"Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks."

Romeo And Juliet, Act II, Scene II, Line 156.

—December 12th—

47...48...49...50

Sirius sat up with a sigh, the stress ball he'd been throwing at the ceiling still clutched in his hand. Not for the first time, he questioned why he'd come to college at all. His first final was that Friday—just 24 hours from now—and he knew he wasn't ready. The fact that this lack of preparedness stemmed from the fact that he hadn't started was a notion that he'd tried to disabuse multiple times now. The thought was pervasive though; every time he threw it from his mind it boomeranged back with such a glaring ferocity that even Sirius, the self-proclaimed 'King of Ignoring Things That Hurt,' couldn't reject it.

It wasn't his fault, not really. It was only that the anxiety surrounding the end of the semester and going home was stifling. And paralyzing. And energizing. Somehow all of those feelings seemed to swell at the same time; the tide of his mental wellness coming in high and fierce and overpowering to the point where he was swept away in it, and couldn't focus on anything of importance. No, instead he'd itemized his sock drawer. Built a small bookshelf addition for his and Remus' dorm. Monopolized the kitchenette down the hall to bake 48 decoratively iced cupcakes for no one in particular. Stolen (borrowed, Frank and John had reminded him) a vacuum and cleaned the entire common space.

Remus had watched his roommate cautiously, an unamused smile painted onto his face as he'd occasionally glanced up from his books or computer. He'd never seen this sort of frenetic energy from his roommate before, and by the time Sirius showed up with his hair in french braids, a frilly apron tied tightly around his waist, and enough cupcakes to feed an entire lecture hall, well...Remus wasn't sure whether to document it for future blackmail purposes or call the health center to report a concern about a fellow student. He knew Sirius had exams, but despite being holed up in the dorm for almost 120 hours due to a freak snow storm, Remus hadn't seen his roommate touch anything even remotely academic. By the time Thursday had rolled around, Remus was starting to get irritated—Sirius may not have picked up a textbook in the last week, but he'd served as a distraction in more ways than one. Case in point, Remus' roommate had been pacing the length of their dorm while squeezing a stress ball and quietly mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like Shakespeare under his breath for the better part of an hour now.

After dodging the third wad of paper tossed at him from across the breach, Sirius sighed dramatically and flopped onto his bed in a conciliatory response to Remus' growing irritation.

"We've got a common space, y'know. You could study there," Sirius said nonchalantly.

Remus sent a glare towards his roommate. "Forgive me for interrupting your Shakespearean Theatre Hour with my desire to study unimpeded in my own dorm, Star Boy."

Sirius rolled his eyes at the epithet, given a month earlier when Remus had gotten sick of the fact that his roommate didn't have an equally stupid nickname as his own. "Mmm, good word choice there, Rem. You really are a creative writing student, aren't you?"

Sirius' retort was met with an eye-roll and quiet huff as Remus sat up properly and started gathering his notes from where they were scattered across his bedding. Sirius sat up suddenly, ball still in hand, and rotated his torso to face his roommate in a panic.

"I swear I'll be quieter, you don't need to leave, I'm sorry, I promise I'll shut up, I swear I'll let you work in peace and quiet," the words tumbled out of Sirius' mouth almost frantically, like popcorn itching to burst from his throat.

Remus climbed down from his bed and gave Sirius a searching look that was just long enough to make him squirm before the taller boy averted his eyes and sighed. "I'm not angry, you're just...right. There's a room just past that doorway, and as much as I appreciate your company, I'm not getting nearly enough done while being distracted by you—no offense," he finished with a blush.

Sirius' face blanched, and Remus saw his roommate's grip on his stress ball tighten. "Oh. Yeah. Of course," Sirius stated tightly. Remus forced himself to avoid glancing toward his friend, knowing that his resolve in leaving would evaporate if he saw the look on Sirius' face.

"I'll just be on the couch, alright? It's not like I'm trekking to the library or something," Remus started as he walked to the door. "Let me know if you need anything, 'kay?"

Sirius let out a mumble of affirmation as Remus disappeared behind the door before falling back onto his bed with a sigh.

