Title: Remus Lupin's Guide to Successful Courting
Disclaimer: Brilliant Art Work Credits: the band. deviant art art /Sirius - and - Remus- 43455824; Definitions are taken from www. Dictionary. Com
Warnings: Sillyness, odd references, inappropriate behaviour
Rating: M
Chapter Twelve: [ek-stuh-see]
'Why don't you put that tape recorder away, Dumbledore. Let's keep this conversation off the record for all our sakes.'
'Will you be admitting to some heinous crime, Dr. Crouch?' Dumbledore's tone was far from joking. A grim silence followed after which Dumbledore was heard sighing followed by over exaggerated and rather noisy shuffling. 'It's off. Now why don't you explain to me, Crouch, why Mr. Lupin can no longer be treated at your prestigious hospital?'
'Contrary to popular opinion, Dumbledore, we are not running a charity organisation here. It is bad enough that we are having to deal with the backlash of John Lupin's insanity – the media are eating us alive. Suddenly, it is the hospital's negligence and disregard that caused John Lupin to lock his own son into a room for over sixteen bloody years.' A deep breath.
'And what will happen with the press when they find out that you are refusing to treat the victim of your negligence, may I ask?' Dumbledore's voice sounded cool, collected.
'We have not refused him; we have simply asked to relocate him.'
'To an institution...in isolation…' There was accusation in Dumbledore's voice.
'You have seen that boy, Dumbledore! He is not something rehabilitation can cure; he cannot even breathe fresh air without passing out! His eyes; his malnourished frame, his behavioral patterns - he is barely even human.' A sharp breath, 'He should have never been saved, Dumbledore. As mercy to both him and this world, that boy should have died that day along with his father...'
A finger pushed the stop button, forcing Sirius to look up from his notebook. He looked up to see Dumbledore staring back at him, a solemn look gracing his features. 'Perhaps that is enough for today,' he said, his tone allowing for no argument. 'There are some things that should never be said, nor heard, no matter how true, Dr. Black. Crouch had crossed that invisible line. Needless to say, society did not take to him kindly once this tape was been released.' He sat down in the visitor's chair, calmly pulling out the tape from the slot and pocketing it, assuring that Sirius never heard the rest of it. 'Crouch was stripped of his license shortly after and he is now in a position much worse that John Lupin as a father. His son was arrested not long ago for association with an underground drug conglomerate. But I'm sure you knew that already, didn't you?'
Sirius nodded, unable to speak due to the bile steadily rising up his throat. He shoved Remus's files away and even though he had turned his head the other way, he could still see the initial pictures they had taken when Remus had first been brought in –he looked small, like a child not more than twelve. His bones had been spindly and weak; skin so pale that he looked whitewashed and eyes so wide and innocent that he seemed unable to comprehend the sham that was the real world.
Dumbledore sighed. 'Sirius, I'm glad that you are suddenly taking an interest in Remus, but perhaps you have reached a point where knowing little is knowing more.' When Sirius only replied with a frown, Dumbledore leaned closer, fingers crossing together to rest under his chin. 'Sirius, the reason I gave you Remus's files was to understand him, not to pity him. The further you dig, the more dirt you will uncover; and much of it might stain not only your hands but your perception of Remus as well. Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?'
Pity? Did Sirius feel pity? Perhaps he did, but more than anything, he felt disgusted and angry and so very wronged on behalf of Remus. 'Do you really think he's not human?' Sirius asked instead, changing the topic because he was not yet ready to deal with the implications of what his feelings meant. 'You said, some things should never be said no matter how true – do you really think he's not human?' Unknowingly, his voice took on an almost threatening tone to it.
Dumbledore sighed again, leaning back into this chair. He seemed tired, like he'd dealt with this issue far too many times. 'No, but I cannot deny that he is not like you and me,' he replied kindly. 'It may sound harsh to you, Sirius, but as someone who has worked with Remus from the very beginning, I need to have you understand. Remus is a program. He is programmed to smile when he shakes your hand; he is programmed to frown when he is upset; he is programmed to laugh at your jokes and eat when his stomach growls. Every reaction, every expression on his face – he exhibits them because he has been taught by me how and when to.'
Sirius's hands clenched into tight fists.
'It is a cruel truth,' Dumbledore said softly when he noticed Sirius's hands. 'Something we all, as people who care for Remus, have trouble comprehending, I'm sure.' When he found that Sirius was unwilling to say much more, he took it as a cue to leave. He stood up from his chair, patting Sirius's still clenched fists. 'I came to take back the files I let you borrow, for the sole reason that it seems you've been neglecting your work. As your superior, I cannot have you turning away your patients and as your friend, I cannot have someone else's past consume you like this. I hope you understand.'
'They told me I would find you here,' Sirius called out, speeding up his jog to a run.
'He's gone off to the Shrieking Shack, Dr. Black. I'm sorry, I mean, the little cottage off of 18th Street, past the dairy farm.'
'Just because they've signed off your discharge paper doesn't mean you're well enough to go wandering off on your own,' Sirius panted, doubling to rest his hands on his knees. He looked through the curtain of his hair towards the slim figure lying on the grass, back faced towards him.
