Chapter Text
28 August, 1979
Sirius and Remus had been sitting on opposite ends of Sirius’ couch when the prickly silence between them had been broken by an almighty crash of thunder outside. The sky opened up and rain rattled the glass in the windowpanes. They both waited with baited breath, letting it out in relief when lightning flashed outside. They looked at each other, their argument about McGonagall’s letter not forgotten but stowed away for the present moment, and said in unison, “Lily.”
“Lucky her,” Sirius said, stretching his arms over his head, “Only a week! I had to wait two monthsfor a proper electrical storm after my potion was ready, saying that blasted incantation twice a day.”
It had only been a week since the full moon. They and James had spent the night in the Forbidden Forest with Ulva’s pack, enjoying a last moon chasing rabbits before the pack left Hogwarts, while Lily had (no doubt gratefully) taken the mandrake leaf from her mouth at last, stowed it in a phial along with moth chrysalis and some un-trodden dew and left it to bask in the full moon’s rays. Since then Remus assumed she had finished the potion and left it to cure in a dark quiet place, and if she had kept up with her incantations, now that an electrical storm had come, she needed only to say it once more and drink it down and she’d transform.
Remus gazed out the window, at the tree branches whipped by the wind, silhouetted by triumphant flashes of lightning. He’d read up quite a bit on the process of becoming an Animagus, and though some of the finer points of the potion left his head aching, it still fascinated him how it differed from his own monthly transformations. His joints still creaked, a week out from transforming, while Sirius could slip the dog on and off as easily as a set of robes. It was the element of choice that was so elusive and alluring about it all; choice did not factor into his condition and never had.
His eyes strayed from the storm outside to the table below the window. Beside a still-packed box of his books and records that had yet to be sorted away into a more permanent home in Sirius’ flat--their flat, he supposed he should say--the parchment from McGonagall lay, still creased from when he’d crumpled in into a ball upon receipt. Sirius had flattened it out to read it before casting it aside.
Remus realized Sirius was watching him and turned to meet his eyes. He had a look of consideration on his face, as if he were trying to tell whether they were still fighting, whether Remus was still going to be unmoved by his arguments. They had quarreled a lot since Voldemort had fallen. The world was in a frenzy of re-ordering itself, trying to tie up loose ends and establish a new status quo. They’d both been called on to speak in trials against miscellaneous Death Eaters, forced to relive some of the darker parts of the last years. It had been a trying month. Even the good things, like Remus getting back his security deposit for the small dingy flat he’d always hated and Apparating the few armfuls of boxes which accounted for all his worldly possessions into Sirius’ flat-- their flat-- had sparked some bickering. So far, peace time had been equal parts giddiness and anger, and Remus wondered what this normalcy was that everyone had seemed so keen on having back, and if or when it would ever show up.
Sirius clearly wanted to say something. His eyes flicked back to the letter and he opened his mouth. Remus bit his tongue, he really didn’t want to quarrel. Before Sirius could speak, however, the unlit fireplace flared green and they both grabbed for their wands on instinct. Prongs clambered out of the fire, shaking soot from his hair, “C’mon!” he said, urgently, “You’ve gotta come back to ours!”
He’d disappeared back into the green flames before they could ask. Remus’ heart was pounding and he had to tell himself sternly that James hadn’t seemed distressed. Certainly it could be good news, couldn’t it? But Sirius, shoulders set in a fighting stance was already climbing into the fire and spouting the Potters’ address. He followed close behind, hoping against hope for good news, hoping against his better judgment.
***
Sirius leapt from the Potters’ hearth with his wand raised, ready for anything. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find; a Death Eater with a knife to Lily’s throat, an unstoppable wave of Fiendfyre devouring their home, an item containing some forgotten scrap of Voldemort’s soul in need of eradication. Certainly not James settling back into an armchair with an oversized cat in his lap, looking chuffed as hell. He smiled bemusedly at the battle-ready look on Sirius’ face as Remus hurtled out of the fireplace and headfirst into his back, knocking him off-balance.
