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The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet that morning. Most students had already rushed off to breakfast, leaving only a few stragglers by the fire. Remus sat curled in one of the armchairs, a book balanced on his knee, absent-mindedly tapping his quill against the margins. He was trying to focus on his notes for Transfiguration, but his mind kept wandering.
It was their anniversary. Not that anyone else knew, of course. It wasn’t the sort of thing they announced to the world. But Remus remembered the day clearly: the day Sirius had kissed him for the first time, in the shadows of the Astronomy Tower, with the stars twinkling above them.
He smiled faintly at the memory, but quickly schooled his expression as footsteps approached.
“Moony!” Sirius’s voice rang out, loud and cheerful as ever. He bounded down the boys’ staircase, hair wild, tie askew, grinning like he’d just won the Quidditch Cup.
Remus raised an eyebrow. “You’re in a good mood.”
“I’m always in a good mood,” Sirius said, flopping dramatically onto the arm of Remus’s chair. “But today especially.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Happy anniversary.”
“You remembered.”
“Of course I remembered,” Sirius grinned. “I’m not completely hopeless.” He pulled something from behind his back: a small box wrapped in scarlet paper. “For you.”
Remus blinked, startled. He wasn’t really expecting anything. “You didn’t have to–”
“Shut up and open it,” Sirius interrupted.
Inside was a quill, sleek and elegant, its feather shimmering. Remus recognized it immediately: a self-inking quill, charmed to never run dry. He’d been eyeing it at Scrivenshaft’s the last time they’d gone to Hogsmeade, and Sirius must have noticed.
“I saw you cursing at your old one,” Sirius said, suddenly shy. “And since you were eyeing this one, I figured I’d get you an upgrade.”
Remus’s heart thudded. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” He took a deep breath. “I, uh, well, I got you something too.” He hesitated before handing over the package he’d stuck under his chair. “It’s not much,” he said quickly. “I just thought… well, I thought you might like it.”
Sirius tore the paper eagerly, revealing a black leather jacket. He froze, staring at it.
Remus’s heart sank. “I know it’s second-hand,” he said, his voice low. “I couldn’t–”
“Moony. This is brilliant.”
“You don’t think it’s…cheap?”
“Cheap?” Sirius laughed, shaking his head. “It’s perfect. Look at it! It’s been lived in, it’s got character. Just like me.” He slipped it on, the leather creaking softly. It fit almost perfectly, hugging his shoulders, the sleeves brushing his wrists. Sirius spread his arms wide. “How do I look?”
Remus couldn’t help but smile. “Like trouble.”
“Exactly,” Sirius grinned. He leaned over and kissed Remus’s cheek. “Best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Remus muttered.
“Ridiculously handsome,” Sirius corrected, stretching his legs out so far that Remus had to tuck his own closer to avoid being kicked. “And ridiculously lucky. Honestly, Moony, you’ve outdone yourself.”
Remus shook his head, pretending to return to his Transfiguration notes, though the words blurred on the page. He couldn’t quite focus with Siriu leaning against him, radiating energy like a storm contained in human form.
The silence between them was comfortable, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the fire. Sirius fiddled with the jacket sleeve. Tugging at the worn leather, as if testing its durability. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, he leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
“Do you know what this means?” Sirius asked.
“That you finally own something you didn’t steal from me, James, or Pete?”
Sirius gasped. “Moony! How dare you! I’ll have you know I’ve acquired many things honestly.
“Honestly?” Remus echoed, skeptical.
“Well… mostly honestly,” Sirius admitted. “But this—this is special.”
“It’s a jacket, Sirius.”
“This is more than a jacket,” he insisted, tapping the leather over his heart. “This is proof that you love me enough to scour second-hand shops for hours on end.”
Remus rolled his eyes, though his cheeks warmed. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re stuck with me,” Sirius said cheerfully.
Their peace didn’t last long, however. Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs, followed by a familiar voice.
“Oi! Padfoot! Moony!” James appeared, his hair sticking up in every direction and his glasses slightly crooked. “What are you two doing skulking around here? Breakfast is nearly over.”
Remus stiffened, instinctively sliding his book over the small box Sirius had given him. Sirius, however, didn’t bother hiding anything. He sprawled even more dramatically across the arm of the chair.
“We’re admiring my new look,” Sirius announced proudly. “What do you think, Prongs? Dashing, isn’t it?”
James squinted. “Where’d you get that?”
“Gift,” Sirius smirked.