'Why do you call it the Shrieking Shack?'
'Because in the first years of therapy with Dumbledore;that's all you could hear in that house.'
'Oi, you're not asleep, are you?' Sirius asked, edging closer once he'd caught his breath. Remus was laid on his side, one arm folded beneath his head while the other, broken arm held across his chest. His face was turned away, partially hidden behind the overgrown grass. Vaguely, Sirius wondered who had helped Remus change back to his normal clothes. They hadn't done a very good job, Sirius noted, since one of Remus's socks was blue and the other a bright red.
'Remus,' Sirius called again, sitting down next to Remus with his legs crossed. His knee gently nudged Remus's shoulder. 'Remus, please look at me.'
'No,' Remus replied. They were the first words that Remus had uttered since Sirius's last visit to the hospital with Harry. That was three days ago, and Sirius had been lax as both a friend and a parent. He had yet to broach the subject of the incident with Harry and knowingly caused Remus a good amount of heartbreak in the process. Sirius took responsibility for his cowardice; because that is exactly what he'd been these past three days: a coward. Afraid of making the situation worse; of scaring Harry even further when he'd finally begun to calm down; of breaking Remus.
'Remus, please look at me,' Sirius pleaded, moving even closer so that the side of his thigh was pressed against Remus's back. 'Please.'
'No.'
Sirius did not think this was going to be easy, but damn it, he had come, hadn't he? However late, he had come for Remus. 'Why not? Am I not pretty enough for you anymore?' He joked, trying to make light of a situation which was clearly only going to spiral from here. He nudged Remus with his toes, trying his best to get Remus's attention without seeming too desperate. He wasn't desperate, because desperate would mean that he cared more for Remus than he was willing to acknowledge at this point. Not that Sirius did not care at all. There was affection, but affection could be felt for many things – pets, parents, children, friends, maybe lovers.
'You are the most beautiful person in the world,' Remus replied immediately and not for the first time, Sirius was taken aback at how easily such endearments spilled out of Remus's mouth. One thing Dumbledore had forgotten to teach Remus, it seemed, was tact. Yet, Sirius admired how Remus had neither qualms nor any of the fears and restraints that held most people like Sirius back from approaching their feelings.. 'But I do not want to see you.'When Sirius questioned why, Remus's body tightened – a sign of discomfort. 'Your eyes have changed,' he replied vaguely. Sensing Sirius's continued confusion, he struggled to explain further. 'You look at me like the others…it's not the same anymore. I do not want to see it.'
Sirius did not understand.
It really was ironic how a man so good with words on paper found it so hard to express himself in real life. The turmoil of emotions Remus experienced was his alone to bear because he could not channel it well enough for anyone to comprehend. Sirius could only understand the crease on Remus's forehead, half hidden behind long grass; he felt the discomfort in Remus's body language; and saw the way Remus's fingers twirled in the ground as if itching to express themselves.
'Here,' Sirius pulled out a pen from his breast pocket, uncapping it before handing it over to Remus. He rolled up the shirt sleeve of his right hand and then presented it to him. 'Let's pretend we're part of a story. Let's pretend we're friends in that story; and that while devilishly handsome and perfect in every which way, one friend has done something wrong without meaning to.' Sirius knew he had caught Remus's attention, when the other man's face slowly started to peek out from between the fold of his arm. He pretended to be nonchalant when he felt the black pen being pulled from between his fingers. 'You can write that story down; all of Moony's feelings towards Padfoot. Things like Padfoot is such a prick, or Padfoot needs to be hit with a carrot for his stupidity.' He smiled gently and nudged his arm-canvas forward. 'Go on.'
The minute the nib of the pen touched his skin, Sirius knew he had made the right decision. Despite living with Remus for over a month now, he had yet to see Remus write; perhaps because he had never noticed or because he never knew until recently that Remus was a famous author. He had thought painting was Remus's element; had been entranced that day as he watched each brush stroke contribute to the clarity of a masterpiece. Sirius had been wrong, if the way Remus's pen slid across his skin was any indication. Sirius had clearly given Remus an outlet; and all of a sudden, words were filling his arms faster than he could read. The writing was smooth, a running calligraphy that seemed too sophisticated for the century they were living in now. Sirius recognised it from all the pictures he had seen in Remus's files – the drawings that had filled the walls of Remus's room during his entrapment.
Love is a funny thing.
Moony searched for it. He searched for it because many had told him that love would bring him happiness. Love would be an end to Moony's loneliness. It was a loneliness that persisted even though everyone in town knew him. It settled in the eyes of people in the form of fear, and grew and grew till Moony could not tell one from the other. And when it felt as though all hope was lost, Moony found Padfoot: a man with eyes so clear that Moony could see in them the reflection of his own smile.