Sirius Black was nothing if not chaotic. He always had been, even when he was young—full of sound and fury and all the other things that adult life tends to beat out of children. So it came as no surprise to him, or those close to him, that said chaos extended to all areas of his life. He'd always enjoyed living just barely on the edge—not usually to dangerous extremes, although the broken collarbone he'd had at age 16 might have argued otherwise—testing the boundaries around him. Despite his habit of testing the patience of others, Sirius was rather widely well-liked.

The history teacher at his boarding school, a woman well known for her harsh scowl and severe demeanor, had taken to Sirius after he'd shown up late to class one day in the nearest approximation of renaissance attire that he could muster, proclaiming the wonders of Da Vinci's works. Any other teacher would've thrown him out, but Minerva McGonagall had simply rolled her eyes and continued her lesson with a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Sirius quickly became a favorite student of hers, especially after she'd discovered that the boy wanted to become an educator himself. After teaching him for four years, she'd discovered that there was a certain sensitivity to him that was often masked by the charming persona he erected in front of his classmates and teachers, one that she had no doubt developed as a result of being an older brother.

Every so often, when the boy would drop into her office during lunch to discuss current events, college plans, or even just the weather, she'd see it: a glimpse behind the curtain. He'd slouch against the chair and for a moment would seem less like the charismatic class president, and more like her nephew, exhausted from the weight of the expectations that rested on his shoulders. She taught some of his cousins a few years back, she knew he didn't have the easiest family situation. But he showed up every day with a smile and with excitement to see his classmates, and despite his constant claims to her that Regulus was the better of the two children, she saw many of the qualities that Sirius lauded in his brother in Sirius himself.

Which is how she knew he'd be fine at college. His seemingly untamed energy would channel itself into enthusiasm for his students, and his personality would leave him with friendships that would help him shake off some of the familial pressure he'd been held under. This didn't mean Minerva McGonagall was happy to see him go. She'd grown fond of him, she'd realized on the morning of graduation. For someone who could be such a loose cannon, Sirius had a good heart, and she'd miss their lunchtime chats and his boisterous energy in class. So she'd made him swear to email her updates on how school was going.

But it had been three weeks since she'd heard from him last—the longest lapse in communication between the boy and his former teacher since he'd left for school. Minerva wasn't entirely sure she was entitled to the feeling, but she worried about Sirius. She knew finals were approaching, if they weren't already upon him. She knew that no one in his family was inclined to have checked in on his wellbeing. And she knew most of all that he was facing a return to his house for a month, one that didn't have his brother in it for the first time in his life. So yes, she supposed, she had plenty of perfectly rational, legitimate reasons to be concerned about the boy.

She picked up the phone.

Remus Lupin was nothing if not organized. After being given the instructions for his final written project back in October, he'd immediately begun outlining plots and brainstorming characters before settling on a family of four, all of whom were spies. He'd done his research, taking notes during his and Matt's movie dates whenever they watched a spy-thriller, and along the way drafted a few copies of the story, leaving just one scene unfinished. Which is how he'd found himself puzzling over his journal for the last week, wads of printer paper appearing every ten minutes or so as he tried to approach the dialogue from a new angle. If nothing else, he'd muttered to himself, I've discovered that I'm shit at writing about espionage.

Sirius wasn't helping things either. Every time Remus would feel himself getting stuck in a rut or hitting a wall, he'd switch to studying for one of his other classes' exams—a study habit he'd always found useful in high school. Except in high school, he'd had relative privacy while studying—barring a few semesters of being in the hospital, with Juliana, or both. Regardless, he hadn't ever had one Sirius Black to reckon with, or anyone nearly as distracting.

Remus' roommate had been absolutely insufferable for the last week. An unexpected blizzard had blown in, leaving the boys sequestered in their dorm for most of the week, with few-to-no excursions out into the cold—and if so, only for the absolute necessities. Sirius had taken advantage of the time stuck indoors by diving headfirst into seemingly every untapped project that he'd come up with throughout the semester. First it was the baking. Then the cleaning. Then the building—Remus still wasn't quite sure where Sirius had acquired the wood for a bookshelf, or the power tools, but he wasn't complaining. It was exhausting to watch, and wholly distracting as Remus was trying to write his story. By the time Sirius had moved to pacing, reciting Shakespearean monologues under his breath, and bouncing a stress ball off of the wall, Remus was thoroughly unfocused. So he'd moved out to the common area to work, not daring to look Sirius in the eye as he left their room.

