as truly as he could with his board. If he was gone, who would help him maintain his backside pop shove-it? Who would remind him that he’s goofy-footed and that his front foot is too far forward? Remus remembered being afraid before he left. He was afraid of leaving this home behind.

Justin and Daniel got the same story all of the kids in the neighborhood had. That he was going to some smarmy boarding school, full of posh brats because his mum wanted something more for him than Bangor could offer. They understood, of course. Remus had always been good in school, which was something Daniel was jealous of. It made sense that he had been offered a place at some pretentious boarding school, as some way to reach previously un-reachable kids. Bangor was full of those kinds of kids. It made sense, for their reputation as a charitable institution, to seek out kids from as far as Bangor, especially someone like Remus, with good grades, who hung out around children classed as problematic. Sure, he was only eleven, but Justin was seventeen. Justin was his idol and he was never considered a model student. Kids like Remus were perfect for an initiative such as this, even if Remus didn’t want to be smarmed up at boarding school. Remus didn’t want to go. He remembered that every time he thought back to those few months between Dumbledore’s arrival, and the first days at school.

He packed his board and his trunk, trying hard to remember that he wouldn’t have his mam to comfort him after the moons, or a romp around the city with his friends to blow off extra aggression in the days leading up. He tried to remember that he wasn’t leaving forever when he left and that his friends had always assured that he had a place among them when he returned. Bangor would still be there, but Hogwarts wouldn’t wait. So he packed his meager things and left. He made friends faster than he thought he would, but it didn’t mean he didn’t desperately miss Justin and Daniel. He desperately missed affectionately being called Laces, because rumor had it that he learned to skate before he learned to tie his shoes. He missed the culture of it, the friends he made, and the way his heart skipped a beat when he had a perfect run– without slamming on any tricks.

That was how it had all begun. But now, five years later, everything was different. He had made friends on the train, despite his best efforts not to. He was glad for them, really. James and Sirius had decided to befriend a decidedly unfriendly Remus Lupin, and it had worked out for them. Sure, he had spent most of that first ride staring longingly out the window, missing Daniel and Justin, and the feeling of his skateboard beneath his feet. Sure, he missed the routine he had barely left not twelve hours earlier. But the two had decided he would be there friend, and when they were sorted into the same house, Remus couldn’t help his sigh of relief. It would be nice, to have some semblance of friendship, some people who could distract him from the things he left behind. Remus remembered being thankful for this small bit of good fortune. However, only very shortly after, he remembered the wolf, and he was no longer thankful. It wasn’t that the wolf wasn’t constantly pressing against the back of his eyelids, it was more so the fact that even though the wolf was there, he had decided to be distracted by other things. He was much more focused on his friends forgetting him than anything else, for that first train ride.

Remus remembered the first time those fears were quelled when returned to Bangor for Christmas. He was lucky, that the full was a few days before the end of the term. He was lucky to have created a routine here, with friends he would miss upon his return to his home city. But that didn’t stop him from the joy he felt, practically beaming the entire way home. He remembered the way his friends picked on him on that train ride.

“Remus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this happy! Not even when we flooded the dungeons and all of Slytherin house had to evacuate!” James had started, and it wasn’t long until the other two boys were joining in. Remus knew it was all in good fun, they’d exchanged gifts in the morning and all been invited to the Potter home for their Christmas celebration. He also remembered the question that brought his world to a grinding halt.

“Do you have some bird back home that you haven’t told us about, mate?” Leave it to Sirius to ask something so completely out of bounds. Perhaps it was because he had noticed the other boys developing crushes on the girls around them, holding hands with them, and creating some kind of relationship with them. He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of it made him feel ill.

“Nah, just my mates.”

“Remus I’m offended. We’re your mates. Not some muggles.”

“You know I can have mates outside the Marauders, right?”

“I guess,” Sirius whined, but he was quickly cut off by James. “Are they muggles? What are they like? You’ve been holding out on us Remus!”

Remus recalled telling them about all sorts of things, like telephones and television, the type of music they listened to. The only thing he really neglected to mention was skating. That was something he had reserved for himself, something that remained a part of his home life, that he had divorced from school. It was too personal, too important. Remus remembered being scared they would tattle unintentionally or spread it around the school like wildfire. He was afraid they’d tell everyone that he was, as one of his teachers had once said to his mam, a burnout waiting to happen. Remus remembered that being the first day he was confused about girls. Particularly about how he felt about them. He remembered being frustrated because he didn’t know why the idea of them made him so uncomfortable. But the question was long gone from his mind when he returned home. He saw his friends again, and before he knew it they were back to skating across the concrete and remembering all the fun they had in the past.

Those breaks in the semester were necessary for Remus. He needed the reprieve of going home, of seeing Daniel and Justin. He needed to get away from all the magic and the rules, get away from what he was in a society that had cast people like him out. He needed to feel like he belonged again, in a way he felt like he never would at school. Remus loved his summers at home, surrounded by his mates. He loved that he had friends to come home to, people who never made him feel different or weird. He missed the streets of Bangor, and the way they sung underneath his trucks. That sweet song of those wheels was like coming back home, and he loved being reminded of it every time he returned.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Remus is trying to keep skating a private affair, but failing spectacularly. three interactions in fourth year prove as much to him. he can’t seem to keep everything together. not like this.

Remus was a forth year when everything caught up to him. His nights out of bounds had gotten wilder, and the first time he thought that skating would be taken from him, was when he woke up in the hospital wing outside of the bounds of the moon. He hadn’t even begun to explain himself when Madam Pomfrey pulled out his skateboard.

“You’re lucky I don’t turn this over to Mister Filch, Remus.” She took on a tone that reminded him of his mom. All soft lilts in her voice, but with a sternness that reminded him that he had done something wrong, and was being subtly reprimanded for it.

“Please,” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, “i– please– there’s nothing in the rules about skating and I just need it. I have nothing fucking else, Madam Pomfrey, I just need some semblance of normalcy.”

“I worried about your adjustment to being here. Albus said you’d be fine, but I can’t imagine it’s easy to keep a secret such as your own.” It was then that he was reminded of McGonnagal. It was in the way she sounded like she was teaching him something instead of punishing him for his actions. “But if I catch you unconscious and out of bounds again, I will not hesitate to turn it over, Master Lupin. You’ve got a long day of recovery ahead of you. I trust you’ll stay off of it until your concussion has fully healed.”

He wanted to nod with fervor at that, but his head throbbed too badly. So instead he watched her put the board aside and out of view of anyone who came walking in. He was thankful for that, particularly when his merry band of comrades waltzed into the hospital wing. He doesn’t want to talk to them– he really doesn’t. Sure, they were nice to him. They found out about his secret and didn’t care. That had been kind of them, and he knew it. They could have told everyone. They could have turned their back on him, and gotten him expelled. But they didn’t. Instead, they had affectionately nicknamed him after it and had even named his secret. They called it his furry little problem. It was kind, he knew that. But he couldn’t fight the bile rising in his throat that he was in this hospital wing, not having Daniel pour water over his head until he woke up. He hated that he wasn’t at home in Gwynedd. He hated that he hadn’t been more careful. Because they could find out, and it would throw his balance off. It would change his entire center of gravity if they knew he was sneaking out of the dormitory to go skate. They might try to stop him, they might try to tag along, and at this point, Remus was unsure which would be worse.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Peter’s soft voice cuts through his panicked haze. “Moony, you’ve gotta stop ending up in the hospital wing.”

“Yeah, at this rate people might think you’re in love with Poppy,” James added.