Sirius swallowed, realising that Remus had reached the end of his arm but still had more left to write. He turned his arm as an offer but realised he had too much body hair to be able to write anything it without the pen getting stuck. He unbuttoned and folded his other sleeve, offering his left arm reluctantly. Suddenly, he did not want Remus to write anymore. It made him uncomfortable; more so than everything else that Remus did. It sounded ridiculous even in his head; it seemed Sirius had a fear of blatant honestly.
For love, Moony tried hard to be human like everybody else.
Sirius frowned when he read the starting sentence but found himself paralysed in place.
But the truth always comes out in the end. Padfoot had seen what everyone else saw: a monster.
'That's enough,' Sirius whispered harshly, snatching his arm back and wincing as the pen dragged across his arm in a crooked line. He rubbed his skin with the pad of his thumb, increasing pressure when he realised the ink would not smudge or go away. The word 'monster' stared back at him in mockery. 'Enough already…' He rubbed harder, his eyes fixed on the writing etched into his skin as he steadfastly ignored looking at Remus's face. He did not know what he expected to see, but he dreaded it. He dreaded it despite knowing that Remus probably did not have a "program" to react to situations like this. Sirius knew that the only expression Remus would have now was blank. 'Who told you these things?' he asked angrily, swiping the hair out of his face. 'Who called you a monster, tell me?' His head whipped furiously towards Remus, indignant eyes meeting what he had thought would be impassive. He was shocked, therefore, when he was met with tears instead.
And suddenly, Sirius understood what Dumbledore had meant about the perils of knowing too much. Remus had wanted to start afresh with Sirius – the only person in this little town who knew nothing of his past and did not judge him for it.
Big fat tears rolled down gaunt, pale cheeks and all Sirius could think was that it was impossible. It was impossible because Dumbledore had said that Remus was a program and if that were true, then he shouldn't be able to cry. You could not teach someone how to cry; not like this not where just looking at it made Sirius's teeth hurt. 'Stop that,' Sirius said shakily, his stomach filling up with acid that burned and ached, and made him feel so, so sick. 'Stop that,' A shaky hand rose to wipe Remus's face, again and again like a car wiper on a rainy day.
Sirius wondered if Remus knew what he looked like now, with his brown hair in disarray across his face and his cheeks stained with tears. He wondered if Remus knew he was crying. 'I told you to stop,' Sirius scolded harshly, before pulling Remus into a rough embrace. He felt Remus stiffen and struggle in his arms, but only tightened his hold knowing full well that he might be hurting Remus. 'You're not a monster,' Sirius argued vehemently, 'you're not a program. Just because people do not understand you, doesn't mean they are free to give you whatever labels they please. You don't have to always try so hard to be like everyone else just to be accepted. You need to try to find people who accept you as you are, even if who you are is an annoying, overtly persistent, daft man that eats too much chocolate to be considered healthy. It is your insanity that I'm in lov-' Sirius bit his tongue suddenly, wincing when it burned sharply. 'You are fine as you are,' he finished lamely, suddenly feeling rather silly for his outburst.
He tried to pull away from Remus but found himself unable to. Somewhere during his overtly dramatic and passionate speech (where he had clearly gotten carried away and gone through a period of verbal vomit), Remus had reciprocated his embrace and wrapped himself so tightly around Sirius that it was border lining a choke hold. 'Er,' Sirius awkwardly shifted around, trying to move his legs – something Remus seemed to have mistaken for a chair. 'You aren't still crying, are you?' He asked, feeling extremely uncomfortable when he felt Remus's shaky breath against his neck. He pressed a hand to the back of Remus's head, his fingers slipping in between strands of light brown. 'Oi, come on. Let go already.' Sirius ignored the contradiction his own body seemed to be displaying as one hand continued to caress Remus's hair while the other rubbed his back soothingly (in case he really was still crying). 'Come on, you're a grown man,' Sirius tried, fidgeting to keep his legs from falling asleep. 'What are you doing?'
'Stopping you from leaving,' Remus replied, his voice muffled in Sirius's shirt.
Suddenly, Sirius realised he knew one other person in the entire world who wrapped himself around Sirius like a monkey, exactly as Remus was doing right now, every Monday before going to school. 'Did Harry teach you this tactic?'
Sirius felt Remus nod against his collarbone. 'Is it working?' he asked, moving closer on Sirius's lap and pushing all the wrong (right) bits together. Sirius was quickly losing connection between his brain and the southern regions of his body. He was trying to be sensitive, he really was, because he could still hear the hint of tears in Remus's voice and he was still trying to make amends; but did Remus have to make this so difficult?
'It never works with Harry,' Sirius replied dryly.
Remus looked up, his eyes rimmed red. 'You won't leave, will you?'
To a face like a kicked puppy, Sirius would be inhuman to say no. 'I won't leave.'
'Even Harry?' Remus asked and Sirius noticed the hope in his voice rise. 'You won't take him away, will you? He's my best friend.'
'No,' Sirius replied, 'No, I'll talk to him.' He patted Remus on the back as an urge to get up. 'We'll take you home first and then we can talk to Harry together, okay?' When Remus nodded hesitantly, Sirius smiled in the most reassuring way he knew. 'Harry hasn't taught you how I carry him all the way to school afterwards, has he?'
