O Holy Night

by filledwithpassion

Summary:

The final days leading up to Christmas leaves Sirius with unexpected changes, amongst them a promise to stay in choir, a breakup, and a new outlook on life.

It might just also leave him falling in love.

Notes:

Hello!! I hope you all will enjoy this Christmas special I’ve been working on… Wolfstar is so back

Just to put it out there: I don’t support J.K. Rowlings beliefs if that was not obvious

Chapter 1: To Stop Trying to Stop

30th of November

 

Sirius does wish he didn’t feel as free as he does when he sings.

 

He stands in a church somewhere, with his long hair let loose and far too fancy clothes he feels out of place in and sweat on his forehead, and he sings because his mother makes him, and he has fun. Which goes against, well not only his whole brand, but also the law of the universe for a handful of reasons.

 

See; Sirius is seventeen years old, and he’s known for one of the following: being the son of Orion and Walburga Black, having top grades in an effortless, charming sort of way that also makes him one of the most popular kids in school, or for being a piano prodigy that for some reason gave up the instrument despite his talent when he was fifteen.

 

Now, there is a pattern here. All of this, in some way, goes against his mother’s wishes for him.

 

If he could muster up the feeling of dislike for choir, he could also be known for going against the last of Walburga’s wishes and leaving choir against her will.

 

And, yeah. Maybe the reason he wants to leave choir is childish and a little bit petty, but it’s sort of an unspoken rule in Grimmauld Place 12. Walburga has a handful of Things that are hers, like piano before he quit and the grades Sirius gets. There are Sirius-Things too, like being on top of the football team alongside James or being unachievable however much the ladies in school flirt with him, up until he got together with Mary MacDonald; the most popular girl in school.

 

He reckons she’d like him to be a bit more like his brother Regulus, quiet about his status but still making it show in every room he walks into. Not a Casanova, not popular, not one of the best on the football team. Which is partly why Sirius is all of these Things, see.

 

Singing could be a Walburga Thing, and maybe it is already a Walburga Thing even though Sirius is too stubborn to admit it, but he likes to think of it as a both of them Thing for now. One of those Things that they haven’t had since Sirius was a kid. Which they shouldn’t have, since it goes against the law of the Black family; now that Sirius is grown and not a kid.

 

Since you probably understand how crucial this is now, you must know that Sirius has tried to stop before. But singing is, in one way or the other, like oxygen for him. If he doesn’t sing for too long his throat closes up and the feeling of suffocating makes its way down to his feet where it takes place and makes him so restless. It is a craving only singing can still, and with how quiet it is required to be in his house constantly, the only chance he has to let this need be fed is at choir.

 

They’re practicing for Christmas songs right now. It’s soon December, which also means that there’s going to be a proper Christmas concert soon; hence the choices of songs. Their choirmaster, Mrs. Brown, mentions that they will be going over to sing Sirius’ favourite song— O Holy Night. He can practically feel his own eyes glowing at the thought and then he scolds himself immediately because that’s quite embarrassing, really.

 

He can’t help but flex his fingers, though, because he loves the song. It holds a sentimental value for him, one that sits bittersweetly warm at the pit of his stomach and sometimes makes his eyes stick whenever he thinks too hard about it.

 

It was the first ever Christmas he spent at the Potter’s— you see, away from his horrible family and Walburga Things versus Sirius Things— and that song played on the telly when Effie, his real mum in every way that matters, gave him the first gift that truly caught him off-guard that year.

 

It wasn’t something stupid like a book with piano notes or a new tailored suit Sirius didn’t want, it was the softest and cosiest and ugliest knitted sweater he’d ever seen.

 

One very similar to the ones Effie always made for James and Monty. One very similar to the ones James had said were family tradition.

 

His eyes had immediately started watering, and he’d muttered a thank you. Effie had smiled and hugged him, letting him hide his face in her shoulder as a few tears fell. 

 

On the telly, they sang; O holy night, dragging out on the ‘o’ in holy, and Sirius then and there thought that he might have for the first time been through something truly holy. That, perhaps, the magic of Christmas lies in that particular song or part— or maybe just in the Potters. Despite how many times he’s spent Christmas at the Potters’ or sang O Holy Night since, he still can’t tell you which speculation is true.

 

Since then, anyway, obviously by how he sings it’s praise, the song has been his favourite Christmas song.

 

In the choir it’s usually the same kid that plays every song on the piano for them, especially over Christmas. He goes to a different school from Sirius, so they don’t cross paths very often but Sirius doesn’t particularly care. The pianist is somewhat popular in the choir, as Sirius himself is wherever he goes, but Sirius thinks his feeling of distaste for the boy is mutual. What’s his name, Knightley or Kingsley maybe?

 

Well, he sees Knight/Kingsley stand up, anyway, and say something to their choirmaster. He supposes he asks for a second to stretch his legs before they start up again, because he walks away from the piano and goes to talk to a friend of his who stands two rows ahead of Sirius for a second. 

 

Sirius, as mentioned, doesn’t quite like the pianist; but this feeling is not exclusively for him within the choir. Sirius really thinks everyone in choir except for Benjy is a bunch of wankers, so he doesn’t usually talk to a soul other than him in there. And Benjy is away for the day since he has a basketball game or something— bloody annoying. Therefore, Sirius waits in boredom as everyone around him starts talking to one another.

 

Mrs. Brown eventually, finally, calls out that everyone should stop chit-chatting and that they have to get back to business. Sirius stretches quickly before everyone quietens. A few people get back to their places in front of Sirius after having left them for whatever reason, restricting his vision a little bit. Although Sirius is not short at all, so he isn’t too affected. He’s about 180cm, so he can still somewhat easily look over the heads of the people standing in front of him.

 

He, because of this, basically has a first row view when Knight/Kingsley falls down the stairs with a scream, his arm ending up in a nasty angle.

 

(Sirius really can’t help the snort he lets out, throwing a hand over his grinning mouth immediately. Really.)

 

Their choirmaster screams, and calls a number as the choir— Knight/Kingsley’s closest friends first— makes their way down to check on him. The boy is still writhing on the floor through questions of ‘are you okay’ as far as Sirius can see, which he thinks is quite pathetic and a lot overdramatic.

 

Soon enough the pianist’s mum and dad run inside, helping him up with a quick thank you to the choirmaster who’d called. The mum’s eyes graze over the group of boys standing around her son, and she does a quick double take once her gaze meets Sirius’. Sirius can’t resist the urge to wink and then snicker to himself once the action immediately makes her take her son and leave, with the dad close behind. Everyone is quiet.

 

Once they leave, the choir break out into worried murmuring, which Sirius can’t be bummed to take part of. He instead takes out his phone and writes to Benjy about what happened. He doesn’t get a response, which must mean Benjy isn’t just planlessly skipping and might actually be at a game after all. He huffs in annoyance. Maybe, with a bit of luck, they’ll be able to leave if they don’t have a pianist, though. Sirius is quite done with choir for the day at this point. Every time their choirmaster tries to sit down and play piano herself without regulating them or having someone to keep them in check it always ends up badly because they are at the end of the day a bunch of schoolboys cramped in a church, so she probably won’t do that.

 

“Alright, boys,” their choirmaster is suddenly talking, making Sirius have to put down his phone, slipping it into his pocket. “this doesn’t mean you can slack off. I might have someone else that could be willing to take Kingsley’s place until he gets better, or perhaps even for all of the Christmas season if he doesn’t get better in time. I’ll see if he’s available as early as today.”

 

Their choirmaster gets her phone out once more and calls what seems to be a friend of hers judging by her expressions as she starts speaking. Sirius takes out his, too, and starts writing to Benjy about these news as well. He scrolls on social media for a second before Benjy answers, beginning his message by saying his game is over, and then continuing by asking if Kingsley broke his arm or just injured it.

 

Sirius is just about to answer when someone new suddenly walks inside, with the over-enthusiastic greeting of Mrs. Brown. Sirius can’t help but feel a bit fond, even before he’s lifted his head. He’s always had a bit of a soft spot for Mrs. Brown— another reason to why he’s alright with choir despite everything.

 

Sirius imagines it must be Kingsley’s replacement, anyway, judging by how grateful Mrs. Brown sounds talking to him. Sirius quickly finishes his text and sends it.

 

Then he looks up, and even if he’s standing on one of the rows furthest back and even though the person is on the other side of the room, everything shines.

 

Any other time, Sirius would imagine it’s the lightning. He’d scoff at the mere insinuation of anyone having an aura, especially if the topic was someone having a literally visible one.

 

But this boy?

 

He’s glowing.

 

He’s wearing shorts— despite the fact that it’s bloody November— and a basketball shirt that lets Sirius know he was at a match just as Benjy was; Sirius would probably know if it was Benjy’s team if he paid more attention during his rambles. He’s tall and tanned despite the gloomy weather, and his hair is even from as far as Sirius is standing visibly frizzy. He slouches and tries to smoothen his unruly curls down in an almost apologetic manner, as if his mere presence is a burden.

 

See, Sirius has always liked summer more than winter— and there must have been some sort of reason for it past football and sweating and swimming and being with friends. This boy is what Mother Nature, or God since they’re in church, based summer on. This boy, with his golden aura that is lighting up the room and his endearing manner, brings a bit of summer with him even in some of the darkest days of the year.

 

Or something.

 

Sirius tries desperately, every Sunday when he’s at choir practice, to find something to tip over the scale of “choir” to be a Sirius Thing rather than a Walburga Thing.

 

Someone asks:

 

“Who is that?”

 

Sirius wants to ask the same. Or, maybe, he wants to answer. Right now, when the boy is walking to the piano and Mrs. Brown is saying something he can’t get himself to focus on, the boy is a mystery. A mystery in the same way the fun summer came with had been up until Sirius turned eleven and met James Potter, a mystery in the same way the warmth of Christmas was before he heard O Holy Night on the telly and he got his first ever present when he was freshly fifteen and fighting back tears. He wants to know of whatever warmth, whatever secrets, this boy might be bearing.

 

Sirius makes himself tune in again, seeing Mrs. Brown’s lips moving:

 

“…pianist is Remus Lupin. Thank you so much for coming at such short notice,” Mrs. Brown says with a big smile.

 

The boy, Remus, smiles back, a light blush coating his cheeks; painting his caramel cheeks in a light, light, pink.

 

“It’s my pleasure,” he says before going up to sit down at the piano.

 

And, for an absurd second, right when Remus starts to play the first few notes of O Holy Night, Sirius thinks that this might just be enough to get him to stay.

 

Any plan he had to stop with choir is forgotten the second they start singing.

 

It’s— magical. Remus plays the song confidently, sitting a bit more straight now that the song’s really started. Sirius sings so loud he can practically only hear his own voice. Mrs. Brown smiles at him, but Sirius isn’t paying her any mind. He can’t.

 

There is something holy in the room, something that isn’t the night they’re singing about, after all.

 

Remus smiles as he finishes with the applause of Mrs. Brown. And everything shines, shines, shines with him.

 

______

 

Remus is good at piano. Like, really good; like Sirius was before he quit. He’s also kind but unknown to all the choir boys, meaning he hasn’t played anything for their particular choir before. His father is the friend of Mrs. Brown; hence the fact that Remus was contacted at all. Sirius hopes Kingsley has broken his arm for all of eternity because he needs Remus to stay— and he’s serious about that. (Or, Sirius about that. It makes him snicker, even though he has probably heard the joke probably a thousand times before.) 

 

Remus, anyway, didn’t talk to Sirius for the whole time they were practicing.

