Duplicity. By dinoesque.

Summary: It started as an act to make James Potter jealous, until it escalated out of control. But as their plans and lives begin to unravel, Remus and Sirius are forced to grow up and realize that in both love and war, nothing and no one is what it seems.

A/N: RLSB. Eventual slash. Rated M for sex and language, although the first few chapters will be pretty tame, in more ways than one. No sex, no major angst.

(Yet.)

"In life, there are no perfect affections." -James Merrill

- -

Chapter One.

I have to start somewhere, Remus decided.

He dipped his quill into the pot of ink pinched precariously between a tree root and his leg. There were small black smudges on his knee of his trousers. Leaning forward from the large oak, he began to write. An essay on the Troll Wars was due the following Friday; three roles of parchment, and it was hinted that there would be a pop quiz, too. Scratching his neck, Remus scribbled a minuscule heading and a few looped words, before stopping to think, wand tapping against the ground absentmindedly. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he erased the ink clean from the page. Halfheartedly, he started again, this time getting nearly half of a sentence down onto parchment before making the words vanish.

Pursing his lips, he frowned downwards. This wasn't like him at all. However ambitious and grueling a particular assignment might be (not to mention the frustrations of this particular one, given so achingly close to the end of the year), Remus knew for a fact that his knowledge of the Troll Wars was not at all lacking. He shouldn't, he told himself, have the slightest of problems with hashing out the essay in a few afternoons, if he set his mind to it. But the thing was, it seemed, that his mind was curiously elsewhere.

James Potter.

Remus tilted his head back against the bark, with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt the same twinge of embarrassment that he always felt when the subject arose, even- and especially- within the confines of his own mind.

He had known James for years and years, since their very first day of Hogwarts when he and Sirius asked- or rather, demanded- that Remus stand lookout while they planted a stink bomb in a compartment of the Hogwarts express heavily populated by Slytherines. Flustered, Remus had obliged, but his efforts as watchman were futile when a stray teacher came wandering by, figured out what was going on immediately, either from the putrid smell that now clung to James and Sirius, too; or from Remus' dreadful attempt at disassociation. They were all given detentions before they had even arrived at school, and an quite unconcerned [and even almost proud] Sirius had remarked that it was the beginning of a great friendship, and Remus promptly wondered if he was going to be ill.

But it had become, of course, just what Sirius had thought. And Remus did not run into any more problems, other than the occasional detention, until the beginning of fifth year, when they arrived back from summer vacation, and suddenly James was walking around the dormitory quite shirtless. Remus wondered if this was a new development, or something that had always happened before. And if it were new why it was happening now, at this very moment, when Remus was finding it quite difficult to keep his eyes off of James' toned chest. And if it were old, Remus wondered just why he hadn't noticed it before, and furthermore, why he was thinking so much about it now.

Remus found himself falling helplessly downhill from there, but if he ever showed any outward signs of his feelings, James did not seem to notice, and continued to treat Remus like a brother. Remus, in return, was friendly, but couldn't help feeling somewhat estranged, as if he could not fully experience James as a friend anymore. As if having romantic feelings suddenly appear out of nowhere meant that the non-romantic things had to change, too, which should have made perfect sense, but always ended up jumbled and ruined whenever Remus tried to sort it out, which was not often, for the headache it all gave him.

To say that Remus had a crush on him sounded immature and fleeting. To say that Remus was in love with him sounded maudlin and melodramatic. As a compromise, Remus decided it was best to not say anything about his affections at all. After all, there wasn't anyone he could potentially discuss them with. Sirius would laugh, obviously, and promptly tell James. Peter would turn red and remark that Remus was confused; that his feeling towards James were only that of admiration. James, too (God forbid he find out) would find a logical explanation; perhaps Remus was feeling sentimental because they would be leaving Hogwarts in less than a month. But Remus knew that he could apply none of these excuses to the electric shock that seemed to go through his very core, without fail, every time he saw James and Lily kissing and touching each other. The closest possibility was the anxiety over leaving school, but even that was a stretch.