Remus shook his head.
Sirius sighed in relief.
'How was school today?'
Harry seemed to have not heard, his eyes fixed on Remus who was standing in the far corner of the room apprehensively. It was a positive sign, Sirius thought, that Harry was not crying, screaming, or kicking to get out like the other day. Sirius had hardly said anything and had managed to make progress; this was his optimistic thought for the day. Remus, on the other hand, was afraid. Sirius wasn't sure how he knew Remus was afraid because nothing about the other man's face indicated his inner turmoil. The momentary slip of face back in the shack had dissolved and Remus's stoic expression was back again as if nothing had ever happened. The only sign of what had transpired was the residual redness in the whites of Remus's eyes.
'Did you have fun? You said they were going to do finger painting in class, didn't you?' Sirius urged on, bouncing Harry on his knee to get his attention. 'Was it fun?'
Harry shook his head. 'No.'
'Why not?'
Harry looked up at Sirius. 'It's funner with Moony.'
Funner is not a word, Sirius should have said, but he was too busy feeling relieved over the fact that Harry seemed to acknowledge that "Moony" was fun and not "scary". 'I'm sure Moony would be happy to finger paint with you today, won't you, Moony?' Sirius asked, turning to Remus with a reassuring smile. When Remus did nothing but nod, Sirius carried on the awkward conversation to his best possible effort. 'But Moony broke his arm, so we have to be careful. He won't be able to pick you up to reach all the high places.'
Harry looked contemplative, as if weighing his options. Would the joys of finger painting all across the Lupin house walls win over his fears?
Sirius sighed. Honestly, he had thought that he would not be having any difficult conversations with Harry for at least another seven years. Somehow, it felt as if at this point, talking about the birds and the bees would be a lot easier than this. 'Harry, love,' he started, knowing he could not beat around the bush any longer. 'do you remember that day when I didn't take you to the park even though you really, really wanted to; and then you got so, so upset that you kicked me in the shins.?'
'I said I was sorry!' Harry wailed, covering his eyes with his hands and scrunching up his face in a severe pout. It was a sign that Harry was readying himself up for a good, fake cry should he find that Sirius still held that grudge and might punish Harry again. Brat, he thought affectionately, as Sirius remembered that he would do the very same thing back in his school days.
'I know, sweetheart,' Sirius assured, patting Harry on the head. 'But do you remember how upset you were that time?'
Harry nodded, eyes wide.
'And do you remember how awful it felt when no one was listening to you, even though you wanted to go to the park a lot?'
Again, a nod in affirmation.
'Well, that's how Moony was also feeling that day in the bookshop when he got mad,' Sirius explained in a low, gentle voice. He hoped he sounded like an understanding parent and not his usual gruff and crude self.
'Moony also wanted to go the park?' Harry asked, curiously looking towards Remus.
Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose – so much for understanding parent. 'No, Harry, Moony was upset.'
Harry blinked. 'Why?'
'Because he was scared.'
'Why?'
'I thought we were done with your "why" phase!' Sirius growled, losing patience.
'I was scared because I thought no one would ever come,' Remus spoke up, taking Sirius by surprise. 'The sky was beautiful that day – I wanted to see it.'
And somehow, that utterly simplistic and vague explanation seemed to clarify all of Harry's doubts better than Sirius's ramblings.
'I'm not bad,' Remus continued, his feet shuffling as if wanting to come closer to them but hesitant to. Even when Sirius beckoned him with one hand, he stayed put in his place, fidgeting uncomfortably. 'I'm not scary…I try not to be.' His amber eyes wandered across both Sirius and Harry's faces, as if searching for a sign of acceptance. 'I will never hurt you.'
Harry looked hesitant, his body rocking back and forth as if unsure whether to go to Remus or stay with Sirius. There was residual fear holding him back. 'Harry, Remus is your best friend, isn't he?'
Harry shook his head. 'Ron is my best friend,' he corrected. 'Moony is my bestest friend.'
Where, Sirius wondered with an exasperated hand across his eyes, did Harry pick up such horrendous vocabulary? 'Well, Remus is still Remus; and sometimes he does things when he's upset just like you or me but we should forgive him if he's sorry, shouldn't we? Just like I forgave you when you kicked me in the shins,' the mark of true parenting, Sirius thought, was bringing up the same mistake of your child's past at opportune times for the rest of his little life. Harry pouted furiously again, clearly displeased that Sirius would yet again mention his misbehaviour. 'Remus bought sorry chocolates, didn't you, Remus?'
Remus nodded feverishly, his hands moving inside his pockets and fishing out the chocolates Sirius had advised him to keep as ammo. It was a lucky thing that little children were so easily bribed. It was also lucky that little children very rarely kept grudges and were a lot more accepting of people than adults were. As predicted, Harry jumped off Sirius's lap and raced up to Remus, hands greedily reaching for the sweets in Remus's outstretched hands. It seems Harry's fears had been abated now and Sirius could see Remus's thin lips stretching into a slow smile. He looked at Sirius almost disbelievingly; perhaps Remus hadn't expected it to be this easy with Harry. Truthfully, neither did Sirius.