 

These are all the things Sirius has gathered through the time they were at choir, and now as he’s on his way home in the cold, nose sticking and cheeks probably red, he can’t seem to wait for next week.

 

See, Sirius loves change. This is maybe a weird discovery to make about oneself, but as someone who grew up around so many set routines and repeating days over and over and over he quickly found that he likes when things switch every once in a while. He likes having something to look forward to; something new and exciting.

 

He also enjoys setting things in stone. Like now, for example. He could probably go home and imagine this was all a dream and that one Remus Lupin doesn’t exist, if he doesn’t make sure to let someone know this happened.

 

So, he calls the person he knows will listen the best: James Potter.

 

His phone only has the time to ring two times before the contact of “Prongs” picks up.

 

“Wotcher,” he says, not able to resist a smile as he hears James’ gleeful response.

 

“Wotcher, Padfoot! What’s up?”

 

“Gee, I should ask you,” Sirius’ mood is always immediately brightened when he speaks to James, he smiles and his chest feels a bit lighter every time he hears the other’s voice. “you sound so. Giddy.”

 

“Giddy?” James’ voice cracks on the ‘i’, which makes Sirius bark a laugh.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Never had a voice crack, probably. With your stupid voice,” James grumbles back— clearly a bit embarrassed. “on the topic of your angelic voice, how’d choir go?”

 

“Alright. Kingsley broke his arm,” Sirius says, smiling. 

 

He’s just about to tell James about Remus when he’s interrupted with a:

 

“Serves him right. He’s the one who glares at you all the time, no? About me and my giddiness, though, mum baked cinnamon buns. And Pete’s coming over.”

 

Sirius immediately stops in his tracks and turns around to start walking to the Potters’ instead.

 

Usually, he goes straight from wherever he’s been to the Potters’ and then he goes home to sleep, or maybe he sleeps over and only comes home to get clothes or whenever he feels he has too. Last time, though, his mother had gotten so angry with him for not coming home she’d gotten his father involved as well.

 

And— there was something in his gaze as he told Sirius off that scared Sirius, once and for all. There’s not much that scares him, but that gaze? It really, really, did.

 

The only reason he was going home now was to avoid whatever that gaze insinuated, but in the spur of the moment and the constant want to chase that nice feeling he gets from just talking to James he says a quick ‘I’ll be there’ before they bid bye-bye and his phone starts playing Led Zeppelin in his headphones again.

 

Maybe he’ll regret this choice later.

 

Right now? He doesn’t. He’s happy and content, and when he’ll be old and thinking back on his teenage years he’s always wanted that feeling to be present more often than all the horrible things that his parents make him feel.

 

For now, that’s enough.

 

 

The Potters’ house is always warm.

 

The lights are warm and the furniture is in warm and whimsical colours that blend together in unexpectedly nice ways. In the house you always hear laughter and the voice of someone you know, or at least feel the distinct warmth of safety pool somewhere in your chest and force your face to light up with a smile.

 

It’s, no doubt, Sirius’ favourite place in the whole entire world, containing some of his favourite people in the whole entire world.

 

Effie comes out of the kitchen at his arrival. He gives her a smile and she walks up to him and gives him a hug.

 

“You’re just in time for supper, love. I was wondering when you’d show up,” she says.

 

James comes downstairs with Peter right behind him.

 

“Padfoot!” he says, pushing up his glasses that always are askew in that charming James Potter way.

 

“Prongs!” he replies, setting off to give him a hug, going to do the same for Peter right after.

 

Usually, he’d go for the typical side hug, but that’s not needed here at the Potter’s house. Here, they’re eleven again all the time and the worst thing anyone could do was tackle them during recess when they were playing football. Here, no societal norms are needed and James and Sirius and Peter aren’t the most popular kids in school.

 

Here, they’re just Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

 

“Dinner’s ready!” Effie calls, and all three of them rush to the kitchen happily. 

 

The radio is playing Christmas songs already, and Sirius is feeling genuinely excited about Christmas. Maybe, it’s a bit because of—

 

Oh. Right.

 

He hasn’t mentioned Remus to James or Peter yet; the reason he called James in the first place.

 

He suddenly, for some reason, feels a pang of longing for Remus to be here. As if he’s meant to, in some indescribable way.

 

He amuses himself for a second and thinks it’s a sign from the universe that there is another world where this is reality, that there’s the four of them instead of just the three. 

 

What a terrible thought to have.

 

Sirius forgets all about this when he notices supper is, possibly since it’s Sunday, a roast in true British fashion.

 

It is one thing that he and his mother agree on, other than choir; there is nothing better than British food.

 

He and his mates dig in immediately, Sirius only now realising his hunger.

 

“You were at choir today, Sirius, no?” Effie asks a while later, most of Sirius’ hunger now satisfied.

 

“Yeah,” he replies.

 

“Anything fun happen?” Monty continues.

 

Sirius smiles.

 

“Kingsley fell down the stairs.”

 

“Sirius, that’s not funny,” Effie scolds in that mum voice of hers.

 

“He bloody hates him though,” James— ever his most loyal companion— retorts, and Sirius nods along.

 

“Yeah! Whenever he plays any hard song on that sodding piano he always looks me right in the eyes as if to make it known to me that I can’t play it. Which I can, I just choose not to because I quit piano,” Sirius explains. “maybe falling down the stairs was karma.”

 

“Sirius.”

 

“I’m sorry, mum.”

 

“What are you going to do for the Christmas concert, then? You don’t have a pianist or what?” Monty asks him, frowning.

 

Sirius can’t resist smiling again. Monty always loves their concerts, especially during the Christmas season, which always has left Sirius quite proud. Once he thinks he saw Monty wiping away a tear at one of their performances last spring; although he’d never say it out loud. Monty would never admit it anyway. He likes to think of it as their little secret, of sorts. It feels fatherly and makes him feel more apart of the Potters, anyway, so he doesn’t mind not telling anyone.

 

Then he remembers the question.

 

And then he remembers gold, bashfulness, and summer.

 

Then he remembers Remus.

 

“Well, we have this one kid. Maybe you saw him at the basketball game today, Wormtail?” he nods at Peter, who always goes to any of the sports games held in their small town; if Remus hypothetically has joined their basketball team Peter would know. “Remus Lupin.”

 

“Oh, yeah!” Peter nods. “tall as hell. And he has those freaky scars as well.”

 

Sirius feels something burn in his chest at the insinuation. Nothing about Remus is freaky.

 

“He’s not bloody freaky, Pete. Watch it.”

 

“Gee, sorry,” Peter says, deflating.

 

Sirius frowns. He had noticed Remus’ scars before, but he hadn’t paid them too much mind. See, he has so much more going for him. His golden aura, his talent for piano, his basketball clothes, his frizzy hair— and everything else Sirius wants to know about the bloke. The scars are more of an afterthought.

 

Maybe, when Sirius wasn’t paying attention, people were commenting on it. The thought makes his chest squeeze uncomfortably. He hopes no one was.

 

“Is he any good at piano, then?” Monty asks.

 

Sirius nods, staring at his now empty plate.

 

“Yeah. Really.”

 

 

_______

 

 

That night, they play cards for a long time, and when Peter goes home James suggests Sirius stays over for the night. Sirius, not yet wanting to face the wrath of his parents, says yes immediately.

 

(When he suggests they drink some of Monty’s beer James says no, though. It is after all school the next day. Maybe next time.

 

He thinks James knows he only suggested it to get his mind off the way his phone goes off all the time; the contacts of Regulus or mother lighting up the screen. Perhaps it’s for the better.)

 

Sirius and James share a bed, Sirius taking one of James’ pyjamas that is just a slight bit too big for him because of James’ physique and height.

 

It’s still quite early as they’re laying shoulder to shoulder, and Sirius isn’t quite ready to go to sleep when James says:

 

“Goodnight.”

 

“The pianist at my choir,” Sirius immediately begins, James sighs.

 

“What ‘bout him?”

 

“He’s. Something.”

 

“Whaddya mean?”

 

“You know how you always say that you’ll just… know, when it’s the right one. Like, the right bird for you,” Sirius mumbles.

 

“Yeah, man. You having lady problems, or what? I thought you and Mary made up last week? And, how does that have anythin’ to do with your pianist?” James asks, less drowsy now.

 

“No! No. Not at all. No lady problems. I… I was just thinking more about the aura thing,” Sirius is suddenly grateful for the dark, now, feeling his cheeks heat.

 

Why had he brought up James’ romantic fantasies in relation to Remus? He’s not sure. Maybe he just wanted James to focus more on the aura part, as he said, because Sirius is sure Remus had brought a reflection of the summer sun with him to church today, but then why did his cheeks heat now? Sirius doesn’t know why the whole motive seems foreign, now. He felt just a second ago as if the question was completely reasonable. As if the thought was connected to a train of thought or a feeling that has since long been forgotten or misunderstood and dumbed down into something incoherent; the confusion he feels now.

 

“I just mean… today he was all…” Sirius waves his hand around lazily above him. “golden.”

 

“Golden?” James asks.

 

“Yeah. Golden.”

 

“Hm.”

 

They’re quiet for a moment.

 

“Prongs?”

 

“Yeah, Padfoot?”

 

“I want to be his friend.”

 

“Well, make sure to speak to him next time you see him, then.”

 

“I think you’d like him too.”

 

“I’m sure I would.”

 

They’re quiet for another moment, Sirius still antsy.

 

“Padfoot?” his nervousness gets interrupted by James this time.

 

“Yeah, Prongs?”

 

“Everythin’s going to be fine.”

 

Sirius can’t resist his smile. (He can’t resist how his eyes sting a bit, either. He wills himself to not let it show.)

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“…Goodnight, James.

 

“Goodnight Sirius.”

 

And— yeah. Everything might just turn out fine, after all. James always knows what to say when Sirius is concerned; of course he’d say something that’d settle in his chest as something as warm and wonderful as the words ‘everything’s going to be fine’ does now. Perhaps he sensed, somewhere, that there was more to Sirius’ worry than just Remus— his mother’s cold gaze, and his brother’s that starts looking more like it every day (or worse, sometimes, when he thinks he’s looking in a mirror as he sees him). His father’s gaze, angry and holding a warning that doesn’t need to be spoken at all.

 

But today? Today it’s Sunday. The day after that will be Monday and Sirius will fuck around with his friends at school until the afternoon when he has to face the consequences of his sleepover.

 

For now? For now, that’s enough.

 

It’s that knowledge that Sirius falls into a deep sleep with not much later.

 

(His dreams are filled with tanned hands that move over tiles of white and black, laughter, and the feeling of being completely buried in something warm and safe and golden.

 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t remember the dream at all.)

Chapter 2: The First Lie

Notes:

Sorry this one took a bit long to get out! I’ll probably be able to be a bit more efficient of posting soon enough… reading through and cleaning up my writing is quite boring so I end up procrastinating a bit haha

1st of December

Three years ago, something awful happened to Sirius Black.

 

He was fourteen and was away from home for far too often and for far too long, he’d started growing out his hair properly, starting to go to his first parties after trying beer with James hidden in the Potters’ guest room for the first time a few years back; and to put it lightly, he was thriving.

 

He felt as if the world spun on his finger that particular year, and he acted the part as well.

 

This made for some very fun memories rooted in the fact that Sirius all of a sudden had the bravery to do much more for pranks and hangouts with his mates, which was appreciated by James and Peter more than anyone, but less appreciated by… someone else, so to say.

 

Especially one party they were at— which, as many do, resulted in the police getting called— ended up with this one person angry.

 

Walburga.

