Parchment
Entry for the 2016 RS Games on livejournal/tumblr/AO3
Team: Time
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Word Count: 4400
Summary: Remus Lupin finds the Marauder's Map again and does his best not to let a certain ghost from his past haunt him.
Notes: All the French is taken from Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. The first sentence translates to "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly." The second phrase translates to "What is essential is invisible to the eye." Thanks to my friend and beta for helping me out, without whom I probably would not have finished this story.
Prompt: #51 - "Mathematics has beauty and romance. It's not a boring place to be, the mathematical world. It's an extraordinary place; it's worth spending time there." - Marcus de Sautoy
.
.
Remus wasn't surprised to find that Harry Potter had the Marauder's Map. If he was truly honest with himself, he was surprised it hadn't happened earlier in the year. It felt almost inevitable that he would run into the map again, after all these years. Just like he knew it was inevitable that he would run into Sirius Black before the school year was over. His return back to Hogwarts would also be his return back to the Marauders. Or rather, what was left of them.
He supposed this year was going to be poetic like that.
The map felt heavy in his pocket, weighed down by ghosts of the past. He walked slowly back to his office after parting ways with Harry and Ron, unsure of what exactly he would do once alone. He knew he wouldn't find Black on the map. Someone smart enough to escape from Azkaban would surely remember to not stray too close to the castle. Even if Black was still under the assumption that the map remained in Filch's office like Remus had been until a few moments ago, he wouldn't risk getting too close.
Remus knew Sirius Black may be impulsive, but he was still horrifyingly intelligent. And he still had enough of his mind to plan and execute an escape from prison and a way to Hogwarts. Remus might have underestimated Black's capacity for cruelty during the war, but he had never underestimated his intelligence.
Remus entered his office and leaned against the closed door. He clutched the map in his hands, staring blankly at it. He wondered how well their charms and spells held up over the years and if it had been altered in any way by those that came across it. He highly doubted that Harry was the one to take it from Filch's office.
Traitorously, he wondered if the secret spell he and Black had added when they were still students was still in effect. He could feel his heart clench at the thought and immediately knew that he would test it. His mind wandered, for the first time in a long while, to Sirius and not Black.
.
.
.
Whenever he woke up first, Sirius always took time to watch the other boy in his bed. He watched Remus sleep, mouth parted open, breathing noisily and almost snoring. It was one of the rare times that Remus was completely unguarded and not carefully choosing his words or monitoring his actions. Remus simply was when he slept, and Sirius found nothing more peaceful than watching.
Remus told him once that it was a somewhat creepy habit, but Sirius disregarded his opinion. He knew Remus also thought it was somewhat romantic too.
It started off by accident. Sirius was the lighter sleeper of the two, and when they started sharing a bed, he would find himself awake in the mornings before Remus, limbs tangled together and sheets in disarray like some clichéd page out a bodice ripper. At first, he watched Remus out of sheer disbelief about their reality of their romantic relationship. Then it slowly morphed into something more serene. He watched Remus and felt at peace.
He didn't bother touching the other boy more than he already was when he woke up. He didn't run his fingers through Remus's messy, wavy hair or along his bare side feeling for his ribs. He didn't kiss him along his jawline to wake him up or move his foot up and down Remus's calf. Sirius merely watched the werewolf sleep, taking mental notes about how many breaths Remus took per minute (an average of thirteen) and how often his nose would twitch or how many words he would speak on the rare occasions that Remus talked in his sleep. Sirius had pages and pages full of notes about Remus sleeping in the morning in his mind.
But as much as Sirius enjoyed watching Remus sleep, he never enjoyed Remus's initial reaction upon waking.
.
.
.
Remus sat down behind his desk, placing the map flat on the table. He stared at the empty piece of parchment on top of scattered lesson plans and essays that had yet to be graded. He shakily took out his wand, wondering, not for the first time in the past hour, if he should have made his way to Dumbledore's office instead of his own. Surely such a tool should be handed in to ensure the safety of the school.
But Remus still hadn't told Dumbledore about Black's animagus form. And he knew he wouldn't be able to bring this map to Dumbledore's attention either. Sometimes Remus wondered where his true loyalties lay.
