A University!AU

Love

(noun) an intense feeling of deep affection.

(verb) feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to (someone).

Dear Professor Padfoot,

How do I start a letter? You would think, after writing countless recommendation letters for my students, I'd know how to write one…but recommendation letters are different.

So I guess I'll just start with hi.

Normally, this is where I would introduce myself, but since these letters are meant to be anonymous, I can't give you any obvious clues about my identity.

Since I can't resist, and Dumbledore is forcing me to participate in this exchange, I'll give you one: chocolate.

Do I love it or hate it? You'll have to guess.

Regards,

Professor Moony

"Someone stole my garlic bread," Remus complained, poking at his limp spaghetti that looked more like discolored worms than pasta. "I got it from that amazing pizza place across town, and I was planning to save it for today — but someone stole it."

"That's rough, mate," James said sympathetically. "Lily in Chemistry makes excellent breadsticks — give her a ring and she'll bring them by."

"But my expensive garlic bread…" Remus pouted mournfully. "The only thing I was looking forward to today."

James nodded and then frowned. "Hey, wait a min—"

The door swung open that instant and James's hand immediately jumped to his hair — it was Lily in Chemistry, devoid of her trademark lab coat and the outline of a pair of safety goggles etched around her eyes.

"Hey, James. Hey, Remus." Throwing a glowing smile at James, she walked past them into the back room to retrieve her lunch and Remus nudged James.

"Looks like there's some chemistry between you two," he teased.

"Oh, shut up." James's face was redder than Remus's spaghetti. "Like you don't fancy anyone who works here."

And at that precise moment, the subject of James's accusation walked in wearing a pair of sunglasses that are low on his nose and holding a frappucino.

"Hey," Sirius Black of the Theatre department said, flashing a devastatingly handsome smile at Remus. "Did Lily just come in?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" James was the one to ask because Remus suddenly felt like his throat was closing up.

"Because James's face is redder than Slughorn's after a nice night in," Sirius said, smirking and pushing his sunglasses back into place on his nose.

"What — I — I don't like her like that? Why — "

"Because you two have obvious chemistry, that's why," Sirius pointed out placidly. "You're so whipped, Potter. All she has to do is smile at you and you'd do anything she wanted."

"I — that's not true!" James spluttered as Sirius stood there, still grinning, and Remus broke out of his Sirius-induced stupor to howl with laughter.

"What's not true?"

Lily had returned and three pairs of eyes swiveled in her direction.

"Nothing," said Sirius innocently; he was the only one out of the three of them who was fully composed. James was muttering death threats under his breath and Remus was avoiding everyone's eyes.

"...Alright, then," said Lily, glancing first at Remus and then at James. "Are you okay, James? You look a bit flushed."

"Just a little warm in here, that's all," James said. He shot a sly look at Remus, who was abruptly very interested in his pasta.

"That's good," Lily said. "I've got tickets to a football match this weekend, my mate's boyfriend hooked me up with some pretty good seats, and I was wondering if you'd like to come."

James's eyes widened and he practically wet himself trying to find the words to answer. "Sure, I — is it like a friend thing, or —?"

"Sort of," said Lily, shrugging. "If you count Mary and her boyfriend as friends, then yeah. But their seats are away from…" her eyes lingered meaningfully on James's face, "...ours."

Poor James was having an internal meltdown as he tried to contain his (very clear) ecstasy. "Yeah, I'd — I'd love to come."

"Awesome!" Lily beamed. "I'll swing by your place to pick you up, yeah? Wear something warm, it's going to be a chilly day."

"Y-Yeah, okay."

"Hey Lily, why didn't you offer us any tickets?" Sirius chimed in, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Way to make us feel included."

"I had only one extra ticket, Black," she replied without missing a beat. "And…" she glanced shyly at James, "...I wanted to spend some time with one of my colleagues. You know, as friends."

Translation: she wanted to know if he was boyfriend material.

"Whatever you say, Evans," Sirius said and let the subject drop, his objective satisfied. Lily breezed past him and out the door, her lunch bag swinging in her hand.