 

It’d been October and raining so much Sirius was soaked through once he’d ran the ten minute walk between his house and the Potters’, both located on the more high-end part of their town, and he couldn’t tell the difference between the blood on his shirt and the rainwater.

 

He’d fainted once he’d gotten inside, and when he woke up it was to Effie crying, Monty trying to comfort her, the scars now littering over his thighs bandaged, and James holding his hand and grounding him until Sirius could muster up the courage to let a tear fall too.

 

Because James is James, practically him in another body, he just wrapped his arms around Sirius and made sure to not look at his face as the tear turned into more tears and eventually sobs.

 

Ever since then, Sirius has had a uniform permanently tucked into one of the wardrobes in one of the two guest rooms; of which the Potters have mysteriously stopped using as a guest room ever since that night. He tries to be humble as the Potters call it his room, but he thinks of it like that as well.

 

Ever since then, Sirius has stopped thinking of the house as The Potters’ and rather as home.

 

Such a small detail, yet such a huge difference; it’s become the only place he truly, truly, doesn’t feel like a burden in. This is why it is sort of given that Sirius stays at the Potters’ house whenever he’s able to; always having an automatic invite. Waking up in the Potters’ house feels as natural as anything to Sirius, perhaps even more natural than it does waking up in his house.

 

The morning of the first of December, a morning like one of these, Sirius and James wake up groggily at seven. They almost immediately get out of bed and race each other downstairs once they feel the smell of pancakes and bacon. Sirius let James win. (Yes, he let him win. He didn’t lose the race, not really. Shut up.)

 

The sitting room of the Potters’ is already adorned with a Christmas tree, a slightly wonky star on top of it. There’s gifts already cramped underneath it; but Sirius doesn’t doubt that Effie and Monty have hidden more somewhere in their countless hiding places. James, for all his wonderfulness, really is spoiled after all.

 

The last few steps down the stairs contain a sound of James gasping.

 

“What? What’s up, Prongs?” Sirius says hurrying up.

 

“It’s snowing!” James replies, grin huge, as he pulls Sirius to the closest window.

 

“Wow,” Sirius breathes.

 

Wow, really. Sirius doesn’t like winter all that much, besides his birthday in November although that’s more autumn than it is winter, but things like this always render him speechless in the same way the gorgeousness of summer does.

 

Everything absolutely shines of white. It has snowed a little bit before this year, in the later dates of November, but not this much. Sirius smiles widely, rocking on his feet a bit. His spirits are immediately heightened.

 

“How on earth are we going to get to school? I don’t have my winter jacket,” Sirius asks with a laugh, and James looks at him with a similar smile and shrugs.

 

They are called for breakfast, and they race the short distance there too.

 

(Sirius wins this time. He gets the extra pancake, since they were an uneven amount.

 

James gets more bacon.)

The walk to school is filled with laughter and snow throwing. The walk into the school is filled with the nonchalant essence of two popular boys who are above everything boring and uninteresting.

 

They contain multitudes, what can they say?

 

Once they get into the school they find that they actually, amongst the first times probably, have quite a bit of time to lounge around before their first class starts. This means that spotting Benjy in the hallway ends up in a conversation instead of just a nod in greeting.

 

“Wotcher,” Benjy walks up to them, nodding at Sirius and then James since they don’t quite know each other.

 

Never mind. It’s hard not to know James, for that you’d have to live under a rock as far as popularity goes. James doesn’t know Benjy is a better way to put it.

 

“Wotcher, Ben,” Sirius says with a nod back, James grinning that Potter-grin at him.

 

It’s actually not too common that Benjy and Sirius cross paths in school; since they’re barely in any of the same classes. Benjy is an aspiring basketball coach, Sirius (in courtesy of his mother) studies law.

 

“Congratulations on winning yesterday,” Sirius says. “was it worth missing Knightley’s fall down the stairs?”

 

Benjy laughs.

 

“Kingsley, mate,” he nods. “I mean, the new kid in our team is bloody good. I’m happy to have finally met him.”

 

Sirius perks up at that.

 

“Uh, new kid?”

 

“Yeah. Tall as hell, and he has a bunch of scars. He’s called, like, something a bit strange on R? I can’t remember. He anyways left the game super quickly after we won for some reason. His pop came to get him.”

 

“Remus,” Sirius says, glancing at James.

 

James smiles at him amusedly, well aware of his intentions.

 

If Sirius had only paid the basketball team Benjy is in some more mind, he'd probably have been able to recognise the clothes Remus was wearing the day before, and maybe even been able to strike a conversation with him about it. He curses himself internally.

 

“He’s our new pianist, man,” he says. “he came right after your game to help us.”

 

“Damn. That’s why he left so quickly? Small world,” Benjy nods along.

 

“Maybe you should take inspiration, always skipping choir with every excuse you get. Leaving me alone,” Sirius scowls.

 

Benjy shrugs and laughs.

 

James suddenly nudges Sirius’ shoulder.

 

“We gotta get to class. Mum’s gonna lessen my allowance if I keep being late,” he says, smiling apologetically at Benjy.

 

“I get you, mate. Well, see you around,” he says.

 

“Cheers,” Sirius replies, being dragged away by James.

 

Despite leaving in such a haste, they have to run to class in order to not be late. Even then the door is already closed once they get there, to James dismay.

 

He knocks about six hundred times to then be met with an angry teacher, not satisfied with having his lecture interrupted, who tells them off sternly; Sirius thinks that Effie probably gets an email about James being late, after all.

Classes go by in a haste and it’s very quickly lunch. They’ve finally reunited with Peter at that point, who takes computer science and therefore has very few classes with Sirius and James. Sirius himself also has some classes on his own, to his dismay. James is studying medicine.

 

(Sirius would never, ever admit out loud the jealousy he felt when James admitted just that.

 

If he could do anything, he’d like to redeem himself for all he’s done and is going to do. If Sirius could be remembered for anything in the world, he’d want it to be for helping people; believe it or not.

 

And then he says something without thinking, and suddenly someone is sad and the mood is ruined because Sirius took the joke too far, and he wakes up from the fantasy that he’d ever be capable of the gentleness that medicine requires.)

 

“Padfoot, didn’t you have second period with Snivellus today?” Peter asks, mouth full of food.

 

Sirius scrunches his nose. Usually, he’d be a bit relentless with how he acts towards Snape, but he’d barely had the time to give the git a thought recently.

 

For context: Severus Snape, or Snivellus, has been James’, Peter’s, and Sirius’ number one enemy since they were barely able to read. He smells bad, he’s rude more often than not, and he never lets anyone cheat off of his exams.

 

And, he’s just strange. In a bad way.

 

Second period is to Sirius quite boring, since he doesn’t share it with any of his friends, so he never sees any harm in… well, entertaining himself. More often than not that leaves him with a funny story to tell Peter and James during lunch, and Snape promptly absent.

 

(James has sixth period on Wednesdays with Snape. Usually, he does worse things than Sirius does. Way worse.

 

He can sometimes see Peter shifting on his seat, swallowing nervously, when they talk about whatever cruel prank they’ve played on the boy recently. He’ll frown as if he actually feels like what they’re doing is wrong and not just harmless fun.

 

Sirius only notices because, well, sometimes he feels it too.)

 

“Yeah, mate.”

 

“Did he do anything for the prank we played last week?” James is the one asking now.

 

Sirius shakes his head.

 

“I reckon he needs more time to think than just a week, judging by his ability to think quickly. He can barely get through the simplest of maths questions without stammering,” Sirius says, the other two snickering.

 

James then falls into a story about something that happened in class, making Peter and Sirius listen intently. This is why Sirius almost startles when he suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder, long nails gently pressing into his collarbone. He quickly recognises the gesture and smiles to himself. He can tell immediately that it’s his girlfriend, always greeting him in the same particular way.

 

“Hullo, dearest,” he says dramatically, knowing how Mary hates it when he calls her that.

 

Mary, as he imagined, rolls her eyes and sits down beside him, placing her tray on the table.

 

“Hello, Sirius,” she smiles at him, before greeting the other two as well.

 

“What brings you here?” Sirius frowns in question, not losing his grin.

 

Usually, Mary sits with her group of friends at another table, as Sirius, James, and Peter sit anywhere where it’s empty. Sometimes they sit with the girls, or Mary and her best friend Marlene sit with them, but that’s quite rare.

 

“You know how I told you ‘bout my friend that’s moved from Ireland to here?” Mary says, and Sirius nods, focusing solely on her now that James and Peter have started up their own conversation again.

 

It’s been hard to miss the blabbering about one Lily Evans recently. Apparently, she lived here, in their small town close to London, for all of her and Mary’s childhood before she moved to Ireland which is where her parents are from with the promise to be back. She’s supposed to become a pupil at their school soon.

 

“Well, some of her other childhood friends and me are going grilling with her next week. I was wondering if you’ll come?” she asks, smiling charmingly at him.

 

“James and Pete aren’t getting an invite?” he teases.

 

“If they come, you three will only sit and talk to each other. They’ll have to meet her when she starts here.”

 

He smiles back at that.

 

“ ‘course. I’ll finally find out if this Lily is as wonderful as you say, yeah?”

 

Mary beams at him.

The rest of the day passes in a flash. This might be because of the test Sirius has his last period— and also because he has football practice after school out in the snow for whatever reason. He’s not looked forward to said practice, which naturally makes the day go faster. It turns out his dread wasn’t misplaced; his hands end up numb even after running around practically the whole hour. The changing room is filled with conversations from blokes in similar predicaments, complaining about how cold they are and having discussions about how they can’t wait for practice to end for the year; especially with how many tests they’ve been having piling up over them these past few weeks.

 

Someone from Sirius’ last period asks him about the test they had, and Sirius replies honestly by saying he thinks it probably went alright.

 

He doesn’t mention that, if he knows himself right, that probably means he’s going to get an A. It usually does. 

 

See, Sirius doesn’t need to study very often. He’s quite clever and prides himself with that fact. It certainly makes making time for all the countless hobbies he picks up and switches between easier. There are few subjects he interests himself in, so he doesn’t bother to really nerd himself into them unless he genuinely finds it fun.

 

In a cool and not swotty way of course. He’d never do so with something boring and nerdy like maths. He thinks philosophy— for the most part— is a bunch of rubbish, too; they’re just glorified thinkers, in his humble opinion. The only subjects he properly likes are medical biology and any literary subject. He’s quite good at analysing stuff he reads, and it’s something he entertains himself with whenever he’s forced to be at home with Walburga taking his phone. 

 

The medical biology thing he might have to take to the grave, though. Describing any subject they have with Mr. Barlow as fun makes him sound like Regulus.

 

This is why, in the changing room after football practice, he’s quite shocked as James plops down next to him to ask if he wants to stop by the library before heading home.

 

“It’s bloody six in the afternoon, Prongs?” he retorts with a glance at his phone.

 

“Yeah, I know, but I really need your help with this English assignment on that book Mrs. Smith forced us to read,” James says. “and I know you’ve read it.”

 

Sirius stares at him. James clasps his hands together in a begging manner and pouts jokingly.

 

(Sirius thinks and hopes that it’s in a joking manner, anyway.)

 

The two stare at each other in silence for a second.

 

“Can’t you ask Pete? I’m pretty sure he had it as an assignment last year.”

 

“You know he’s gone home already. And he can’t explain shit to save his life.”

 

Sirius groans.

 

“Alright, alright,” he sighs eventually, because he can never really say no to James.

 

James beams at him as he puts on his glasses. They sit on his nose, you guessed it, slightly lopsidedly.

“It’s ‘cause he thinks swimming reminds him of his mum, ain’t it?” James asks, and Sirius sighs.