What if scenarios were as familiar friends as feelings of regret and shame. He had imagined every situation possible over the years. It turned out twelve years in relative solitude gave way to too much thinking, even when his body was exhausted and on the edge of consciousness. Remus had thought about what he would have done had Black shown up at his door after the betrayal. He wondered what he would do if he hadn't known about the betrayal or Peter's death. He wondered what he would do if Black had offered up another explanation for James and Lily's deaths. He wondered if he would have believed Black in the face of such evidence against him. Remus had wondered and wondered until he gave up and just let his overactive mind bring up more and more scenarios he couldn't answer.
Sometimes Remus had wondered if it had really been over twelve years since James, Lily, and Peter had gone. It felt like he hadn't managed to move beyond mourning their deaths. Or completely accept Black's betrayal.
Remus pointed his wand at the piece of parchment, letting the tip of it rest against it.
"I sol—" He paused, swallowing the tightness in his throat. He cleared his throat. "I solemnly sw—"
Remus sighed and released his wand, letting his head fall into his hands. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to relieve some of the tension he felt. He took a deep breath and picked up his wand again.
"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he managed to say.
.
.
.
Remus woke up the same as always, and though Sirius hadn't expected a different reaction, he had hoped for one. Remus's eyes sought his, mild disbelief and guarded uncertainty fading into a hazy happiness. Sirius didn't remember when he first realized that Remus woke up every morning expecting their relationship to have been either a dream or a lie, but ever since he had first seen it, it was all he could see whenever Remus opened his eyes. He couldn't ignore that brief moment when he knew Remus had to fight to reassure himself that they were together—that Sirius and he had chosen each other and were still choosing each other. It never lasted more than a few seconds, but it was always present each and every morning. Some days, Sirius wondered if Remus would ever completely let go and fall into their relationship like Sirius had.
"Morning Moony," he said softly, leaning forward to kiss him chastely on the lips. He heard Remus mumble something, and he reached up and placed his hand on the side of Remus's face, fingers resting lightly on top of a pulse point. He moved his thumb across the jawline, admiring all the lines and angles on his boyfriend's face. "I love you," he said, and watched as Remus's lips came together, stretched thin and pulled themselves into a soft smile. Remus's eyes, on the other hand, dimmed ever so slightly, and Sirius knew he didn't completely believe it.
"You too," Remus replied, voice rough and scratchy. He could feel Remus's right hand move beneath the covers to the side of his hip, rubbing his thumb against the slight bone protrusion. Sirius took note of Remus's words and tried not to mind the fact that Remus hardly ever directly said the words back to him. He told himself that as long as Remus still felt love for him, he'd settle for not ever hearing the words. It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, not really. Not if he still had Remus. "Happy anniversary," Remus said.
Sirius felt the gasp leave his body before he could stop it. "Anniversary?" he whispered.
Remus's eyes widened and Sirius could see a slow blush creep across his face. In the morning light, Remus's face reminded him of a sunset. No, Sirius thought, more like a sunrise. Like it was promising a brighter, better day ahead. Golden eyes sat on top soft, pink clouds, lighting up the start of the day and gently pulling him by the hand into a softer future.
"I—I know it's not entirely accurate. I counted our months–our months apart because I couldn't remember when we—when I forgave—anyways it didn't seem like I shouldn't count those months because I didn't stop liking you then. But if you—"
Sirius leaned forward and kissed him gently, interrupting the rambling. He felt hope begin to unfurl in his chest. "I wasn't sure you'd remember," he whispered as he pulled back to look at Remus fully. "Or that you'd choose the same date because of…" Sirius trailed off and Remus looked away. "Because of what I did."
"I forgave you for that," Remus responded immediately, looking back at him and frowning. Sirius could feel Remus moving his hand soothingly up and down his side, fingers running lightly over his ribs. He had been forgiven, and true to his word, Remus had never brought it up again, even when he easily could have. But even though Remus had forgiven him, he hadn't forgotten. Sirius didn't know if all the time in the world would be enough for Remus to banish the doubt that lingered in his mind regarding Sirius.
"I know. Thank you." Sirius smiled. Sometimes, Sirius still felt like he didn't deserve Remus, but he knew better than to say that out loud. He knew better than to give Remus any more doubt as to why they shouldn't be together. "Happy anniversary," he said in a much happier tone. "I have a present for you."
"You have a present for an anniversary you weren't completely sure of?" Remus raised an eyebrow.