'Guess he really loves you, eh?' Sirius murmured more to himself than Remus, as he watched Harry smear chocolate all over Remus's cheek and then trace a little heart onto it with his index. 'Guess I do, too.'
School [skool]: an institution where instruction is given, especially to persons under college age.
Remus had never really been to school before. This might be a consequence of the fact that he was no longer an age considered applicable for school. Also, Remus found, upon research for his books and his curiosity, that school curriculums often lacked critical information that needed to be learned in order to understand this world and the ways of life. Remus's finding were confirmed when he had once asked Harry whether he knew about Schrödinger's Cat and Harry had replied by saying he knew much more about his friend, Hermione Granger's cat, Crookshanks, and if Remus would like to meet it.
Remus fidgeted in his seat. It was hard and wooden, and extremely uncomfortable. It was also rather small, though not as small as the furniture Remus had seen while passing by Classroom Number KG-2. The furniture had all been green and yellow, and arranged in straight lines. They had been so small that even a man of average height like Remus would only be able to fit a quarter of his buttocks on it. The entire school was painted in various shades, like pink, yellow, green, and blue; and while Remus was extremely fond of colours, he was not at all fond of the paint work that had been cruelly done upon such lovely walls. Especially not of the lopsided cartoon characters that appeared at almost every step of the way.
Currently, as Remus sat on his highly uncomfortable chair, triangle eared Mickey Mouse was looking at him with an unnecessary amount of glee.
Distasteful [dis-teyst-fuhl]: unpleasant, offensive, or causing dislike.
Remus was still not sure how he had ended up in St. George's Primary School. He only remembered receiving a phone call from Ms. Periwinkle this morning. While Remus was not the best judge of character or emotions, he could tell quite clearly that Ms. Periwinkle was in a state of extreme unhappiness.
'Hello, this is Ms. Periwinkle, Harry's teacher. Am I speaking to Harry Potter's guardian?'
Guardian [gahr-dee-uhn]: a person who is entrusted by law with the care of the person or property, or both, of another, as a minor or someone legally incapable of managing his or her own affairs.
Remus frowned; would it be rude to agree that Harry was incapable of managing his own affairs? Harry had managed to put on his school uniform with all his buttons in the right holes today and had also eaten breakfast without a fuss. If anything, Remus thought Harry had shown remarkable improvement. 'No,' he replied instead, 'I am Remus Lupin.'
There was a pause on the other end of the line and Remus was left to wonder is Ms. Periwinkle had left the phone hanging. It seemed like quite a rude thing to do. Finally, she spoke. 'Mr. Lupin, Harry gave me your number when we could not reach his father, Sirius Black. I assume you're his secondary caretaker?'
Remus was extremely confused. Was he Harry's secondary caretaker? Not knowing how to answer such a complicated question, he answered with the best possible alternative: 'Yes.'
'Oh good,' Ms. Periwinkle sounded relieved and Remus was glad that he had chosen the right answer. 'Mr. Lupin, I need you to come to the school to discuss Harry's behaviour. I don't want you to worry too much...'
Remus was not worried at all.
'But his behaviour today really has been inexcusable and his penchant for trouble only seems to be growing.' Her tone rose as she spoke and Remus realised that this was quite serious. 'I've discussed this with Harry's father before, but if this carries on, we really might have to take disciplinary action. Harry might have to be suspended.'
Suspend [suh-spend]: to hang by attachment to something above.
'Oh dear,' Remus worried. The disciplinary action seemed a little harsh. Remus had thought such punishment had long been outlawed and was only something he read in history books. This was quite the predicament; he certainly did not want Harry to be hurt in the process of suspension. 'Please tell me when I should come.'
'Mr. Lupin, you may come in now.'
Remus nodded, glad to be out of the chair, as he followed the secretary into the principal's office. Harry was already sitting there, his arms crossed over his chest and his cheeks puffed in a rather unfitting pout. Another woman sat by his side, looking just as angry and glaring quite horridly at Remus as he entered and took a seat beside her. Remus wondered if she was Ms. Periwinkle. A small glance towards her name badge confirmed that yes, she was. She looked much nicer than she sounded over the phone; Remus would have never pinned her as a woman capable of such cruel acts such as child torture.
Remus turned towards the principle, an old woman that had a rather stern look on her face. Her name plate read, Minerva McGonagall. He had never met anyone with no lips, but as she surveyed Remus's movements, her mouth only seemed to get thinner and tighter. She was gaunt, her cheekbones more pronounced by how tightly she had pulled her greying hair back in a bun. She greeted him with a very strong Scottish Accent. Not one for idle talk, Remus got straight to the point, 'Are you going to suspend Harry?'
'Not this time, Mr. Lupin,' She replied harshly.
Remus sighed in relief.
'But I do need to speak about Harry's behaviour the past few days. Now, don't get me wrong, Mr. Lupin, Harry is a good child. He does well in class, gets along with all his classmates, and always submits his work on time; but…' She sighed heavily. 'He seems to have trouble following him wherever he goes. As guardians, I know you and Mr. Black try your best, but someone needs to tell Harry that it is not all right to dye your teacher's hair blue!'