 

“Yeah, Prongs, it is because it reminds him of his mum. But why? And why is that bad? You gotta give them more than that,” he replies, rubbing his eye.

 

James groans.

 

“But— why? I mean, the question is just why he doesn’t want to go swimming with his mates in chapter eight. Why do I need to write so much?”

 

“Because, James, you’re supposed to write three thousand words on this essay, and you’ve written five hundred. You’ve gotta give them something to work with,” Sirius groans.

 

James groans right back, leaning back in his chair. A quick glance at the big clock of the library exposes to Sirius that it’s already a bit past seven. He had a snack before, quickly at the cafeteria before it closed, but with all the running around that football requires, especially when it’s this cold, he’s still famished.

 

And his phone goes off every three seconds. He’s a bit scared to find out who might be texting him.

 

“Let’s take a five minute break, yeah?” James says, cracking his knuckles and getting his own phone out.

 

“Alright, mate,” Sirius agrees with a fond smile.

 

James is clever in the same way Sirius is, not really spending a whole lot of time studying either. Although his talents more so lay in maths and science. The only reason they even know how to study is because Peter forces them to come with him to the library and quiz him for exam season.

 

Peter is far from stupid, too. There’s a reason they’re friends after all. Although his intelligence lies in the small clues he picks up around him all the time. He knows everything about everyone, even people he’s never spoken a word to. It’s good for all of them that he knows how to keep a secret.

 

…most of the time, anyway.

 

Sirius, in any case, doesn’t mind helping James. James has explained enough about maths to Sirius in the past to even it out anyway.

 

He does know someone who minds, though.

 

His phone buzzes again.

 

Sirius swallows, switches a bit on his seat. He can’t bring himself to pick it up.

 

He retorts to looking around, instead; trying to distract himself.

 

The library in their town is huge, probably because it’s the only library. It attracts pupils from, primarily, the universities in the area, being open from the earlier hours of the morning to the late hours of the night.

 

The walls are filled with bookshelves, and there is a staircase leading up to even more books. Everywhere there’s little nooks where you can sit and read or study or partake in any activity you fancy. Sirius likes the library because they’re not too stern about being quiet, since it’s so big; there’s a few areas where you’re required to be very silent, but that’s not everywhere.

 

Looking around him, he can recognise some people from some of his classes; the town isn’t big after all. There’s a girl frantically writing down stuff in a book, he recognises her as Emmeline, a quiet girl who also studies law. A bit away from her sits two boys talking to each other seriously, ones he recognises because they always try to talk to Peter in the hallways. Sirius reckons they’re from some of Peter’s nerdier classes, considering he takes computer science, and also considering how uncomfortable Peter always seems when they strike conversation; leaving James and Sirius going through giggles trying to get them to leave him alone. A bit away from them, sits…

 

Remus?

 

Suddenly Sirius forgets all about his buzzing phone and his grumbling stomach. Everything seems brighter, and he can’t help a slight smile. He feels… warmer, for whatever reason.

 

Until he sees who sits next to him.

 

A girl. One with orange hair and one who whispers something in Remus’ ear to make him laugh, his hand coming up to cover his mouth at the sound. He leans in far too close to reply to whatever it was she said.

 

Something much less pleasant burns in Sirius’ stomach at the sight.

 

And, what is Remus doing at the library, anyway? Everyone sort of knows everyone, or at least everyone’s family, because of the size of their town. Sirius would certainly remember a last name like Lupin if he’d heard it before; so Sirius had initially assumed that Remus just did basketball in their club and lived elsewhere, maybe in London not too far away.

 

The town, despite its many universities, only has two secondary schools. Sirius’ school being larger and, dare he say it, a bit more prestigious, than the other school on the other side of town. If Remus were to go to one of them, especially if he were to go to Sirius’ school, he would know. He wouldn’t miss someone like Remus.

 

Unless he’s much older than Sirius himself? But that seems absurd, because—

 

“I’m knackered,” James’ sudden yawn pulls Sirius out of his thoughts.

 

“Yeah, me too mate,” Sirius replies, not taking his eyes off the redhead.

 

“You wanna call it a day, or..?”

 

“Gladly,” Sirius stands up so abruptly the chair makes a screeching noise against the floor.

 

James mutters a short “Jesus” at his antics, before following suit in standing up, quickly picking up his things as Sirius walks ahead of him.

“What was that about?” James asks as they get out.

 

“Nothin’,” Sirius grumbles, because really it was nothing.

 

He doesn’t know what the feeling that’s made a home in his chest is; and why it’s so unpleasant. He doesn’t know why he stormed out. His answer isn’t false, nor is it true. He didn’t leave for no reason, exactly, but he didn’t leave for a reason good enough to give either.

 

“…you stressed about your parents?” James’ breath fogs in the cold air.

 

Sirius swallows. Yeah, that must be it; because he is worried. He nods.

 

“You know you can always come over, yeah?” James says with a small smile. 

 

It’s so dark and they’re so far away from any streetlights that Sirius would probably not be able to see James if not for the white snow around them. They’ve stopped outside of The Cafe, the one that Sirius and James as kids always thought of as the sole purpose they were ever separated from each other.

 

See, the Potters’ is ten minutes away from Grimmauld Place 12. It sounds quite close, unless you take into consideration that despite being across from each other in a straight line on a map the centre of the town splits the two houses. In the centre of town there is a cafe, The Cafe. This means that if you go to the left from the middle of town, you’ll get to Grimmauld Place, and if you go right you’ll get to the Potters’.

 

The world always seemed darker on the left, in Sirius’ opinion.

 

“Yeah, man. I’ll text you,” he smiles tightly at James with a small nod.

 

James’ brows are furrowed as he looks at him with a similar expression.

 

Suddenly, he pulls Sirius into a hug. He pats him a few times on the back before pulling away and holding him by the shoulders with a sigh.

 

“Stay safe, mate,” James murmurs in that comforting manner of his.

 

“Yeah. Stay safe,” Sirius almost whispers back.

 

With a final nod they part, turning away from each other. Sirius thinks about his father’s cold, cold, gaze, his mother’s loud voice, his brother’s way of acting that either resembles Walburga’s or Sirius’ own. He thinks about Remus and the potential girlfriend he saw him with, and he wants to tell James all about it. But he doesn’t know why; he doesn’t know why who Remus chooses to hang around with matters at all. When Sirius walks away he refuses to look back.

 

He doesn’t trust that he won’t run after James if he does.

It’s been ten minutes since Sirius walked away from James, and he can’t make up an excuse.

 

He’s been speed walking away from the cafe since he and James said bye, and then he started to walk slower, and then he decided to go for a short walk around town because. Well. He doesn’t know what to tell his mum.

 

He checks the time, closer to eight now, and he sighs.

 

Saying he’s been with James since Sunday afternoon will certainly earn him a proper punishment, perhaps a week without dinner or a beating from Orion. Saying he was so endorsed with choir that he stayed late and then had no choice but to go to James’ house will earn him a beating, probably. For all his charm, he can never seem to lie to Walburga, which is why saying he’s been studying will earn him a raised eyebrow from Walburga and, you guessed it, also a beating from Orion. Or, because that’s the most convincing one yet, it might just earn him a lighter punishment.

 

And that's about all the excuses Sirius has made up for now.

 

Sirius sighs as he realises he’s finished walking the small route he made up in his head and is back at The Cafe.

 

He inhales in a slight gasp, although, as he turns to the left and sees no one other than Remus.

 

Remus who is now alone, and not walking the maybe-girlfriend-maybe-not-girlfriend home.

 

Sirius suddenly forgets all about his mother. He quickens his steps again, and then slows them down to match Remus’ pace at a distance so that he doesn’t walk past him or get close enough that Remus can notice him. (It’s not weird, he’s also headed this way anyway.)

 

As Remus walks below a streetlight, snow glittering around him, Sirius dares to think that maybe it’s Remus who provides them light, and not the other way around. Maybe it’s just because of the frequency of which Sirius has been thinking of Remus’ golden aura, but he thinks that Remus possibly shines even more in the moonlight. As if a dark winter night is by far the only time the world is anywhere near dark enough to let Remus really, really, glow.

 

For a second, Remus walks directly beneath the moon, and to Sirius something clicks for some absurd reason.

 

The only way he could describe this boy, where he might be from and why on earth he’s so suddenly marched into Sirius’ life, must just simply be the moon on a summer night, sun having just set. With his glowing; reflecting the summer sun completely, the only logical explanation is that this boy must be something more. A descendant of the sky, perhaps. As if Remus would be just enough to light up the whole world, if the sun was to disappear. Or maybe at least enough for Sirius’ lifetime.

 

It’s almost muscle memory when Sirius stops abruptly outside his house, almost having missed it, and Remus continues walking away.

 

Sirius stays staring at the road until he can’t see Remus’ silhouette at all anymore.

 

He’s just about to go inside, when—

 

“Sirius!” Regulus’ undeniable voice calls his name.

 

Sirius turns to the house.

 

The whole thing with Remus feels immediately as if it was some sort of dream from long ago, one he only reminisced about.

 

He tries to focus on Regulus, now.

 

Because of their quite large garden, Regulus has had to go outside for Sirius to hear him. He’s wearing an expensive, like everything they own, pair of winter boots, as well as a pyjamas. He’s got his arms wrapped around himself to keep somewhat warm, his nose already red. 

 

(Sirius smiles, despite himself, when he notices that the sweater Regulus has thrown on is the wrong way. Seeing what shirt peeks out from under it he understands Regulus must’ve put it on right before going outside to hide precisely that.

 

It’s one of Sirius’ old band-shirts, one he gave Regulus last year when he’d gotten too tall for them.)

 

“You better have a good bloody excuse for being gone for so long. Mum is furious,” Regulus says with a scowl.

 

“I’ll make something up.”

 

“Why were you gone, anyway?”

 

“Stayin’ with James.”

 

Regulus clicks his tongue annoyedly.

 

“Could’ve guessed. Well, I’ve been trying to convince mum that you probably just stayed at choir late and then had to dash to James’ place.”

 

Sirius barks a laugh. One of his own potential excuses was pretty much the exact same, but he didn't think Walburga would buy it. Having Regulus on his side will help, though, since he can convince Walburga the best out of the two. The Potters’ house is a bit closer to the church, anyway; and he can just say that they were so kind to pick him up, or something like that.

 

Times like these are, secretly, Sirius’ guilty pleasure; the ones where Regulus and he put their differences aside and help each other through lying to their parents. It makes him feel like they’re really brothers, the times Regulus has knocked on his door like he’s five and can’t sleep again to frantically tell him to back him up when he says he wasn’t sneaking out last night, no, he was helping Sirius study.

 

When morning comes, they won’t speak of this until next time one of them needs help. They’ll barely speak at all. For now, Sirius smiles and says:

 

“She believing you?”

 

“Well, barely! I was hoping you’d have something.”

 

“I’ll make something up, now we’ve got to go inside. You’re shaking. You’ll get pneumonia.”

 

“That’s not even— you don’t get pneumonia like that, Sirius.”

 

“Do too,” no, you don’t.

 

“You’re thinking of hypothermia, Sirius. No, you do—“

 

Someone clears their throat from beside them. Both Sirius and Regulus whip their heads that way to see who it could be, and, you guessed it, there’s Walburga.

 

“Come inside.”

 

“Yes, mother,” both Sirius and Regulus mutter.

 

As they walk inside, Sirius tries to rack his brain for something to tell Walburga.