“Prongs, wh--?” Sirius began, annoyance starting to replace his relief, but Remus cut him off.
“Lily! Blimey, look at you!” he proclaimed, stowing his wand and grinning at the cat in James’ lap. Not a cat, Sirius realized on closer inspection, but a rather astonished-looking fox. And not just any fox, at that. As James’ fingers ran through fiery fur, the black ears cocked forward alertly, and the gaze gave it away. Where most foxes Sirius had ever seen had eyes of brown or gold, the fox that sat primly in Prongs’ lap regarded them with eyes of vivid peridot, brilliant with curiosity and a smug sort of laughter.
“Cheers, Mrs Prongs,” Sirius said, and the fox’s eyes narrowed dangerously at him, but he only grinned back challengingly.
Taking the bait, as was her custom, the green-eyed fox was suddenly replaced by Lily. James let out an ‘ooph’ at the more than doubled weight of his wife and she shot his a warning look before turning back to Sirius, “If you don’t quit calling me that, I’ll have to rename you Mr Moony and henceforth there shall be no Padfoot.”
“We already have a Mr Moony, thank you very much,” Sirius pointed out with a glance at Remus, who was still beaming proudly at Lily, “But point taken, you’ll be needing your own codename now.”
“I’d like to direct everyone’s attention to the fact that I guessed ‘foxy’ back when this whole Animagus business started,” James pointed out, puffing up his chest.
Lily rolled her eyes and Sirius had the sense that James had already made this point several times, “Come off it, Jamie, I warrant a more creative alias than that.”
“Oh, yeah, like ‘Moony’, this lot really strained their poetic capabilities on that one,” Remus said dryly, brushing a bit of ash off his shoulder.
“Well, it’s better than ‘Wolfy’,” Lily said, hopping from James’ lap and stretching her arms in front of her, looking at her spread fingers in consideration. Sirius remembered that feeling, how strange it had been at first, to get used to having two skins entirely of one’s own.
“Fair enough,” Remus said.
“We’ll come up with something better,” James said, standing and kissing the top of Lily’s head. He turned back to Remus and Sirius, “You lot hungry? I was just taking supper out of the oven when the storm started.”
“You were cooking?” Sirius said, “Mimzy and Poppet let you near the oven?”
James shrugged, “I’ve been having trouble sleeping, Poppet’s been teaching me a few things,”
“He’s actually rather good at it,” Lily said, squeezing James’ hand, “C’mon, before it burns and I’m stuck pretending to enjoy it anyway.” She led James into the kitchen by his hand. Sirius looked to Remus. There was an argument waiting to be picked up back at the flat, like a newspaper they hadn’t finished reading, and he could tell from the way Remus chewed his lip that he wasn’t any more eager to get back to it than Sirius was. He shrugged and Sirius nodded and they followed James into the kitchen.
***
“I know I joked about you being ‘foxy’,” James was saying in the kitchen, where, as it turned out, Lily had nothing to fear, as one of the House-Elves had seen fit to take a roast chicken from the oven before it burned, “But I was dead sure you were going to be a doe. I’ve never heard of an Animagus before whose animal form wasn’t the same as their Patronus.”
“Well, judging by the occupants of this room, there are a lot more Animagi than the ones that are registered and talked about in books,” Lily said, handing Remus a stack of plates to set around the table, “But, aside from that, my original Patronus, ya know, when we first learned, was a fox. It only turned into a doe to mirror yours after you tricked me into loving you somehow.”
“Very romantic, Lily,” Remus said, and she favored him with a wink as James sputtered with indignation.
“Wily as a fox, indeed, you dreadful woman,” James said, finding his voice, setting a tureen of gravy on the table beside the peas and roasties, before taking a seat.