Sirius shushed Remus by kissing him again before leaning away, angling his body across the bed. He used his legs—still entwined with Remus's during the night—as an anchor and leaned over the edge of the bed, stretching his arms and reaching down to grab something. Remus held Sirius's waist, making sure his boyfriend wouldn't fall off the bed. Using Remus as leverage, Sirius righted himself back onto the bed, shuffling closer to Remus and holding a piece of parchment and his wand behind his back.
Remus let out a chuckle. "You got me the map? The one I helped create?"
.
.
.
Remus watched as the map inked itself in, revealing all of Hogwarts and its inhabitants. His eyes sought out Harry's dot. He was with Ron and Hermione, and Remus could only hope that they were keeping themselves out of trouble.
He slowly scanned the castle, looking across all the little dots and names for anyone that shouldn't be there. He kept thinking about Sirius, and Remus didn't know whether it was because he was tired or lonely or just stupid but he couldn't muster enough hatred to stop his thoughts. He couldn't even conjure up the guilt or shame or self-hatred he usually felt whenever he thought of Black as Sirius. As if time and war hadn't ripped apart the boy he once knew and left a monster in his place.
A monster that was now free from prison.
His left hand twitched against the parchment, fingers rubbing against the ink of the castle walls. He thought back to his school days and of all the hours spent working on the map. He remembered all the careful calculations, the intricate, interlocking runes and spellwork. His throat closed up as he thought of James and Peter and their lost future. It was like everything that he had tried to grieve and move on from came rushing back at the announcement that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. Now, the war some twelve odd years ago was all he could think about.
Well, the war and the four boys ruined by it.
.
.
.
"It's what I added to the map, you pillock." Sirius let out a huff of exaggerated annoyance. He settled back into Remus's embrace, letting Remus rest one arm across his stomach. He tapped his wand against the map and said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
The map slowly became visible, filled with hundreds of dots and names. "Amazing spell. Wonderful addition," Remus laughed in his ear.
Sirius rolled his eyes, turning his head slightly to gently bite at Remus's jaw. Remus hummed in response and went back to rubbing his right thumb against Sirius's hip. Sirius loved these little moments of affection from Remus. They were completely unplanned and unguarded, and Sirius knew Remus was allowing himself to enjoy it all free of doubt and guilt about Sirius.
"Remus," Sirius mumbled against his boyfriend's jaw. "Focus. Gift."
He could hear Remus let out a scoff, and Sirius smiled. "You're the one that started distracting me," the werewolf complained.
Giving Remus one last kiss, Sirius pulled himself back, allowing him enough space to look at his boyfriend's face. "I added something to the map."
"Yes, you've said." Remus looked at him expectantly.
Sirius hesitated, suddenly unsure as to how Remus would receive his gift. He had intended it to be something to help Remus overcome his doubt regarding Sirius's true intentions and feelings for him, but now he wondered if it would come across too bold and audacious. But Remus was waiting on him, and as he looked into the other boy's eyes, he took a deep breath and decided to plunge forward.
"It's me," he said. The words tumbled out clumsily before he had a chance to think any further about it. He pointed his wand at an empty space in the top margin of the map. "On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur."
.
.
.
Remus thought back to Sirius's first anniversary present to him. He thought about the hidden spell they had kept from Peter and James, and his tongue felt heavy and thick behind his teeth, as if it were waiting for Remus to open his mouth to let it roll out carelessly.
He thought of the four personalities they added to the map. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Half now dead and the other half living for so long in some sort of isolation. The teenaged versions of themselves couldn't possibly reflect all the changes wrought by the passing years.
But that didn't make them any less true. If he pointed his wand and spoke to Prongs, he knew Prongs would speak back. And Prongs would recognize him. And he could pretend for a moment Prongs wasn't dead.
He knew it wasn't real, though, he did. Or rather, it was real in a sense but not completely accurate. Especially now, after all the years, changes, and loss. It was just a living fragment of the past suspended in time, meticulously held together by carefully crafted arithmetic equations and interlocking rune work. It was time travel, he realized, in a way. To a time before the war. Before the betrayal.
