Potions and Remedies

James Potter hated the hospital wing. It is a rather well known fact in the halls of Hogwarts - one of the few well known facts about the Marauders with some truth behind it. It falls firmly into the same category of Facts About The Marauders as 'James Potter is a stalker' and 'Sirius Black isn't like a real Black' and 'Peter Pettigrew is a bit naff at Charms', rather than the more ambiguous 'Remus Lupin has a very poor immune system'.

Yes, James Potter hated the hospital wing.

It wasn't that he disliked being injured. Quite the contrary, he revelled in the attention it brought with it and he had built up a rather impressive threshold for pain in his many years as a sportsman and troublemaker.

It wasn't the staff he couldn't stand, either. James was actually rather fond of the matron, Remus liked to think. That same silent, secret affection he had for their Head of House, shown only in cheeky grins and playful protestations and hated little pet names like 'Minnie' and 'Poppums'.

And He certainly wasn't adverse to the cleanliness of the place. Despite what he would have his 'adoring public' think of him, James' corner of the dorm was second only to Remus' own in the hygiene department and that was only because - as Sirius had so kindly put it once - he had no chance of beating an OCD Creature of Darkness.

In fact, when Remus thought about it, he can't for the life of him recall exactly why James Potter hated the hospital wing, but he does.

With a Passion.

So it is very peculiar indeed when the unmistakable voice of his roommate of over five years reaches Remus Lupin's ears for the fourth time in a day. It is a very specific voice. It has that clear, concise ring to it that confesses James' privileged upbringing, and the cocky, joyful edge of his unerring confidence. It usually comes with the more subtle, underlying touch of determined loyalty. But that might be Remus letting his imagination get poetic.

James didn't know Remus knew, of course. As always, James probably thought he was being clever and careful and cunning when really, as always, he was being careless and conspicuous and acting a bit like another 'c' word Remus refused to even think.

The first time had been very early that morning, just after Madam Pomfrey had finished piecing him back together and sewing him up again. He had been only semi-conscious, but didn't miss the obvious grin in that distinct voice when it addressed the matron by her given name. Only Sirius and James had the guile to do that. Not even Remus, who was almost certainly on better terms with the little woman than most students, would ever dream of calling the nurse 'Poppy'. It just didn't sit right.

The second time, Remus wasn't even sure was a time at all. It had been mid-morning, just as his potions were wearing off, and he was still drowsy, mind sluggish after the heavy sedation that always followed a particularly rough moon. But he thought he heard that voice again, more urgent and uncharacteristically hushed. But just why it would be so frantic, Remus couldn't fathom. Perhaps it had only been a dream, after all.

The third time had been the usual afternoon visit, just after lessons finished at five. Remus hadn't honestly been expecting Sirius to come, not after the fight. It wouldn't have been right, to sit and smile and pretend everything was normal again. But it was still unbelievably strange not to have him there, with his comforting smile and reassuring closeness.

James was remarkably distracted, too, though he didn't talk about it, and it was left to Peter to try to fill the lapses in conversation. He wasn't very good at it, never had been, and Remus was actually rather glad of the quiet. It had been a very difficult night without the help he was growing accustomed to, and his head was the least that ached.

Thankfully, Remus had managed to pass it off as the effects of the autumn - when the sun hung lower and the skies were clear and crisp and the moon was visible even in the daylight hours. This, of course, was a complete lie; it had been overcast and cloudy all week, finally culminating in the horrendous thunderstorm the night before.

Madam Pomfrey graciously accepted the fib, with only a stern look that quite clearly said Don't you think for a moment that I don't know you are lying.

After what was possibly the most awkward visit since they started coming in third year, Remus gave them a chance to excuse themselves by claiming he needed some rest. Peter had been clearly relieved, and apologised profusely while his eyes said his 'thank you's for him.

That had been hours ago now, and judging from the sparse scattering of dimly lit candles it was most definitely after curfew. But Remus was almost certain he had heard that voice again. He lay still for a few moments, just listening.

Nothing.

Maybe I'm still befuddled from the potions, he reassured himself. Then he scoffed at his use of the word 'befuddled' as he settled back against his pillow. But his eyes had barely closed again when the heavy door to the hospital closed with a telltale little snick sound.

Remus' bed was right at the back of the wing, next to the nurse's private quarters. They were in complete darkness; Pomfrey was asleep. He couldn't see the door for the curtains separating him from the rest of the ward, but after another brief silence soft footsteps could be heard approaching. They came to a halt not three feet from Remus.