Remus turned towards Ms. Periwinkle, only just noticing that the tips of her otherwise blond hair were indeed, blue. He had initially thought they were a part of her dress shirt. He thought they looked rather fetching on her and he told her so. 'They look like they've been dipped in the ocean,' he described, admiring the gradation of colour in a strand between his fingers. Already, his mind was filling up with ideas for his next artwork.
'T-Thank you,' Ms. Periwinkle stuttered, her face changing to an unattractive shade of red. It made her freckles stand out and unlike with Sirius, Remus did not feel the urge to trace them with his fingers.
'Mr. Lupin, I will ask you to refrain from flirting with my staff!' McGonagall scolded, startling Remus out of his muse.
Flirt [flurt]:to court triflingly
Remus blinked. He did not know admiring the colour of another's hair could be considered flirting. Remus carefully filed that away in the back of his mind for future use. Remus thought Sirius looked quite lovely when he blushed. 'I apologise,' Remus said, moving away. 'Is that all Harry did? It seems rather silly to suspend Harry for such admirable artwork. He is usually not very good with paints at home.'
Harry giggled as McGonagall's jaw dropped open. 'Mr. Lupin, I would have been absolutely appalled at your lack of concern if I did not actually have more complaints against Harry. Honestly, when I met Sirius Black, I was astonished at how Harry could be so much of a troublemaker with such a kind and responsible parent. I can see now that it is all your influence,' she scolded, making Remus feel rather horrible. He had never been scolded before and he found himself looking at his shoes, a feeling of extreme upset settling in his stomach. 'Do you know, Mr. Lupin, that Harry hit one of his classmates today?'
'Only because he was pushing me!' Harry spoke up angrily. 'Moony, I only hit him because he was being mean and he said really horrible things in class!' He climbed out of his chair and stood in front of Remus, his bright green eyes flashing with indignation. 'The teacher told us to write about our mummies and when I wrote about you, Malfoy said that I was stupid because I didn't even know what a mummy was! He said I was an orp-orph-orphan!' He held Remus's good hand tightly with both of his. 'That's not true, is it, Moony?'
Orphan [awr-fuh n]: a child who has lost both parents through death.
Remus shook his head. 'You have Sirius,' he gave as explanation to his answer. Dimly, Remus realised he was an orphan; the thought settled like lead in his stomach and made him suddenly feel very, very sad. Remus had never thought of himself as an orphan before this and while he was under no delusions of his father being alive, suddenly he missed John Lupin terribly.
Harry nodded enthusiastically, his hold on Remus getting tighter. 'Padfoot is my daddy and mummies are people who love daddies, and live with them, and feed the children, and clean the house, and give hugs when we come back home. So that makes you my mummy, doesn't it, Moony?'
Remus did love Sirius. They were also currently sharing a residence. Remus did not clean the house very much as Mrs. Poppins usually took care of such household chores. He did, however, give Harry frequent hugs and offer to feed him when Sirius felt too tired from work to chase after Harry in the evenings. While this did not compute in his internal dictionary, Remus supposed that following Harry logical train of thought, he was Harry's mummy. And if the question was being asked by Harry then it was only logical to follow Harry's theory of motherhood rather than that of a book (no matter how prestigious the Oxford Dictionary was). So Remus answered quite simply, 'Yes.'
'Mr. Lupin!' McGonagall, who had been surprisingly quiet through Harry's impassioned speech, suddenly banged her desk as she spoke up. 'While I understand that Harry was treated unfairly by his classmate and that this is a sensitive topic, this is not how I would expect you to handle the situation! Do not get me wrong, I am not being prejudiced, but I simply cannot allow pushing such ridiculous ideas into a child's mind!'
'Ridiculous ideas are what make beautiful stories,' Remus replied calmly, as he allowed Harry to climb into his lap. 'You should not disregard it.' He frowned as Harry popped a thumb into his mouth and looked upon McGonagall smugly. 'It is why the paintings in your school are ugly.'
McGonagall's mouth did a rather shining impression of a fish as she turned steadily red. Remus was starting to dislike her quite a bit and was getting a little bit bored by this meeting. He had only come to rescue Harry from being suspended but now that he looked closely, there was very little in this building that could be used to suspend a child. There was a coat hanger in the corner of the office, but Remus could tell from past experiences that Harry found being strung from coat hangers rather enjoyable. The phone call had clearly been an empty threat.
'May I interrupt, Headmistress,' Ms. Periwinkle said, looking at them with kind eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered a little when turned towards Remus; perhaps she had gotten dust in her eyes? 'Perhaps Mr. Lupin and Harry do not have the wrong idea.' She wet her lips nervously and pressed on, 'Families are dynamic and flexible; and what better way to teach tolerance to the children than to introduce them to Harry's…er…mummy?' She blushed brightly as Remus sent her a beaming smile. 'I understand that Harry's actions are inexcusable but I think if we don't address the issue today, it's only likely to escalate, don't you think?'
