A/N: Sorry this is super late. The following updates will be uploaded pretty far apart from each other because I've been busy with school and college applications and all that. Thank you for being supportive nonetheless. I still log in to check my inbox everyday so if you have any questions or anything you want to say really, I reply immediately, or at least as soon as I can. I promise to start replying to the reviews again for this chapter and the next ones, I just haven't had the time lately. The next one will be particularly late because lots of applications this month, but the next one is worth it, I swear. For now, though, I hope you like this one. Thank you so much, guys :)

"Where's Peter?"

"Common Room with Alice."

"Where's Lily?"

"Hanging out with Marlene."

"Where's Fra-"

"You're just asking where everyone is so that when you ask about Moony, it doesn't sound like you've been thinking about him since the feast."

"...Fine. Where's Moony?"

"He's at Anthony's dorm, Sirius."

"Why is he there?"

"Because he's saying goodbye."

"Is saying goodbye to him really that important?" I whine, trying to ignore how childish I sound. Any ability to censor myself around James disappeared long ago, around the time we got our first detention. "We're his best mates, shouldn't he be spending his last night with us?"

I'm sitting at the foot of James' bed, watching him pack his trunk. I haven't even touched any of my things yet. This year has been such a haze, I'm having trouble believing it's actually over.

James, kneeling in front of his trunk to stuff in his Quidditch gear, looks up to scowl at me. "Pads, we're going to be stuck with the bloke for eight hours on the train tomorrow and you're staying with him afterwards. Plus, Anthony is his... best mate. No need to get jealous. It's not a good look on you."

I glower at him. "First of all, anything is a good look on me. Second of all," I continue, ignoring James' eye roll, "I'm not jealous, okay?"

James snorts. "Pads, you tried to jinx Anthony yesterday when he lent Moony his hoodie."

"I would've succeeded too, if you didn't stop me," I murmur under my breath.

"I heard that," James replies. "It's amazing, really."

"What is?"

He smirks, shaking his head in disbelief. "I always waited for you to a find a girl that could turn you into a pathetic mess. But here you are, whining about Moony. This is the dream."

"Glad you're enjoying," I mutter sarcastically, looking down as I feel my cheeks burn. Everything is still hard to get used to. It's taking everything in me to not just laugh and just tell James I wasn't serious about liking Remus. Liking Remus that way.

I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I actually have feelings for a bloke. And a bloke I've known and been best mates with since I was eleven, at that. Remus has always been special, but so have James and Peter. It's hard to identify how it went from harmless thoughts about him, to all-consuming thoughts on an hourly basis. When exactly did I start noticing sappy rubbish like how he always wakes up with ink stains or how his eyes have golden flecks in them when he's in the sun? When did I start caring that when he's trying not to laugh, the right corner – always the right – of his mouth twitches, and he rolls his eyes? When did it start mattering that there are nights when he'd rather study with Anthony – and always end up accidentally falling asleep at his dorm – or hang out with Lily, rather than spend time with me?

Every little thing he does has the power to reduce me to a stammering mess, and it's not exactly fun for me. But when I'm with him, it's hard to mind. It's no longer the brotherly closeness I felt, like how I feel with James or Peter. Now, it's more of me wanting to get him alone, which is a daft thing to want, since I wouldn't know what to do anyway.

The fact that these emotions are...romantic has been irking me non-stop. It's suddenly weird to want to hold his hand or lie next to him in bed. Suddenly, I want to be next to him, to feel him there with me, all the time. Suddenly, whenever I catch him shirtless in the bathroom, I feel like I have to look away, even though I've seen him naked more times than I can count. Suddenly, when I see his mouth, I don't think about the cut just at the edge of his bottom lip or how it got there, I think of how much I want it on my –

I groan, shaking my head. Nope. I need to stop this.

James sighs. "What is it, now?"

"What if I think I'm feeling this because –"

James rolls his eyes before cutting me off. "What's the excuse this time? Rebound bloke? You just missed him? You're just thankful he saved your arse? He slipped Amortentia in your drink? Come on, hit me with your best one, I've heard them all this past week."