About twenty minutes in, Remus began to hear suspicious noises come from their dorm. First it was snippets of soundtracks and movies, which he was able to ignore. But by the time it had escalated to crashing noises it had taken every ounce of his self-restraint not to march in and tell Sirius off. He settled for a shouted, "Sirius what the fuck are you doing in there?" instead, and the noises quieted significantly after that. So when his phone rang 90 minutes into his drafting session, Remus scowled before picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Justin from the front desk—I have someone looking for your roommate on line one. I tried his number, but he didn't answer. Is he with you, by chance?"

Remus frowned. "Uh...Last I checked, he was in our dorm. Hold on a minute, I'll see if he's still in there."

"Thanks man," the voice on the other end of the line said with a relieved sigh.

"Yeah, no problem."

Remus walked back into his dorm, expecting to see Sirius engrossed in some other pet project of his, but was instead surprised to find his roommate passed out on his bed. The stress ball was resting just beyond Sirius' fingers, and Remus smiled gently at the idea of Sirius' exhaustion finally taking over before he walked back out to the common area and picked up the phone.

"Justin? Just checked—he's here all right, but he's asleep and I don't really want to wake him up if I can help it. Can I take a message?"

The boy on the other hand began stumbling through an explanation. "I mean if she wasn't calling the front desk, I would say yes, but because she did it's protocol for us to have the intended recipient answer the desk phone if the caller didn't answer their own phone in order to make sure the message gets to the right person and—"

Remus sighed and cut the desk manager off. "No no, I get it. What if…" he trailed off. He'd been considering going down to the desk himself but was now rethinking the idea as the thought of the multiple flights of stairs swam to the forefront of his mind. "What if you give her my number? I assume this isn't a family member, I'm really happy to take the call and pass on whatever she has to say to him."

"That's not quite how this is supposed to work…" The other boy offered nervously.

"We've got FERPA, right? So you can't pass on my number unless I consent to it. This is me, Remus Lupin, Student ID: 91820716, authorizing you, Justin—I don't actually know your last name?"

"Finch-Fletchley"

"Alright, authorizing you, Justin Finch-Fletchley, to pass on my phone number to whoever this caller is. Is that enough consent for it to work?"

"Uhm...I guess it can be, yeah. Her name is Minerva, by the way. She'll probably call you after we get off the phone, she seemed…very anxious to talk to your roommate."

Remus stiffened. He'd heard stories about a "Minnie" that Sirius had loved while at high school, was this her?

"Hm. Thanks for that."

Remus hung up, staring at his phone dumbly for a moment after the call ended. What was he thinking, offering to take this call? The last time someone had called the school to look for Sirius, they'd told him his brother was dead—how was he going to deliver that kind of news if Minerva said it? Before he could work himself up much more about what he'd gotten himself into, his phone rang. Taking a deep breath and sitting back down at the table, he answered the call.

Sirius wasn't nearly as asleep as he wanted to be when he heard the door to the dorm creak open quietly. Remus tiptoed in, trying his hardest not to wake his roommate, but was thwarted within seconds as he ran into the chair that Sirius had left in the middle of their open area and fell down.

"Fuck! "

Sirius' eyes shot open.

"Remus?"

The boy in question groaned from where he'd fallen on the floor. "Go back to sleep, Sirius."

Sirius flicked on the lamp behind his head and sat up. "No point in that, I'm up now. You okay?"

Remus rubbed his wrist gently from the floor, looking up at Sirius with a strange expression before nodding and standing up with a slight wince. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Sirius rolled his eyes, then glanced over to the chair and flushed. "Sorry about leaving that there, I should've pushed it back in before I fell asleep."

