Dumbledore knew. Dumbledore knew everything, even this, and yet he had broken the news to Remus at the same time as James and Peter as if what he had with Sirius was equal to what they had. But it wasn't. Sure, James might have been a brother to Sirius and Remus wouldn't dare compete with that, but Sirius had never cared enough about Peter for them to be considered close. Sirius accepted Peter's existence in the group, but he didn't seek out his company, not ever. He didn't have to because he always had Remus and Remus always provided ample company for him.
Maybe Dumbledore thought it would be easier that way. Maybe he thought it'd lessen the blow if James and Peter were there too, or believed that they could deal with it more easily together. Or maybe he merely assumed James and Peter were in on the secret too. Maybe he overestimated him and Sirius, assuming they would let their friends in on this even though it meant potentially losing that which they had become so painfully attached to.
And they would have had they been given the chance, only it'd been stolen from them just as life had been stolen from Sirius. A quick incantation, a flash of green light, and a dull thud as his body hit the ground. That was all it had taken to snuff Sirius from Remus' life, all it had taken to send his already fragile existence spiralling into deeper, darker levels of bitter self-loathing.
They all knew about the war, but none of them truly believed it would touch their lives so intimately as this. At Hogwarts, it was easy to feel a false sense of security, especially when you were one of four Marauders who devoted your life to pranks, secret maps and drinking games after hours. But it stood to reason that Sirius would be the first to go. He'd already disappointed so many individuals, each connected to Voldemort in one way or another. And his temper; Merlin, did his temper have a habit of landing him in trouble.
Dumbledore explained everything and so long as Remus looked upon the situation objectively it made sense. He explained how Bellatrix Lestrange had taken it upon herself to deal her blood-traitor cousin a fate she saw as just. Sirius had mentioned the wrath of his cousins but none of them, not even Sirius himself, had thought for a second that something like this might actually happen. They may be of age but they were still in their seventh year at Hogwarts. Their involvement in the war hadn't even begun. They were supposed to leave Hogwarts together, fight Voldemort together, only to win this war together.
They were supposed to do alot of things together, none of which had been divulged to James or Peter. Find a flat; that was on the top of their list. Vacation in Paris, seeing as Sirius knew a fair bit of French and was anxious to put it to some use. That is, if Remus could get permission from the Werewolf Registry. Dumbledore was still relaying to them what had happened. James was still sitting between Remus and Peter with his mouth agape and a hand placed over it in a display of raw shock and inability to comprehend that this was real. Peter was fidgeting wildly with the clasp of his robe but he never once looked away from Dumbledore. Fear lined his face, his eyes wide with it, drinking in Dumbledore's every word as if they held the key to preventing the same thing happening to him.
Dumbledore's sympathetic voice had not ceased, but Remus didn't hear a single word of what he was saying. His heart was pounding, hammering at his ribcage in violent protest. Remus was surprised it continued to beat at all considering it had been beating for Sirius for all of seven months now. It assaulted his senses, the scene before him growing imprecise as he felt the sting of tears in his eyes whilst his ears were filled with nothing but that furious beat that reminded him how utterly alive he was and how utterly alive Sirius wasn't.
Remus wanted to claw it from his chest. Even better, he wanted the wolf to claw it from his chest because at least the wolf could relieve himself of the anger and the hurt and the fucking unfairness of it all. The wolf grew angry whilst Remus had never had that right. If he was ever pissed off, he swallowed his pride and pushed whatever was to blame to the back of his mind. Remus had always endeavoured to be the exact opposite of the wolf, only now he wanted nothing more than for the moon's beams of light to strike him, to feel every bone in his body snap and contort into their ulterior form because that was nothing, absolutely nothing, in comparison to the pain that pierced him at Dumbledore's words.
Sirius is dead.
And then everyone was looking at him, Dumbledore, James and Peter, all of them. Remus realised only then just what he must look like, a mix of utter horror and determined denial battling for rights over his features. Then his stomach lurched and twisted and he was almost certain he was going to be sick. No one spoke as he rose to his feet and charged from Dumbledore's Office altogether. Remus was glad of it. If they'd so much as hinted at following him he would have had to put up a Shield Charm as a warning. Remus' mind was reeling, images of living life without Sirius interspersed with images of Sirius lying dead in some cold back alley in Hogsmeade until someone eventually found him, then the ever more painful images of Sirius alive. His Sirius. Whole, unscathed, obnoxious as ever but completely his and his alone.
Remus made it to the first floor bathroom just in time, collapsing in a heap with his head over the toilet bowl before finally surrendering to the heaves that had accompanied him down the entire length of the corridor.
"James and Peter are going to wonder where we are" Remus reminded him, attempting to temper the smile that crept across his lips ever more with each kiss Sirius pressed to his neck. Needless to say, he was met with little success.
"Moony, I don't care," Sirius said between kisses. "How often do I actually get you to myself anyway?"
