The Owlery was cold and damp, giving Remus the impression that he was still at the Quidditch game. He bent over his parchment, quill poised, waiting for inspiration that was slower than molasses.

Not a thing came to mind with a brain that nervous.

I don't have much to say today,

The barn owl's already on his way.

There. It wasn't a huge secret that the letters were coming from the Owlery, so he might as well mention one of the owls that had helped him out tirelessly. Not romantic at all. No hints given. No planted expectations.

"No Muggle could ever beat this jam, I tell you," James said, pouring raspberry jam onto his toast like it was a beverage.

"Muggle?" Peter asked.

"I've heard they're obsessed with making jam. One of the only things I picked up in Muggle Studies," James shrugged.

"Who wants to go to Hogsmeade today? It's gorgeous outside," Remus suggested.

"Yeah!" James exclaimed. "I heard Lily was thinking of going. Maybe I could surprise her in the Three Broomsticks…" he trailed off, oblivious to Remus and Peter's exchanged dubious looks.

"Sure," Remus said. "The rest of us can act normal and order Butterbeer for ourselves."

Sirius grinned. "So harsh, Moony."

"I'm just playing."

"Since when does Moony play?" Peter asked incredulously.

"Yeah, tell us, Moony," Sirius prodded his foot under the table. How could things be back to normal in such a short span of time? Maybe I was the one hiding.

"Oh, just this year, maybe…" Remus grinned into his goblet of pumpkin juice.

Hogsmeade was crowded with all sorts of magical folk doing last minute shopping for their sweethearts. Snow shimmied to the ground, wasting no time in making the students and villagers feel as if they were losing several layers of skin. Despite the chill, bubbly conversations flooded over from every person they passed. Even Snape was seen strolling around, looking less than miserable.

"It's so bloody cold out here," Peter complained, shoving his hands in his robe pockets.

"What, you don't appreciate my warming spells?" Remus asked with faux belligerence.

"Quite honestly, it's not doing that much…" Peter said, before uttering a string of words that sounded a lot like "Greta".

"What was that?"

"I–"

"Does little Peter have a date?" Sirius nagged.

"She just asked me to meet her in the Three Broomsticks, that's all!" Peter huffed and stormed ahead of them.

"Don't kiss her! It's too early!" Remus called after him playfully.

"Kiss her!" Sirius called afterward.

The two collapsed in a fit of laughter, watching him turn back and forth in confusion.

"Now that James and Peter are out on dates…" Sirius began.

"You mean one's out on a date and the other's obsessing over a girl he'll never get?" Remus corrected him.

"Ouch! Lily'll come around. She sits two feet closer to us in the Great Hall now, have you noticed?" he elbowed Remus, who knocked into an old woman carrying her shopping.

"I'm so sorry!" Remus flung his hand out, helping her as she stumbled. "See what you did?"

"Didn't mean to. Anyway, it's true," Sirius said. "He'll snatch her up."

Remus let out a shallow laugh. "If you insist. Want to stop at Scrivenshaft's?" he pointed toward the picturesque stationery shop.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, so exciting, quills and parchment! Nah, I think I'll check out Zonko's. Meet you in the middle?"

"Right," Remus said, and stepped into Scrivenshaft's – but not before he realized what an awful idea it was, stepping into a stationery shop when Sirius must already suspect he'd been behind the cheesy rhyming letters. God, he could be so stupid sometimes.

He wandered around the shop, looking and not looking at the fancy envelope openers and the ornate quills that strummed his heartstrings. There it was, laid out: the world of words, each with a different feel.

A simple greeting card reeled his mind back to first year, when Remus met his closest Hogwarts friends. James and Sirius clicked immediately, Peter took some warming up to, and Remus was just plain shy. But he loved them all. He loved them with unwavering emotion, knowing they wouldn't desert him for his being a werewolf, but being afraid of isolation all the while.

It was ground into him – pain, loneliness, loss – and first-year Remus didn't recognize the possibility of shaking it off.

Sirius changed that. He was the first to make Remus feel wholly welcome in their group. Lucius Malfoy had been teasing Remus in the Great Hall after he spent a whole dinner reading "that Muggle book", Vonnegut's "Cat's Cradle". Lucius spit on the floor at his feet. Dogface, he said, why don't you put down that Muggle filth? He never got physical, but there was Sirius, pulling Remus away and threatening to hex Lucius if he ever got close to his friend again.

It horrified Remus, scared him to his bones, wondering if Lucius actually knew of his werewolf status. He couldn't, there was no way – but what if?

Sirius numbed it with a swipe of a thin hand, a squeeze around the shoulders and a walk in the snow that quickly turned into a snowball fight. Remus hadn't opened up to anyone like that before, so open, so cold, so free. He didn't know flying balls of ice in the face could be fun. But with Sirius, they could be. With Sirius, it was just a game, just the two of them and the thud of heavy snow boots. There was no pressure, no name-calling, and no nasty Slytherins.

"Having fun?" a voice asked behind him.

"Wha-what?" Remus jumped. A rather wet Sirius stood behind him, looking utterly amused and shaking snow out of hair that brushed his shoulders.

"That card must be really pretty, eh?" he teased.

"I was… sorry…" Remus frowned, burrowing his hands deep in his pockets. "What'd you get?"

"Only the best Valentine's Day present ever for my sweetheart," Sirius raised a brow, holding up a finger.

"And who's that?" Remus asked, but Sirius was out the Scrivenshaft's door before he heard his friend's question.

In Sirius's arms upon his return laid a curly orange kitten, large eyes protruding from its head. Its fear of the shoppers was obvious, but Remus's jaw dropped, unnoticing.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Don't be rude – first things first, introductions! Remus, this is Vonnegut. Vonnegut, this is Remus."