Although none of them had discussed it, the final date of their schooling seemed to loom in the distance tauntingly, and Remus was filled with equal parts excitement and trepidation. While he had made some tentative, but disappointing plans for his departure, it felt sometimes as though graduations was really something happening to someone else. One day, he would wake up with the sun streaming in through the curtains and Sirius throwing a pillow at his face, and it would be the beginning of term once more, with no end visible in the distance.

Neither James nor Sirius was yet assured in what they would be doing beyond Hogwarts, nor were either particularly concerned with finding an answer anytime soon. The last time he, Remus, had brought it up, Sirius had shrugged and said something about traveling through Europe on his motorbike, and James had said something about accompanying him. And someone had made some crass joke and laughed, while Remus rolled his eyes and changed his subject, a misplaced jealousy burning in the pit of his stomach.

Not for a second did Remus honestly think that there could be anything remotely sexual or, worse, romantic between James and Sirius, not any more than Remus entertained the possibility of a relationship between himself and James. The prospect of either pairing was laughable. James had made it more than clear that his love was for Lily, whom he had been dating for nearly eight months now, and with considerable over-enthusiasm.

But there were times when Remus felt as though there was a secret between James and Sirius which he was not invited in on. A joke, or a look, or a slight touch between them which Remus would, of course, never know the meaning of. It did not make him angry- it made him feel more defeated than anything else- but just one time, Remus wished he could be in on the secret, whatever the secret was. Or if there was a secret at all.

Forcibly turning his attention back to his essay, Remus took a deep breath and began to write.

The Troll Wars took place from the year 1842 until 1862, when a treaty was proposed by James

"Joseph. Joseph Finewart. Not James." Remus corrected his mistake aloud.

Joseph Finewart, a young troll hailing from Evanshire.

Remus shook his head. Evanshire? As in- That wasn't right. He'd have to look it up later.

His ideas were once thought to be overzealous, dangerously experimental, and queer

"Argh-" Remus swore quietly under his breath and wiped the parchment clean once more with a flick of his wand. He blinked at the clean sheet in frustration for several moments before slamming the quill down with a groan. He pinched between his eyes, muttering something about trolls and headaches. A laugh, close by, and not unkind, fell on his ears. He looked up.

"Talking to yourself, Moony? A sure sign of insanity." Sirius was saying, trying helplessly to make his face look somber, despite the large grin plastered across it. He was advancing through the grass towards Remus, who glanced once more down at the empty page to make sure, again, that it was, in fact, empty. Sirius slouched down beside Remus, shielding his eyes from the noonday sun, and shifting to the roots beneath him. "A sure sign. That, and- ouch- doing the same thing over and over again but- ow- expecting a different result. But you're not there yet, clearly, so we don't have to- ow. To worry." He shot a sideways glance at Remus. "How do you tolerate it out here for bloody hours at a time? I've got wood up my arse already- and not the good kind, mind you- and one of those- whatsit, stinger things tried to attack my nose on my way here. It was just a five minute walk. But highly dangerous, you know. Or. Maybe you don't, as I see there are no red welts on your large and conspicuous nose."

"One, that was an awful pun about the wood-"

"Thank you. I can always count on you to find my humor vile."

"Two, the 'stinging whatsit' was probably just a bumblebee-"

"It had the eyes of a killer, Moons, you have to have been there to see it-"

"Three, there are no red welts on my nose, which, I might add, is not as enormous as you so often choose to articulate."

"Alas, but it is. If only you could see what I do."

"I'm rather glad I don't. Nor are there any welts on your nose, either."

"And thank god for that. I suspect the creature became so enamored with my beauty that it couldn't stand to ruin-"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Four. Nature is relaxing, Sirius."

"Only when it's less than three thousand degrees outside and the air is clear of monsters." Sirius leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms behind his head. "Although I do suppose it's nice to get away from things."

"You mean people who invade the privacy and space of others?"

"Mmm. That too." He smirked, closing his eyes as he continued to speak. "Have you gotten any work done on that Troll Wars essay?"