"Well done," Remus said, grinning broadly, his Sirius-itis gone momentarily in favor of happiness for his friend. "You finally snagged a date with your dream girl."

"Yeah, you've had an ion her for quite some time now," Sirius said, smirk making another appearance.

"Oh, shut up."

Dear Professor Moony,

I'd wager that you love chocolate. You bathe in a pool of chocolate, consume chocolate for your every meal, and you kiss chocolate every night before you go to bed.

I'm not good at this whole letter-writing business either — honestly, I'm not an English teacher. What the hell was Dumbledore thinking, trusting me with pen and paper? I only speak the language creativity.

Oops, seems like I gave away a little too much, but at least I didn't give you anything very obvious, right?

And seriously, who uses "Regards" anymore?

Professor Padfoot

"Where's Sirius? He ought to be here by now," Lily fretted, checking her watch for the hundredth time that afternoon. "He's always late, I swear —"

"To be fair, we were all late to this meeting," Remus pointed out.

"But the person who called the meeting should be on time."

The door banged open and Sirius leisurely strolled in, one hand tucked casually in his pocket and a frappe in his other hand — honestly, when did he not have some caffeinated beverage on his person?

"I'll ignore that some of you are late... if you ignore that I'm the latest."

"Sirius, are you —"

"— serious? I always am, Evans, you know me," he said with a roguish wink, and Remus's stomach churned. Not unpleasantly, though.

"Now, for why I called this meeting…"

Professor Padfoot,

I do love chocolate. However, you are truly awful at writing letters. Are you not familiar with the etiquette for writing them? Clearly not. I won't be wasting my time helping you learn. I suppose that's why you're not an English teacher — thanks for letting me rule that out.

You don't speak like a scientist either, so I'm ruling out the science department. Judging from your theatrics, I'm assuming you are someone in the Arts department, though that only narrows it down a little.

Since I've made this deduction about your identity, it's only fair that I give you another clue. I love garlic bread.

Regards,

Professor Moony

Professor Moony,

Sherlock much? Though I must say, you're pretty damn good at deducting or deducing or whatever it is. I am in the Arts department, but I won't tell which branch, though you kind of guessed it in your previous letter.

Judging from the way you write, I'm guessing you're well-versed in English, so I'm going to say that you're an English teacher. Or at least some version of that.

I love garlic bread, Mr. Moony. You have excellent taste.

Stop using "Regards"! It's too formal!

Professor Padfoot

Remus stared at the letter in his hands. The lamplight flickered and danced on the corner of the wrinkled paper as he mulled over the writer's words.

I am in the Arts department, but I won't tell which branch, though you kind of guessed it in your previous letter.

That had been exceptional guesswork on his end and his penpal's letter narrowed his search criteria even further. He was a Theatre teacher so that reduced it to only five teachers.

Sirius was one of them. His heart let out a feeble cry of hope.

How to respond, how to respond...

Professor Padfoot,

At your urging, I have decided to comply with your demand and no longer use "Regards" when signing off. You're welcome.

I'm also astonished by your precision; you have correctly guessed that I am in the English department, but I will not reveal the branch I teach. I, unlike you, am careful about what information I disclose.

That being said, I am giving you another clue: my best mate is dating a teacher at this university. You may or may not know them.

Professor Moony

This Professor Moony character was frustratingly vague, and Sirius usually had no trouble figuring out his characters until this one.

...my best mate is dating a teacher at this university. You may or may not know them.

There was a lot of interdepartmental dating, so his letter gave away nothing. Sighing, Sirius folded the letter into a square and put in his private drawer, where none of his students would find it because he had not given them the access code for this particular drawer. This drawer contained all of his letters from Professor Moony, as well as anything he wished to keep away from his prying students.

He had a free period and it was almost lunchtime, so he headed to the teachers' lounge. There, he found three of his coworkers already eating: Lily, James, and Remus.

Remus smiled warmly at him as he entered and Sirius almost lost his balance, but years of acting had taught him how to recover smoothly.