I frown at him. "Nevermind then, git. And I never said anything about Amortentia, excuse you. Remus wouldn't do that."

He looks up again from folding his robes. "Yeah, you're right," he says thoughtfully. Then, with a grin, he adds, "Because he's shit at potions."

Scoffing, I smack him on the head.

"The fuck, Pads? I was just bloody kidding," he mutters in an angry tone, but he's still smirking. "I know your Moonshine is perfect and all that, no need to remind me."

"You're terrible."

"This is exactly how you acted when I talked about Lily," he said matter-of-factly. "Deal with it."

"You and Evans are practically dating now," I retort. "Meanwhile, I...have certain feelings, for another bloke who was in love with me when I drunkenly kissed him over six months ago, when I didn't like him. And now that I... you know... he's over me."

James sighs, still holding his robes. "I'm never going to get any packing done before midnight, am I?"

Ignoring him, I just flop down on my back. "What am I gonna do, Prongs? Can't stop thinking about the git."

"Well, for starters, calling him a git might not be the most romantic thing," I hear James say.

I pull a face, even though I'm facing the ceiling of his four poster and he can't see me. "You prat, I'm not arsing around here."

James sighs and walks over to me. He lies next to me, on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. "Fine, you really want to know what I think?"

"Yes," I mumble.

"Okay then," he says decidedly. "I think you're an arse for not realizing how amazing Remus is earlier."

"Well, we're off to a good start," I mutter, turning to face him anyway. "Anything useful?"

He rolls his eyes again."I do think he still likes you."

I raise my eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because he still looks at you the way you look at him. He still blushes when you touch him. He still gets all flustered when I ask about you," he says, shrugging.

"What, so are you saying I should have just kissed him right then and there two weeks ago? Should I do something about it?"

"No," James replies immediately. "Don't."

I narrow my eyes. "Why not?"

There's a panicked look on his face, but he tries to play it casual. "Nothing...just..."

"Just what?"

He sighs. "He's moving on, Pads."

"Well, he doesn't have to!" I exclaim, feeling stupid. What exactly was I going to do about it, anyway? Do I know the first thing about asking a bloke out? Even worse, asking my best mate out? It all seems too bizarre. But I know I want it, whether I want to deal with that or not.

"Look, Pads," James mumbles. "He's forgiven you for being a wanker and whether he's still in love with you or not, he still has feelings for you and likes being with you. But that doesn't mean you get to make him even more confused about trying to move on and taking care of himself before dealing with a crush, just because you changed your mind. He really wants to move on, Pads, and –"

"But, Prongs, I'd never hurt him again," my tone was growing desperate. No matter what happens, James' approval has always been crucial. "I mean, I know I was absolute shit to him, but I can make up for it."

James smiles a little. "I know that. He knows that. But I have a feeling that it would be better if you gave it some time."

"It's not like he's seeing anyone or anything," I counter.

His expression softens. "Well... I mean, of course he isn't. He isn't. But just give it some time, Pads. Don't do anything stupid, please."

"I just don't see why –"

"Look, Sirius," James interrupts. "Let's say, I'd let you do anything you wanted. What would you do? You can't even admit that you like the bloke without flinching. Do you want to flirt around? Do you want a shag? Do you want to be in a relationship?"

That catches me off guard. I don't know what I want to do. Everything is so new to me that I can't even tell what path I want to take with these emotions I can hardly understand. It's all so overwhelming and I can't handle it. All I know is that Remus is someone I can't stop thinking about, someone I want to always be with. But I don't know what to actually do with those feelings, reciprocated or not.

I nod slowly. "You're right. Gods, I hate it when you're right."

He smiles. "Trust me. It'll all work out."

Looking up again with my head flat on his pillow, I sigh. "You better be right, Potter. I don't know why I'm seeking dating advice from you of all people, but you better be right."

"Maybe you're seeking dating advice from the person who has a dinner date with Evans as soon as we arrive in London tomorrow?"