"Erm- yes. One roll of parchment down," Remus lied, tucking his unused materials into his bookbag.

Sirius pulled a face. "Typical. I haven't done a thing; the Troll Wars are terribly boring. Too many angry beasts wielding clubs. I was actually thinking about it the other day. Not because I was going to write it or anything, but sometimes these awful things just plague my mind. You know. And anyway, I remembered that we had to write an essay on it back in fourth year, yeah? But most of it I just copied from you. The night before. While you were sleeping, of course. You had absolutely no idea."

Remus took this information in for a moment, then shook his head. "No, if I remember correctly, at four in the morning you prodded me in the eye with your wand, asking if I knew what the topic was. I told you my essay was on top of my History of Magic textbook, and that you were free to ransack it, so long as you didn't make the plagiarism obvious. And then I rolled over and went back to sleep."

"A slightly different take of events, but they have the same basic meaning." Sirius waved his hand through the air, and Remus did not know if he was dismissing any further details or swatting away bugs. "Anyway. I was wondering if I could do something similar with this one, eh? Two rolls of parchment. Ha!" He snorted. "Trolls, my arse. Whole lot of good they're going to do in the real world. What a joke."

"It is-" Remus agreed, scratching his nose, which, really, he worried, could not possibly be as obnoxious as Sirius so often playfully eluded to, "-quite tedious."

"See? Even you think so, of all people. You, who can find fascination in the horrible muggle craft with all the numbers-"

"Math?"

Sirius shuddered. "That one. If someone who likes math can be bored with the Troll Wars, then they must be highly fucking boring." Eyes still closed, he paused and swiftly ran a hand through his hair, which flounced dramatically and fell back into place in a rather graceful way. Remus surveyed this with dislike, before attempting (and failing) a similar trick with his own hair.

"Normally," Sirius continued with a yawn, "I'd, you know, ask James to write half, and I'll write half, and together we'd make some sort of convoluted but undoubtedly brilliant essay, which, even I have to admit, is better than copying the whole thing from you and getting a wrist cramp."

"I admire that you're more concerned with wrist cramps than cheating."

"You flatter me. But it looks like it'll have to be wrist cramps this time, after all. Prongs is all sorts of ooey and distracted these days. I guess that's what happens when you get engaged."

Remus was about to reply with a dry comment about the abysmal state of James' focus on schoolwork even when not in head over heels in love, but stopped short, the color draining from his face. After a full minute of silence, during which time Sirius continued to swipe blindly at invisible bugs in the air, Remus let out a slightly hoarse noise that was quite unlike himself.

"Engaged? Did you say engaged?"

Sirius opened his eyes in surprise at Remus' surprise and twisted sideways to look at him. "Yes. James and Lily are engaged."

Remus felt himself turn pink.

Sirius frowned. "He told this morning, and you were there. He said he's been engaged to her for weeks now, and just hasn't said anything. Poor bloke was sweating bullets. Of course, I would be, too, if I had just sworn my life away to the likes of Evans." He stared at Remus, who was suddenly finding it quite difficult to breathe. "Are you all right? You look a bit funny. I don't know why you're acting so shocked, you were there, too, and-" Sirius stopped and looked to the side for a moment, mulling over something. He looked back. "Oh. I suppose you weren't there. Now that I think of it, you weren't there at all. It was just the two of us, Prongs and I. And James said to not tell anyone about it, including you and Pete. Hmm." he considered this for a moment, then muttered, "Shit."

"No! No, it's okay, I won't tell him I know. I'll- I'll act surprised and everything."

"To be honest with you, he's been acting so strangely that I don't think he'd know the difference between surprised and not surprised."

"Oh."

"Pre-wedding jitters, I suppose."

"Oh, God."

"What?"

"Wedding jitters. Wedding. He. James. Is going to be married."

"Yeah, I know." Hearing the defeat in Sirius' tone, Remus up looked up at him, who was suddenly looking a bit more ragged, a bit more nervous than he had just a few moments ago. "Terrible, isn't it? I should've talked him out of it, but I don't think I could have. He's really, really set on this. On her."