Remus exploded with laughter and shook the ginger cat's paw. "You did not name him Vonnegut."

"Hey! She's a girl!" Sirius swatted Remus's arm as they left Scrivenshaft's.

"I can't believe you… What happened to Zonko's?" Remus asked, stroking the ginger fluffball in Sirius's arms.

"Well hey, I needed to make up for… for Welly, somehow, and… sorryIsleptinyourbedIdidn'tmeantoIwasjustcold," Sirius let out a string of words as one breath.

"Sorry, what was that?"

Sirius sighed. "You're really gonna make me say it again? I was cold as all hell the other night so I decided your bed was a good idea. I didn't realize… I'm sorry if that made you feel… Whatever."

"Cold and tipsy at the same time. Hmm…" The embarrassment in his face was fighting for the red tint given to his cheeks by the winter winds.

"Shut the hell up or I'll drop this cat right now."

"Okay."

Vonnegut, to put it simply, was the best cat ever. Of course, he had nothing on Welly, and all the twelve years he was a part of Remus's life, but Vonnegut was a fresh fuzzy face that Remus could get used to waking up to.

Remus sat in the fireside armchair, attempting to stroke Vonnegut's head and toss one of Sirius's quills across the room for him to fetch. The fact that both were simultaneously impossible didn't faze him: he was determined to stay at this level of euphoria.

"It's Valentine's Day!" James cried as he galloped through the portrait hole with a large box in his hands.

"I know exactly what will cheer that one up!" Sirius nodded toward Remus who must have looked pretty glum, sitting in an empty common room and playing with a cat.

"Did you go out with Lily after all?" Remus asked, grinning at James's infectious glee.

"Well…"

"They had a conversation," Peter filled him in smugly.

"Shut up."

Remus did his best not to laugh. "What'll cheer me up, exactly?" he pressed Sirius.

"Exploding Snap! The newest addition," he rubbed his hands together, sitting down with Peter and James and opening the box.

"Nice!" said Remus. "I'll be right back to join you."

He'd almost forgotten. It was the night of Valentine's Day, and he hadn't sent his poem.

Nearly running to the Owlery, his heart beat fast, a frantic drumline. It was almost over, he wasn't going to feel stupid anymore, Sirius wouldn't know, he didn't say anything about it, he couldn't, he wouldn't, he shouldn't –

Remus picked out his favorite barn owl and began scrawling his words across the parchment. He wondered if the owl knew what he was up to, if the creature ever thought of banning Remus under the context of cheesy letter writing.

I never meant for this to get out of hand,

I hope you've enjoyed, and

And what?

"Did you really think I didn't know you'd be here?" a warm voice asked a few feet away.

"Shit," Remus's hand skidded across the parchment, knocking the inkwell over. He set the glass bottle upright, too nervous for Scourgify.

He knew who it was, but he didn't want to look. Why?

"Sirius!" he mock greeted. "Why aren't you playing Exploding Snap?"

"I couldn't concentrate when I knew I could get you alone," Sirius shrugged, his cool eyes smoldering.

Remus swallowed. "What do you mean? We're alone pretty often," he fumbled over his words; unsure of what rubbish was tumbling to the ground from his mouth.

"I knew it was you the whole bloody time," Sirius said, a smile playing at the tips of his lips. With every word he took an echoing step closer to a now speechless Remus. "The girls who notice me would never spend as much time on me as you did."

"Wasn't – wasn't that much time…" Remus mumbled.

Sirius ignored him. "Every single day that owl would come by me and I would grin, knowing in my gut it was you, Moony, spilling your soul to me in the only way you knew how: anonymity," he smirked, "and words."

"I'm sorry," Remus sighed, backing against the window and sitting on its ledge.

Sirius shook his head. He swiped his dark hair out of his eyes. "I loved it." He backed away from Remus and toward the wooden desk in the middle of the room. "Can I?" he gestured at the unfinished poem lying timidly on the surface.

Remus nodded, grinning, too aware of the nerves trickling up his bloodstream.

Just don't read it aloud, he pleaded silently. Sirius obeyed his hushed request, simply grinning wider as the words went on.

"You're missing something," he frowned suddenly.

"Well yeah, thanks to this inconsiderate bloke who showed up as I was thinking of a fantastic rhyme," Remus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his gold sweater.

Sirius chuckled. "Well, I'm… What were you going to add?"

"Are you incapable of apologizing?" Remus asked, shaking his head. "You're incredible."

"I know," Sirius stalked over to the windowsill next to Remus, standing at his knees.

"What were you going to add?" he repeated.

Remus hesitated, gazing around the Owlery, waiting for an answer to jump out at him and go 'boo'. Truth was, there was no fantastic rhyme holed up in his brain waiting to leak itself onto the parchment. There was no answer. There was only his best friend, parting his knees so to get closer to Remus, something no one had tried before that snowy day in first year. It was now or never, and when they were alone, never wasn't an option.

Remus leaned up and grazed his lips against Sirius's face. Soft kisses – first on his forehead, then his cheeks, then his nose. This was by far the strangest thing he'd ever not been forced to do.

The barn owl screeched impatiently and Remus laughed into Sirius's open mouth. Sirius bent over, grinning as Remus's clammy fingers swept his hair out of his eyes, and succumbed to the easy heat, the strength of the kiss. Sirius snaked his arms around Remus's back, tugging at him to get on his feet. Remus pushed Sirius against the stone wall, resuming their embrace, forgetting all about his oozing nerves. Longing. Soft. Now. There was no better time.

"I want you."

"That's what you'd add?" Sirius muttered. "How lame. It doesn't even rhyme."

"Shut up."

"Okay."

7