 

Normally, he wouldn’t care that much. He’d say he was at James’ and take some of Walburga’s screaming, but both Sirius and Regulus know that whatever punishment Walburga has in store this week, with the help from Orion, will be worse than the ones before.

 

Going inside in silence, Walburga telling Regulus to go to his room, only confirms this.

 

That’s when Sirius starts feeling genuine dread. What will he say? That they stayed late at church singing, or praying? Maybe he’ll say they had dinner. None of that is believable. He never stays for any peculiar activities the church holds. Other than choir, the only other thing he’d do at church would be—

 

“Sirius. I remember telling you that you were to come home right after choir on Sunday, did I not?”

 

“Yes you did, mother,” Sirius replies, chewing his lip.

 

“Why did you not come home?” her voice is in that scary calm.

 

For a long, long, time, Sirius kept mistaking it as forgiveness. Love, understanding. He knows better now; one wrong step and she’s screaming, but this time maybe she’ll be screaming for Orion.

 

There’s something else in her tone, too. Satisfaction, gloating, of sorts. As if to say she’s finally got something that she can use against him in some sort of twisted justified way.

 

Sirius swallows, and then blurts out:

 

“I was practicing piano, mother.”

 

“…piano?” Walburga’s tone goes over to sound a bit shocked, now.

 

She probably is. Sirius is, to tell the truth, a bit shocked too. Sirius after all was so insistent on quitting, way before. He doesn’t answer for a second.

 

The thing Sirius thought he’d be doing at church, other than choir, is hanging around with Remus. That’d be an excuse that would probably be true in another universe, where he wasn’t too stunned by Remus’ whole… moon-ness that he didn’t end up daring to speak to him.

 

And the first thing he thought about after that was, apparently, piano. Because Remus plays piano, or something. Well. Better something than nothing.

 

“Yes, piano,” Sirius continues. “I’ve found that I want to start again.”

 

Walburga calms down, deflating in that way that Sirius now knows is her real calm stance. Sirius Black just might be a genius, as she clasps her hands together and smiles a tight smile, assuring him wordlessly and probably unknowingly that she won’t be getting Orion.

 

“Well. I’ll find you a teacher immediately.”

 

Sirius shakes his head with a smile.

 

“No need. See, I’ve already got one. He’s quite wonderful, very good at teaching someone on my level, the reason I’ve been feeling so motivated to play again.”

 

“Oh? Who is this?”

 

“Mr. Lupin. He’s called Mr. Lupin.”

Chapter 3: The Strangest Seventeen Year Olds

7th of December

 

On Monday, Walburga let Sirius go to bed without as much as a slap, to his endless glee. The rest of the week Sirius makes sure to sit at the piano pretending that he’d been there the whole afternoon whenever Walburga gets home, to then stretch and go to his room as if he’s tired from practicing. She always nods at him as if she’s glad he’s doing something worthy with his time.

 

It’s all going swimmingly. His mother at least seems fooled. Not to mention Sirius’ ulterior motive; because there always is with him.

 

See, there is a person that doesn’t know he’s a piano prodigy. A person Sirius wants to fool with the same lie he told his mother; one who lines up with it perfectly. A person he’d very much like to become friends with.

 

Remus.

 

Sunday comes quickly, and by then Sirius has a plan.

 

After choir, he’ll hurry and stop Remus before he has the chance to leave, compliment his playing, and then ask if he can teach him. Simple enough. Sirius’ endless wit and charm will probably make Remus say yes and stay extra every Sunday and other extra-practice-days in the foreseeable future, and Sirius can spend his Sunday afternoons admiring his face and his hands and his, well, everything whilst pretending to listen to Remus’ teaching.

 

In a completely friendly way, of course.

 

It’s been a long, long, time since he was last excited for choir. The last time was a few months back when he and James had decided to play a prank in the midst of practice, but that’s another story.

 

The whole singing part goes by quickly. Maybe because Sirius isn’t alone this week, and starts chatting with Benjy any quiet moment they get; making the whole thing a bit more fun.

 

And, well, also for another reason. Remus has combed his hair all properly this week, making his usually frizzy curls lay obediently flat against his head, and he’s wearing more suiting attire considering they’re in church; consisting of a white button up and a tie. He sometimes pulls on it as if he’s been forced to wear it, or something, and Sirius finds it quite endearing.

 

There’s also the whole watching Remus part. Getting to look at him is enough to make everything more fun and just a bit enchanted, as well.

 

Maybe he’s a bit too enamoured in this, though, because he’s barely able to act quickly enough as the clock strikes half past; signaling practice is over. Remus stands up with a polite smile towards Mrs. Brown, before starting to walk towards the door to leave.

 

Sirius startles, and dashes after him.

 

“Hey— heyheyhey, hey, Remus?” Sirius calls right as they get outside, successfully stopping the other bloke.

 

Remus turns around, seemingly confused, and suddenly the world goes completely and entirely quiet.

 

Remus’ eyes are a blend between green and brown in an almost magical way. He has to slightly tilt his head down to look at Sirius properly because of his height and he has freckles lightly dusted over his tanned skin.

 

“ ‘lo,” Remus says, giving a very small nod and a slight smile.

 

Sirius stands quiet for a second. Perhaps a second too long, because Remus has to repeat:

 

“Uh, hello?” Sirius’ cheeks immediately heat.

 

This was not how this was supposed to go.

 

“Hey, yeah, hey, Remus, right?” Sirius blabbers.

 

“Yes. You are?” Remus asks, looking amused; probably because Sirius has repeated his name twice now.

 

“Sirius. Sirius Black. You… might know me from uh, choir?”

 

Remus snorts a charming laugh because he can’t do anything awkwardly, apparently.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Sirius is sure he’s tomato-red now. Of course Remus knows him from choir; he just left the bloody church right behind Remus. Get it together.

 

“I was just… yeah, okay, you play piano, yeah? Yeah, of course you do, uh. Can you teach me? You play well. I mean,” Sirius stammers.

 

Remus smiles at him, tilting his head. He looks like he’s considering the offer.

 

“I have basketball soon, so I can’t today. I’m free next week, though. We have an extra practice next on… Friday, no? I could try to teach you then, after choir, for starters?” he says politely.

 

“Yes. Yeah. That’s fine.”

 

“Great. I’ll see you, then.”

 

“See you,” Sirius says far too quietly, before Remus turns around and leaves.

 

Sirius stands still for a long time, before he remembers that he told his mother he had a piano lesson after choir today, since that’s what he thought he’d be doing, and therefore is expected to not be home for…

 

He glances at the time. For two more hours. And James is at his grandmother’s, so he can’t go there.

 

Sirius throws his head back and groans.

“I mean. I’ll just pretend, like,” Sirius says approximately thirty minutes later, having ran to Peter’s house to tell him all about the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened to him.

 

Or, as you know it, his first conversation with Remus Lupin.

 

“You’ll pretend to be bad at piano to, what, be his friend? That’s a bit much, mate.”

 

“Well, if you say it like that,” Sirius replies.

 

“I’m honestly more surprised he even agreed.”

 

Sirius doesn’t have a lot to say to that other then:

 

“Well. Yeah. Me too actually.”

 

“The ideas you have sometimes, Padfoot,” Peter shakes his head with a huff of a laugh. “why do you need to be his friend so bad, anyway?”

 

“Well, because he’s—“ Sirius breaks off, making a gesture with his hand. “…good.”

 

“Good?”

 

“Yes, you know? Like, I really want to know him. I want to know him.”

 

“Because he’s… good.”

 

“No, not like…” Sirius sighs. “I say he’s good because I think he’s good, right? And I want to know if that theory is true, you know? Maybe he’s the biggest arsehole our town’s ever seen for all I know. But I need to know.”

 

Peter shakes his head.

 

“As always, then.”

 

“…as always?”

 

“Yeah, as always. You always do stuff cause you wanna know something, like. For example; most people study because they have to to get a passing grade, but I only ever find you studying when you genuinely want to. Like you have a thirst for knowledge, I s’pose.”

 

Sirius is just about to reply with a joke of some sort, before he pauses. Because— huh?

 

Thirst for knowledge? Sirius isn’t a nerd, as you know. He’s cool and nonchalant about school and knowing things and reading and, well, everything nerdy he from time to time partakes in. But he supposes, as another one of those things that Peter just knows better than everyone else, that he might like knowing things after all.

 

At least when it comes to blokes like Remus.

 

“Huh,” Sirius replies, frowning. “I mean, I suppose.”

 

Peter just shakes his head and smiles.

It’s first later that day, around seven, when he gets a text from Mary, and therefore remembers promising to come along for a grilling with her mates. Which turns out to, apparently, be today.

 

Why they would choose to set the date on a Sunday is beyond Sirius, considering they’re probably going to— well— drink, but he supposes he’ll let it slide. Maybe he’ll just skip the first of tomorrow’s classes in the scenario that he gets a particularly nasty hangover.

 

He gets ready and leaves in a haste after reassuring Mary he didn’t forget the date even though he did, because they are apparently supposed to meet at half past and Mary already gets angry at him for forgetting to pick her up for events and such as is.

 

But only ever in public.

 

See, their relationship is an open book, of sorts. But Sirius and Mary as individuals? You can’t read them. Perhaps that’s why they’re a couple. If you were to ask one of them about what they argued about last week, or why Mary isn’t talking to Sirius another week, they would tell the complete and honest truth.

 

If you were to ask why they got together, in the context of who confessed and how they figured they fancied each other, they would not. Because that truth is too personal. That truth speaks about ‘Mary’ and ‘Sirius’, not the most popular couple in school.

 

Sirius, admitting it here and now on his way to Mary’s house, loves Mary. He’s very, very sparse with saying that, but he does. Yet, he loves James and Peter and Marlene and will maybe even come to love Remus and that lass Lily, too. And the love he feels for Mary is not much different other than the fact that she’s, well, very fit, which Sirius pays some mind to sometimes.

 

Whenever they hang out alone, Sirius accidentally drops hints to this; that their relationship is a bit of an act. Usually, Mary just smiles in response and tells him something equally cryptic on the same topic of ‘them’.

 

Because Sirius only got with Mary for his parents to stop asking him about when he’s going to get a girlfriend. He was the one who confessed first, if he doesn’t remember wrong; but it’s all a bit of a blur. He’s quite sure Mary laughed at him before accepting, or maybe she was the one who told him first, making him “confess” too.

 

Mary is only with Sirius for… a reason that Sirius doesn’t know. But he knows she doesn’t love him like that, that she loves him like he loves her.

 

He knocks on her door, and tries to forget about all of that. If Mary doesn’t want him to know why she’s with him, he won’t. There’s no use in trying to pry the truth from her if she doesn’t want you knowing it.

 

Mary is, to his relief, the one who opens the door. Her dad is quite protective and always asks him a gazillion questions whenever he’s over, her mother swatting him at the shoulder at the questions which are too intrusive. It’s all always pretty awkward and Sirius has had enough of embarrassment for today already.

 

He smiles when he sees Mary, anyway. Her makeup is nicely done and she’s wearing a cute outfit consisting of jeans, a cardigan, and gold jewelry; making her dark skin shine. She puts on her jacket and her boots after greeting him, which are trending at the moment and therefore probably doesn’t provide her with any warmth. Her hair has a slight definition to her somewhat poofy curls, making Sirius a bit more conscious of his own hair. His hair doesn’t come close to the curliness of Mary’s hair, although it is quite curly usually; right now probably more frizzy than normal, though, since he hasn’t washed it yet.

 

“Looking gorgeous, McDonald,” he smiles at her as she walks outside.

 

“The same, Black,” she replies.