“Wily,” Lily repeated, as if weighing it and then pulling a face, “Better than ‘foxy’, mind, but no.”
“Bloody choosy, too,”James said, though he couldn’t seem to keep from smiling as he watched his friends filling their plates. Lily opened her mouth to tease back but James held up a hand, “Instead of remarking on how your choice of husband would imply low standards, why don’t you try the potatoes?”
Lily laughed at that and scooped some potatoes onto her plate with a syrupy, “Why, yes, my darling.”
The food was, as a matter of fact, delicious. So delicious, actually, that Remus had to wonder if Poppet had not intervened when James’ attention was diverted, tweaking the amount of salt and the temperature of the oven. Then again, Remus considered that perhaps-- as James was talking (without realizing it was bragging) about how not one, but two professional Quidditch teams had made contact with him, wondering if now that the war had been won if Hogwarts’ promising young Chaser had interest in getting back on a broom-- perhaps this was just another skill that James just happened to have. He’d always been annoyingly gifted at lessons, rising to any challenge their professors had set to them, why should cooking be beyond him? It didn’t annoy Remus as it had in school, he found. He just smiled proudly, happy to bask in that ineffable Potter glow, as he tucked into another serving of perfectly succulent chicken.
James was prattling on about the Captain of the Appleby Arrows when Sirius interrupted suddenly, “Out with it already!” Instead of bristling at the interjection, James just grinned at Lily, expectantly.
Remus recognized the pride on James’ face as the same sort of pride that he’d been reveling in himself, the pride of achievement by proxy through a loved one, “We’ve already seen Lily transform, Pads,” Remus said, seeing Lily’s cheeks flushing slightly, “Leave her to enjoy her supper.”
“It’s something else,” Sirius said, and his hand tightened around his fork, “Merlin, please tell me you’re not pregnant.”
“I’m not pregnant,” Lily said, with a surprised laugh, “Thank god,” Remus thought he saw something a little like disappointment flicker across James’ features, though it was faster than the blink of an eye, and he wondered if in fact it would be very long before they were toasting to that news, “No, it’s a job opportunity of mine, actually,” she gestured to James with a jerk of her chin, as if getting them back on the topic of his job offers from Quidditch teams, “I’ve had a letter from McGonagall this afternoon. Slughorn is finally retiring and she’s offered me the position of Potions Mistress,” she grinned a bit bashfully, considering the peas balanced on her fork, “I’ve accepted.”
“That’s bloody brilliant!” Sirius boomed, and Remus felt a sting at the way Sirius’ gaze pointedly evaded his direction, “You’ll be twice the teacher that nepotic old coot ever was!”
“He’s right, Lily,” Remus said, “You’ll be brilliant.” He meant it, of course, Lily had always been a natural at potioneering, and he’d never understood any of it as well as he had on the occasions that she’d explained it to him. His heart, however, couldn’t quite decide whether to rise for her or fall for himself, and as a result was doing a sort of confused stutter in his chest. This would, of course, be the perfect time to tell them about the job offer he’d received from McGonagall, if he’d had any intention of accepting. How could he accept, though, when once a month he would pose a very serious threat to everyone at Hogwarts? There had, after all, been another Potions prodigy at Hogwarts with them, who likely would have made a dreadful teacher but ought to have lived long enough to not be hired, and might have done had there been no werewolf at Hogwarts. No, he couldn’t risk it.
“...in Hogsmeade will be great,” James was saying, as Remus forced his thoughts back to the present, back to his happiness for Lily, “Always fancied the thought of living somewhere with other wizarding folk, you know,” a sort of hopeful glimmer shone in his hazel eyes as he added, trying to sound casual, “And when we’ve got sprogs of our own, we’ll be close by when they start at Hogwarts! Well, Lils will teach them, of course, but we’ll be able to come to Quidditch matches and take their mates for butterbeers and--”
“Slow down, there, dad,” Lily said, though her smile was affectionate, “I may have misheard but I’m pretty sure I’ve just told Padfoot we weren’t pregnant.”