"Honestly, it's fine. I'm old enough to know better than to walk aimlessly around a dark room without feeling around to figure out if things are in my way," Remus said quietly.

The two were silent for a moment. Sirius' lamp illuminated the room in a way that made Remus feel like he'd stumbled into a detective's office from the 1940s, and he suddenly wished that he had better words, kinder words for what the conversation he was about to begin.

"I just got off the phone with someone," he started.

"Did you now?" Sirius smirked lazily, "late night tryst with Matthew, was it?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "No, you dork. It was someone who'd called looking for you, actually."

Sirius froze. From his bed across the room, Remus could see the tension in his roommate's posture when he responded, and winced internally as he thought about the memories that might resurface when Sirius thought about people calling the school looking for him.

"Oh? Who was it? What did they want?" he queried tightly, looking at a point just to the left of Remus' shoulder.

"It was your old teacher, Professor McGonagall—she insisted I call her by her first name while we talked, but I just couldn't do it—trying to check in on you. She mentioned something about three weeks of unreturned emails…?" Remus trailed off uncertainly and relaxed slightly as he saw some of the tension leave Sirius' shoulders.

"Minnie called?" Sirius said incredulously.

Remus nodded, leaning his head against the wall. "Like I said, something about missed emails and how you used to talk every day? It was a very motherly conversation, all things considered."

Sirius' face lit up at that, and he sent a shy smile towards Remus. "Yeah, that would make sense. She's basically the mom I never had."

Remus, who'd been about to make a sarcastic comment about Sirius' love for his former teacher, snapped his mouth shut and stared at Sirius in surprise. He sat there for a few moments trying to figure out how to respond, before settling on "But...you have a mom?"

Sirius laughed dryly. "I mean, yes. When it comes to genetics and lineage and all that, Walburga is my mother. But nothing she did ever really extended beyond that."

Remus wasn't sure how he felt about that comment. He was familiar enough with the experience of disliking a parent, but his own emotions were rooted in anger at his father for leaving him, for leaving his mother, and Sirius' words...they weren't that. There was a resigned sadness in the way he spoke about his mother, and Remus realized with a surprise that he'd heard Sirius speak that way before. A chill ran through him as he began to piece together the patchwork of information he'd gathered about his roommate over the course of the semester.

Sirius' initial commentary about Regulus being the 'only good one' in his family after his brother died; the casual way he'd stated that his health and accomplishments were part of the family's reputation rather than being indicative of his wellbeing; the hints Minerva had dropped about what had sounded like abuse while on the phone. Something was off about the way Sirius' family treated him, but Remus wasn't sure how to begin that conversation—or if now was even the right time. Instead, he relayed more of Minerva's message with a somewhat nervous voice.

"So uh, anyway, Minerva said she hadn't heard from you in a few weeks and was worried since you've got finals coming up and you'd be heading home soon, so she asked me to check in on you."

Sirius nodded solemnly. "Guess I did drop off on the emails, didn't I? I can type one out for her tonight if I just—"

Remus cut Sirius off as his roommate reached for the laptop at the end of his bed. "No no, you're not writing an email to her right now, you have work to do."

Sirius' fingers twitched anxiously as they fell into his lap. "What do you mean?"

"Do you think I haven't noticed that you haven't started studying for any of your exams? I'm not an idiot, you know, I can tell that you're avoiding it." Remus said gently, with a smile and an arched eyebrow to soften the words. "What's the deal, Star Boy? You're usually on top of stuff like this."

Sirius sighed loudly before flopping back down onto his bed. "I've got a presentation due tomorrow."

Remus did a double take at the boy across from him and spluttered as he responded. "You—a presentation? Tomorrow? "

Sirius turned his head to look at his roommate. "Yeah, it's for my seminar class."

"Wait. This isn't the one that you told me about last month, is it? The one that's like…" Remus paused for a moment, scouring his memories for the phrasing his roommate had used, "40% of your final grade in the class?"

Sirius groaned in response.

"Have you done any of it?" Remus said weakly, unable to comprehend how Sirius couldn't have started an assignment—a presentation, no less—that was due in under 24 hours.