Ms. Periwinkle, Remus thought, was as lovely as her hair.
And it was because of her that Remus found himself, for the first time, in a classroom, balancing a quarter of his buttocks on a rather small chair. He had children, all as small as Harry, surrounding him and watching him with curious eyes as Ms. Periwinkle introduced him as Mr. Lupin, Harry's parent. She asked everyone to treat him nicely and to ask questions if they had any. Harry seemed much happier now and was no longer sucking his thumb in distress, as he perched on Remus's shoulders and rested his head on the crown of Remus's own. Normally, Harry liked being carried like how Remus often carried his paint supplies in his arms; but this was impossible with a broken arm.
Harry had also pointed out Malfoy, a child with platinum blond hair and a very sour look on his face. Unlike the other children, Malfoy did not show much interest in Remus or Harry and chose to sit at the far end of the classroom. Remus thought of the best glaring face he had learned and then shot it towards the other child, who, in fright, looked down quickly. It made Harry laugh so Remus did it two more times, deciding that it was rather fun.
Funny [fuhn-ee]: causing amusement or laughter.
'What happened to your arm?'
'I broke it,' Remus replied to the girl with bushy hair and rather large front teeth.
'She's Hermione,' Harry whispered. 'She has a cat.'
'Ah,' Remus remembered Crookshanks. He also remembered Harry telling him that Ron thought Hermione was a bossy, know-it-all; and that girls were yucky anyway.
'Did you break it while fighting ninjas like Harry said?' another child asked. He was very ginger. He was wearing an orange jumper that clashed horribly with his hair. His description sounded very much like Ronald Weasley, Harry's best friend. Sirius often complained about Ronald's mother and called her 'an insufferable baby making machine who could stuff her opinions up the fat arse of whatever ginger God she worshipped because he was going to raise his Godson the way he fucking wanted, damn it!'. Remus thought it was prudent not to mention this to Ronald. The word "fucking", Mrs. Poppins taught him, was not something that you said in front of children.
Rude [rood]: discourteous or impolite.
'Moony can not only fight ninjas, he can also fight fire with his bare hands!' Harry boasted, articulating this by waving his pudgy hands around. 'He has an ocean in his backyard and he lets me paint on the walls!'
Codswallop [kodz-wol-uhp]: nonsense; rubbish.
All the children simultaneously went 'ooooooohhh', except for Hermione who looked rather disbelieving. 'So are you really Harry's mother?' she asked, pushing her hair haughtily off her shoulders. 'Because you can only be Harry's mother if you're married to Harry's father; and I don't see a ring on your hand.' She said this with a very knowledgeable nod; an action that made Ronald Weasley huff and say something quite unflattering under his breath.
'Moony is marrying Padfoot,' Harry replied, puffing up his chest proudly. Ms. Periwinkle giggled on the side but did not say anything as the rest of the children nodded understandingly. 'Aren't you, Moony?'
'Yes,' Remus confirmed. 'I will marry Padfoot.'
'Don't sleep on that side; you'll damage your arm further,' Sirius chided gently, turning Remus by the shoulder onto his back. 'Keep it still, that's good,' Sirius guided both of Remus's arms to his sides, snuggly fitting into the straight planes of his body. Remus was not complaining. He found he did not have the sufficient concentration to complain as he was largely busy rejoicing the fact that Sirius was sitting on his bed. Sirius had not visited Remus's bed since that night when they had had sex together. Even considering the fact that Remus had been in the hospital for a while, Sirius had not come to Remus's bed for eight days, four hours, twenty two minutes, and seventy nine point o eight seconds.
Distressed [dih-strest]: great pain, anxiety, or sorrow.
Remus had been worried that he had warded Sirius off his vicinity with his bad sex. It had not quite been his fault; Remus had not been entirely educated in the mechanics of sex with other men. Remus's only experience had been with women (woman) and that had not been very enjoyable. When Remus had been writing his third installment in his book series, he had written the character of Dorothy, the dragon who had escaped its asylum and was now terrorising the peaceful village or Hogsmeade, based on his former wife. He did not think it had been obvious, but he had received a call from her shortly after the book had been published, thanking him profusely for the mention.
'Harry told me about what you did today,' Sirius said softly as he lay beside Remus, his legs folding and then unfolding to tuck themselves inside the covers. 'Thank you.' One of his hands rose to Remus's cheek, his thumb sweeping back and forth against a scar Remus had garnered himself in the recent course of events. It felt lovely; ticklish and a little bit tingly.
'They were going to suspend Harry, so I saved him,' Remus explained, hoping that Sirius would consider Remus rather heroic for doing something so selfless. He purposely did not mention that the threats of suspension had been rather empty.