“I resent that,” Remus muttered, his eyes trained on a spot on the wall in front of him. He didn’t know why his chest had that same vice grip feeling like something was deeply wrong with the statement. But instead of saying anything, he did his best to shake it off. These were his friends after all. It was fine for friends to take the piss. He’d be fine.

“What even happened Moony? Evans apparently found you on her morning rounds.”

“Yeah! My girl’s worried sick over you, Moons!”

“Firstly, and I hate to be the one to break this to you, she’s not your girl.” Remus starts, trying to give himself the time to come up with some excuse. “I was walking around with the map last night, trying to finish it, and I tripped. Must’ve smacked my head pretty hard.”

Sirius leered at him like he knew Remus wasn’t quite telling the truth, and for a split second, he panicked over the deck behind the bed, painted with the phases of the moon. Thre was no way they’d believe it belonged to anyone but him, and he knew it.

“Mates, don’t you have a charms lesson you need to get to.”

“Fuck.” And then the three boys are running off. Remus couldn’t be more thankful. Now he only had to have Poppy release him from the hospital wing, and he’d be home fucking free. But given that after they leave, the healer does not return, he realized he probably wasn’t going back his dormitory just yet. So instead he closes his heavy eyes, and begins to run through how he’s feeling. Why does his chest tighten when is mates mention dating birds. Sure, a few years ago when it began, he could justify it as being because of his age. But he was fourteen now, and it was getting less and less easy to use those same justifications. Why wasn’t he interested? He felt like he should be. His thoughts begin to travel, as they always do, to a particular pair of storm grey eyes, that seem to hold some secret deep within them. He recognizes it, because it’s a look he wears so well. And yet, he can’t push himself to think more about it— it scares him too much. So instead he thrashes a bit on the bed, trying to fall asleep. But sleep does not come to him, not that it ever has easily. Too often, he has a thrumming in his veins that he can only quell on concrete, too afraid of not getting away fast enough. What he needs to get away from remains to be seen. After all, he only has snippets of memories of Greyback. So when fiery red hair enters the periphery of his half lidded eyes, he immediately is put on the defensive. Sure, he liked Lily. But he didn’t know why she was here, nor what she wanted. They were friendly, but they weren’t really friends.

“You gave me quite the fright this morning.”

“Good morning to you too, Evans.”

“Are you really so arrogant that you can’t wear a helmet, Lupin?”

“What do I need a helmet for? I tripped.”

“You’re full of shite and you know it. I’m not stupid, Remus. You, of all people, should know that.”

He sighs in defeat. “Lils, please don’t tell anyone. I just— I wanna keep stuff like home and stress relief kind of off limits here.” There was no one Remus would dare trust more than Lily Evans. She was smart and loyal, and from their long hours in the library together, he knew she valued him as a friend.

“Alright.” She sighs in return, a look of endearment across her face. It reminded him of Erika. Erika, who, just like Justin, has picked him up so many times after he fell. “One condition.”

“Alright, what's the condition?” He hoped, in vain, that the desperation wasn’t sinking into his voice.

“Come get me when you wanna go for a late night stroll. Buddy system an’ all that. Someone’s gotta get help if you crack your head open again.”

“Fine, but breathe a word of this to James and you’re dead to me.”

This was a deal Remus could live with. Lily was a muggle. She understood. The two didn’t mix. The closest they had ever gotten was a few odd letters exchanged between him and Daniel, or him and Justin, all of which involved questioning why his school didn’t have a bloody telephone. It was something he only spoke about with Lily Evans. Lily understood him in a way the other marauders often didn’t. She understood why he missed the comforts of home, the things that his friends probably never would. She accompanied him on late-night skates, because, according to her, he could get hurt, and then who would heal him so he didn’t wake up in the hospital wing. Lily tended to roast him for how much he kept in his pockets, and the fact that he would forgo any and all wizarding clothes, in favor of his soft trackies and a beanie. She told him so often, that he looked like a proper skater as if he wasn’t one already. Shee also tended to lay into him for his outright refusal to wear a helmet, but at this point, it had become quite endearing. She was a prefect, and she covered for him when he was out of bounds. It was nice, to have someone who understood.

It was nice, up until she made him confront his feelings. “You skate when you’re trying to process your feelings.” It was a statement, not a question. As if she was informing him of something. That was different if you asked Remus.

“And?”

“Just wondering what you’re processing.”

“None of your business, red.”

“C’mon, Remus. Enlighten me.”

“You can keep a secret?”

“I keep secrets for you all the time.”

“‘S about Sirius, who I know you don’t like.”

“Lay it on me.”

He takes a deep breath to steel himself against what he’s about to do. “I’m–“ i think i have a crush on him. coward. “worried about him. coping the way he does can’t be healthy.”

“skating out of bounds every night for four weeks and making your mates repair a board you broke in a rage is also not healthy, Remus.”

“Sirius has a lot more emotional range than me. I have for moods, silent brooding, loud brooding, silent skating, loud skating.”

“skating isn’t a mood.”

“it is now.”

She looked at him like she knew something he didn’t, but the conversation was laid to rest. He wasn’t budging on this one. He was too afraid of it getting out. It wasn’t exactly like being bent was acceptable.

It was their fifth year when his friends started to catch on. He was fifteen when he stopped trying to keep his head down around them. He had spent the last four years sneaking out of the dorm and running off to blow off steam on his board. He knew he wasn’t really supposed to, he’d been caught by prefects more than once, but what else was he supposed to do? He needed some way to decompress when Snape was snooping around, whispering about the faggot in the marauders. Often times, that same rumor went around about Sirius, but the boy maintained a parade of girls in their year who were interested, and no one really believed it. People had no problem believing that the prefect who spent all his time sneaking around alone and had never had a girlfriend was bent. It was all mounting pressure. His mam was starting to get sick, his classes were so hard, his condition tore him up repeatedly, and he worried about the safety of the marauders. All of it felt like too much. He needed a way to relax when everything was off-kilter, and he missed the rough concrete against his hands when he fell, or the sound of his wheels spinning beneath his feet. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of– he knew that. But he was surrounded by wizards. A particular three of whom didn’t understand the muggle world at all, let alone the niche interest of skate culture. And besides, skating was a safe space for him. It was a part of his life that he kept closed off, like how he spoke welsh exclusively at home, or how he never talked about his friends.

Remus also liked the freedom the map had afforded him, he could skate through the grounds and the halls, attempting trick after trick, as a way to get acquainted with the secrets of the castle. He could make sure no one was coming when he needed to. But on the night they found out, he had left the map behind, left Lily behind, in favor of some much needed alone time. He had been trying and failing to figure himself out. He wanted to know what it meant when his eyes caught the way Sirius’s bone structure in the dappled sunlight of their dorm. He wanted to know why he couldn’t look away. He wanted to know why every time Sirius flirted with Marlene it made him angry. He wanted to know why it felt like his stomach was fluttering every time Sirius opened his mouth. But he knew why. He knew this was how James talked about Lily, he recognized that he looked at Sirius the way Justin looked at his girlfriend Erika. He wanted to know why this had happened to him. He was trying to grind out his frustration in the grip tape, with the fervor of every pop shove-it landed and every heelflip that he primo’d or pushed too far. Why did he have to be the poof of the friend group? It wasn’t until Sirius stepped into his way, and he slammed on the hard stone floor, that he realized he hadn’t been paying enough attention.

“Moony! What the hell are you doing?”