 

Sirius starts to follow Mary’s lead as she starts walking, immediately getting reminded of Mary’s quick walking pace. Despite being quite a bit shorter than Sirius she always walks much quicker than him; almost shockingly so. It’s something that humbles him immensely.

 

“So. Why a Sunday?” Sirius asks with a frown when they’ve walked for a bit, suddenly remembering the day and his earlier question of why it was chosen.

 

Mary looks at him with an amused glint in her eye.

 

“There won’t be any booze, Sirius,” she says knowingly, because she can apparently read minds now too.

 

“Huh? Whadd’ya mean? Why not?”

 

She shrugs.

 

“I suppose they just wanted the whole reunion to be… I don’t know, present. Something to remember.”

 

Sirius groans in response. Then, remembering he doesn’t want to make his dearest girlfriend angry, he corrects himself with a:

 

“Well, alright,” but he can’t help thinking he’d much rather stay home now that those news are out.

 

Apparently not succeeding in keeping Mary satisfied, she replies huffing whilst swatting at his shoulder.

The walk there is cold, and Sirius then questions why on earth the activity Mary’s mates chose was grilling of all things. Not partying in a nice and warm house, no, Sirius is cursed to having to almost swim through snow to get to the bloody forest.

 

(Okay, not swim maybe; that’s a bit dramatic considering there’s only about a centimeter of snow on the ground, but still.)

 

When he voices as much he gets a stern command to stop complaining from Mary, so he promptly shuts up for the rest of the walk. 

 

The walk takes them into the forest located behind the town, Mary walking with confident steps up a small trail before she promptly stops and admits she has to check her Maps app because she doesn’t know where they’re going, before they’re back on a larger trail again.

 

It’s not really that far, Sirius was a bit overdramatic. And, anyway, even with the scarce streetlights the path is illuminated just enough to be cosy whilst still letting Sirius see. In favor of his jacket, scarf, his gloves, and the walking Sirius isn’t even freezing that much either. Sirius is almost coming around to the whole idea and getting a bit pumped once they get close. Maybe the company is the type of people that don’t need alcohol to be fun?

 

Although when Mary claims they only have to walk up a hill before they’re there, Sirius finds himself a bit… underwhelmed. He soon sees the slight glow of a fire, but he doesn’t hear any voices nor does he hear any music. His fantasies are crushed completely as soon as he sees he has to walk through a bush. Maybe the whole thing will make for a fun story to tell Peter and James, at the very least.

 

Sirius is already trying to make up an excuse to why he has to very immediately go home, sorry, I forgot I need to babysit Regulus, when he finally starts hearing some sign of life; a voice.

 

The person is speaking pretty quietly, so Sirius can’t hear what is being said, but as he walks the last bit between two trees right behind Mary, he sees that there really is a bunch of people present ahead of them. 

 

The path has led them to quite a large clearing, and there’s not exactly a dance floor put up in the midst of the place, but Sirius can, with the help of a few lights someone must’ve brung and the fire, see that there’s a bunch of blankets scattered on the bench as well as some portable tables with various things on them around the fireplace.

 

The people around the fire still don't seem to have noticed their arrival, all leaning over the slightly rounded bench to listen to the person that is speaking with great interest. He recognises a few of them, of course Mary’s best friend Marlene but also a girl in Regulus’ year named Dorcas (if he’s not mistaken, as he apparently was with Knightley).

 

The person they’re all seemingly listening to sits right next to a redhead, the former Sirius recognises immediately.

 

Remus.

 

Suddenly he’s way happier to be here, after all.

 

“Mary!” all of a sudden Remus gets interrupted by the squealing of the girl beside him, the red-head, who stands up and runs to hug Mary.

 

Sirius notices that she’s the same person from the library, the maybe-girlfriend, and he immediately ups his pace to sit down next to Remus where she sat before. As she’s hugged Mary, she starts looking around her with a frown, before spotting him in her place. Sirius raises an eyebrow with a grin.

 

She just shakes her head, before walking up to him and reaching out a hand.

 

“The boyfriend, I presume? My name is Lily Evans,” she says with a polite smile.

 

Sirius wants to scoff at the hand she’s held out, and at the presentation of her full name— as if they’re at one of his family’s reunion dinners, but he instead opts for shaking her hand and smiling back.

 

“That’s right. Sirius Black,” he says.

 

She makes a sort of questioning gesture at his choice of seating, as if she wants her seat back, but Remus sits at the very far end of the bench and giving his place up would mean having to sit quite far away from him, so Sirius isn’t quite ready to give it up.

 

“Sorry, alright if I sit here? See, I’m really sensitive to the cold, and the fire warms so nicely here…” he smiles his most charming smile.

 

Lily doesn’t seem amused, but glancing over at Remus and having some sort of silent conversation with him, she eventually shrugs and goes to sit elsewhere with Mary.

 

Sirius doesn’t care where. He immediately turns his head to Remus, almost whispering a:

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hullo,” Remus replies, eyebrows raised in a sort of surprised manner, smile on his lips. “I was just telling a story as you both showed up.”

 

Sirius stops his hands from drumming against his thighs at the information. Beside him the laughs of Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily seem so far away.

 

“What kinda story?”

 

“Horror. Wanted to get into the whole grilling spirit, you know, even though Halloween is over by now.”

 

“I’ve actually never really been grilling before,” Sirius says. “or, I’ve been camping, and we grilled a bit then, but not like this.”

 

“Hm. Fun. Your first time, then,” Remus replies.

 

“Yeah. I’ve been super excited,” Sirius lies.

 

A white lie, he decides. Remus doesn’t need to know he was planning on leaving until he saw the other.

 

“Happy I’m not the only bloke, at least. Thought I’d be.”

 

Sirius laughs a bit too loudly.

 

“Yeah, no, I’m here. Is anyone else comin’?” Sirius asks.

 

Remus sighs, pursing his lips together, before eventually shaking his head.

 

“Maybe Lily’s other friend, but… no. No, it’ll only be us I think.”

 

“That’s nice,” Sirius replies.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“We’ve got a bit of hot chocolate,” Remus gestures slightly at a small table that’s been set up just a meter away. “If you want.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Sirius says, going to stand up.

 

He keeps on staring at Remus as he walks up to the table, so he almost trips over it.

 

Remus hides his mouth with his hand like he did at the library when he laughs, and something about it makes the fire burn brighter immediately.

 

When Sirius has taken his hot chocolate, only now noticing that Remus is cradling one of his own, he plops down on his seat again.

 

“What made you want to learn piano, then?” Remus suddenly asks, and Sirius blinks in confusion.

 

He’s a prodigy, for— oh. Wait. He did lie about that one, actually.

 

Another white lie, if you may.

 

“Oh— yeah. I just… I dunno, I think you’re really great, and I got inspired,” he shrugs. “oh, and Freddie Mercury.”

 

Remus barks a startled laugh, and Sirius thinks it might just be the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

 

He doesn’t have the time to cover his mouth as he laughs, this time, and he has one of those smiles that light up his whole face on his lips. His laugh isn’t too quiet, nor too loud, it’s all just— enough.

 

It’s the one word, he finds, that is always prominent in relation to Remus in Sirius’ thoughts. Enough.

 

“Oh yes, of course, and Freddie Mercury,” Remus muses with a smile, not noticing that Sirius’ mouth is slightly agape.

 

The second Sirius notices, he lifts his cup of hot chocolate to his lips and sips it flusteredly, trying to play it off.

 

“I love Queen,” he says after his sip.

 

“Me too. My first heartbreak was finding out Freddie died long before I was even born.”

 

Sirius grins at that.

 

“D’you play any other instruments?” he asks.

 

Remus scrunches his nose and shrugs.

 

“Bit of bass. I wanted to learn guitar but bass is easier, so maybe in the future.”

 

“Oh, me too! Or, I play guitar, mostly,” this statement isn’t a lie, actually.

 

Ever since he was twelve and running on too much energy, music teacher shoving an acoustic guitar in their arms and teaching them how to play the simplest of songs, Sirius has had practicing it as his go-to whenever he’s bored. It’s the one thing that helps him get rid of excess energy in a slightly different but still similar way to how football does.

 

Remus hums in response.

 

Sirius suddenly remembers Benjy, then, and their shared basketball club. He, because he’s curious, asks:

 

“So. You uh, also play Basketball, huh? You any good?”

 

He realises after he’s said it that asking you any good might not have been the best call— it sounds rude, as if he thinks Remus might be bad. He really needs to start watching his tongue around Remus more.

 

“Well, yeah, I guess,” Remus replies with the huff of a laugh, successfully breaking Sirius out of his thoughts. “It’s fun. D’you play any sports?”

 

Sirius nods, the slight feeling of fear at having upset Remus going away and being replaced by an excited one immediately.

 

“Yeh. Football,” he nods.

 

Remus hums in response, and Sirius opts to not speak of it anymore. He knows that most people that don’t play the sport don't like it quite as much as he does, and gets bored with him talking about the sport as unrelentingly as he can sometimes. Instead, he asks:

 

“You're going to go pro sometime, then?” he remembers Benjy talking about how good their club is, and how he thinks all of them have quite a good shot at getting to do basketball professionally sometime; Sirius reckons Remus must have a chance if he’s been accepted into it.

 

“Nah,” Remus replies. “I’m quite lucky your club let me in at all, really.”

 

Sirius doesn’t like the self-deprecating tone of that, so he frowns and asks:

 

“I’m sure you're great, man.”

 

“Well, thanks, but it’s not only that. I reckon they’re only going to let me play for another, like, year.”

 

“Huh? Why?”

 

Remus is just about to answer when they’re interrupted by Marlene shoving Sirius down on the ground behind them.

 

“Wha— hey!” Sirius exclaims as Marlene completely ignores him and crawls over to Remus instead.

 

“Oh, Remus, continue your story!” she says excitedly, Dorcas, Lily, and Mary agreeing, apparent that they’d spoken of it earlier when Sirius and Remus had been talking.

 

“Ah…” Remus says with a smile, holding out his hand to help Sirius up. “well, I’ll take it from the beginning so Mary and Sirius here get the full experience, alright?”

 

Sirius sits up and dusts off his hair with a glare at Marlene, but agrees nonetheless because. Well. He really does want to hear that story.

 

“Alright, it starts like this: it was a dark and stormy— snowy— night…”

“And then— James scores a goal. And everyone screams. Me the loudest, of course,” Sirius rambles.

 

It’s a bit later, now, Remus’ story since long having been told (Sirius would never admit to getting scared by it) and hot chocolate having been drained and refilled a plural of times and conversations having been made. Sirius has found Remus doesn’t particularly seem to mind his endless chattering; even when it consists of nothing but football.

 

“Thrilling,” Remus chuckles, tilting his head.

 

“I know. Oh— you should totally come to one of our games sometime! They’re totally epic!”

 

Remus nods.

 

“Yeah, ‘course, if I’m able to,” he smiles, and he really does sound genuine when he says it.

 

Remus checks his phone almost as an afterthought, looking a bit shocked as he does so.

 

“Ah… I’ve got to dash, apparently. Sorry.”

 

Remus smiles apologetically at Sirius and Sirius immediately scowls in an almost pouty way.

 

“What? But it’s only been, like,” Sirius quickly glances at the time as well, being able to see Remus’ screen. “…three hours?”

 

He’s shocked by the revelation. It’s felt like just twenty minutes has gone by since he and Remus first talked, but since then they have played a few board games, and he has spoken about football with Marlene and Remus, and he has had the time to get to know Lily (who is not Remus’ girlfriend, for the record) better…

 

Huh. Maybe it has been three hours. Time flies when you’re having fun, Sirius supposes. Perhaps that’s the most shocking realisation of them all.