See, there was Professor Moony, and then there was Remus Lupin, the other person who baffled and fascinated him in equal measure. He had never met someone so closed off, someone so mysterious, and yet he wore his heart on his sleeve. Remus never hid much, but Sirius didn't know much about him.

It didn't help that Remus was unfairly adorable in his cardigans and scarves; he looked like a picture-perfect English teacher, someone who looked like he was a good cuddler.

Sirius went to the backroom, grabbed his lunch, and returned to the lounge. Remus was just finishing his lunch and stood up as Sirius walked in.

"Here, take my seat," he offered, and Sirius had the inexplicable desire to hug him, but miraculously resisted. "I'm done anyway, about to head back to class."

And he left before Sirius could say a word, a thank you or I want to hug you and never let go.

James swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and stood up too. "Coming?" he asked Lily, gazing at her with adoring eyes. Sirius abruptly remembered a certain sentence from his penpal's letter.

...my best mate is dating a teacher at this university. You may or may not know them.

Could it be…? No, it couldn't be. His penpal hadn't specified if his best mate worked at the university; it could be anyone else…

"If Sirius doesn't mind," Lily said kindly. Sirius snapped out of his thoughts.

"Go ahead, leave me alone." He scowled, turning his head and sticking his nose into the air. "See if I care."

Lily giggled and Sirius heard her and James leave the room. That's when he shut his eyes, losing himself in the puzzle that was Professor Moony.

Professor Moony,

Please give me another hint, I beg of you. It's not fair that you were born with a brilliant mind and I wasn't. My poor brain cannot handle your complexity.

"Complexity"? Who am I becoming? You're rubbing off on me, Mr. Moony.

Your Very Desperate Penpal,

Professor Padfoot

Professor Padfoot,

You are fortunate that I am in a good mood tonight; I have finished grading all of the reviews of Romeo and Juliet I assigned last week. I must say, their interpretations of the confession scene are quite enjoyable.

That should suffice, I hope.

Professor Moony

"Benjy, how well do you know the English department? I need your help."

Professor Moony,

Thank you. Your hint helped tremendously. I have narrowed it down to four people. The tricky bit is going to be figuring out which one of the four you are.

I think I'm pretty close. I can smell my triumph, it is tantalizingly close.

Here's your final clue, Prof. Moony. I'm —"

Sirius paused. He had been on the verge of writing something telling, something personal, but he wanted to be clever about it. Maybe it was best not to tell him right away.

But maybe, he could do something else.

I'm dead serious about telling you this time. I always am.

Remus's lungs constricted and he couldn't breathe.

I can't believe —

"— that it's him?" James guffawed. "I'm surprised you didn't put the pieces together sooner. Dumbledore is a genius."

"Yeah, well…" Remus clutched the paper. He had pulled James into the boys' restroom during their lunchtime, so he could confess to him without Sirius overhearing.

But that was all pointless anyway since Sirius had implied in his last letter that he knew who Remus was. Or was almost there. Thank goodness the campus was enormous. Avoiding him was easy.

"What do I say to him?" Remus asked nervously, his panic kicking in. "I can't avoid him forever, but I want it to be special and —"

"Remus." Hazel eyes burned into his, steady and reassuring. "I have a theory. And it might just be the best theory you've ever heard."

"We need to stage another intervention," Sirius declared to his students. "We did a unit on this play last semester, but —"

"Let me guess, Romeo and Juliet?" a student called from the back of the room, a face that looked familiar but unfamiliar.

"Yes, how did you —"

The student stood up, running a hand through his light brown hair. "My name is Teddy," he said, lips pulling up into a grin. "Teddy Lupin."

Remus's English class filed into the auditorium. There was going to be some kind of seminar, involving the Arts and English department. He sat behind his class, preparing himself for a long afternoon filled with teachers droning on about playwriting —

— and the lights dimmed and a man walked on the stage, illuminated by a single spotlight. Remus's breath hitched and he had to grip onto the armrests of his chair to restrain himself. He wanted to leap up and flee from the room.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!" Sirius shouted, his voice echoing painfully in Remus's ears. "Today, I bring you an encore of last semester's Romeo and Juliet — but with a special surprise."