Frustration, resentment, irritation, and so much more began to bubble up within him. Here was Sirius, bloody beautiful Sirius, forcing him out of his groove, and injecting himself into Remus’s safe space. His alone time. “What the fuck does it look like?” Well, maybe he didn’t have to be so rude. Perhaps it was a genuine question, but Remus couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when Sirius was staring at him

“It looks like you neglected to mention that you’re a bloody skateboarder. What the fuck, mate? I thought we weren’t doing secrets anymore. We became animagi for you Moony! How could you hold out on us with something so bloody cool?”

Remus suppressed a cringe at the term skateboarder because it just wasn’t something people said. He knew it was some part of the skater in him that did so, with all of his lessons in skate etiquette (the dumb shit you need to know not to say was the name of that particular lesson) that had impressed this opinion on him. “It wasn’t a secret. It just isn’t something I mentioned. Besides, what’s it to you, Sirius?”

A look of recognition passed over Sirius’s face, and Remus noticed the way his eyebrows furrowed as if he was growing cross.

“Why are you being such a tosser, Remus? How’d you even learn this? I don’t know a single other wizard who owns a skateboard.”

“You do know I had a life before you, before this smarmy, stuffy old place, before any of this shit. God, sometimes everyone here makes me just want to go!”

And with that, he was off. He grabbed his board and ran, before jumping back on to get some much-needed air time. It was tiring to run from everything all the time. Remus couldn’t help it, of course. Not when he had so much to hide, with his friends constantly pulling pranks that only ever seemed to put his secrets on the line. This was something people could take away from him. He wasn’t willing to take the risk. The final weeks of the term came and went, with Remus not mentioning it a single time to Sirius. He wasn’t willing to talk about it, and he knew Sirius wasn’t going to bring it up until Remus decided they were done fighting.

He didn’t know that Sirius watched him leave, arms wrapped around himself in a self soothing position, and wishing he hadn’t put Remus in that position. He didn’t know that Sirius understood keep something tucked away because of a self preservation instinct. He didn’t know that Sirius resolved not to tell anyone while he was watching Remus, or that he thought it was fantastic that his moony had something that made him smile that wide. But it was okay that he didn’t know, because Sirius didn’t know how to tell him.

Chapter 3: i'm not coming home

Summary:

sirius runs from home, and his first point of contact is remus lupin, his estranged best mate. in the fallout of the prank, remus responds to the call the only way he knows how, on his skateboard.

When Sirius ran from home, Remus was the first point of contact. It wouldn’t be unfair to say Remus had asked for that responsibility when he tucked his mother’s business card into Sirius’s leather jacket every time he looked worse for the wear. Sirius with his smarmy, stuffy family practices and his sunken, sad grey eyes, had made Remus begin to reconsider keeping skating a secret long before that fateful phone call. Remus, in all of his broken-down sadness, and his insecurity brought on by the condition recognized something in his expressions, which were devoid of any real feeling. It was like his best mate decided to put on a mask, and that hurt Remus deeply. Not because he was angry with Sirius, but because he wanted Sirius to trust him. Remus recognizes the lack of trust and had tried time and time again to convince Sirius that his life was worth living in full, away from the paralyzing fear that kept him up at night. But Sirius had brushed it off with silencing charms and a sad smile, and dismissed the problem entirely. “it’s not that bad, moons.” he always promised, but Remus was inclined not to believe him. He was inclined to disagree, every time Sirius cast a glamor, or every time he flinched when someone yelled at him. It wasn’t like Remus didn’t notice. He was far more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. But he didn’t want to pry. He hated when others pried into his own life, and he assumed it was the same for Sirius. If Sirius wanted to tell him, he would. So instead, every time his chest ached for Sirius, or his stomach felt like it was full of butterflies because Sirius looked at him, or every time his skin went alight because Sirius was touching him, Remus said nothing. He said nothing because there was nothing to say. Sirius was his best mate, with some personal problems unfolding, and it was none of Remus’s business if he didn’t want to talk about it. He swallowed his pride, his courage, his voice. And instead, said nothing, did nothing. But every time he and Sirius ended up in an embrace, he held him just a little bit tighter, and a little bit closer. He pushed his mother’s business card, as a muggle social worker, into Sirius’s hands and his jackets for emergencies, and they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t speak, because there were no words. Instead, they remained silent, with silent exchanges and muffled tears passed between them like love letters.

That was, until the prank. The prank set everything in motion, everything changed after it. Everything was different because Sirius tried to make him a killer. Remus never wanted to hurt anyone, never wanted anything like that to go wrong. But Sirius had opened the door for Remus to hurt someone, had allowed Snape, of all people, into their monthly ritual. It was painful and cruel and Remus resolved never to tell him another secret. He didn’t tell him about the anxiety attacks that consumed him every time Snape was around, nor the insurmountable guilt he felt after every moon. He didn’t talk to Sirius, nor did he speak to the other marauders. He isolated himself, craving the safety of soul-crushing loneliness. There were no other options, really. Not when Remus had been put at risk like that as if there was nothing to keep him from being expelled from school and thrown into Azkaban. So he decided it was easier to be alone.

But when Sirius ran, Remus was the first point of contact. He saw his mom on the phone with him, watched her face shift into something he’d never seen before, a fear he’d never experienced with her. He heard her voice quiver when he told him it was for him. He watched her call his father and prepare the chimney for travel via floo, should they need it.

She watched him in return, and he knew it. He knew his mum could read the panic on his face, he felt her grab his hand and remind him how to breathe again because oxygen refused to be processed by his lungs when he heard the words “hurt” and “don’t let them take me back there.” So in a haze of fear, he let his father side-along apparate to go rescue the boy who stole his breath and his heart, only to crush it under the knot of the whomping willow. It had only been a few days since the end of term. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to what could have happened and what could have hurt him. He doesn’t know. That feels like the worst part. But when he sees Sirius, slouched and bleeding on a barstool in Gloucester, he does the only thing he can do. He casts Sirius’s arm over his shoulder and helps him to his feet, ushering him out of the muggle pub and into a secluded alley for Lyall to apparate them to the Potter residence. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion and too fast all at once.

“I love,” he heard Sirius mumble, and he wasn’t sure he heard him quite right, “– Moony”

“Love you too, you bloody twat.” His eyes were long past the point of welling with tears. He didn’t want Sirius to know how worried he was, but here was the boy he had been crushing on for over a year, shaking and crying and delirious because he was so hurt. He was trying not to read into the statement– he knew Sirius didn’t feel that way about him. He’d made it fairly clear that he didn’t care when he let out all of Remus’s secrets to Snape. He knew that Sirius didn’t really care, he just didn’t know how to use a telephone. He was trying desperately to remind himself of that when Sirius was crying as they arrived at the Potter’s and begging Remus to stay with him. He knew Sirius didn’t care– he was trying so hard to remind himself of that when their hands were intertwined and Euphemia was trying to convince him he needed to go to Saint Mungo’s.

With a violent sob, James is pulling Sirius against him, and Remus can distantly hear Euphemia telling him that they need to go to the hospital, and when Sirius is back in the house and better, she’ll send an owl. Remus nodded mutely, allowing his father to gently guide him away, and apparate him home. Remus can feel himself collapsing into tears and screams, but he doesn’t know what to do. He never really had an idea on how to deal with his emotions. So he does what he always did, he grabbed his board and ran. He ran to Daniel’s house and knocked on the door, with shaking hands and red-rimmed eyes. Daniel, ever the sensitive friend, opened the door and understood. He understood that Remus needed to just get out, to remind himself of the security of Bangor and that the world was not crashing down around him. So they skated until the sun went down, and when it did, he helped Remus load their rinky-dink old ramp into the car. He was thankful he had these friends, who understood what he needed. He was thankful, even when he heard Daniel whisper “If this doesn’t make that bloke fall in love with you, there’s no hope for the rest of us” and his heart skipped a beat.