His hand shook, and Remus wondered if he had ever held a wand steady in his hand before. It felt unlikely with the way his hand trembled. The words were lodged in his throat, begging like hollow ghosts to be let out. His heart pounded, rattling like a half dead bird in the empty ribcage of his chest. He felt so hollow and undeniably needy. It was a desperation so consuming—something he hadn't felt in years.
.
.
.
Remus watched, transfixed, as words appeared on the map in Sirius's neat cursive, reading Mr. Padfoot would like to inform Mr. Moony that he is in possession of Mr. Padfoot's undying love and admiration. Sirius saw his expression shift from confusion to surprise before settling on something he couldn't read. He couldn't tell what Remus had thought of his little spell work.
"Wha—how? What did you do?" Remus asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral. Sirius felt a stab of disappointment go through his chest. The whole purpose of his gift was to get Remus to let down his guard, not put up more.
"My mother has eleven portraits of her commissioned. Or at least that's the number she had when I left. It might have gone up by now. I sort of grew up with painters carefully figuring out my mother and immortalizing her," Sirius tried to explain. "It's a similar process. Deconstructing myself to series of equations and inserting me into the map." His brows furrowed and he pursed his lips a bit to the side, not entirely happy with his explanation nor how the situation was turning out.
Remus lifted his hand away from Sirius's waist, and though Sirius was saddened by the loss of warmth, he was pleased to see Remus touch the parchment with a kind of reverence.
"You're in the map," he said slowly.
Sirius nodded. "Yeah."
"And the map you loves me."
"I love you."
Remus looked at him, and Sirius couldn't breathe. He still couldn't determine Remus's reaction to his present. "I can add the others too," he said in a panic, erasing what he had thought was the romantic gesture of his gift. Remus hadn't seemed to appreciate it, and all Sirius could think to do was backtrack. "With their help. It'll give the map personality. We can make it insult Snape if he ever picks it up or something." Remus merely stared at him, and Sirius tried his best not to fidget. He had made a mistake with the anniversary gift, he realized. Remus didn't like it. Maybe it was the constant reminder that Sirius loved him. Spoken words he knew Remus could ignore. Written words were another matter.
"And me?" Remus asked.
Sirius could feel his heart jumping erratically in his chest and debated on whether or not to lie. "You're already in the map with me. That's—I—it was part of the present."
.
.
.
Remus knew there were reasons why he shouldn't interact with the map any more than he already had. He had checked it thrice over and saw no sign of Sirius Black. It was time to put it away for now and focus on the essays he had still yet to grade. He knew no good would come from trying to relive the past that seemed like it belonged to another lifetime.
His hands quivered as he moved them about the map. He knew what he had to do, but couldn't bring himself to hide the contents of the map. He gripped his wand in his right hand and pointed the tip at the map. Two words, he thought. He only had to say two words and then move on with his day. Two words.
Instead, he thought about Sirius. About the other boy's favorite book, how he looked in the light of morning when Remus used to wake up next to him, the way he took his tea, and how his fingers felt interlaced with Remus's own. And then he thought about how that all changed after Hogwarts. How suspicion and mistrust leaked into their relationship and started eating away at the shaky foundations. He thought about the increasing distance, pulling both of them further and further apart the longer the war raged on. And finally, he thought about Black, the murderer and escaped prisoner. He knew it wasn't accurate to think of them as two different people, but even after all these years, Remus still had trouble reconciling what Black had become with what he knew of Sirius. Or perhaps what he thought he knew.
"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur," he said in a hoarse voice, hating himself for the perfect memory and pronunciation and wondering if Sirius had ever truly loved the book as much as he claimed, or if it had been a hoax to convince Remus of his blood traitor status. His heart ached as he waited for the map to recognize both his wand and verbal password, half hoping that the spell had dissipated throughout the years.
.
.
.
"You put me in the map?" Remus asked.
Sirius nodded.
Remus gave him a small smile, and Sirius let himself hope that he hadn't spoiled the day. He removed his hand from the map and returned it to Sirius's hip, pulling him slightly closer. Sirius took it as a good sign. "So you reduced me to a bunch of numbers and stuck me into a piece of parchment?"
"And letters. And some runes," Sirius answered. "I'd like to think I know you pretty well."
Remus laughed and a puff of warm air blew across Sirius's collarbones. The hand at his hip crawled up and lightly rubbed at his side. Sirius let himself relax in Remus's embrace. "That's incredibly…sappy," the werewolf said, but Sirius smiled at the happy tone in his voice. "Show me?"