The question struck Remus as ridiculous, and yet it was now impossible to hold back the utterly contented grin that was carelessly splayed across his lips. "You're kidding, aren't you?" Remus instinctively moved his head to one side to allow Sirius passage, letting his eyes flutter shut and taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself against the merciless force of Sirius Black. "Only every night, as you well know seeing as you creep into my bed just when I'm about to fall asleep."
"But that's different." Sirius surfaced from Remus' neck so as to meet the amber gaze that never failed to send warmth coursing through him. "It's not as if I get you to myself, is it."
Sirius had Remus pinned against the wall of one of their favourite deserted classrooms. It was on the sixth floor of the North Tower, one of the few parts of the castle which saw little traffic from either the students, the professors, Filch, Mrs Norris, or Peeves. As soon as Remus had closed the door behind them, Sirius had assailed him with keen lips and whispered affection. Remus didn't stand a chance against him.
"And every now and then my boyfriend gives this little groan, lustful and frankly quite adorable." Sirius pressed his whole self closer to Remus, touching their foreheads in pursuit of closeness that was nigh on impossible without simply stripping him there and then.
Remus' gaze lingered on Sirius' lips, anywhere but on the eyes which held every answer to every mystery. So much as a single glance at those silver orbs was enough to confirm that, yes, Remus knew what he was talking about, but it wasn't something he was proud of. As Remus had already established, he really didn't stand a chance against Sirius.
"Sometimes I want to hear that," Sirius continued, his voice gently laced with longing. Not the kind of longing that was cured with a stolen snog between classes, or a shag in the Room of Requirement after hours, but the kind that was verging on the forlorn.
"It doesn't have to be a secret forever," Remus suggested carefully, aligning his nose with Sirius' before planting a light kiss upon his lips. Yet it was no solution. They both knew they wouldn't do it, that they wouldn't tell the others. Not yet at least. It wasn't that they didn't trust James or Peter; it was merely that it made everything they were doing so very official. It took from them something that was theirs alone and offered it to the public for speculation.
Sirius seemed to come to the same conclusion as Remus, for he pulled back ever so slightly, uncertainty etched upon his brow. He shook his head, and Remus momentarily prepared himself for a battle. Thus Sirius' words came as a surprise.
"Move in with me, Moony. When we leave Hogwarts." Sirius met Remus' gaze, those stormy orbs betraying the sheer desperation with which he made the offer. When Remus hesitated to answer, Sirius ploughed on. "I'm gonna have to find a flat of my own anyway. It makes sense."
Remus had to give him that. It made sense. As friends. As significantly more than friends, it was mad.
"You'll get sick of me," Remus warned him, but Sirius merely scoffed.
"Don't be a berk, Moony. You might have noticed, but I'm kind of crazy about you."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. I mean.. fucking in-love crazy."
Worrying at his bottom lip, Remus contemplated his options. Move in with Sirius, his boyfriend, the man who was fucking in-love crazy about him, or come to terms with living with his parents. Remus couldn't deny that spending all that time with Sirius and only Sirius in the comfort of a place they both called home, their home to be precise, was a temptation he could not resist.
"Fuck. Yes. But.." Remus ran trembling fingers through his hair; the adrenalin of throwing caution to the wind and trusting Sirius with the key to his happiness was setting in fast. "We're going to have to tell them about this, and soon. Otherwise we're in for a right hexing. Nothing we don't already deserve, mind you."
"We will," Sirius said before gracing Remus with that obnoxious grin that sent his heart soaring. "But not yet." Ensnaring Remus' lips with his own, Sirius sought another taste of that which had just left him feeling more elated than Sirius could ever remember feeling in the past. Remus unconsciously moaned into the kiss, a beautiful noise which only elicited more yearning in Sirius.
Remus felt hollow.
Sirius often claimed that he was cold and destructive, remnants of what his parents had drilled into him over the years, but the only memory that remained to Remus was the sense of being filled. With Sirius, Remus was a rich man; he didn't lack purpose and meaning and he didn't feel like a creature undeserving of love or affection but a werewolf in possession of the same right to existence as any wizard.
He didn't know how long he'd been sat there but droplets of sweat had formed on his brow and his hair was damp, smoothed back somewhere in the act of being physically sick. Had Sirius been there, he'd most likely be laughing in spite of his obvious concern, massaging the space of back between Remus' shoulder blades in an attempt to ease the process. But he wasn't. This was only the first of many things Remus would have to do alone from now on.
Remus wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He hadn't noticed the stream of tears that had escaped him, too numb to something as petty as that in light of what he'd really lost that day. He considered scrambling to his feet, but doubted he'd have the strength to stand even if he wanted to. But it didn't matter either way. Some time passed, and then a knock came from the other side of the cubicle. Remus didn't answer, merely hugging his knees to his chest and feeling beyond miserable as a soft Alohomora split the silence and James gently pushed the door open.
Remus was grateful that he didn't attempt conversation. Instead, he merely sat opposite Remus on the dirty bathroom floor, and Remus couldn't help but notice that his glasses were slightly fogged from his own display of emotion.