I shoot upright, staring at him. "She said yes?"

He beams at me.

"Fuck, and you let me go on about Remus?" I ask in disbelief. "Details. Now."

"Really, though," Peter starts as he stretches his legs. "We passed our exams, isn't it so much easier to just Apparate home? We're just going to Apparate when we reach the station, anyway."

James groans as he leans on the compartment window. "It's tradition, Pete!"

"A useless one, at that," Remus adds from beside me. There's space for two more people where we're sitting, but we end up sitting so close, everything from our shoulders to our knees are touching. I don't mind the train ride if we can stay like this.

However, I still say, "That's true. We could have stayed in Hogsmeade for a bit, even."

James shoots me a look, a bored expression with raised eyebrows, and I immediately read him. You're just saying that to agree with him.

I shrug and smirk. Poor you.

He rolls his eyes. "You three have gone boring, it's tragic," he says, throwing his legs over Peter's lap.

"Don't be so dramatic, Prongs," Remus says, chuckling.

"I'm sorry," James says in a honeyed voice. "But you can complain about my attitude when it's not winning over Lily," he adds with a smug smile.

"Yeah, but do you notice she's always a bit out of it whenever she spends time with you?" Remus counters, grinning. "I mean, first time you got her into bed two weeks ago, she was knocked out from all of us almost dying, she danced with you when you two were drunk, and how was she exactly, when you asked her out?"

James glares at him and reluctantly mumbles something I can't hear.

"Oh, that's right," Remus continues. "Half-asleep out of exhaustion from her exams."

Simultaneously, Peter and I make a choking sound, biting down our lips and trying not to laugh.

I look at James and see him crossing his arms like a child as he slouches.

Remus leans back, with a satisfied smile, and returns to reading the book he has on his lap. I try to hold back a grin.

Just like that, I forget why I ever thought feeling this way about Remus Lupin was wrong.

"Is anyone home yet?" I ask, as I lug my trunk through the door.

"Both of them are at work," Remus says, as he takes out his wand. "And you do realize we can actually do magic outside of the school now, right?"

Before I can even ask him what he means, he waves his wand, muttering something under his breath. Our trunks immediately disappear into thin air. Distinctly, I hear a soft thud from upstairs.

"Show off," I mutter as we walk into the living room. No matter who is home at the time, his place always manages to smell like flowers and Mrs. Lupin's cooking. It's wonderful.

The environment is pretty small compared to the Potter's, but it's the only other comfortable place I've ever been in. The walls are painted yellow and clad with countless photographs of Remus from when he was a baby to how he looks like right now. The floor is carpeted blue, and lies under a worn-out, cozy, maroon couch facing a small fireplace. There are beautiful, homemade ornaments on the beige mantel, which remind me of how artistic Mrs. Lupin is. Next to the little ornaments, there is even a little clay dog – he insists it's a dog anyway, although it looks more like a sloth – that Remus made when he was in pre-school. Before it happened.

We plop down on the couch, exhausted from the train ride. With a flick of a wand, he conjures two opened beer bottles from the fridge. He hands one to me with a smirk.

"Great. You're going to get me banned from this house too?" I ask, but I accept the bottle from him anyway, taking a swig.

He chuckles. "Don't worry, mom doesn't mind me drinking."

"Did you play the 'I'm A Werewolf And You Wanted Me To Be A Normal Teenager' card again?"

He smirks. "Sorta."

"Amazing," I mumble, then add in what I hope to be casual tone, "Should we really be drinking?"

He grins wider. "Don't worry, Pads, as long as you keep your hands to yourself this time, I promise not to fight again for another six months."

My face drains of color and he starts laughing. To hide my unease, I roll my eyes and kick his shin. Okay, so I may not hide it that well. "Get over yourself."

He just continues laughing as he raises his bottle to me. "Love ya too, Pads."

I hear Remus' parents arrive an hour later when we're in the kitchen. When they walk in, I'm mashing the potatoes and Remus is placing the chicken on the serving plate. Mrs. Lupin gapes at us.