Sirius shifted a bit and tapped the map with his wand again. "L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." They waited a few seconds before a messy handwriting appeared on the map. Mr. Moony would like to inform Mr. Padfoot that he is a prat. But one that holds the affections of Mr. Moony nonetheless.
Sirius felt Remus's laugh before he heard it and relished the soft kisses he felt against his neck. "I guess that's pretty accurate." Remus lifted his head from the bed and propped his left arm up on its elbow, looking down at Sirius. His eyebrows furrowed a little, and Sirius worried he had done something wrong after all. "I don't speak French though."
Sirius smiled. "I can teach you. It's really only two phrases, and they're both from the book I got you for Christmas. One to activate Padfoot and one for Moony."
Remus rolled his eyes. "The book you got me for Christmas is the English translation. Not a speck of French in it. I checked."
Sirius shrugged. He tapped the map with his wand, muttering "Mischief managed," and placed it behind him. He reached out to pull Remus back down next to him. "You'll pick it up. Only two phrases," he said again. He felt Remus hum against him and hesitated. "Did you like it?" he asked, full of uncertainty again.
"Yeah," he heard from Remus. "Very thoughtful. Very…permanent."
"It is," he agreed. "But it's not like my love for you will change."
Remus pulled back to look at Sirius in the eyes. Believe me, Sirius thought as he stared back. Remus's right hand came away from his waist and gently curled against his neck. The back of his fingers brushed against Sirius's cheek as Remus's eyes surveyed him still. Believe me, Sirius thought again.
Then, very slowly, Remus leaned forward and kissed Sirius gently on the lips. "I love you," Remus whispered, and Sirius cut the kiss short unintentionally by smiling widely with too much teeth. Remus laughed as he pulled back, and Sirius swore he would never get tired of that sound. "Teach me French?" Remus asked.
"Later." He pulled his boyfriend back and proceeded to rectify the shortened kiss.
.
.
.
Mr. Padfoot hopes that Mr. Moony has been well in the extremely long years since he has had the pleasure of conversation with the love of his life. And Mr. Padfoot would like to remind Mr. Moony, on the incredibly rare off chance that he has forgotten, that Mr. Moony shall now and forever hold Mr. Padfoot's eternal affection and adoration.
Remus didn't know what else he expected, but the words in Sirius's neat handwriting on the parchment were still there, even after he closed and reopened his eyes. A sudden feeling of nausea and disgust overcame him. It didn't make him feel better to know that whatever incarnation of Sirius in the map loved him, especially since he could no longer say for sure if he had ever truly known Sirius. Maybe Sirius had loved him—still loved him—but Sirius didn't exist anymore outside of a silly piece of parchment. Black was the one on the hunt so incredibly close to Hogwarts. Black was the one that was alive and on the prowl for—well, Remus didn't know what exactly. Revenge? Murder?
Remus could feel that a confrontation was imminent. And he knew he would have no chance of survival if he kept thinking of Black as Sirius and let his guard down. "Sirius Black is a liar," he said out loud, as if it would be easier to believe. He is a liar, a traitor, and a murderer, he thought, and all the anger and aching hurt and betrayal came rushing back, pushing whatever little feeling of longing he had left for Sirius—nonexistent, imaginary Sirius—away.
Mr. Padfoot would like to apologize to Mr. Moony for whatever it is that he has done to awaken Mr. Moony's ire. If given the chance, Mr. Padfoot would like to try and earn Mr. Moony's good favor again. Perhaps via bedroom activities of Mr. Moony's choosing. Mr. Padfoot would also like to remind Mr. Moony that the undying love is still present. And that Mr. Padfoot is currently not lying because the map never lies.
Remus stared at the map, startled by the new writing until he realized the tip of his wand was still touching the piece of parchment. He removed his wand from the map and quickly stood up. He had to end this, or he'd waste all afternoon talking to a ghost. And it would weaken his defenses when he'd meet the real man himself. He quickly folded up the map, not bothering to hide its contents and locked it in his drawer. He'd have to continuously check the map for Black's presence, but he knew he couldn't speak to Sirius again. He had to be smart if he was going to survive this year. Survive meeting Black face to face.
And in order to do that, he had to let go of Sirius.