...This didn't seem so bad, but Remus still felt uneasy.

To his surprise, Teddy reprised his role of Romeo and his girlfriend Victoire was Juliet, her English accent flawless. She sounded natural as if she'd grown up in England (which was partly true, her father was English).

Remus wondered how Sirius had put together a play so quickly, but he supposed that they were reusing everything from the final performance last semester. Still, he wasn't entirely sure of the purpose behind this — it seemed like a normal play, except Sirius had been mysteriously absent.

He was proven wrong a few minutes later as Teddy and Victoire abruptly ran off the stage before a critical scene in the play — the kiss scene.

And Sirius appeared, brandishing a program — no, a paper. A script.

"For this scene, I'm going to need a volunteer." Hands immediately shot into the air, and Remus didn't blame them. Sirius was handsome; many students had eyes for him and to do a romantic scene with him like this was rare and appealing. Remus would've volunteered himself if, you know, he wasn't avoiding the man like the plague.

But Sirius's eyes passed right over the sea of waving hands and settled on Remus. Remus ducked his head but it was futile.

"Professor Lupin, thank you for volunteering!"

Well, shit. He couldn't say no now with all these pairs of eyes watching him, expecting him to go on the stage.

His legs were trembling as he rose and his heart pounded twice as fast as his footsteps. He was acutely aware of Sirius's eyes burning into his skull.

Someone stop him, stop me, I can't do this — where the hell is James?

But James was all the way across the school, damn him, and Remus had no savior.

His final footsteps took up the steps to the stage, where a teaching assistant thrust a script into his hands and scurried offstage.

And then he was alone. With Sirius. Standing in the spotlight, about to kiss him.

"Are you ready?" Sirius whispered, his expression revealing nothing.

"Do I have a choice?" Remus was pretty sure his face was bright red.

Sirius's lips twitched and he cleared his throat, beginning to read.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand,

This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

He took Remus's hand and Remus ignored the rush of adrenaline as sparks quite literally flew from their hands.

(Sirius's hand was nice. Warm and firm. It was the perfect hand to hold. )

His voice shaking a little, Remus spoke Juliet's lines.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this,

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" Sirius's voice was silky smooth and Remus was about five seconds away from running off the stage.

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer."

The end was nearing.

"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.

They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair."

"Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take."

Remus closed his eyes, but the kiss never came. When he peeked through his eyelashes, he saw Sirius hesitating.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sirius whispered, sounding nervous for the first time.

"...Yes, I'm sure." Remus felt his face flood with heat. "Let's give them the show they want."

He had no idea where this newfound boldness had originated from, but he liked it, and it shot skyward as Sirius leaned forward and kissed him.

Cheers erupted from the audience, but Remus was far from caring. The script fell from his hands as they kissed. Call it cliche, but he swore that fireworks exploded behind his eyelids.

Or perhaps it was Teddy, he would do something like that.

The kiss ended all too soon and Sirius was the first to pull back, albeit reluctantly. "That was pretty good, Moony," he murmured.

Remus's head was spinning, but he did not miss the unmistakable suggestion in his words. "But Padfoot, you're forgetting that I still have one more kiss to improve my technique," he joked.

"You talk exactly like an English professor," Sirius said, smirking.

"Anything wrong with that?"

"Nope. It's actually kind of sexy."

In the back of the auditorium, Minerva handed a smug Albus a wad of euros, scowling.

"See, I told you —"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence." Minerva looked very much like a provoked cat, so Albus decided to not push her.

"Do you think I should tell them that none of the other professors were forced to participate in this exchange?"

"...No," Minerva said thoughtfully as Professors Black and Lupin kissed once again and the students started to scream. "No need."

3284 words

Written for Auction: "I'll ignore that some of you are late... if you ignore that I'm the latest."

Hell, I know this has a lot of holes, but I don't want to close them. Fill in the blanks however you want.