"You two are making dinner?" she asks incredulously. "Are you sick?"

Remus smiles. "Nice to see you too, mom."

Mrs. Lupin rolls her eyes and walks up to us. She hugs Remus and he squeezes her back, resting his chin on her head. It was only a year ago that he was shorter than her. When they break apart, she immediately gives me a hug too. She pulls away, and I get a good look at her while Mr. Lupin moves to – awkwardly – hug his son.

Hope Lupin is a person who, when she looks at you, makes it impossible not to instantly think of Remus. It doesn't even have much to do with her physical attributes. Her hair and skin are several tones darker than Remus' and her eyes are a dark blue-green as opposed to Remus' light emerald eyes. Her locks are frizzy and held in a ponytail, emphasizing her high cheekbones.

The resemblance lies in her smile, her dimples and the way that the right corner of her mouth is more upturned. In the way her eyes still manage to shine bright, even with heavy bags underneath them. In the way she tilts her head before asking questions. "How are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm doing great, Mrs. Lupin," I reply, smiling.

"That's good to hear," Mr. Lupin supplies, holding out his hand. I grab and shake it, nodding politely. Mr. Lupin is not the affectionate type like James or Peter's dads, but he's a ray of sunshine compared to my father. He's just a bit closed off, no matter how many times we've met. I have a feeling that he doesn't even open up that much to Remus, either. Remus doesn't really talk about his dad much.

"Didn't blow anything up this year?" Mrs. Lupin asks, grinning, as Mr. Lupin pats Remus on the back and retreats back to the living room.

"Nope," I say, smirking. It's only when I'm talking to her that not blowing anything up is something to be proud about. James and I have fought long and hard for Mrs. Lupin's approval.

She laughs and ruffles my hair affectionately. "That's good, sweetheart, keep it up."

Remus scoffs next to us.

"You're kidding me," he mutters. "I get in trouble for not writing to you on time but he's a star for not blowing anything up?"

"Exactly," she says brightly, pinching his cheeks. Remus' mouth twitches, but he pretends to not be amused and he leans out of her reach.

She claps her hands together as she looks at us with a warm smile. "Now, why don't you two go unpack and I'll finish up here before something catches on fire?"

"Rude," Remus says simply. "I'm insulted by your lack of trust, mother."

Mrs. Lupin rolls her eyes and retorts, "And I'm insulted you think that's enough to convince me to leave you two alone in my kitchen."

Wonder where Remus gets his snark from, I think to myself, as Remus chuckles and pulls me out of the kitchen

Remus has a pretty big bed. More than twice the size of the beds we have back at our dormitories. This kind of space was easier for someone who had to heal in bed every month. know that Remus never told me that his mom used to sleep next to him after full moons. I remember finding a photograph of his mother sleeping in his bed, next to a beaten up nine-year-old Remus.

Tonight, I manage to transfigure the bed into two twin beds. The last time I slept over here without James or Peter, we were only thirteen. I have a feeling that sleeping in one bed this time wouldn't be as casual as back then. Seventeen year old boys can't just sleep in one bed without it being an issue.

As I unpack my clothes, my eyes dart to the open door of Remus' bathroom. From where I'm standing, I can see his reflection in the mirror as he takes his shirt off. Hastily, I avert my eyes.

Sure, Sirius, I think to myself. The only problem is that you're seventeen. Right.

I sit at the edge of my bed, rubbing my face. I don't know why I think it'll get rid of the blush.

He walks out of the bathroom a moment later, with an oversized shirt and pajama bottoms. With a wave of his wand, he sends all my clothes into an empty drawer between our beds.

"I could've done that myself."

"You're welcome," he replies, as he sits next to me, cross-legged. "Dinner went well."

I snort. "Really? Even when I made a joke about you wolfing down your food and your dad glared at me?"

He laughs, patting me on the shoulder. "Hey, my mom found it funny, at least."