James’ ears turned rather pink and he ate a rather large chunk of potato in one bite, changing tack and saying with a broad leer, “Never thought I’d pull a professor, though, eh?” He grunted, almost choking on all that potato when Lily elbowed him hard in the ribs.
“Actually,” Sirius said, and Remus’ heart lurched. He shook his head urgently at Sirius, but Sirius ignored him, twirling his fork idly in a pool of gravy on his plate, “I might pull a Hogwarts professor, too,” Lily cocked her head in confusion and Sirius shot a look at Remus, keeping his voice infuriatingly light as he added, “If he wouldn’t be such a defeatist, self-loathing bore and just get over himself.”
Oh, so he wants to do this now, like this? “I’m just being realistic,” Remus countered, throwing up his hands so his fork fell to his plate with a clatter, “A dark creature teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, I mean, honestly, who ever heard anything so ludicrous,” he added bitterly.
“What’s so ludicrous about it?” Sirius argued, “You’re uniquely qualified, actually! Not to mention the small matter of you being instrumental in defeating the biggest, baddest Dark Wizard the world has ever seen! Seems to me you’d have a lesson plan or five right there!” he crossed his arms and added bluntly, “And you’re not a creature, you’re a human.”
Remus opened his mouth to disagree but James interrupted, “Wait, Moony, am I hearing wrong or have you been offered a job at Hogwarts too?”
Reluctantly, Remus nodded, watching in dread as the grin on James’ face bloomed again, wider than before, no doubt already picturing them moving into the cottage next door in Hogsmeade, “But Prongs, listen, I can’t--”
“Like hell you can’t!” James said, mirroring Sirius’ determination, “You were always aces at Defense in school! And didn’t McGonagall tell you you ought to think about teaching when we had to meet with her for career advice in fifth year?”
“Yes,” Remus said, sounding tired even to his own ears. Why couldn’t they understand this?, “And I had the same reason for ruling it out back then that I have now. I can’t put all those kids in danger,” his eyes flicked to Lily for a second, hoping he wouldn’t be forced to bring up Severus as proof of what a liability he was, “Not again.”
James set his jaw, just as Sirius did when he was angry, but it was Lily who spoke, “What if you had access to that new potion?”
Three pairs of eyes blinked at her, uncomprehending, “What potion?” Remus finally asked.
“The new potion for lycanthropy,” Lily said, looking a little impatient, “It’s been all over Double Double and Potion Perennial for months while they’ve been doing trials!”
“No offense, love,” James said carefully, “But you’re the only one that reads those swotty rags,” Lily almost-glowered and James added hastily, “But that’s why you’ll make such a smashing Potions Mistress, so conscientious about advancements in potion-making, you are!”
Remus ignored them, his heart leaping hopefully, lodging itself in his throat, “It’s not… Lily, a cure?”
Lily frowned apologetically and shook her head, “No, Remus, I’m sorry, not a cure,” he’d known, of course, it couldn’t be, but it was a disappointment all the same, “But a treatment, a huge advancement, I can’t believe you haven’t heard, actually.”
“What does it do?” Sirius asked, and Remus spared a glance at him, relieved to see that he looked curious, hopeful, but not angry. Finally there was no war, no feud, and he’d rather like to have a break from fighting with Sirius before he was an old man.
“Well, as I understand it, it allows the werewolf to keep his consciousness on the night of the full moon,” Lily explained, “The body still transforms, of course, and I,” she swallowed, ruefully, “I’d imagine that’s still quite painful. But the werewolf keeps their mind and remains in control, so they don’t risk hurting anyone. As I understand it, they can just wait out morning in the body of the wolf.”