Sirius shook his head, eyes closed. He heard some rustling and opened one eye to see Remus pulling out a white board from behind his bed.

"What are you doing?"

Remus paused and gave Sirius a thoughtful look. "I'm helping you."

Sirius propped himself up on his elbow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Remus held out his hand. "Where are the directions? Was there a handout for the assignment or something?"

Sirius didn't respond, staring skeptically at his roommate. "You're avoiding the question."

"I'm not letting you fail out of your seminar, Sirius. You're too smart to let that happen—you love teaching, there's no reason you shouldn't pass this course."

Sirius blushed. "But why are you helping me?"

Remus sighed. "Because there's something going on with you," he started, sitting on his desk chair and uncapping a dry-erase marker. Sirius tensed from his bed before his roommate continued.

"I'm not going to make you talk about it if you don't want to, but I'm also not going to let whatever it is cause you to fail your first semester of college." Remus gestured at Sirius' desk and continued, "So where are the instructions?"

Sirius sat up fully, feeling somewhat dazed as he grabbed his laptop and opened his email.

"Prepare a 30 minute lesson on a topic within your desired field of education. Students must include at least one interactive element, a video element, and must conclude their lesson by providing and explaining a homework assignment that would accompany the material were it being presented to a class of the appropriate age demographic," Sirius read off carefully.

"There's a few checklist-type things at the bottom too, but those are just obvious sorts of things—students should have a well-rounded grasp of the material and be able to answer basic questions posed by their classmates, students should be dressed appropriately for a classroom setting—that kind of stuff."

Remus looked up from the white board, where he'd scribbled a few phrases down.

"Alright then. Let's get started."

Three hours later saw Remus lying on his back in the middle of the dorm, stomach sore from laughter.

"So you're really going to try to tell me that Boston was almost swallowed by a flood of molasses, of all things?"

Sirius nodded earnestly, but a smile was twitching at his lips. "You shouldn't be laughing, Moon Boy, people died."

Remus started giggling again, the high pitched noise echoing against the wall as he curled a hand over his stomach. "It's just...in molasses, Sirius, do you not see how funny that is? That's like someone saying their hometown had an incident 100 years back because it snowed powdered sugar and people got stuck in their houses. It seems like it should be fake but it's not and I just— "

The rest of Remus' comment was lost in his laughter, and Sirius let a proper smile come onto his face.

"'You just' need some sleep. I think you're delirious," Sirius offered up gently.

Remus started to sit up and shook his head tiredly. "No no no we need to finish, we gotta make sure everything is ready," he mumbled.

Sirius smiled kindly at Remus, who was clearly ready to fall asleep. His roommate's eyes were already half-closed again, and the hand holding up his head had marker stains up and down the palm. Three hours of reading up about Bostonian history had done a number on them both, but Sirius had been fueled by frenetic energy, while his roommate had been running on slightly less than a full-night's sleep.

"Come on. Upsy-daisy, you," Sirius said as he offered a hand to his roommate, who looked up at him in surprise from the floor. Remus took his roommate's hand and rose to his feet, stumbling into Sirius. To his credit, Sirius' heart rate only skipped for a moment before he managed to school his expression as Remus sleepily leaned against him. He shook his head, now wasn't the time to analyze that reaction. Sirius' hand tightened against Remus' waist, and he helped his roommate over to his bed. Remus climbed up slowly, and began rearranging the pillows to get comfortable.

"Hey Star Boy?"

"Hm?"

"If you do want to talk, you know I'm here?"

Sirius looked over at his roommate in awe. He was pretty sure that he'd never known someone as categorically kind as Remus was. It was 1am, the boy was half-asleep from having stayed up all night to help Sirius pass his class, and now he was lying there telling Sirius that he'd be a shoulder to cry on if he needed it. Sirius wasn't sure he deserved this sort of treatment from anyone, let alone from this doe-eyed saint of a boy.

"You don't have to say that, you know. I'm not worth your time, not like that."

Remus' eyes opened fully as he sighed into his pillow and rotated to face his roommate. "That's just not true, don't be silly."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're practically asleep, we can talk in the morning."