 

Sirius genuinely had fun.

 

Perhaps, he thinks as Remus stands up and bids everyone else farewell before leaving the clearing, he might have a certain someone to thank for that.

 

When Remus isn’t visible anymore, Sirius suddenly feels like he’s at a loss of where to look. He realises then, to his embarrassment, that he’d practically been staring at Remus the entire night.

 

Well. It’s just that… he’s so bright. It’s like being told to ignore the moon completely a particularly dark night; it’s practically impossible.

 

Sirius goes to sit closer to the girls, and then stares at the fire, because that’s the only thing that even comes close to being as warm and golden as Remus.

 

When Mary nudges him and asks if he and Remus are best friends, now, Sirius replies with a laugh and stating that they were just bonding because they were the two only blokes at the meet-up; as if the whole ordeal has been quite ordinary and maybe even forgettable. As if Sirius only talked to Remus out of convenience, and vice versa.

 

But that’s not quite true.

It’s about ten when they finally get back to town, where he drops off Mary by walking with her home and then Marlene to avoid having to go to his house so quickly.

 

Sirius then slowly walks home through the snow with a sigh.

 

Sirius is popular, everyone knows this. He has a girlfriend that is popular and two best friends that are popular, and these people who he has just spent three hours with aren’t any of that at all.

 

They don’t bring alcohol to a grilling in the middle of winter because they want to be present for it, and they tell scary stories for fun, and with them time flies by because with them Sirius truly has fun.

 

Sirius thinks, for an odd second, that they probably know something he doesn’t. He reckons that they’re the kind of people who study on the weekends instead of partying, and the kind of people someone like Severus Snape would want to hang out with, and maybe they’ve found something in that which Sirius has been fumbling around to find at house parties and in so much booze and popularity and how others perceive him.

 

And, for what it’s worth, Mary really, really, glowed today. Like she couldn’t imagine being somewhere better. Sirius is sure he did too, in all honesty.

 

For all the strangeness of this particular afternoon, Sirius finds he doesn’t want to dwell on it. He smiles as he kicks a rock, clenching his fingers together happily in his pockets as he walks. The leftover feeling of happiness makes a nice and warm place in his chest.

 

Right now, he finds he doesn’t want to dwell on exactly why the feeling exists; nor why it seems so directly connected to Remus Lupin.

 

And, now, on his way to a cold and dark house he’s never been able to call home, he clings to it.

 

Notes:

Who do you think the person who couldn’t come to the grilling is ??
This is one of my favourite chapters so far, I hope you enjoyed it !!

Chapter 4: The Most Gorgeous Girl in the World

8th of December

 

It snows even more the night between Sunday and Monday, and Sirius is equally delighted— it’s gorgeous after all— as he is a little bit annoyed. He both has to walk to school, as well as have football after school considering it’s Monday, which both kind of suck with the weather. If he has a little bit of luck they might have football inside, but that’s not really good either because Sirius doesn’t like inside football. He thinks it’s, well, cramped for a lack of better word. His one silver lining is that practice is over for the season very soon; only starting up again during the later dates of spring.

 

He gets dressed and packs his bag before breakfast, because according to his lovely parents a family is supposed to have every meal possible together. If his mother had it her way Sirius would probably be sitting with an arm wrapped around Regulus’ shoulders at lunch in school, too.

 

Sirius walks downstairs when the clock strikes seven at the second, and sits down at his designated chair. He’s, as always, the last one down; despite always being on the dot. Even when he’s trying he seems to be the odd one out within the Blacks.

 

One positive with being from a wealthy family, even if as bad as Sirius’ is, is that the food is always amazing with their personal chef making it all. Today is Sirius’ favourite, an English breakfast. His mouth waters at the sight.

 

His mother, feeling merciful apparently, lets them dig into the food with nothing more than a nod.

 

Because everything has to be perfectly, down to even how often they speak at breakfast, routinely polite, his mother speaks:

 

“So. Sirius. Will we have the pleasure of seeing you play at the choral music concert this Christmas?” she asks with a nod.

 

Sirius stills, realising he needs to thread lightly. He’d already forgotten all about that with the piano. He forgets about the lie a lot, considering how much of an impact it seems to have on his everyday life. His forgetfulness might become problematic in the future.

 

“Uh. No. Unfortunately not, I was a bit too late with starting up again so they’ve already found someone,” Sirius says with a small shrug.

 

“I’ll call your choirmaster right no—“

 

“No need, mother!” Sirius blurts out, leaving the faces around the table looking a bit shocked— or at least startled.

 

If he takes Remus’ place as pianist because of his mother his whole plan to become Remus’ friend will crumble and Remus will never want to talk to him again. The other bloke actually has a passion for the instrument, in contrast to Sirius. Of course, Sirius can’t let that happen.

 

“I mean—,” Sirius clears his throat. “I’m singing, so there’s no need.”

 

Walburga raises an eyebrow in an unimpressed manner.

 

“Well. Alright. I suppose we’ll get to see you play sometime over the spring, then?”

 

“Yes. Yeah, of course,” Sirius nods along, happy she’s dropping the subject.

 

Regulus clears his throat.

 

“Father, could I please have the butter?” Sirius resists the urge to laugh.

 

Always so quick with changing the topic at the least bit of uncomfortableness, that Regulus.

 

Orion makes a noncommittal hum from where he’s glued behind his phone screen, typing something out. Sirius presumes it’s, as it always is with Orion, work.

 

Walburga, who sits beside her husband, sighs and hands Regulus the butter herself. Regulus thanks her.

 

Sirius purses his lips in boredom, reading the time on the clock in the dining room quickly.

 

Luckily enough, it’s nearing half past, which is about the time they’re usually dismissed from breakfast. Sirius shovels down a last bit of sausage before Walburga states as much, leading him to go back upstairs again. He finishes his usual morning routine in the usual ten minutes it takes him to do so.

 

Sirius leaves for school not much later, kicking snow with his every step. He buries his hands in his pockets and nudges his scarf over his nose to shield himself from the cold, listening to music blissfully. Everything seems, besides the almost-slip-up with his piano lie, quite ordinary.

 

Seems being the key word.

 

It’s first when Sirius gets to his destination, school, he realises something must be off.

 

Sirius is rarely wrong about his feeling that something is off. He finds now that everything is too quiet. Too still. He raises an eyebrow to himself and walks inside the building, through hallways to his locker, waving hello to some acquaintances on his way there.

 

Sirius can’t spot the change right away. He doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, really. Maybe he thought that he’d arrive at school to realise Snivellus had pulled a huge revenge-prank on Sirius and his mates. Or, that he’d missed that it’s weekend, or something. He almost drops the off feeling completely in his relief that none of these predicaments proves to be true.

 

The thought almost immediately comes back once he gets to his locker he catches sight of James and Peter talking to each other, though. They seem to be trying to keep their tones low, as to not draw too much attention to themselves; which is quite rare for any conversation involving James in itself. Sirius hurries up to them.

 

“Wotcher,” he greets.

 

“Sirius, have you heard there’s a new girl in our year?” James exclaims in a whisper-scream as Sirius raises his eyebrows and gets closer.

 

Aha.

 

“Er,” he frowns, thinking back.

 

Suddenly he remembers Mary telling him, a week ago, that Lily was supposed to start their school eventually. He doesn’t reckon any other pupils would be allowed to start this late in the year, practically the last week, anyway. He nods slowly.

 

“Well, yeah, if her name is Lily Evans.”

 

“Is she ginger?”

 

“Yeah, mate.”

 

“Enchanting green eyes?”

 

“I mean… sure, yeah.”

 

“The most gorgeous summer-y freckles you’ve ever seen in your—“

 

“I mean, she has freckles,” Sirius says with a frown, because he has seen Remus before.

 

“Oh, Sirius, there she is,” James takes him by the shoulders and tries to subtly turn him around so that he can see her.

 

And. Yeah. That’s her. She’s walking next to Mary who, when she spots him, waves happily. Sirius waves back and nods at Lily, who smiles at him to the eternal glee of James who makes a small sound next to Sirius.

 

“Oh wow, Pads, her smile,” Sirius looks over at Peter for help, who just shrugs at him slightly. “I think she’s the one.”

 

“Huh?” Peter and Sirius say in chorus.

 

“She has that… glow, you know? I’m sure it’s the universe trying to tell me she’s it.”

 

“Well, slow down, mate,” Peter says through a small laugh of disbelief. “have you ever even talked to her?”

 

James slowly shakes his head.

 

“No… not yet. She’s friends with Mary, though, isn’t she?”

 

Sirius nods.

 

“Yeah… she’s, well, her best mate. I was at this grilling with her yesterday, actually.”

 

“What?” James whips his head around.

 

Sirius gives a small nod in confirmation.

 

“You really need to start listening when Mary tells us things more, man,” he laughs.

 

“Well, are you and Gorgeous like, mates, then?”

 

“I mean… maybe?”

 

“Padfoot, I need you to do a favour for me,” suddenly James is taking Sirius hands and staring him deeply in his eyes. “introduce us, please.”

 

Sirius gives a small shrug, smiling amusedly at his friend’s antics.

 

“Sure, man. I’ll tell Mary to help me organise a dinner where our friend groups meet or something, yeah?”

 

James wraps his arms around Sirius immediately, lifting him off the ground.

 

“You’re a bloody angel, Sirius!”

 

“Argh— Prongs put me down!”

“Ohmigosh— yes, that’s what I was telling her!” Mary is, from the sounds of it, talking to someone on the phone when Sirius finds her.

 

It’s about two hours after James begged Sirius to arrange a meeting between him and Lily, and Sirius has had to search for Mary all over.

 

After skipping his third class in favour of looking at Mary’s schedule, only to find her skipping as well a few halls away from where she’s supposed to be, he doesn’t quite have the patience to wait for her to hang up.

 

He walks up to her and waves, distracting her from her conversation.

 

“Oh— okay, I’ll have to call you back, yeah? Okay. Bye. See you. Kisses!” Mary says before hanging up.

 

Then, she promptly groans.

 

“Urgh, Sirius. Thanks for saving me. She’s the most annoying person to have ever walked planet earth, I’m telling you.”

 

“Why are you skipping to talk to her, then?”

 

“I’m not skipping, Sirius!” Mary says, scandalised, as if that’s an unfair assumption to make; it isn’t. “Mr. Smith is sick so we have a free period.”

 

“Alright,” Sirius says, holding his hands up as if to calm her. “well, I was just wondering if you and, y’know, Lily and that lot is free for dinner with me, Peter, and, y’know, James this week?”

 

Mary has started applying lipgloss at this point, using her camera as a mirror. She glances at him in an unimpressed manner, raising her eyebrows.

 

“For whatever reason?” she asks with the ghost of a smile on her lips.

 

“Well, just so we can get to know each other better.”

 

“ ‘Cause James fancies Lily, no?”

 

“Wha— how do you know that?”

 

“It doesn’t take a bloody genius to figure out the first thing about those longing glances he was giving her this morning, Sirius,” she says, almost unimpressed.

 

Sometimes Sirius forgets about how, just as Peter, observant Mary is. It’s part of the reason she’s so popular: she always knows what someone needs, why they need it, and how they need it.

 

It’s part of the reason she’s so feared, as well.

 

“Well, alright, yeah, I guess it’s ‘cause he… fancies her,” Sirius scrunches his nose as he says it. “and I wanna meet her again, anyway. We didn’t have the time to talk too much last.”