Remus tried to imagine it, having some of that control surrounding his transformation that he’d never had. Knowing, as his friends knew, what it was like to be yourself inside the skin of another animal. But he was dreadful at potions, he reminded himself, and no doubt a potion like that called for ingredients outside his meager budget, “Lily, I’d love to try something like that, but--”
“I have it on good authority that the Potions Mistress would be thrilled to make it for you monthly,” Lily said, her voice simultaneously unyielding and kind.
He felt tears sting his eyes but blinked them away. Could that be the answer? He tried to imagine it, teaching in the Defense classroom where professors of wildly varying ability had instructed them each year, living in the village with Sirius, once a month spending the night inside the wolf’s fur without relinquishing his sanity, “I…” he could feel his resolve crumbling, in truth it all sounded much too good to be true. Still clinging to reasons to refuse, he asked, a bit feebly, “Do you know how to make it?”
“Oh, honestly,” Lily made a dismissive gesture with her hand, “When have I ever met a potion I couldn’t make?”
“Now’s no time to start doubting Lily’s abilities,” James chided, though Remus could tell from his tone that he wasn’t offended.
Under the table, Sirius took his hand, “We’ll all have your back, Moony,” he said, gently, “You can still leave Hogwarts to transform if it’ll make you feel better, until you trust Lily’s potion.”
Remus searched Sirius’ eyes, finding he desperately, terribly wanted to believe in all of this working out, “I-I’ll think about it,” Remus said at last, adding in a weak attempt at a joke, “Worst case, I wouldn’t be the first Defense teacher to leave after only a year.”
“Professor Slinkhard didn’t even last a year, remember?” James said, and Remus could have kissed him, so relieved was he for the change of subject.
“Stinking coward,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes, “He’d have had us sit Voldemort down for a stern talking to instead of fight the bastard.” Just like that, the conversation shifted almost effortlessly off of Remus and onto the various failings of the numerous witches and wizards that had held the position during their time at school. They talked of many other things; how Dorcas was being uncharacteristically patient with Regulus as he learned to wield his wand in his left hand, codenames for Lily now that she’d joined the ranks of unregistered Animagi (she liked ‘vixen’, but James and Sirius refused, though Remus suspected it was because they didn’t like the thought of her name being cooler than their own), they made suggestions of what Prongs ought to cook the next time they were over and Sirius threatened to move in for the sake of his cooking. Although Remus had relaxed considerably once he’d ceased to be the focus of discussion, Sirius did not let go of his hand until it was time to go home.
***
Sirius took a long time brushing his teeth, staring at his reflection and thinking. He didn’t want to fight with Remus, and he hoped that maybe if he put off climbing into bed, Remus would already have fallen asleep. In that case, he could just wrap his arms around him and go to sleep, and leave any arguing for the following day. To him, the revelation of Lily’s that there was a potion that would make Remus no more dangerous on the night of the full moon than he was every other night of the month, was the last obstacle cleared away. Why not do it if he could be sure that he would not be endangering his students? It seemed simple, but he knew it was ultimately Remus’ decision and maybe that meant he ought to hear Remus out.
He spat in the sink and rinsed his mouth, tied back his hair and walked into the bedroom. Remus wasn’t asleep. In fact, he was still fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed wearing his right shoe. He held the other in his hands, but he wasn’t looking at it, his eyes were far away. So much for just crawling wordlessly into bed. Remus looked up when Sirius entered the bedroom, the glazed looked clearing from his eyes. He smiled weakly, “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Sirius echoed. He walked over to him and dropped onto his knees, taking Remus’ left shoe from his lax grip, before moving on to undoing the laces on his right.
“You don’t have to--” Remus began, self-consciously, but Sirius was already pulling the shoe off and tossing it aside, by its twin, “Um, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sirius said, looking down at Remus’ narrow foot in its black-turned-grey sock, and gave it a squeeze, surprising himself when he discovered that he meant the words as he said, “Listen, Moony, I’m sorry. If you’re not comfortable taking the job, I get that, I just--”
“I’m going to accept.”