Remus drove all night, in his mam’s beat-up old car. He knew he could take the floo, shrink the ramp, and make it an easier, quicker mode of travel. But Remus needed that time, alone behind the wheel of the car, to collect his thoughts. Was he really doing this? Would Sirius even want this? He hadn’t heard from the Potter’s yet, that Sirius was out of the hospital, but part of him didn’t care. He’d sit on their front steps for the rest of the week if it meant he didn’t have to spend all of his time worrying over whether or not Sirius would be okay. He would rather throw up than be in his bed right now, tossing and turning because he just didn’t know.

When he arrived, Remus had little more than a skateboard strapped to his backpack, and his uniform of jeans, a hoodie, a beanie, and a denim jacket, and a few extras of the same outfit in his backpack. He knew that this version of himself was foreign to his friends. They didn’t recognize him when he looked like this. He wasn’t exactly stupid. And they weren’t exactly well integrated into the muggle world. It would be dumb to think that he’d look like he belonged upon arrival. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t– because he didn’t have time to think through the clothes he was bringing, he didn’t have time to think through the plan before he left. That was what the drive was for. And, if he was as unlucky as he felt, the subsequent waiting on the stairs leading into the Potter’s home. He knows no one is home when he gets there. There are no lights on in the house, no sound coming from inside. So he sits, and he waits. He waits until the sun sets again, with his weak stomach lurching every time he thought about leaving to grab some food, and a bar of chocolate untouched in his pocket. He waits, staring down at his beat-up Chuck Taylors, his patterned socks, and his frayed second-hand jeans that were ripped at the knees from all of the falling he had done off of his board. He can’t stop thinking about the haunted look on Sirius’s face, or the bruises blooming on his aristocratic cheekbones and the way blood had matted in his hair. His mind only stops replaying the image when a loud CRACK breaks up his thoughts, and Sirius, James, and Euphemia and Fleamont are before him.

“Siri– I- uh–” Remus can’t find the words and he’s floundering. He’s floundering because Sirius is still covered in bruises that could have been healed so easily, which is symptomatic of a larger issue. He notices that James is ushering his parents inside, leaving an emotionless Sirius outside on the steps with Remus. Remus wanted him to react. He wanted him to notice that he was here, dressed like a muggle and skateboard in hand, the phases of the moon painted on the underside glaring up at him as if daring him to keep talking. But Sirius doesn’t say anything. Instead, he carded his fingers through his hair and continued staring off into some unknown space. Remus felt bad he felt wrong for showing up, and even more wrong for being here.

But then Sirius is cupping his chin and tilting it up, with a curious look on his face. He’s initiated a touch that Remus is not going to back down from. He refuses to. Not when the look in Sirius’s sad eyes has gone from distant to endearing, and his lips are forming the words, “I meant it.” That’s all it takes for Remus to press forward, connecting their lips in a chaste, sweet kiss. “Me too.” He whispered back, shaking hands fallen at his sides. He doesn’t know what to do, not really. He doesn’t know how much touching is okay or if Sirius even wanted physical contact. He just simply doesn’t know.

“I – I didn’t know how to say it– so I brought a ramp.” He whispers, in the small space between their lips.

“You didn’t know how to tell me that we were okay and that you wanted this so you brought a ramp to teach me how to be a badass skateboarder like you?” Sirius asks, with a laugh that reminded Remus of the long nights planning pranks in the common room, and Remus doesn’t even have to suppress the urge to laugh this time. Instead, his eyes were welling with tears, and before he even knows what’s going on, Sirius’s rough, calloused hands meet his cheeks and he’s wiping them away. “I know it’s dumb, Pads. I really do, but I don’t know how to do this. I don’t even know what I can do I–”

“Re, I’ll stop you any time. Don’t cry, yeah. Healers got me fixed up just right.”

Remus feels his shoulders relax, and his arms are winding around the other boy before he can stop himself. He buried his head in Sirius’s chest, breathing him in the way he hadn’t allowed himself to for years. All of the nights when Sirius fell asleep waiting up for him after the moon, all of the gentle touches that lit his skin on fire with passion and want couldn’t measure up to this moment, with Sirius all around him, safe, and for once, understanding what he wanted.

“Moons,” Sirius’s voice feels like it rumbles from deep within his chest, and Remus LOVES it. He loves the way it makes him feel surrounded and warm and like he had done something right. “You’ve gotta teach me a fakie bet flip.”

“Let’s get you on a board first, you bloody plonker.” But then they’re kissing again and Remus knows he’s experienced magic before but never like this. This was the kind of magic his mom had told him about in the stories of his youth, the kind of magic he experienced that first day on a board in Bangor, that first time he landed a kickflip. This was magic that was stronger and more powerful than anything he had produced in charms class.

After a few more blissful moments outside, the boys hear the click of the door and jump apart. They’re being ushered in by Euphemia, her smile wide and her tone inviting, and she’s telling them about the beds made up for them in the rooms beside James’s. But it doesn’t even matter, because Remus can’t hear over the thrumming of his heart in his ears, can’t see past the lovesick gaze Sirius is throwing his way, can’t think beyond the one he’s returning. It feels perfect.

The two boys spend the night together in bed, barely getting any sleep. Everytime Remus feels his eyes closing and his mind go silent, he’s jolted awake by Sirius screaming, and every time Sirius does the same, he’s jolted awake by Remus whimpering. Remus wonders if the two of them will ever be able to sleep in the same bed without muffling themselves with a silencing charm, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when Sirius’s arm is carelessly thrown across him, and he smells like ink and earth and firewood. No, Remus would probably never be able to pull himself from this bed, so long as Sirius was in it.

The next day, they’re forcibly ejected from the bedroom. Not by any magic or any kind of nightmare, but instead by James screaming for Remus.

“Moony! Get your arse down here right fuckin’ now!”

“Language!” Fleamont calls from the kitchen. And with that, Remus and Sirius are detangling their long limbs with an embarrassed smile, although neither one is really feeling ashamed of the compromising position they were removing themselves from. Remus finds himself bounding down the stairs, Sirius falling behind with the tenderness of his limbs and muscles and his limp. But Remus didn’t notice, too focused on the way James was mall-grabbing his board and swinging it around the kitchen.

“What in Merlin’s name is this thing, Moony?”

“‘S a skateboard.” He finds himself muttering, his fingers pressing crescent moon shapes into his palm in frustration. He knew coming here meant he’d have to be more open about this part of himself, and stop hoarding it as if it would go away should someone else see it. But that didn’t make this encounter any easier.

“Moony’s gonna teach us, Prongs. It’s cool, promise.” Remus nods curtly as if punctuating Sirius’s point. He goes to agree, but he’s cut off by Euphemia calling them to the table for breakfast.

When the three boys finally make it outside, after food, and quite a few draughts and potions for Sirius, Remus can’t help how nervous he feels. He’s summoned the ramp from inside his car, and placed it on the pavement outside the steps to the Potter home. He’s trying to tune out James’s rambling about how excited he is to see what the hell this thing even does. He usually tuned people out when he was skating entirely, so this wasn’t anything new. What was new was the fact that he was about to let two other boys, with no skill on a board, test his out. And then he’d have to give them pointers on how to get better. But he doesn’t need to think about that. So instead he just pushes off, flies off the ramp, and manages a backside pop shove-it heel flip. He turns to look at his friends, only to see their eyes glazed over with awe, and their hands clapping together in some weird, high society applause. He turns and skates back over, an inquisitive look on his face.