"Yeah, yeah," I say, smiling a bit. "Why is that, though?"

He shrugs. "She has a good sense of humor."

"No," I murmur. "Why is your dad so much more sensitive about it than your mom?"

Remus' face falls. "Long story."

"I've got all the time you need."

He smiles a little. "Trust me, I barely understand it. Just leave it, okay, Pads?"

Still feeling concerned, but aware that forcing things out of Remus never leads to anything good, I just nod. "Sure, Moonshine."

He rolls his eyes. "Stop that."

I laugh. Before, I can retort, however, Mrs. Lupin appears in the doorway. "Remus, honey? Sorry to interrupt, but Anthony is on the phone for you," she says before shooting me a smile and walking away.

"Ashwood? Telephone?"

"I taught him how. It's too much of a hassle otherwise, since neither of us has an owl," he replies simply. "I'll back in a while."

He walks out of his room, and I suddenly feel upset. And it's so irrational, because I get him for the next month or so. A few minutes on the phone with some other person is hardly something to feel uneasy about.

Remus' footsteps stop shortly after he leaves. Suddenly, I remember that the phone is right on the other side of his bedroom wall.

Before I can manage to feel bad about it, I rush to the wall and tap it, murmuring under my breath. The wall discreetly transfigures into something thinner, and suddenly I can hear Remus' voice clearer.

I catch him midsentence.

"-haven't told them yet. But I want to. I just don't think I can keep sneaking around anymore..." He pauses, then sighs. "I know. I know that, Anthony. It's just that lately it's been harder. Besides, it's my last year and I think I'd be more happy if I could actually be comfortable being with-"

I don't catch the last part, as I turn to the window where I hear a thump. James' family owl, Tabby (who in their right mind names an owl Tabby?), is perched on the window. She has a small parcel attached to her leg.

Hastily, I walk over to her, and untie the package. Before I can even give her a treat, she immediately takes flight again. James is probably trying to get her back to them before Mrs. Potter realizes she's missing again. James hasn't been allowed to use her since he turned all her feathers neon pink last year.

The package is a bit heavy, and before I can wonder what it is, I notice James' messy scrawl on the attached note.

Hey Pads,

I accidentally packed your mirror. Thought I'd send it to you immediately so I can update you on how marvelous my date with Lily will probably go. See you in a few weeks after I get back from Spain, yeah? Miss you already. I would visit tomorrow before I leave, but I know disrupting honeymoons is very rude.

Your original boyfriend that can't be replaced no matter how much shagging you two are up to there,
Prongs.

Chuckling to myself, I fold up the note and put it in my pocket, as I set the package down on Remus' desk. I'm about to go to the bathroom, when I remember what I was doing before Tabby came.

I walk over to the wall, pressing my ear against it. I hear his voice again.

"-yeah, I promise everything will be fine. Look, just..."

There is a certain tone in Remus' voice I can't quite place, but makes me feel uneasy, all the same.

"Of course, yeah," he continues. "...No, it's okay...Yeah, never mind, we'll talk soon...You too, Anthony... Goodnight."

Before I can process what that whole conversation – or at least what I heard of it – was about, I hear him hang up, followed by his footsteps. I launch myself onto the bed, lying on my stomach. I realize I grabbed a book from his bed on the way, to make myself look busy. It's only when he appears in the doorway again that I realize that I'm pretending to read a history book.

"What are you doing?"

"Educating myself," I reply in a heartbeat, not looking up from the pages.

"On history or on what Anthony and I were talking about?"

I look up at him guiltily. "If I say history, will you pretend to believe me?"

He rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at me. Chuckling, I dodge it, relieved he isn't mad.

"Pillow fights? Really?" I mutter. "This is one of those sleepovers?"

"Shut up, Black," he says, shaking his head. He sits cross-legged on his bed, facing me.

I smirk at him, questions still nagging in the back of my head. I prop myself up on my elbows and ask him, "What were you talking about, though? I know it's none of my business, but I'm kind of worried..."