"I'm serious though," Remus murmured with a little giggle, and Sirius felt his heart flutter in a wholly improper way and looked away.

"Your feelings are important," Remus paused and yawned. "My mom always used to tell me that. She'd say, 'RJ, it might feel like you're in over your head, but you don't have to keep a brave face for me. Your feelings are important, they matter.' She wasn't wrong, y'know."

Sirius was silent for a minute, trying to figure out how to respond. The concept of feelings having importance was so...foreign to him. His family had never embraced emotions, and he'd learned quickly enough not to talk about them with Regulus because he didn't want to worry his brother. So he'd never really gotten much practice in talking about the way things impacted him. Sirius turned back around to face Remus again and saw that his roommate was asleep. A fond smile crept onto Sirius' face unwittingly, and he pulled a stray sheet of paper out from under Remus' arm, taking care not to wake the sleeping boy.

Sirius looked over at the mess in their dorm. Remus had stood up from the white board with an action plan, and the next three hours had been spent in various stages of organized chaos.

First, a laundry list of topics that Sirius could present on. Then, when they'd narrowed it down to the Boston Tea Party, Remus had immediately pivoted to asking Sirius how he wanted the audience to engage with the material. Did he want his classmates to put themselves in the shoes of the colonists? Or have them try to relate to the British? Once they'd finalized that portion, Remus had then pulled up a slide show and started typing absolutely ridiculous nonsense until Sirius had yelled at him to "cut that out" and taken the laptop off of his lap to fix the slides. From there it was practicing and pacing and practicing again, with Remus throwing random questions at Sirius every time the lesson had finished and Sirius glaring but answering them with a self-assurance that grew in tandem with Remus' proud smile.

Sirius began gathering the things they'd dropped around the room, tossing a couple of scrap papers into the trash, before pausing when he saw a journal with Remus' handwriting on it. He knew he shouldn't look at it, especially not after the incident they'd gone through at the beginning of the semester, but he couldn't help it. He glanced down at the sheet and took a sharp intake of breath. Remus must've been taking some absentminded notes while he spoke with Sirius' former teacher. His eyes jumped over the words on the page in alarm. Minerva. (History) Teacher? Weekly emails. No contact.

Sirius felt his heart rate rise as he saw the aimless scribble on the page break off sharply, followed by the word "abuse?" written in Remus' quasi-cursive script. Sirius' eyes blurred slightly and he carefully closed the journal before placing it on Remus' desk. That wasn't something he'd planned on talking to Remus about anytime soon, if at all. Sirius felt a bit funny, knowing that someone had suspicions about his home life. But Remus hadn't said anything about it at all, just that he was willing to talk. Sirius was again swept up with appreciation for Remus' demeanor and looked over at the sleeping boy.

In the moment, Sirius wasn't sure what it was that made him do it. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd been anxious all day and the exhaustion of running on adrenaline was setting in. Maybe his emotions were catching up to him all too quickly. Or maybe he'd read the note in Remus' journal and connected it to his roommate's actions and found himself a bit overwhelmed with gratitude. Whatever it was, Sirius suddenly found himself walking over to Remus' bed and looking down at the boy with a tender expression.

Before he could think through the actions, Sirius was pulling a blanket over his roommate to tuck him in gently, and bending down to drop a kiss on Remus' forehead—the same way he used to tuck Regulus in after he would tire out from a long day. The sleeping boy shifted and Sirius jumped back, suddenly aware of what he'd done. He didn't regret it, though, despite the slight apprehension that came in the seconds after when he thought Remus was about to wake.

Climbing onto his own bed, Sirius burrowed into his blankets and exhaled deeply before rolling over to face his roommate. Remus' hand was cradling his head under his pillow, and the contented expression on his sleeping face made Sirius' heart swell all over again. He made himself comfortable on his pillows and reached a hand up to turn off the lamp behind him before closing his eyes.

"Thanks for everything, Moon Boy," he whispered quietly before drifting off, thoughts of crooked grins and uncontrollable giggles easing him into his first proper sleep in days.