“Don’t be weird about this shit, god.”

“Don’t invoke a muggle deity on us, Remus! We’re just impressed.” Leave it to Sirius, to make him laugh with such an idiotic statement. It was unfair, in Remus’s eyes, that he could do that. It was unfair that Sirius made his hands sweat and his knees weak with a look, or a laugh, or a touch. It felt ridiculous and completely uncool, so he tried to suppress it.

“Merlin’s beard, Moony. Is that thing even safe?”

“We’ve done worse, Prongs.” Came Remus’s short reply. He didn’t like it when people spoke of skateboarding like it was skydiving, nor did he like it when people made it out to be simple and require little skill. It was a learned behavior, not a natural talent, and Remus had worked to get as good as he was. But James wouldn’t be convinced, making his way back inside with the excuse of writing Peter and Lily so they’d stop worrying. Remus was thankful he and Sirius would get some time alone, if nothing else, although he had no intention of actually letting him on his board in the condition he was in.

An hour later, and Remus isn’t sure how they got there. He doesn’t know when Sirius convincing him to let him try, but they had spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out which way Sirius should stand on the board, hands clutched tightly for stability, and trying to get the hang of simply going straight. If you asked Remus, going straight was much more than he probably should be doing right now, with the sheer number of injuries he had racked up, but Sirius assured him that he could take care of his own health. Remus tried instructing him on how to propel the board forward, and for a while, it looked like it might work. That was until Sirius hit a pebble, and fell on Remus, pinning him to the ground.

“Bloody hell, mate. You’re too tall for skateboarding. I’ve decided I can’t teach you.”

“Oh yeah?” Sirius countered, “Alright, Moony. Don’t teach me.” He pressed his lips to Remus’s sweetly. “But then you’re not getting another kiss, as long as I live.”

“I’ve lasted the last three years, you might need a better threat than that.” The two dissolves into a fit of giggles and Remus began to wonder why he’d kept skating a secret from Sirius in the first place. Clearly, it wasn’t something that Sirius thought was dumb or ridiculous, so why hide?

Chapter 4: Keep your thoughts by your pillow

Summary:

the beginning of the term scares the shit out of remus. what was sirius to him? what would the marauders do with remus’s suddenly accessible skill set? how much trouble was he willing to get in

The summer came and went, and when the boys returned to school for their final year, Remus notices something in the dorm that he’d never seen before. A board beside Sirius’s bed, emblazoned with a black dog and quite a few stickers. Remus thought it was fitting, matching up quite well to the board beside his own bed, with all of its iridescent moons and its stark black background. He wondered how much Sirius had picked up during the summer if he had picked up anything at all. Remus wondered if the board was for show, the same way he ripped his jeans or scuffed his shoes for show. Something about it being a “statement” he had picked up from his minimal consumption of muggle culture, exclusively relegated to rolling stone magazine. He knew Sirius had tried to learn over the summer, he read it in his letters, but he also knew that James was keeping him from skating whenever he could, for fear of Sirius getting hurt, which was something he learned from James’s letters. He wondered how the events that took place that summer would change things, but one thing was for sure, he wasn’t ready to face it. Unlike his usual course of action, which was to disappear into the shadows and go skate, when Remus noticed James and Sirius were approaching. He wanted to disappear. He didn’t want to think about the sweet letters or the kind words or the secretive kisses exchanged under the cover of darkness in Sirius’s room at the Potter’s. He didn’t want to think about it, because he didn’t know what any of that meant for them right now. So he hid because he had no choice. His scrawny form is tucked under the bed in an instant, and he can feel his heart beating against his chest. He doesn’t know when he got so fucking scared of his friends. Sure, he’d always kept them at arm’s length, they weren’t anything like the kids he ran with back in Bangor, but that didn’t mean he was afraid. It just made him smart. Smart enough to know that the smarmy gits, for as much as he truly did care for them, probably would never think of him as on their level. Remus was rough around the edges, with his accent and his second-hand school supplies, his chewed pencils, and his moth-eaten robes. He didn’t fit in with them, and he probably never would. The wolf wasn’t even the problem– the thing that kept him separate– it was him. All of him. The fact that he was just a kid from Bangor trying to make something of himself. That was what separated him from Sirius and James, with their lavish homes and their new clothes, new books, and lavish quills. Remus could never be like them, and that reality was slowly beginning to set in.

“Moony I know you’re in here.”

Shit. He’d been hiding, sure, but now his breathing had run ragged with the panic brought on by his quarter-life crisis about just how different from them he was. He didn’t know what to do, so he tapped on the side of the bed, as if to say ‘down here, can’t talk.’ But Sirius is much more perceptive than Remus has ever given him credit for, and he knows that something is wrong. At least, Remus assumes he does, because in a moment Sirius is on the floor beside the bed, storm grey eyes locked on him, and a soft smile briefly gracing his face. Long limbs reach out and pull Remus out from under the bed easily, and Remus is reminded just how strong Sirius is. Strong from his hours on the quidditch pitch, taking his bat and sending bludgers flying off in the distance. Sirius was strong, for braving the things he had, his family and his brother, for running and getting out of there. And suddenly, Remus is overcome with guilt. He feels guilty because his eyes have welled with tears and his face is pressed into Sirius’s chest, breathing him in. And it’s hitting him that this is something he can’t have. He can’t have this closeness, he can’t have Sirius’s arms wrapped around him. Not anymore, this is not permanent. Not when he’s so different, and the wolf pulls at his bones every month, tearing him up inside and out, laying him bare like he is standing trial for his sins in the light of the full moon. He can not take the remainder of Sirius’s youth from him, with the drama of his condition and the status of his youth. He can’t seem to stop the tears from coming, but he can feel Sirius’s long fingers carding through his hair.

“Re, love, what’s wrong?”

“I-I can’t,” Remus doesn’t know how to explain what he means, he’s never been good at the whole feelings thing. However, if nothing else, Remus has always been prone to word vomit. The comments come out in hot, acrid, sobs, alphabet soup spelling out poor, different, wolf and Remus has nothing else to lay bare in this space between them, halfway beneath the bed like a frightened child. “I– I can’t do this Siri– I-I-I’m not– I’m poor, and not like you. I– the wolf and panic disorder and depression and all I fucking have is a skateboard–” He forces out, his shaking hands grasping on Sirius’s shirt. He doesn’t know how else to explain it. How else does he explain the fact that he can’t get out of his bed somedays or the way his heart tries to eject itself from his chest and his lungs feel like they’ve collapsed in his chest when his brain moves to fast for his body.

Sirius’s voice sounds smooth like butter and soft against the piercing ringing in his ears. His hands feel like they’re winding the fear, tension, and panic right out of his body. “Re,” he whispers, arms tightening around the shaking boy before him. Remus knows he’s probably scaring Sirius, freaking him out with all of his chaos that he’s kept under wraps for so long. Remus wants, so desperately, to scream out I’m bent! I’m disgusting! Stay away! But he also can’t force himself out of Sirius’s arms. Not when Sirius’s arms feel like home in a way he’s never experienced, save for those few moments when they had their limbs tangled together.

“Re, it’s okay. ‘M not going anywhere. Don’t want to.”

“Sirius you– you can find someone else. Someone with more money, who won’t try to hurt you once a month. Someone who d-doesn’t just disappear for hours at a time because I can’t figure out how to feel about stuff.”