' Prongs?' he asked the shadows, a little tentatively.

There was an agonizingly long pause, then a light rasping noise as the curtain was pulled back.

' Sorry to disappoint,' came the reply.

' Sirius,' in his surprise, Remus sounded almost cold. He tried to be a bit more welcoming when he continued, ' What are you doing here?'

' Here generally,' Sirius said, gesturing widely at the sterile hall, ' or here specifically?' he finished, waving lazily at the bed in front of him. He sounded tired.

' Either,' Remus said, shaking his head. ' Both.'

' Hypothermia.'

The answer was both completely unexpected and utterly inadequate. The conversation was feeling very surreal, and Remus felt a bit numb.

' Erm. Which was that?' He asked, slowly.

' Generally.'

' Oh. Okay. And specifically?'

' We need to talk.'

Very, very surreal. Maybe he was dreaming.

' Am I dreaming?' he asked, for good measure.

' No,' Sirius replied, quietly. ' Sorry.'

It was so unlike Sirius to be so stoic, calm and reassuring. It was unnerving.

' This seems like a dream.'

' Remus,' Sirius said, firmly, almost warningly. Remus swallowed.

' Right, No. Of course not.'

' Remus,' Sirius said again, much more softly.

' Yes, right. Talk. Must. It is a requirement. I do apologize,' Remus said, folding his legs under him and gesturing for Sirius to sit. ' Sit. Make yourself at home. Don't mind me. I think I might be panicking.'

' Yeah,' Sirius almost smiled. ' I picked up on that. Moony, really. Calm down. I'm not going to attack you.'

' Good. That's good.'

' Usually, yeah.'

' So,' Remus said, forcing some sort of composure. ' What did you want to talk about?'

' Well… Us,' Sirius said, as though Remus should've guessed that from the start. Which, if he were honest, he probably should have.

' Oh, right.'

' You don't have to sound so doomed,' Sirius definitely smiled that time. ' Just let me talk, okay?'

' Hmm,' Remus managed, nodding.

' Okay,' Sirius said, then took long, slow breath before bursting out with, ' I like you. Fuck. I really like you. More than I probably should. But I do. And, and I've been a proper arsehole with you lately instead of just talking to you about it and not being a complete coward and acting just like they expect me to act and, oh bollocks, I really want to kiss you, be damned wi-'

' Okay.'

Remus blinked, taking a moment to realise what he had said. Sirius didn't hesitate, taking full advantage of Remus' slip.

He reached out and gently grabbed Remus' face, fingers pulling him closer. His thumb traced down Remus' jaw and he paused for a moment, however brief, and locked those grey eyes to Remus' brown. It was an offer to back away, a reassurance that he could stop if Remus only said the word.

He didn't, and Sirius closed the gap, pressing their lips together.

It was soft and slow, and Remus vaguely marvels at the juxtaposition with Sirius, who normally has that unrelenting, hyperactive energy about him. It was a marvellous contradiction, this gentle kiss, forceless and unassuming as it is. Almost chaste.

It lasted longer than Remus thought it was supposed to, and when Sirius finally pulled away his breathing was shallow. He didn't move back far, though, and Remus could still feel the little bursts of hot dampness when Sirius spoke.

' Okay, Moony?'

' Err…'

Was he okay? His heart was beating so fast he was surprised it hadn't burst right through his ribs, which he was almost certain wasn't okay. His mouth was tingling, his throat dry but his lips inexplicably wet. His eyes itched with the need to blink, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Sirius even for that millisecond. His palms were sweating, and he was beginning to feel pale and flushed at the same time.

It should be very far from okay, but it isn't and he didn't understand why.

' Yeah,' he whispered, pulling the older boy back in.

Because maybe he didn't need to understand.

Because this was definitely more than okay.

Yay, advancement! Once again, I am terribly sorry for the wait. I have exhibitions to prepare for and hand it days looming and I've barely found time to jot down ideas - which I have been doing, incidentally. On my arm when I ran out of paper mid-project-briefing.

So, yes. Now that the angst bit is mostly out of the way for a while, I have lots of half-written fragments ready to be plied into chapters which will hopefully be a bit more fun again.

I've been writing some smaller pieces lately, because of the lack of free time. If anyone is interested, I've started posting a little four chapter fic of fragments of Peter's experiences with the Marauders, and more will be coming.

Thank you for waiting, thank you for reading, and I appreciate reviews very much. Danke schoen!