He just smiles sadly at me. "I just... I'm kind of thinking of coming out."

I drop the book I was pretending to read and sit up. "What? Why would you do that?"

Of course, I regret it as soon as the words leave my lips. His mouth opens slightly, trying to form words, and his eyes grow sad. He closes his mouth and smiles tightly, nodding. "Yeah... I mean, yeah. You're right. It was just a thought. I mean, Anthony knows, and I was talking to him about it, and it came up and... It's stupid, really, never mind, I was just –"

"Wait –"

"- thinking that what if my parents would be okay with it, you know? I mean, I turn into a fucking monster once a month, this –"

"Remus, you are not a -"

"-is pretty mild compared to that, right?" he continues, his hands wildly gesturing and desperation filling his eyes. "I'm just so tired of... I'm being stupid, of course I can't just tell them. You're right. It's full of rubbish, I'm being a –"

"Remus!" Without knowing it, I've already stood up and grabbed his shoulders, looking into his eyes. He tenses and looks at me curiously. I take a breath and I say, "Calm down, okay? Look, that was the wrong thing to say, I shouldn't have said that. I don't even know why I said that."

That's a lie, of course. I know perfectly well why I said that. I said 'what' because it baffles me how easy he makes coming out sound, when I'm still choking down on my truth.

Then, I guiltily realize something. It's not easy for him at all. He's been dealing with this for three years, maybe longer. And I've certainly done nothing to make those three years easier, especially when you take the last six months into consideration.

He sighs. "I don't know, Pads…"

I shake him a little and he sends me a doubtful smile.

"Don't let me get to you, okay?" I murmur, smiling at him reassuringly.

"You should know by now that I'm not capable of that."

My heart does a somersault of emotions I can't quite place, but whatever they are, I feel like melting and I'm at loss about how to reply. Before I have to, however, he just smiles. Not a smile that says he's completely okay,nor the kind of smile that's fake. Just his trademark smile for subjects he wants to drop. So I nod and sit back down across from him.

He clears his throat and sighs. "So, anyway, I was thinking, maybe we can check out your uncle's place tomorrow? I mean, I definitely mean to keep you here with me for as long as I can have you, but you should check the place out so that you know how much work you have to do. Probably not much though, since your uncle left most of his things to you, right? Plus, most of your things are either here or at James', so you can move some of your things in there already. Even your Beatles collection is still in the living room cupboard," he adds.

I keep nodding, although I hardly hear anything after keep you here with me for as long as I can have you and I get lost midway trying to remember whether green has ever looked as amazing as it does when his eyes are involved.

"You there, Pads? You're kind of star –"

"Fuck, your eyes are beautiful," I blurt out.

Remus raises his eyebrows. "What?"

I practically feel my face drain of color and suddenly feel annoyed that I can't kick myself. "That's a line… from a Beatles song."

He draws his eyebrows together. "No it's not."

"Yes it is."

I catch the corner of his mouth twitch upwards and I suddenly feel like going underneath the covers and never leaving. "Which Beatles song?"

"The one where they were singing about… beautiful eyes," I stammer, feeling stupid. Even more so because Remus looks like he's second away from laughing, but he's just nodding in mock understanding. And I can't figure out why I decide to continue. It's not exactly a year of good decisions for me. "And love. And happiness... And…yeah, I think your mom is calling me, I should go."

I stand up, my cheeks burning. Before I'm capable of taking a step, I feel his hand enclose around my wrist.

"I didn't hear anything," he mutters, smirking at me.

I look down at the floor, avoiding his eyes. "Let's pretend I didn't say anything."

"Okay," he simply says.

Throwing a doubtful gaze at him, I get a warm smile in return.

"Okay," I echo. "Just, let me brush my teeth, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure."

He lets go of my wrist and I head to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I slide down against the door to the tiled floor, burying my blushing face into my knees.

Even after that, the only concrete thought I can form is Well it's not my fault his eyes are beautiful.

Preview:

Tentatively, his lips brush mine. So I go for it.