“But Re, don’t you get it?” Sirius began, and Remus feels his body still in rapt attention. “Re, I want you, because you go skate for hours when you need to think, because you deadpan like no fuckin’ other, because your eyes are just as golden as your hair, because your smile is crooked and lights up a room.”

“I don’t–” Remus wants to protest, but he doesn’t even know what to say. So instead, he takes as many deep breaths as he can muster, and tries desperately to calm down. He doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t know what else he can do. So he just tries to calm down, focusing in on Sirius’s fingers twirling through his hair and rubbing circles in his back. When he finally collects himself, he stands up grabs his board and walks towards the door. He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t want to be followed.

“Wanna plan a prank when you get back?”

“Yeah, sure.” He mumbles in return, running off to relax. He makes his way through the castle, and when the Room of Requirement’s door appears before him, he couldn’t be more thrilled. When he opens it, he finds a vert ramp, a five-step, and a few rails. It’s like being home again, and he spends the next few hours trying to perfect any and every trick he could think of. He grinds the rails, pausing every few hours to wax. It felt like a catharsis, like all of the things that he couldn’t figure out how to say were bleeding out of him with every fall, with every landed trick, and with every moment he got to feel that invincibility that came with a jump.

He returns to the dormitories when he’s finally sorted through the haze in his brain, and his friends look overjoyed to see him, but none as much as Sirius. Sirius looks him over, clearly ogling him in full view of the other two marauders, and Remus knows there’s a slight flush rising on his cheeks. He throws himself down on the floor next to Sirius, their thighs brushing slightly. They plan their prank for the beginning of the feast, moving through the planning process with ease. Remus was excited, it was going to be fucking killer if you asked him. And the new skill set that he had given his friends access to afforded the marauders an edge that they never had before.

The next day, Remus begins by pulling on his usual uniform of jeans and a faded t-shirt, and grabbing a pair of sunglasses for good measure. He lets the other marauders know he’s ready, and they get started prepping the rest of the prank. Remus was meant to skate through the hallway, setting off fireworks charms, while the other boys removed the toad choir from Flitwick’s office, and released it upon the beginning of term feast. It was going to be gnarly. He rushes out into the hall to begin his portion of the prank, skating into the kitchens and grabbing himself a bottle of butterbeer. He summoned a straw and popped it into the bottle, and then he was off, setting off fireworks at a rapid pace that the marauders had never had the ability to before.

“A student skateboarding through the hallways? I’ve never heard of such a thing!” McGonnagal’s voice rang loudly in his ear, but he didn’t care. He skated right past her, shouting “Life is a party and I’m the pinata!” continuing on his way proudly. He got such a thrill from it, that he almost didn’t care that it was a success. But after being summoned to McGonagall’s office, and being rewarded with 50 points from Gryffindor and four weeks of detentions, it definitely felt like they had started the year off right. When their sentencing was over, James and Peter valiantly offered to head to the kitchens and steal some food, since they had missed it in their efforts to prank the student body. Remus and Sirius were all too eager to see them go, returning to their dorm with a swiftness they didn’t even know they possessed. In a moment, their lips are pressed together again with the sweet fire that constantly smoldered in Remus’s veins, setting off a reaction he wasn’t sure he was prepared for. Everything felt like too much in the right way and Remus wondered if he had been wrong all those years ago. If maybe this was the meaning of life that he had thought about. Because when they’re in bed together, and Remus is reacquainting himself with the subtle scars that marred Sirius’s smooth skin, and Sirius is retracing the map for freckles and moles with a reverence that rivaled the way Remus revered his board, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Chapter 5: You have no idea how unproductive it is

The end of term was terrifying. In those months, before the NEWTs, everything felt like it was pressing on him, like the pressure of the world was mounting. It made him feel so lonely, like nothing he was doing would ever measure up to the expectations his mam had set for him. She said he could have anything if he worked hard enough for it. She said that the wolf would never hold him back if he didn’t want it to. And for so long, he had believed her. It was only his meeting with McGonagall that made him reconsider the notion. She told him all of the places that wouldn’t hire him because of the wolf, and the only thing that could possibly save him was perfect scores on his NEWTs. It had been a hard pill to swallow, compounded with the fact that a war was mounting all around him, one side threatening to kill people like him while the other continued to cast him aside, like some kind of second class citizen. There was no winning, for him. He could fight for the Order, among all of his friends, or he could say goodbye to those relationships and disappear from the Wizarding World entirely, and be blamed if the Order failed to crush Lord Voldemort and his insurgency group. There were no other choices. The meeting ended with Remus storming out, and jumping on his board to blow off steam, as many other events in his life had. There were no other options. Not when he had so much on the line, and no one wanted to fight for a better life for him. 

Remus was angry, he was hurting, and he felt so alone. He had grown tired of the sound of wheels against the familiar old floors of Hogwarts. He had grown tired of the thrumming of magic all around him, and all he wanted was to return to the streets of Bangor, with the lightly salted wind in his hair and the crashing of the waterfront. He wants to come home to his mam’s Bara Brith and his Tad making jokes at their meager kitchen table. He doesn’t want to wear second hand, moth-eaten robes anymore, and pretend to be this young man, this wizard that he isn’t. He’s just a normal kid from Bangor– he really is– and this is all becoming too much. It’s too much to think about how the Ministry doesn’t want to employ him, too much to think about how the only places he might ever work are low-level retail, too much to think about how everyone will know he’s a monster. It’s all too much, and before Remus knows it he’s behind a tapestry biting back sobs. He sat in the cloak of darkness behind the thick, woolen fabric for hours, missing his planned study session with Lily and going to dinner with Sirius, because he couldn’t bring himself to leave here, to leave the safety of his isolation. But the tears are long dried, and the shaking of his hands has calmed down. He could feel Sirius’s presence before he could see him, and he knew that he wanted to be alone, but something deep within forced him out of the hiding place he had found, in search of the other boy. His not boyfriend. His undefined partner with whom he tended to dissolve into giggles, and made out with. His padfoot. He felt like he was always running into Sirius’s arms, always looking for comfort in the arch of his neck and the curve of his collarbone. But the more Remus thought about it– about how he felt drawn to the other man and simultaneously tried to pry himself away. He couldn’t rely on anyone else this way, not when, in just a few weeks, this would all be over. Not when he was about to lose everything. But that didn’t stop him from wanting this closeness so desperately, because all he wanted was to feel safe for a while. Safe, not different, and dangerous, and isolated. 

He knew Sirius knew something was wrong. He could tell by the way his arms curled around Remus, and he pulled him tightly into a hug. Remus only allowed himself to return it for a short moment, before he was pulling away and mumbling something about going to the owlry to pick up his mail. He had been waiting on a letter from Daniel, who said something good was happening back in Bangor. The more Remus thought about it, the more he wished more good things would happen in Bangor. He needed something to come home to, when James, Peter, and Sirius wouldn’t talk to him because he didn’t want to join the Order, something to keep him from missing them too deeply. But Sirius is lacing their fingers together, saying he’ll walk him, and even holding his skateboard (Remus suppressed a cringe at the mall grab). He didn’t have the energy to argue, so he simply nodded and silently led the way. 

It took Remus a while to open the letter. He wasn’t afraid to admit it. Sirius had been fairly demanding of his attention, and he wasn’t exactly going to back down from that. Not when his time was so limited and he realized just how fragile these relationships were. Who was he to deny the other boy some time in a broom closet. But when he finally does open it, he feels guilty and giddy all at once. 

Laces,

It’ll never be not fucking mad that I have to mail you a letter to tell you anything. But whatever, smarmy is as smarmy does. Anyways, more to the point: we’re getting a skatepark in Bangor. Maybe you could bring your posh mates around, and we’ll actually have something to show for this drab old city. 

