It's Always the Quiet Ones.

Chapter Four.

Pretending as if nothing had happened proved harder than I expected. Every glance I shot at Remus brought back unwelcome memories of our conversation outside the Transfiguration room or worse, those of our encounter in the shower.

Remus, on the other hand, was acting as if he didn't even remember the conversation in the corridor, let alone the other.

I couldn't help but wonder if maybe someone was messing with his brain, or mine. Was this Snivellus's way of getting back at us for the Incident?

I knew that was another thing we had agreed not to think about (after Remus had finally decided to forgive me), but it was another one of those things that he was better able to ignore than I was.

Remus was really just better at letting things pass, I guess. The Incident, this new... situation... and the countless other, minor infractions he has to put up with from me on an almost weekly basis, from the pranks on Snivellus and the other Slytherins to the late night homework rushes to the hundreds of awkward things I say without thinking.

That man is truly a saint for putting up with me, now that I think about it.

Anyway, two days after That Fateful Morning, the four of us were sitting around the fireplace in the common room.

Remus had his head buried in a book beside me. James and Peter, on the couch across from us, were involved in a heated debate about Pretzels.

"But James, if you eat all the broken ones first, you're saying that their existence isn't worth as much as the perfect ones," said Peter.

"They're not," replied James. "You can eat the broken ones first without feeling guilty. Because you're doing the bowl a favor by getting rid of them."

"So you're saying that if all the cripples and amputees were killed, the world would be better off?" asked Peter, leaning forward.

James reeled back. "What? When did I say that?" he asked. "I never said that. We're talking about pretzels here!"

The bowl of pretzels that had started the whole debate lay neglected on the table between them. I darted forward and snatched one, munching thoughtfully as I returned my attention to Remus.

His hair had fallen into his eyes. I smiled as I watched him read because even though he had hair in his eyes, it was okay because he was looking down anyway.

Bored, I flopped over so that my head rested on one of his legs. My hair fell over his book, covering it.

"So Remus," I said, deciding to ask the question that had been plaguing me since it had crossed my mind two days before. "Why is it you never join in our many little discussions about the birds around here?"

"Because I'm gay," he said.

"Oh. Okay, makes sense," I replied.

He moved some of my hair aside and continued reading.

And then I suddenly realized exactly what he'd just said.

"Wait, what?" I cried, sitting up and looking hard at him.

"You heard me."

Wow. That was not the answer I'd been expecting. That was not how I'd imagined the evening would progress.

Not that I'd been expecting any answer in particular, just, that wasn't it.

I must have heard wrong.

"No, I really don't think I did. I heard—" I began, protesting, until the look on his face shut me up.

It said 'say one more word and you'll owe me another apology'.

"Another apology?" I asked before I realized that the warning hadn't been spoken aloud.

"You're hearing apologies, Padfoot?" asked James. Apparently my loud exclamations of surprise had pulled him from his debate.

"No, I heard... something else. And then..." I trailed off. "You know what? I'm confused and I'm going to bed." I bolted from the room, taking the steps two at a time. I needed to think.

If I had heard correctly, and I was sure then that I had (after Remus nearly crucioed me with his eyes), one of my best mates liked blokes.

Blokes that were possibly me.

I knew right then, without any time to think whatsoever, that I hoped to god he didn't fancy me. Because the awkwardness between us those past two days would be nothing compared to how awkward it would be if he did. And after those last two days, I was sure that I couldn't deal with any more awkwardness or I would surely spontaneously combust.

That would just be no good at all.

Seriously. Spontaneous combustion kills 50 people every year. It's true.(1)

That's how my Aunt died. Although I guess that wasn't so much spontaneous as it was a spell to the head.

Still.

The point was, I didn't think I could stand any more awkwardness. So I hoped like hell that Remus didn't fancy me or start fancying me. Or tell me about how he used to fancy me.

This was another realization about Remus that totally changed how I looked at him, really.

All this time, I'd been thinking that he was asexual when really, he was only homosexual. But I hadn't seen him checking out blokes because... well, I wasn't exactly looking for it.

And then, as I pulled my curtains closed being careful not to leave any cracks, another thought crossed my mind.

As soon as James had started listening to our conversation, Remus had clamed up. Glared at me when I almost repeated what he'd told me. Why didn't he want James knowing?

Did he fancy James?

That was almost worse than the thought that he might like me.

Or maybe it was because he did like me that he was willing to share that information with me and not with James.

And then I began to worry that maybe the next time we were alone, he'd tell me he fancied me.

I realized I could never be alone with him again.

Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. The door cracked open.

I curled up in my bed and pretended to be asleep, wishing I hadn't taken off my shirt in case I had to get up.

Remus pulled back the curtains and looked down at me.

A/N: Dun dun dun!! Okay, that ending was a bit melodramatic. Oops.

(1) It's not true, I made that up.