 

“Yeah, ‘cause you were talking to Remus,” Mary muses with a smile.

 

Sirius shoots one back, shrugging.

 

“He’s nice.”

 

“Yeah, he is.”

 

Mary purses her lips, then. She squints at Sirius, quiet for a moment, before shaking her head, as if she caught herself doing something absurd.

 

“What?” Sirius asks with a frown.

 

“Nothing,” Mary says.

 

It’s not with that tone that she uses sometimes; everyone knows the one. You know, when it’s certainly something going on, really, but she doesn't want to say what. That tone she uses with a condescending look that tells Sirius she thinks he’s being oblivious.

 

This tone is just confused. Sirius doesn’t know what to make of that. Sirius doesn’t know why he’s thinking so hard about it at all.

 

“…whatever. I’m only free this afternoon this week, though. We can only meet then,” Mary says suddenly, going back to touching up her makeup as if that last little moment of strangeness never happened.

 

“Me and James have football today.”

 

“Well, I can only do today.”

 

Sirius sighs.

 

“I’ll talk to James about skipping.”

 

Mary smiles, standing up, before going over to him and pressing a light peck to his cheek.

 

“Thanks, love,” she says, before waving and leaving the hallway quite abruptly.

 

Sirius sighs and shakes his head, smiling fondly.

 

She really is something, that Mary.

For all his love for football, James doesn’t hesitate in telling Sirius ‘yes’ when he says they need to skip practice for dinner. Matter of fact, he practically drags Sirius along to his house to help him pick out an outfit that will catch Lily’s eye. He claims Sirius’ judgement is crucial since he must know exactly what she likes, considering he’s met her once already. Sirius doubts the theory, but comes along anyway.

 

Once they’ve successfully, somewhat, tamed James’ hair and gotten him in a nice outfit, they lay down on James’ floor. It’s where they’re as James asks:

 

“Do you reckon Lily likes reading, Pads?”.

 

“I dunno,” Sirius says, thinking about his impression of Lily. “maybe.”

 

“Like, does she seem like the swotty type?”

 

“Well… kind of,” Sirius decides.

 

“Hm. What’s a good book that will certainly make her impressed, if I say I’ve read it? Like, a sophisticated one. Eloquent. Although one that will be simple enough that she doesn’t think I’m lying.”

 

Sirius narrows his eyes, turning his head and looking James up and down, trying to judge how intelligent he looks from an outsider’s perspective.

 

He decides his best mate looks very clever, and says:

 

“The Iliad, maybe.”

 

“The Iliad? Isn’t that, like, older than the bible?”

 

“I’m pretty sure, mate.”

 

“Well, what’s your favourite book?”

 

“Rumble Fish,” Sirius replies without a second of pondering.

 

The book, which he read when he was around twelve, holds a sentimental value to him; and has been his favourite book since he read it for the first time. His copy is annotated to the brim, embarrassingly enough.

 

“Okay, alright. I’ll just say my favourite book is that, then.”

 

Sirius nods along, deciding he’ll just help James lie if it turns out Lily has read it and quizzes him on it.

 

“You do that.”

 

“And— her favourite movie? What do you think it is? Like, something a bit more on the thrilling side, or… perhaps Titanic? You can never go wrong with Titanic.”

 

Sirius groans.

 

“Ugh, you and bloody Titanic.”

 

“What is it with you and your hate for Titanic, Sirius?” James replies, scandalised.

 

Sirius is just about to answer when James gasps.

 

“We’re going to be late!” he says, looking at the analogue clock on the wall.

 

Sirius supposes immediately that he’s overreacting, but a quick glance at the time from his part shows him that James is, in fact, not overreacting. They’re about to be late.

 

Sirius and James practically fly down the stairs and out the door, before setting off to run to the restaurant.

 

(Making a bit of time, as always, for snowthrowing, of course.)

They end up making it there five minutes early, to their great surprise; probably in favour of their running. It leaves time for James to force Sirius to fix his hair, again, outside of the restaurant.

 

“Don’t run your hands through it now,” Sirius says sternly.

 

“I’ll try.”

 

Sirius raises his eyebrows at James before they go inside. They scan the room to find the biggest table occupied by no one other than Mary, Marlene, Lily, and Peter.

 

Sirius and James immediately go up to them, not without a panicked look from James which Sirius huffs a laugh at.

 

“Hullo,” Sirius says, nodding.

 

He scans the table again, looking for… well, you can probably guess it, a certain someone.

 

But Remus isn’t there. The revelation makes Sirius frown. He feels a pang of disappointment in his chest. He really wants Peter and James to meet Remus sometime soon.

 

“Uh, Remus isn’t here?”

 

Lily shakes her head.

 

“Nah. He has basketball practice, as always.”

 

Sirius hums in response as he sits down next to Peter, James beside him.

 

Sirius can’t help but smile meanly as he catches Lily doing a double take of James. Maybe he’s not entirely hopeless, after all.

 

Mary seems to have also noticed, looking over at Sirius with raised eyebrows. Sirius gives her a wink back.

 

“Er, are we going to order now or what?” Peter asks suspiciously.

 

Sirius barks a laugh. For all his observance, he can never seem to notice any indications of romantic attraction in any room ever.

 

“Sure, Pete,” Sirius replies.

 

Marlene, having known Peter (and James) longer than all of them, rolls her eyes and gently slaps him on the back of the head, earning an exclaimed what? from Peter.

“James, mate,” Sirius whispers. “you’ve got to talk to her.”

 

They’ve since long eaten their appetisers and main courses, and joked and talked, and James hasn’t said a word to Lily yet. It’s getting a bit pathetic, because soon they’re going to leave and James will have fumbled his shot like a bloody moron.

 

So, Sirius communicated telepathetically with Peter, because when you’ve known someone for as long as he’s known Peter you can just do that, to distract Lily and the girls with talking, and then he slid up to James to tell him as much.

 

James groans.

 

“But she’s just— she’s just so.”

 

“So?”

 

“So amazing! If I thought she was the one before I know it now! She’s witty, and beautiful, and charismatic, and…”

 

“Alright, James, I get the point.”

 

“I really need to talk to her, don’t I?”

 

“Yeah, mate.”

 

James sighs. He tries fixing his permanently crooked glasses.

 

“Okay. On our way back I’ll… walk her home, yeah? You can go to my place and I’ll tell you how it goes.”

 

Sirius smiles. If James is anything, he’s brave. And if he’s two things, he’s brave and bloody stubborn. If he says he’s going to do something he will do it, no matter what.

 

Sirius nods, claps him on the shoulder.

 

“That’s what it’s supposed to sound like.”

When Sirius gets home, he— of course with the permission from James— tells Effie and Monty all about Lily. They smile fondly, as if it’s to be completely expected for James to fall so hard in such a short time.

 

Which, well, it is. James is bursting from the seams with love at all times— something Sirius has always adored.

 

Sirius scrolls on social media as James is away, and then he gets bored of that so he puts away his phone and lays down on James’ bed, putting on his headphones to listen to some music.

 

Which, of course, leaves him thinking. Which leaves a particular thought, always in the back of his mind, to slowly make its way to the front. As it always does, recently, whenever Sirius doesn’t have anything to keep him occupied.

 

Remus.

 

He sighs, rolling over, once again hit with a pang of disappointment at the fact that he didn’t get to see him this day. But, like a light at the end of a tunnel, Sirius remembers that they’re supposed to hang out on Wednesday. Or, Remus is supposed to teach him piano on Wednesday, under the impression that Sirius is a, for a lack of better word, noob. Semantics.

 

Sirius kicks his feet at the thought. Then he immediately stops when he realises that he’s just a little bit too happy about the fact that he’s going to meet the bloke.

 

Now, Sirius Black isn’t stupid, as you know. He knows what that warm feeling in his chest and that smile that threatens to take over his face means, to some extent. 

 

He likes Remus, he accepts this. He thinks he’s a nice and funny person and, yeah, he looks a bit like summer and he always makes Sirius feel like he’s not doing too much or too little, either, but instead making him feel like everything he does is just enough which he doesn’t feel like often.

 

But, if he was to look a little bit deeper, just hold on for a moment and look inside himself, he’d probably see—

 

“Padfoot!” Sirius is broken out of his thoughts by James, who storms into the room with the brightest smile ever on his face.

 

Usually, he’d scold Sirius for laying in his bed with his outside clothes, because he’s that kind of guy, and Sirius would retort back by saying he’s acting like a lass, but this once he doesn’t seem to even be thinking about that.

 

“Over the moon, are we?” Sirius asks with an amused expression.

 

“Oh, Pads,” James smiles dopily, speaking dreamily. “she’s the one. She really is the one.”

 

“Oh, come off it.”

 

“I’m serious!”

 

“Nah, mate, I’m Siri—“

 

James slaps a hand over Sirius smiling mouth before he can finish the joke. Yet, his own grin doesn’t dampen for a second.

 

“So, what happened?” Sirius says, after snickering through pushing James’ hand away. “did you snog her?”

 

“Nah, mate. I have to thread lightly. This is my future wife we’re talking about. If she asks, you’ve gotta tell her I’m a virgin, yeah?” James replies, tone fully serious, making Sirius snort.

 

“Alright, mate.

…what’re you waiting for? Tell me everything!”

 

“Okay,” James begins, pushing up his glasses before clasping his hands. “at first, when we started walking, we didn’t speak.”

 

Sirius immediately raises his eyebrows sceptically. He knows James can be a bit… imaginative, lets say, sometimes. He hopes he doesn’t think walking in silence for half an hour counts as romantic.

 

“I can hear you thinking,” James then butts in, giving Sirius a playful glance. “we didn’t only walk in silence, let me tell you.”

 

“Well, tell me already!”

 

“I’m getting there! Anyway. We were walking, yeah? So, I looked at her and then I realised that we were like, ten minutes away from her house,” oh boy. “so then I sort of panicked. So, I asked what she likes to do in her spare time, yeah?”

 

“Okay,” Sirius says, skeptical.

 

“And she said she likes to read. So you were correct about her being a nerd and all.

And… I was going to say that book you said, but her face mesmerised me so thoroughly that I forgot the name,” that’s possibly the first time Sirius has ever heard James use thoroughly in an informal sentence, or maybe in any sentence at all. “so I just asked if she likes watching movies, too.”

 

Sirius can’t help huffing a laugh.

 

“Alright,” he says, urging James to continue with an equal parts excited and equal parts encouraging look.

 

“And she said yes, and that her favourite movie is Titanic, can you believe it?” James says dreamily. “that’s my favourite movie too. I told her as much. And then we talked about Titanic for twenty minutes outside of her house.”

 

Sirius can’t help a wide smile.

 

He gives James a gentle hit to the shoulder, making him roll over to his side to look at Sirius properly.

 

“I’m real happy for you, you know,” Sirius says in a murmur.

 

James smiles his Potter-grin right back at him, before pulling him into a proper hug.

 

“Thank you, Padfoot.”

 

“Anytime, Prongs.”

 

They don’t let go until quite a bit of time later, yet they don’t get up from the bed. Instead, they leave every and any thoughts about Lily (Remus) behind and start talking about football. And break. And Christmas presents and that mobile game they’re both playing currently, and—

 

Well. Not to get carried away, the few conversations they have that night are unimportant, as most James-Sirius conversations are. The important part is that they speak without getting bored until they fall asleep in their day-clothes.

 

(The important part is that if you were to have come in, that night, you’d have noticed they were breathing exactly in sync.)

Notes:

Sorry for no post in so long!! I gave myself a bit of a break from writing this past week, so probably a bunch of chapters this week :)