Shades of Gray

(the THIRD AND FINAL companion to "No Better Mistake" and "Finding Home")

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, or any other related characters from the world of Harry Potter. I also don't own the setting, plot lines, relationships, etc. ANYTHING ASSOCIATED WITH HARRY POTTER BELONGS TO J.K. ROWLING, not me.

This is a cute/cheesy chapter... that I love.

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5

With a faint pop that Sirius only knew was there by experience, the narrow hallway of his old, somewhat dim house slid rapidly back into his vision. He was used to this feeling by now, of Apparating to and from the Ministry of Magic, but he still couldn't help but feel slightly relieved every time he did it without messing up. He dropped his leather bag (a present from Remus for his birthday a few weeks ago) on the ground, automatically kicking off his shoes to lay beside them. "Hello?"

Sirius was in a particularly good mood this evening. As he continued with his Auror training, he was gaining more and more responsibilities. The government had paid him a small amount before, but, just today, he'd learned that for the remainder of his training he would be assisting a higher-up official, which resulted in a pay increase. He was excited to share the good news, especially as Remus himself had just had a similar experience in his promotion to manager of his shop. "Hello…?" he called again, now beginning to strip off his coat.

"I'm in here," called Remus from the living room. It took Sirius a moment to figure out exactly where he was in the space, though, which was surprising as it was very small room– but he finally spotted his feet sticking out from under the Christmas tree that still stood in the corner of the room.

"What're you doing?" Sirius asked curiously, but he too edged his way under the bottom of the tree, so that they were both flat on their backs and side-by-side. Remus had clearly switched the electrical lights on the tree on, and although their reflections were clearly visible in his eyes, the amber color of his irises seem to exude a light all their own. Remus' clear eyes were one of Sirius' very favorite things to look at, and he resented Matt for writing that bit, about his eyes being "like gems", more than anything else. Diamonds sparkled with glamour, and a falseness, but like everything else about Remus, the honey color of his eyes was natural, almost liquid; pools of light in his otherwise pale face. Even as a wolf, the warmth in Remus' eyes never diminished. It made Sirius think, quite sadly at times, of Remus literally trapped inside a wolf's body, as if the human Remus really were peering out from inside. In real life, Remus looked almost nothing like a wolf – his teeth were only slightly sharper at the canines, and he had only a few, silver-gray hairs that mimicked the would-be shimmering coat of the canine. In profile, his nose showed only the tiniest sign of an unevenness; a slight imperfection that fit his face wonderfully, smoothly leading down to his equally as flawless jaw, which had never grown hair the way Sirius' – he rubbed his own hand self-consciously across his chin – unfortunately had. Remus had a very sculpted, yet somehow tainted look about him, from his straight facial features to the multiple ribs Sirius often counted along his chest. It was strange – Sirius was more "rugged", and yet Remus was the one with scars; Remus had a youthful, clean look about his face and yet he somehow looked old. His lips, slightly pink from the cold outside, were mere inches away from the tree; the branches, which had been rather roughly cut down from their own yard, just about to brush both their noses, filling them with the earthy, somewhat spicy scent of Christmas.

"I used to do this all the time, at home," Remus said, and suddenly he laughed, turning his head sideways to face Sirius. "I guess I look pretty stupid, huh?"

"Yeah, you do," grinned Sirius, and Remus slapped him, rolling his eyes. "Hey now," Sirius grabbed his hand before he could pull it back again, "come on, tell me this story."

Remus shrugged, but Sirius was intrigued. Neither of them spoke much about their respective childhoods – it was sort of like an unspoken agreement between them not to ask many questions; one of the only emotional topics Sirius wasn't perfectly willing to discuss. Sirius had always assumed it was because it must have been a painful time in Remus' life, as the little he had mentioned had included only the fact that, up until he turned eleven, Remus had been convinced he would never really be able to attend school. However, if he wanted to talk about it, even just to mention a stupid tree thing, well, Sirius was all ears.