“I understand, I--” Remus’ words caught up with him and he looked up at his face, eyes wide but brow furrowed, “Wait, what?”
“I’m going to accept the job,” Remus repeated, a bashful smile threatening one corner of his mouth and Sirius suspected he was trying not to laugh at his expression, “I’ll try this potion of Lily’s and even if it doesn’t work, I’ll have you lot, and maybe I can arrange to leave the castle for the moon and--”
Sirius’ lips meeting his cut him off, as Sirius scrambled to straddle his lap. Remus took a startled second to start kissing back, but his arms looped tight around Sirius without any hesitation, “I forgive you,” he mumbled against Sirius’ lips, and even though they’d said it a hundred times in the last month, it still felt every time like a sacred balm, baptismal, soothing the betrayals and slights and doubts of the past, “And I’m sorry too.”
Sirius broke the kiss as he pushed Remus back on the bed, perched over him, “Why are you sorry?” he asked, “This all’s your decision, not mine. You had every right.”
“It is my decision,” Remus conceded, leaning up to kiss the corner of Sirius’ lips, “But I maybe need to start at least attempting to believe you when you try to tell me I’m not a monster.”
“You’re not a monster,” Sirius repeated, confidently, more sure of this than he was of anything in the world. That was one thing that had never wavered, not once since learning Remus’ secret at twelve. He needed only to look into Remus’ eyes--be they brown or gold depending on the lunar cycle--to know that he was every fiber of him human. Those same eyes flickered back and forth between Sirius’ and he could feel Remus trying with all his might to find some of that conviction within himself. Sirius leaned down to kiss his forehead, “I’ll keep saying it till you believe it.”
“It might take a long time,” Remus said, a little leadingly, his lips twitching as he tried not to smirk. He kissed Sirius again, catching his lower lip and sucking it into his mouth, his teeth dragging along it like a muggle match against matchbox, igniting Sirius much the same way.
“I think I can live with that, Professor,” Sirius said, a little breathlessly, when Remus pulled back. Something dark flashed in Remus’ eyes and a second later, Sirius found himself pinned on his back, Remus grinning down at him crookedly. Sirius laughed, cocking one eyebrow, “Ooh, you like me calling you ‘professor’, do you?”
Remus shrugged, “It’s better than ‘sir’, at any rate,” he said, though Sirius couldn’t have mistaken the arousal dancing in the back of Remus’ voice for anything else.
“Yes, Professor,” Sirius said, mischievously, and though Remus rolled his eyes Sirius felt a surge of satisfaction at the flush the comment had brought to Remus’ cheeks.
“Last I checked,” Remus said, twirling a lock of Sirius’ hair between his fingers and trying to regain control, trying to sound stern and failing, “Dogs were not among the approved pets for Hogwarts students and staff. Has it occurred to you that I might not take you with me?”
Sirius shook his head with a bark-like laugh that came out a little hoarse with desire, “You’re bluffing,” he said and leaned up to kiss Remus soundly on the lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Never,” Remus admitted, voice achingly sincere, his grin as wide and fond as Sirius had ever seen it. In fact, it was rather an impressive feat to kiss him so thoroughly--so heart-poundingly, so toe-curlingly--while grinning so broadly. It was so impressive, in fact, that Sirius decided to stop interrupting him with banter and let him get on with it. Remus growled appreciatively at the way Sirius melted against him and Sirius thought he’d like to listen to that sound echo off his tongue until he was old and grey. The years stretched in front of them with all the fresh-minted promise of summer hols, or perhaps more accurately, a new term. It would be more than enough time to make up for a couple of years of sorrow and absence. Remus’ hands were on his skin and Sirius kissed love into the pink heat of his mouth, eager to make up for lost time and to manage some of the mischief they had missed.
The End
Now I greet you from the other side
of sorrow and despair, with a love so vast
And shattered,
it will reach you everywhere.
'Heart With No Companion', Leonard Cohen