Remus watches him from the chair in the corner, the one farthest away from the fire. The one that enables him to be bathed in shadows and invisible. He doesn't want to be watching Sirius. He wants to hate Sirius. He wants to shove his fist through Sirius' nose and walk away without remorse eating away at his gut. He wants to fall asleep easily, without feeling Sirius' name reverberating throughout his body, without craving the warm, soft heat of Sirius at his back, without wanting Sirius' breath echoing against his shoulder and ruffling his hair. Remus' eyebrows furrow and he turns his gaze away from the boy with the invisible heart, hating the loving so much.
Remus is sitting in the chair in the corner, the one farthest away from the fire. The one that he thinks enables him to be bathed in shadow and invisible. He is utterly alone and so guarded, as guarded as he was the first day on the Hogwarts Express, but differently. Sirius remembers a small, scared boy huddled between his trunk and the wall, turning scared eyes to the floor whenever spoken to. That Remus was vulnerable and malleable, willing to befriend Sirius, even if a bit begrudgingly. This Remus is haunted and angry. His eyes bite as sharply as teeth and his love for Sirius, for life, has turned into a dark disdain, laced with fierce malice.
Sirius watches him from the center of the room. He is standing completely still, watching Remus. He loves watching Remus. Except now, Remus won't give him the secret smile when he looks up and catches him. Now he gets the angry, disdainful glare, the glare that sends daggers into Sirius' gut because it's so full of hurt. Hurt that Sirius put there. Remus hates Sirius and Sirius hates himself, hates that he made Remus hate him.
The noise of the after-quidditch victory party muffles and a direct sound tunnel forms between the center of the room and the chair in the corner. They can hear each other breathing. Sirius can hear the rustle of cloth as Remus moves his arm from his lap to the arm rest. Remus can hear Sirius' breathing quicken as he allows their eyes to meet for the first time in two weeks. Both boys feel the eye contact send a thrill down their bodies. Sirius breaks his stillness and shivers. Remus sees the regret that has caused Sirius to remain almost completely silent for two weeks. Sirius sees the hatred that Remus is forcing himself to feel begin to crumble.
Remus dips his chin ever so slightly and Sirius' feet begin to move, almost not touching the floor. He kneels at Remus' feet, laying himself bare as he stares pleadingly up into his eyes. Remus allows the anger to run its quick course, deserting his body, but leaving his cheeks covered in tears. Sirius shrugs his jumper off and wipes Remus' cheeks a little too roughly with the sleeves. Remus gently takes the jumper from Sirius and lays it on the floor. Then he too slides to the floor, landing on his knees in front of Sirius with his hands wrapped around Sirius' hips. They look at each other, carefully and hesitantly at first. A whispered affirmation from Remus catapults Sirius into his arms, shaking and shuddering with the force of his own heart, which, he thinks, might explode at any moment.
The rest of Gryffindor swigs on butterbeer and firewhiskey, oblivious to the happenings on the floor in front of the chair in the corner, but to the two involved, it is a night of quiet cacophony. No one notices as Remus Lupin and Sirius Black slip up the stairs to the sixth year boys' dormitory, and when James and Peter finally come up to bed, they are too drunk to notice that Sirius' bed is empty.