James’s eyes flicked to Remus, then back to Sirius. His grin widened. “Ah. I see.”
“It’s just a jacket,” Remus said defensively. I got tired of him always stealing mine.”
“Sure it is. And I suppose that shiny quill in your lap is just a coincidence, too?”
Remus opened his mouth, but Sirius cut in smoothly. “Anniversary gifts, Prongs. Try not to be jealous.”
“Anniversary?” James gasped, eyes wide. “Godric, you two–”
“Keep your voice down!” Remus hissed, glancing around nervously.
But James was already grinning like a madman. “You sly dogs! How long has this been going on?”
“None of your business,” Remus muttered.
“Long enough,” Sirius said smugly, draping an arm around Remus’s shoulders.
James looked positively delighted. “Wait until Pete hears about this!”
“No,” Remus said sharply. “No one else needs to know.”
James raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. But you can’t expect me to keep quiet forever. This is fantastic!”
Sirius chuckled, clearly enjoying Remus’s discomfort. “Let him gush, Moony. He’s happy for us.”
Remus shot Sirius a glare, but Sirius only grinned wider.
Eventually, James managed to drag them down to the Great Hall, though Sirius insisted on wearing the jacket despite Remus’s protests that it was too warm. The hall buzzed with chatter, and students clustered around long tables piled high with food.
Peter waved them over eagerly, mouth already full of eggs. “Where’ve you been? I thought you’d overslept.”
“Celebrating,” James said with a sly grin.
Remus nearly dropped his tea. “James!”
But Sirius cut in smoothly, sliding onto the bench beside Peter. “Celebrating my impeccable fashion sense. Moony gifted me this fine piece of leather.”
Peter blinked, confused. “Oh. Nice jacket.”
Sirius winked. “Isn’t it?”
Remus exhaled in relief, though James shot him a mischievous look across the table.
Breakfast passed in a blur of chatter and laughter. Sirius kept nudging Remus under the table, whispering comments about their professors, while James plotted Gryffindor’s next Quidditch practice, and Peter tried to add a few finishing touches to his Potions essay.
After breakfast, Sirius tugged Remus away from the crowd, insisting they needed “proper anniversary time.” They slipped out of the castle, the crisp air biting at their cheeks. The lake shimmered in the distance under the pale morning sun, its surface rippling gently.
Sirius shoved his hands into the jacket pockets, looking oddly contemplative. “Do you ever think about the future, Moony?”
Remus glanced at him. “The future?”
“Yeah. Us. Where we’ll be after Hogwarts.” Sirius kicked at a pebble, sending it skittering across the path. “I mean, I know everything’s uncertain—war brewing and all that—but still. I like to imagine.”
Remus’s chest tightened. He rarely let himself think too far ahead; his lycanthropy, the war, it all made the future seem impossible. “What do you imagine?” he asked quietly.
Sirius smiled. “Us, in a flat somewhere. Big windows, terrible furniture, stacks of books everywhere because you can’t help yourself. And of course, a motorbike parked outside.”
“Sounds chaotic.”
“Sounds perfect,” Sirius said firmly.
They walked in silence for a while, the wind tugging at their hair, but it didn’t last long, because James and Peter appeared out of nowhere. They were both carrying broomsticks.
“Care for a match?” James called. “Two-on-two, right now.”
Remus groaned. “James…”
But Sirius was already grinning. “You’re on.”
Within minutes, they were airborne, the crisp air rushing past as they darted across the sky. Sirius flew with reckless abandon, jacket flapping in the breeze, while Remus tried to keep up without crashing. James whooped, Peter clung to his broom, and the game dissolved into chaos—no rules, no boundaries, just laughter and shouts echoing across the pitch.
At one point, Sirius swooped dangerously close to Remus, grinning. “Catch me if you can, Moony!”
Remus narrowed his eyes, pushing his broom faster. “You’ll regret that.”
They chased each other through the air, weaving and diving, until Sirius finally let Remus catch him. They landed breathless, laughing, James and Peter collapsing nearby.
By the time evening fell, the castle was quiet again. The common room glowed with firelight, and students scattered across armchairs and rugs. Remus sat curled in his usual spot, the new quill scratching smoothly across parchment. Sirius lounged nearby, jacket draped over the chair, hair wild from the wind.
“Moony,” Sirius said suddenly.
Remus looked up. “Hm?”
“Thank you.” Sirius’s voice was softer than usual, stripped of bravado. “For the jacket. For today. For… everything.”
“Anytime, Pads.”