"Wow."

"It's crazy. I don't know what he sees in Evans."

They sat in silence for a minute, then Remus shrugged and said, "I suppose she's pretty."

"And- womanly."

"Yes. Or something. And she's got that, ah. I don't know what the right word is. Attitude, maybe?"

Sirius nodded glumly. "Yeah, she's got attitude, too." He wrinkled his nose. "Merlin, if James wanted pretty and attitude, he could have dated me."

Remus bit past the sudden tightness in his throat. "I think even you would agree that you fall short in the womanly department, Padfoot."

"Bollocks." Sirius picked up a stone from the ground and hurled it into the distance as hard as he could. "I could be as absolutely fucking womanly as he wanted me to be."

Remus frowned more deeply, not knowing how to respond. He knew that Sirius' joking was- well, only that. Jokes. Joking jokes. But there's some truth in every joke, a voice in the back of his head nagged, and instead of following this potentially catastrophic train of thought, Remus cleared his throat rather loudly, delivering a pronounced, "Uhm." Sirius ignored this.

"I mean. He doesn't have to be so happy about this whole thing," Sirius grumbled, ruffling his hair again in a manner not unlike what Remus had seen in muggle movies from the 1940s. "Not that I don't want him to be happy," he added quickly, shooting a furtive glance at Remus that was meant to be reassuring but seemed more manic than anything else. "I mean. I'm happy for him. Really. I'm happy, he's happy. You're happy. She's happy. We're all incredibly fucking happy."

"I see that," Remus noted with more sarcasm than he had intended. "It's exactly why you're-"

Sirius punched him in the arm that was less brotherly and more shut the hell up, will you? and Remus rubbed annoyedly at the spot, knowing that it would leave a bruise.

"Come on, Remus. Don't play the stupid condescension card. You're not any more old or mature or wise than the rest of us. Well. Okay. Maybe you are. Doesn't mean you have to be all. Snobby and such about it." He crossed his arms glumly, brow furrowed.

"Sirius. You know I'm only joking."

With a great deal of effort, Sirius sighed and tilted his head to one side. Remus noticed for the first time that his eyes were red around the edges. "I know, I know. And you know I'm only incredibly fucking stressed about this wedding, even though it's only been on for, what? Less than a day."

"You're not the only one," Remus muttered to himself without thinking.

"God, you're right," said Sirius, missing the point completely. "Prongs must be mad with stress."

"Erm. Yes. Prongs. Uh- Sirius. Why are your eyes all - ?" Crap. In an attempt to change the subject, Remus has sputtered out the one question he had been trying to avoid. "I mean you're not that upset- You haven't been- Crying, or- ?"

"Oh my God no." Sirius sat up very straight, looking scandalized. "Nicked some rum from Filch's office to calm my nerves. He should really get rid of these things sooner, heh. Muggle alcohol is so much better than anything magical, it's really astonishing." he saw the look on Remus' face and shrugged. "You know what I always say. If it's before noon, it doesn't count."

"Now that you mention it, I smell it on you. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I've gotten used it. The scent. How terrible. Als, your timing may have been a bit off. It's already two in the afternoon."

"What?" He started. "Shit. I didn't realize. I'm going to have to get going in a little while. To get ready." Here he paused for dramatic effect.

"Get ready for what?"

Sirius grinned, almost wickedly, and nudged Remus in the ribs. "Padfoot's got a date. Not that that should surprise you. I'm going into Hogsmeade with Paul Slinch. You know him. Sixth year Hufflepuff. Blonde hair. Rather tall bloke, a bit skinny. Normally I wouldn't date younger than me, but it seems that by now I've exhausted the entire pool of available seventh years. And even some of the taken ones. Well. With the exception of you three. And that girl in Slytherin with those terrible glasses."

"I'm glad to hear we're in the same category. But- I thought you were dating Cynthia O'Flannery? Not that I approved of that; she was way too young for you."