Sirius laughed. 'Harry had been in a fair bit of trouble since he joined school. I wish I could say that I don't know where he gets it from, but that would be like the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn't it.' Remus nodded, though he never quite understood such a term; the pots in his house were silver. 'But he's not a bad chap, you know; and this really isn't the first time he's gotten bullied for not having a mum or a real dad. It's gotten more and more difficult to deal with these situations as he's gotten older, so…' Sirius moved forward to press a soft kiss against Remus's forehead. 'So thank you for standing up for him. Thank you for agreeing to go into his class today. Harry wouldn't stop talking about it all through bed time; he was really excited and happy that you came today.'
Remus blinked, unsure of what to say. He did not think what he did warranted a thank you, but did not want to dismiss Sirius's affection after having waited for eight days, four hours, thirty minutes, and fifty one point sixty six seconds. Instead he scooted closer so that he and Sirius were nose to nose and their toes brushed underneath the sheets. 'You have nice hair,' he tried to flirt, remembering McGonagall's words today and hoping it would work as well on Sirius as it did on Ms. Periwinkle. It did not. Sirius did not blush at all. So Remus disregarded the flirting and simply asked for what he wanted, 'Will you kiss me?' He hoped that Sirius would not say no.
Sirius laughed; the arm on his cheek moving to the nape of Remus's neck as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Remus's. Remus was not a man to quantify moments since they were not the most tangible sources of information; however, if he were to choose, he would definitely choose this very moment as the best moment of his life. He paid attention to every detail; the warmth of Sirius's lips and the rough texture against his own as it sucked Remus's bottom lip in slow strokes. Remus mapped the path of Sirius's hands as the right tangled into Remus's hair and insistently pulled him closer. Sirius left hand stroked the cast of Remus's broken arm first, before coiling around Remus's waist and pressing the flat of his palm against the small of Remus's back.
Kiss [kis]: to express a thought, feeling, etc., by a contact of the lips.
'It's weird,' Sirius whispered as he parted and rested his forehead against Remus's. 'It's weird how I'm not scared of this anymore…' Remus felt his heart sink.
'Am I scary?' Sirius shook his head. 'No. It was me who was scared, of everything really. I've just been trying so hard to protect myself and Harry that I forgot what it was like to rely on and trust somebody.' He kissed Remus chastely on the mouth again. 'Thank you again; I feel like I'm going to be saying this a lot tonight. But I really am very happy today; I really, really am.' He kissed Remus for a little longer, his tongue peeking through to caress Remus's lips.
'Will we,' Remus started, swallowing slightly as he stared into Sirius's darkening grey eyes, 'Will we have sex tonight?' he asked nervously, hoping very much that Sirius would not say no. 'I won't be as bad as last time; I've read through several books and I have the last experience to learn from, but please do not be repulsed by me. I'm certainly better than Dorothy, the dragon, and-mph!' Remus was cut from his horribly punctuated run on sentence by Sirius's hand clamping over his mouth.
'You know, I don't think I've ever heard you speak this fast,' Sirius chuckled, still not unleashing his hold on Remus's poor mouth. 'Am I making you nervous, Remus Lupin?'
Remus shook his head and tried to say, 'No, you are making me horny.'
But the message never passed on to Sirius even as his hand moved away from Remus's mouth and occupied itself with the drawstrings of Remus's pyjama bottoms. Sirius shot one look outside into the hall before pulling the bed curtains closed and giving Remus a wicked grin. The last thing Remus saw was Sirius's head disappearing underneath the sheets before intense pleasure engulfed him and forced his eyes shut.
Ecstasy [ek-stuh-see]: a state of altered consciousness in which a person is unaware of his surrounding but focuses on a well-defined object or emotion that makes him unable to perceive other objects.
Has it really been that long? I feel like I've been writing this chapter for ages, maybe because it's the longest one I've written so far. Remus's emotions were a lot more complicated here and I really wanted to do justice to his character. Also, please excuse any errors, I've only proofread this once because I was so excited to get it up. I'll be looking through it again and fixing things later. So here's hoping you enjoyed it.
Also, this chapter is dedicated to dontgiveahoot and whiterabbit111, who probably understands Remus better than anyone else. Cheers!
Idontknow: I'm so sorry! I know it's been ages and my updates are just getting more and more tardy. But here's hoping you enjoyed this installment as its coming close to an end and I'm definitely going to finish it, so do bear with me for a while.
TooLazyToLogIn: I hope you're still reading this story and think that it's just as brilliant. I'm so glad you like my work; I do try to experiment with styles but I guess the main thing that's quite consistent with all my stories is the character development. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Just one more to go!
ali baba: Updated! Sorry for the wait.
KiaraNxiar: Your PM is disabled so hope you read this. Thanks for reviewing and hope you enjoyed the new chapter!
TheBigCats: I think I'd just go into fan girl mode if I found out I was actually living with my favourite author. Maybe squeal a little; definitely do those awkward jump/hugs that girls do when they're excited. :p Hope you liked this chapter!
whiterabbit111: There will definitely be a happy ending, rest assured, but while Remus can be described as "cute", I really did want to highlight the difficulties he and the people around him face because of his inability to comprehend a lot of things. It isn't his fault but it's not avoidable either. Hopefully, this chapter put your heart to rest even a little bit and you enjoyed it thoroughly. Thanks for reviewing!