My mam said hi. Hope’s not doing too well. She told me not to tell you, but I figured you needed to know. She’s been having tea with my mam a lot, something about feeling isolated in the hospital. But she’s strong, she’ll be alright, yeah? Figure when the park opens you’ll probably be home a lot more because of it, so you’ll have something to do when she’s having a kip. 

Cheers mate, 

Peds

Remus couldn’t help his feelings, although he knew they were seemingly out of sorts for a good news letter. He couldn’t help the way his heart climbed into his throat at the thought of bringing his friends from school back to Gwynedd, at the thought of them seeing his mam when she wasn’t at her best, or making a fool of themselves in front of his mates because they didn’t know how to fall in line like muggles. But before he can even snap back in to the conversation around him, James is stealing the letter from his hands and joking “‘S this from that girlfriend of yours from first year?” It’s only when he reads through the content of the letter that he shuts up, and he doesn’t react the way Remus expects him to. He expects the pitying looks he gets every time he talks about his mam’s illness, or just how bad it was getting, but instead, he hears james guffawing. 

“We’re not posh or smarmy you bloody git!” He grinned, and Remus doesn’t know how to stop himself from laughing. 

“Yeah, Moony! We’re not! I’m punk rock, you fucker!” Sirius joins in. Peter shakes his head in disbelief at the conversation unfolding before them, and Remus agrees with the sentiment. 

“You absolutely are, you plonkers.” 

“So when are we meeting these mates of yours, Moony?” Sirius’s eyebrow was raised, as if to encourage him. But the way he squeezes Remus’s hand reminds him that he doesn’t have to say yes if he doesn’t want to. He worries his lower lip between his teeth, because he doesn’t know how to break this to them. Not with the war, and all of his doubts. 

“I guess that depends on how you take what I’m about to tell you.” He let’s out a deep sigh. “I dunno about joining the Order. I know there’s a war on but–”  He can feel the gasps around him, and he knows his hands are beginning to shake with this new explanation. 

“Moony we’re joining the Order for Lily and for –” 

“And so that people like my fucking parents can’t keep doing what they do with their stupid blood purity and their stupid fucking unforgivable curses. It’s bloody important that we all join the Order, Remus. What the fuck?” 

Well that wasn’t the reaction Remus wanted, but it was definitely the one he was expecting. He wants to say he understands all of that, but his mam is sick and he needs to be there for her. He needs to get a GED and join the work force and get away from all of the people who thought he wasn’t worthy of having a job or being a part of society. But they wouldn’t understand, and he knew it. There would be no changing their minds, not when they had reacted like this. 

“The Order doesn’t protect me,” He’s trying to keep his voice even and level, “and even if it did, my mam is sick and there’s no one to take care of her. I don’t know if I can just go join the war effort if she’s going to be all alone at home. I don’t–” He pauses, “dydych chi byth yn mynd i fy neall i, dwi ddim yn gwybod pam dwi'n ffycin trafferthu.” you’re never going to understand, i don’t know why i fucking bother. 

“Doesn’t protect you? Moony, of course it does.” 

“Yeah? You asked Dumbledore what he’s going to do about discrimination againt werewolves? About the fact that I can’t go home and just get a job, but I can’t get a job in the wizarding world because I know no one will hire me. About the fact that when I leave here, I have to register myself to be chained in a dungeon for the moon for the rest of my life? You talked to him about fighting to protect me?” He doesn’t know when he started yelling. “Of fucking course you didn’t. So quit banging on about how I should be fighting this war when both sides of it are out to get me.” 

He snatched the paper out of Jame’s hand and stalked off into the dormitory. Remus just wanted to be alone for a few minutes, to get his head back on straight. He can hear chatter in the other room, but it doesn’t stop him from climbing into bed and drawing his curtains. He’s frustrated with how little his friends truly understand him. His friends from home, who had no idea about the wolf, still somehow knew him better and that was something that scared the shit out of him. 

But Remus was wrong, he didn’t know it, but it was true. His mates at school knew him as well as he had let them, just like his friends at home. They knew his side of the dormitory mimicked the chaos in his mind, they knew he liked to read books when he was sad because it reminded him of his mam, they knew how to tame the wolf and remind him that he was a person, they knew how to make him laugh, even on his darkest days. They knew Remus better than he had given them credit for, and Sirius was spearheading the efforts to remind him of it as he moped. He was organizing the other two boys to pick up a bit of chocolate from honeydukes, to steal some new wax from Slugorn’s office, and to secure him a few new books. They wanted to remind him that they cared after he lashed out, finally seeing that he didn’t know how important he was to them. Because Remus was not just an integral part of the Marauders, he was the glue that held them all together.

Chapter 6: Forgot How to Be Alone

Summary:

last chapter ah!

The end of the semester approached quickly, with frequent updates from Daniel about the completion of the skatepark in Bangor. It gave Remus something to look forward to, when he knew the relationships he had worked so hard for at school were about to come to an end. But in a shocking turn of events, Sirius had moved forward with plans for them to move in together after graduation, despite Remus’s protests. He had said something about covering the rent while Remus was off with his mam, trying to help her remain comfortable with her illness, and that his things could be in London when he didn’t want to be in Wales. His father had sent him a letter, letting him know that he had stepped down from his position in the ministry and that the two of them were living off of his mam’s 401k. The whole idea of it, stressed him out, but he didn’t have a choice. His tad was trying to tell him that he could move to London, that he had time to be young, to join the Order if he wanted to, but Remus deeply wished he wouldn’t have. He would have rather just gone home, would have rather not had a choice. He didn’t want to choose. He wanted his father to tell him he had to come home, that they couldn’t make it work. But he couldn’t voice that, not really. Not when his friends were expecting him to join the order, and all he wanted was to go home. 

The other boys had stopped pushing the issue of joining the order. They hadn’t asked him about it since that first day, months ago when he felt ambushed by the questions they were asking. They had, however, repeatedly asked about meeting his friends. He tried so hard to brush it off, to tell them they didn’t need to meet his mates, but they were unrelenting. Particularly Sirius, who had seemed wildly possessive of him since he received that letter from Daniel about getting a new skatepark in Bangor and the condition of his mother. Perhaps that was why when Sirius brought it up again, Remus wasn’t shocked. 

“Moonbeam, why does your mate from back home always address his letters to Laces?” 

Remus could feel his cheeks going red, diverting his attention from his boyfriend. That was particularly difficult since they were in bed together, Sirius hovering over him because not a minute earlier, their lips were slotted in a heated, passionate kiss. 

“Pads, I—“

“What’s that bloke’s name anyway? He signed his letter as peds. This is you trying to replace me, innit?”

That gave Remus pause, and he pulled away slightly to look Sirius in the eye, “Are you jealous?” he asked. 

Sirius looked put off by that question, “Should I be?” 

Remus shook his head, his cheeks heating up in a blush. There was no reason for Sirius to be jealous, but his possessive streak was kind of endearing to Remus. He liked that Sirius noticed that Remus was talking to someone else and not investing all of his attention in Sirius. He liked that Sirius wanted all of his time and attention. But he also didn’t want him to stress out about a problem that wasn’t there. “Daniel is my best mate. You have nothing to be jealous of. You’re-“ he paused, was it too early to say boyfriend? “-He and I aren’t like this.”

Sirius nodded, the irritated furrow in his brow disappearing. “So what are you like? Who is he to you?”