"Oh, Moony. I don't need your approval. And besides, fourth year is not young. It was still legal, at the time. I think. But it doesn't matter now, because she was last week. Talked too much, didn't make for a good shag."

"I would lecture you on the inappropriateness of shagging a fourth year, but for some reason I think it would be lost on you." Remus frowned. "But how are you going to go on a date this afternoon? We have evening Potions at four."

"Okay, okay, you caught me." Sirius threw his hands upwards in mock defeat. "Paul and I are actually just going to snog in the Hufflepuff dorms, we're not really going on an official date-" he said the word in a stage whisper "-or anything. Have you ever been in there, Moony? Their beds are so much more sproingier than ours. It's really great if you want to-"

"Too much information. But, again. We have potions."

Sirius just blinked at him, and the predictable apathy made Remus smile, if only slightly.

"All right, then. You've made your point. Although I do think it's awful that you're luring some poor sixth year into a life of rebellion and debauchery."

"Who, Slinch? Unsuspecting? As if he hasn't gotten around enough already."

"Has he? In that case, you sure know how to pick them."

"On the contrary. They pick me."

Remus couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, well, one of these days you won't be able to help picking someone yourself and you'll see that some relationships go deeper than the sproinginess of mattresses."

"Deeper- ?"

"Please don't make some awful joke involving the words 'deeper' and 'mattress.' For the love of God."

Sirius looked very pleased with himself. "I'm quite glad we've trained you to catch the opportunity for a dirty joke one when arises. And when I say James, I mean we and I. Wait, no. I mean, when I say we, I mean James and James. I mean-" he stopped, with an odd look on his face.

If Remus didn't know him better, he would have said that Sirius was embarrassed, but nothing ever embarrassed Sirius, not ever. It couldn't be. But his eyes and face were suddenly quite wide, as if struck by something unexpected and unwanted. "He asked me to be his best man," Sirius muttered in an unnaturally soft voice, void of any arrogance or bravado. Remus suspected that he had been trying to find a way to fit this into conversation all along. Feeling his own stomach tighten, Remus answered:

"Oh. This morning."

Sirius nodded, running a hand over his face tiredly. "Yeah. And- and of course, I said yes, what on earth else could I say, but I mean. Being a best man implies all sorts of things. One of which being that you actually- er, approve of the coupling." He bit his lip. "Okay, maybe that's the only implication. But still. If I can't live up to that… It doesn't feel fair, somehow. To him, or to Lily. Or to me, but that's beside the point.

"James thinks I'm all up-and-eager about it. Excited. And I am excited, but it's a different kind of excited, kind of like 'I'm going to throw up' excited." He turned to Remus quickly. "Don't tell him that I told you any of this. He'd- he'd practically die, I think. I'm trying to be supportive, I really am, and it's just- Just falling flat. And he's going to see that. Eventually. Soon." He mulled this over in silence for a moment, then shook his head. "Anyway. Sorry to put such a downer on your afternoon. Not that the Troll Wars were particularly riveting in the first place." He leaned over Remus to check the time on his watch, then jumped to his feet. "Almost two-thirty. Gotta run, gotta get ready."

"For snogging and ditching class? Why, Pads. I thought you were always up for that."

"True facts, true facts." He stretched and looked overhead. "Think it's going to rain. You should get inside."

Remus shrugged. "I'll be in soon enough. But I'd like to deal with as little- er, canoodling between the soon-to-be newlyweds as possible."

Sirius made a rather grotesque face. "As long as they can keep it down, it's mostly tolerable."

"Noise or no noise. It's still incredibly-" Remus searched for the right word. "Upsetting."

"Aw, hey. No need to look so mournful about it." Sirius rocked back and forth on his feet, feigning nonchalance, as if trying to brush off the last twenty minutes of conversation. Turning to leave, he threw over his shoulder at Remus:

"Besides. It could be worse. It's not like you're in love with him or anything."

"Oh, that! Of course not. Ha." Remus laughed nervously to himself. "Ha ha ha."

Okay. I know it's not like hardcore RLSB or anything yet. But feedback is very, very welcome.

Gimme your criticism, baby.