"When I was really young – my mother and I used to lie under the tree and pretend it was really big, you know, like in that story with all the rats… (Sirius didn't have a clue what story Remus was referring to, but he nodded anyway) I used to do it when I was older, too…" and now he laughed again, "but only when no one was around." Sirius grinned at him, nudging him with his hip. "What, you think I was crazy or something?"

"No," said Sirius honestly, reaching up to pluck off a tiny piece of tree, twisting the sharp, green twig between his fingers. "It's just… weird to picture you before we met."

"Well, eleven is hardly old. I can't imagine I was much different…"

"Was is hard, though?" Sirius blurted out, before he could stop himself, his eyes still focused on the branches and paper chains only inches before his nose. "You've never said anything about… getting bitten, and all of that." He snuck a glance sideways, shocked to find his words sounding somewhat awkward. He and Remus talked about almost everything, but Sirius, who was rarely embarrassed, felt uneasy. Remus, on the contrary, didn't seem to be affected. He simply looked contemplative, as if deeply pondering the question.

"I mean, it wasn't great, if that's what you're asking. That's why we moved out where my mother and father are now. There were some hard times but… " he shrugged, "it's in the past now." He said this in a very matter-of-fact way, and Sirius felt a small wave of relief. It was so much like Remus to be logical about all of it, but the way in which he now turned toward Sirius, smiling again, was unique to the new Remus, the boy with a startling new amount of happiness.

"In a way, though…" he said, and Sirius felt Remus' hand now upon his cheek, pushing back his quickly growing hair. "I'm glad. Don't get me wrong—" he said hastily, seeing the shocked look in Sirius' eyes, "you know better than anyone I'd change it in a second if I could, but… I guess it's not all so black and white… right and wrong. After all, it did bring us together, didn't it?"

Sirius grinned at him, once again grasping the hand that was now sliding down his neck. "Yes," he agreed, "and you know… that I like you just the way you are." Remus made to roll his eyes, miming gagging, but Sirius continued briskly, "even though you are stupid enough to lay under a damn Christmas tree…"

"Oh—" and with that comment, Remus succeeded that time in truly giving Sirius a good, hard punch.

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It wasn't until an hour or so later, when the two boys had long since wriggled out from under the tree, but had remained, for obvious reasons, on the floor just in front of it, that Sirius remembered why he had been so excited to come home that day. They were both sitting with their backs to the fire, sharing a bottle of hot butterbeer between the two of them (just the thing for a freezing day), when it came to him.

"Oh yeah," he said so suddenly that Remus started, nearly spilling the contents of the glass bottle. "I forgot – I got a promotion today."

"You did what?" Remus sputtered.

"Some more work," Sirius beamed, "but more money, too."

"Why didn't you say this as soon as you came in?" Remus protested, grinning too, but shaking his head in disbelief.

He shrugged, one fist supporting his head, gazing with quite a sappy expression… a definite result of their evening. "I got distracted, I guess…" he said, biting his lip, but then moving his hand from his cheek to inch his finger along the neck of Remus' bare chest. This was a bad habit he'd developed over the past few months. As a result of zero money for healthcare and little to no knowledge of healing spells strong enough for large bones, Remus' collar hadn't formed up quite correctly, but Sirius seemed, for some reason, fascinated with the abnormal, walnut-sized bump it had left. One major disadvantage of knowing and living with someone for over seven years was just how physically comfortable you became with one another… at times, Sirius seemed to forget that Remus' body wasn't his own, the way he constantly ran his finger along any scar or imperfection he could find, poking at bruises, picking at scabs.

"First of all," Remus wriggled away from his hand, reaching now for the one of the several shirts strung across the room, "that's disgusting. The collar thing, not the sex," he said quickly, and, because neither could help from doing otherwise, they dissolved into laughter. "That's not what I meant," he tried to say, but Sirius was in tears.

"I mean…" he was still smirking, shaking his head. "But…" he said when they'd quieted, pausing from pulling on his sweatshirt to smile fondly. "I'm proud of you."

"Yeah, yeah," said Sirius, but he was grinning too, pulling himself and Remus to their feet to try and find something for dinner.

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I wasn't lying about the cheesiness. Or the cuteness. I was in a really Christmasy mood when I wrote this.

THEY'RE GROWING UP... tear.