Remus knew that if he wanted to trust Sirius, that included this piece of himself. But that didn’t make it any easier to share. Not when he had kept his life in Bangor hidden for so long. Not when Sirius would inevitably end this relationship if he didn’t join the order. He needed to tell him anyways, to let him know who these people were to him, should Sirius continue this relationship. So he took a long, deep breath, and tried to start at the beginning. 

“Peds– he, uh, he lives on my block, in Bangor. We met when we were seven, his brother, Scooter, I mean, uh Justin, taught us how to skate. I’ve been running with that crowd ever since.” 

“Where'd he get the nickname?” Sirius asked, in rapt attention. The question forced a laugh out of Remus, and he could see the way Sirius’s eyes softened at the noise. 

“Peds is short for Pedestrians Beware, because Danny used to crash into people more than anything else. He could land an anti-Casper before anyone else could but he couldn’t avoid people. He’s the reason we got kicked out of so many skate spots. People would complain because he crashed into ‘em, security would be called, and we’d be off.” Remus notices that Sirius is staring when he’s done reminiscing on the past. He doesn’t really know what it means, but Remus doesn’t really have time to beat around the bush anymore. Not when this would all end so soon. 

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” Remus asked, his tone lilting with his strong welsh accent in a way that he hopes makes him sound less accusatory. 

“Just love you, Moonbeam,” Sirius smiles back, his dimples catching Remus’s attention. Because if Remus didn’t focus in on something that wasn’t the stars in Sirius’s eyes, he might start crying over the statement, and god, he didn’t want that. 

“Even if I–” Sirius doesn’t even let him finish the thought, “–yeah, even if you don’t join the order moony. Of course, I want you there, but I get it if you have to go back to Wales and take care of your mum. I don’t want to take that from you. Wherever I end up, there’s always a place for you there.” 

That isn’t the answer that Remus is expecting, but it doesn’t stop him from pulling Sirius into a kiss. It feels like a relief, more than anything else, that this doesn’t have to be the last time just because it was their last day at Hogwarts. He feels like his skin was on fire, and now it’s being put out, with all of his nervous tension dissipating from his body. When the door to the dormitory opens, they pull apart, but neither makes a move to get out of the bed. 

“Prongs! Wormtail!” Sirius cheers and Remus rolls his eyes so hard it hurts. Who else would it have been? No one Remus could think of. 

“Moony’s gonna let us meet his mates!” 

“I didn’t say that!” Remus retorted, trying to suppress a laugh.

“I’m saying that!” Sirius countered, “Plus, they want to meet us, we want to meet them, what’s stopping you?”

“Pads,” James tries, “We can’t do it if Remus doesn’t want us to. That’s fucked up.” 

“When do you knobs want to come to Wales? I’m sure my mam and tad would love to have you.” 

“Moony, are you serious?” Peter looks as gobsmacked as Remus feels if he’s being completely honest. 

“No, I’m Sirius. But yeah, Moony’s fucking Sirius.” 

Peter gives Sirius an exasperated sigh, but the profane look Sirius gave him let Remus in on the joke he was making. The boys moved from Sirius’s bed in the dormitory to the center of the room on the floor, for a game of exploding snap, and Remus finally felt like these boys were part of his home. 

In two week’s time, Remus gets resettled back in Bangor. He drives his mam to and from treatment every day, he goes out with his friends while she sleeps, he makes dinner for his family every night, he’s doing everything he can to make the place comfortable for his parents when his friends come to visit. His mam was done with the round of chemo by the time the boys would be present, and she and his father promised that he wouldn’t have to do as much work around the house once the chemo ended. Remus knew it was because Hope wouldn’t want him to, he knew that Hope and Lyall wanted him to be young while he could, they didn’t want him to go off to the war, they didn’t want him to do anything other than enjoy his youth. He couldn’t blame them, not when there was a war on and Hope was sick and he was just a nineteen year old kid trying to figure out how to be so much older and so much wiser than his years. He hadn’t been able to be young for most of his life, and they wanted him to be able to, now that he was done with school, and he had the means of having good moons.

When Sirius arrived, Remus was all smiles. He doesn’t even know how to not be happy to have him in his city, to understand the life that he lives. When he arrives, it’s with the loud crack of apparation on his stoop. Remus is outside, tightening his trucks when Sirius appears in front of him, and his entire face lit up. 

“Pads! You can’t just apparate around Bangor! Someone might see you!” He grins, standing up from the concrete steps. His smile is so wide, the salt gathered in his hair from the sea, and his accent impossibly thicker since he’s returned home, and he can see the way Sirius is taking it in. He’s taking in the way Remus looks in the sunshine, and the way his trousers are still cuffed as they were at school and tucked into them is a soft cotton t-shirt. It was different from the way he looked at school somehow, despite the fact that Remus wore the same outfits on weekends at school and in Hogsmeade. Sirius noticed that his caramel colored freckles splattered across his nose had gotten darker, but he doesn’t take in any new scars. 

He and Sirius fall back into each other in a new, but familiar way. With a whisper of love and a dusting of kindness, he and Sirius are blissfully in love, kissing, and giggling every time they tried to hide their flirting or the way they held hands under the table at dinner. His parents, of course, are enamored with Sirius. He’s the only friend from Hogwarts that Remus has ever brought home, but they’ve heard about him ad nauseam. They know all about how much Remus likes being around him, and he’s sure they’ve caught on, based on the knowing smiles Hope and Lyall keep giving him, but he doesn’t talk about it, too caught up on Sirius. 

The next day, he and Sirius head out of the house on their respective skateboards, and Remus is glad that Sirius looks so much steadier on the board than he had in the past. He had led Sirius to the skatepark, and he’s immediately greeted by his friends. He hears Daniel, Justin, Erika and the others cheering upon his arrival, and the smile on his face gets impossibly wider. 

“Laces!” Daniel calls, waving towards him. He gestures toward the group and Sirius’s grin also widens. “So these are your legendary mates, Moonshine?” 

“Yeah, these are my mates.” 

They step off their boards, and Remus can’t help the blush that’s bloomed on his face. His cheeks are red and his friends are much less wary of Sirius than he thought they would be. “I–uhm– This is Peds, Scooter, and Rikkie,” He gestures to each of them, “Mates, dyma Sirius, fy ngharia. Nid yw'n siarad Cymraeg felly, peidiwch â datgelu fi am ei alw'n hynny.” this is sirius, my boyfriend. he doesn’t speak welsh, so don’t tell him i called him that. 

“Dim pryderon, cymar. I’m Daniel, this idiot, calls me Peds.” 

“Sirius, my idiot boyfriend calls me Padfoot.” If Remus could get any redder, the provocative look he shot him would definitely do it. He wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what to say. He and Sirius– he wanted to be Sirius’s boyfriend –he just had no idea Sirius wanted that. It was nice, to know that they were on the same page, even if they hadn’t talked about it. 

“What kind of nickname is Padfoot, Laces?” 

“Liste, Scooter, if this dickhead sneaks up on you, you’ll understand.”

With that, they’re off, and Remus couldn’t be more thrilled. Not when he was here, with his best friends from his youth, and his boyfriend. Not right now, when there was nothing that could bring him down. The boys skate around the park, practicing new and old tricks, jumping down five stairs, and practicing tricks on verts. He feels like his soul was laid bare, but he didn’t feel afraid anymore. He didn’t know when he stopped being afraid if it was that night when Sirius promised that he’d always have a place, wherever Sirius was, but here, in the skatepark with the friends of his youth getting along so well with his boyfriend and everything is right. Sure, it will all change in the coming months, with the war and his mam’s illness, but everything was right for right now, and for right now, that’s enough.

Notes:

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