Disclaimer... Do I really have to say it again? They're not mine. I make no profit, nor do I claim to own them. There. Done.

Dedication... To Chris. Chri-jack. Heh heh heh. For understanding and making me laugh in the rain. And – when you read the chapter you'll understand – very cool parents everywhere. Especially my own.

Warning... Thought I'd better throw one in...you know...just in case someone got this far without realising that this is two men in relationshippyness! The horror! Well it is. If you don't like it then you are able to leave *points to back button* Use it wisely.

~ Chapter 4 ~

Although I woke early the next morning I forced myself to relax and take my time. I took a long cool shower, letting the water sluice over my sleep-sweated skin. As I ran my hands over my body I thought of Lucius' long hair free from its tie, falling across my skin. I had to turn the water ice cold to rid myself of my body's reaction to the thoughts.

I trawled through my meagre selection of muggle clothing, feeling for all the world like a muggle woman shrieking 'I have nothing to wear!', before pulling on a pair of battered black jeans and another faded black T-shirt. My mother raised an eyebrow at my finally making it down to breakfast for the first time in the holidays. My father stayed behind the Daily Prophet.

"Morning Remus." I grinned at his calm reaction.

After eating I disappeared into the library. It was my favourite room and I knew if I could get into a good book, the hours until I met Lucius would melt past. I toed off my boots and had just lay back across one of the leather sofas, book propped up on a pillow on my stomach, when my mother came in and closed the door. I knew immediately that she wanted to talk. I swung my legs round and sat up, watching her expectantly as she rearranged some papers on the desk. She was nervous. I could sense it. It made me nervous too.

After a few minutes I finally became fed up of her anxiousness.

"Mum." She turned to face me. "What is it?" As though my words had snapped her from her indecision she began.

"You seem a lot happier over the last week or so." I knew she and my father had noticed my pain, but had left me to approach them, something I was thankful for. I nodded, not agreeing with her, more acknowledging what she had said. "I know life can't be easy for you, with your transformations, keeping secrets from people, but you know you can talk to me about anything yes?" I nodded again, wondering if these were just general platitudes or if it was leading somewhere. "People can be cruel sometimes, and when you fall in love for the first time it always seems like nothing will ever feel the same again." I groaned inwardly. The last thing I wanted was a 'plenty more fish in the sea' conversation with my mother. "I think I just wanted to say to you that this boy who broke your heart has missed out on the greatest partner he could ever find and it's his loss."

I was speechless. Had my own mother just said what I thought she had? I stammered, caught between denial and asking her how she knew. She smiled at me and came over to sit on the sofa, taking my hand and stroking it in a gesture I remembered from when I was younger, the morning after the full moon.

"So shocked Re?" She used her and my father's nickname for me. "Some mother I would be if I didn't know my own son was gay." She laughed. "And every holiday it was 'Sirius this, Sirius that.' Then this holiday there was nothing, with you in bed all day and in the pub all night. I'm not blind."

I was amazed. I could not make any words come from my lips. I had an urge to deny it all, but this was my mother and I had always known I would have to tell her one day. I had never guessed she might already know. Relief and love swept over me. None my friends knew of my sexuality so I had not been able to admit my feelings to anyone. Then here, right under my nose, was someone who not only knew, but also understood and loved me. I leaned in and hugged her, trying to wordlessly express my gratitude. I knew she understood.

"Thank you." I whispered. I felt her smile against my cheek. She pulled away and wiped from her eyes the few tears that had pooled there. She grinned at me.

"Well, maybe now we can go shopping together. We could buy some mauve paint for your room!" I burst out laughing involuntarily at her joke. It was great to hear her laugh mingling with mine. It should never have surprised me that this amazing woman, who had been there through my life, dealing with my Lycanthropy, could also easily deal with anything else life threw at her.

A thought occurred to me. "Does Dad know?" Although my father was very accepting, I somehow cringed at the idea of him knowing his son was gay.

"No." My mother said, patting my hand again. "I think he does on some level, but being a man he can't put two and two together. When you choose to tell him though, he will be fine. I nodded, mollified. We were both silent for a moment with our own thoughts before my mother continued. "So." She paused. I looked at her. "Who is he?" I blinked and she grinned at my shock. "This boy who has you getting out of bed in time for breakfast and has you whistling as you get ready for the pub."

I threw back my head and laughed. I, someone who lived magic every day of my life, had scoffed at the idea of a Mother's 6th sense, yet here it was in all its glory. My mirth finally died down and as I hugged her again and lied. "No one you know."

*

I left the house at 11.45, my spirits soaring, content in the knowledge that no matter what, there was someone who understood and loved me. I was on top of the world.