Carry You Over To A New Morning

Around midday, Remus Apparated, with a sharp crack, into the living room of the flat he shared with Marlene.

'Shit!' Marlene's said, and Remus looked up to the sofa, from where her voice had come, and then, somehow, froze, because Marlene was very, very naked. Although her face was turned to look at him over her shoulder, he could only see her back and her black hair, which was loose and covered her shoulders. She was sitting on something, her knees spread slightly wider than usual.

'What are you doing here?' she snapped, and he opened his mouth to respond when she made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. 'Shut up. Don't. Just turn around, will you?'

He did, hearing a slightly hysterical giggle from someone that wasn't Marlene, and the rustle of clothes and blankets.

'Fine. We're decent,' came Marlene's voice from behind him, and he turned round, coming face to face with Marlene and Healer Martin, the woman who'd healed his burned hand. Her face was flushed, her hair tousled. She was covered with a blanket, and Marlene had hastily pulled her Healer robes back on.

'What are you doing here?' Marlene said again, but it was softer this time, when she took in his face. 'I thought you were going to spend Christmas with Valerie?'

Remus shrugged noncommittally. 'Kicked you out, did she?' Marlene said, perceptively.

'She left for New York,' was all Remus said. 'I'm going to make some tea. Martin?' he prompted.

Jo Martin, her dark skin making a beautiful contrast against Marlene's ivory one, as they were sat shoulder to shoulder, shook her head, smiling at him shyly. He shrugged again, then turned on his heel, heading towards the kitchen. He'd known, of course, that Marlene had had a new girlfriend, as she'd hardly ever been at the flat and kept staying away for the night, but she hadn't said who it was, and he hadn't asked.

He remembered, clearly, the conversation he'd had with her. They'd been talking about some girl Remus fancied, but didn't dare to ask out, too shy at fifteen. 'I have to tell you something,' she'd said, and then she'd sat up a little straighter in her chair, her Charms essay forgotten in front of her. 'And I'm not sure how you're going to react.'

'Okay,' Remus had said, not really sure where this was going.

'I might – like girls,' she'd said. 'Like you like girls.'

Remus had stared at her, her whole body drawn taut, as if she was almost demanding him to disagree. He then said, 'Oh, okay.'

She'd looked at him imploringly.

'Er,' he'd continued, 'I don't mind. If that's what you're asking. Did you think I would?'

'I don't know,' she'd said. 'But thanks.'

'For what?' Remus had asked, his nose already buried in a Charms book in front of her, and then she'd laughed, and that had been that.

Currently, he took two mugs of tea into the living room. Marlene and Jo had gotten dressed and were sitting on the sofa as if nothing had happened. And really, Remus reasoned, as he put the tea in front of Marlene, nothing really had.

'Sorry about that,' Remus said.

'Don't worry,' Marlene said, waving her hand loftily. 'Does ruin our plans a little bit, though, you being here.'

'Sorry,' Remus said, again.

'We could go to my flat,' Martin said softly, nudging Marlene.

Marlene looked at her, surprised for a moment, but then smiled, immediately abandoning her tea. 'Sounds like an excellent idea. You don't mind, do you, Remus?' she asked, courteously.

'Of course not,' Remus said, because he didn't. 'You go ahead and enjoy your Christmas.'

'Excellent,' said Marlene, grabbing Martin's hand. 'Happy Christmas, Remus.'

'Happy Christmas, Marlene,' Remus said, fondly. 'Happy Christmas, Martin.'

'Thanks Lupin,' she said, and Marlene Disapparated the two of them from the living room with a sharp crack. The tea she'd left on the coffee table stood, smoking softly. Remus leant back in the armchair he was sitting in, closing his eyes. To be honest, he was glad to be rid of Marlene and Jo. He wouldn't be the best of company today. He'd woken up to find Valerie already gone, the flat still smelling faintly of cinnamon, and he'd dressed, had breakfast, and left her a vague note about hoping she'd had a good trip (to be read when she returned) and take however long she needed. Then he'd Disapparated.

He briefly considered contacting Alice, but she'd be spending Christmas with the Longbottoms. And going to his parents was out of the question, because they would demand what on earth was going on with him and Valerie, questions he'd rather avoid, if he could help it. So it would be Christmas, alone.

He couldn't remember if that had ever happened before.

By the time it was eleven o'clock, Remus was feeling dazed and slightly off-kilter. The bottle of wine he'd opened, which had been left over from the party, was half-empty. It had a slightly fruity aftertaste, which he didn't really care for much, but he'd taken it, alongside some of his clothes, from Valerie's flat, nonetheless. He'd eaten almost nothing, because Marlene wasn't very good about doing the shopping on time, and there were only eggs and leftover chocolate. So he wasn't drunk.

Yet.

He was sat on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling, sucking thoughtfully on a chocolate bonbon, and wondered if it would be stupid to open his gifts all by himself. He tilted his head forward and looked outside the kitchen window, which showed it was dark, and raining. It seemed like an accurate reflection of his mood. Suddenly deciding that he would just get on with it, he slid off the sofa in a rather uncaring manner, and plopped himself down in front of the Christmas tree, its lights sparkling dutifully in the empty room. There was no question of his presents not being here; even if he would have celebrated with Valerie, he would've come and picked them up. This flat was still his official address, for all intents and purposes.

The first present he unwrapped was from Valerie, who had given him a beautifully bound book by his favourite author. She'd written a lovely note on the first page, which said she cared about him very much. Remus wondered, perhaps a bit nastily, when she'd written that exactly. Nonetheless, it had been a thoughtful gift, and he put it on the coffee table.

He'd thought a lot of Valerie today. He wasn't sure what would happen when she returned. He'd probably marry her, if she wanted to, and then maybe have children. Would he even want children? He didn't really know. She'd probably want to have at least one. One he could probably do. As long as it was a boy. He thought of Alice, who had married for love. It didn't seem like something that usually happened. Pureblood marriages, as far as he knew, were simply marriages of convenience, not of emotion. He wondered, vaguely, if that was such a bad thing.

He scrubbed at his face, trying to forcibly quiet his thoughts. He'd never admit it out loud to anyone, but he had been feeling a bit off lately; sometimes, his thoughts didn't really feel like his own, dark and slightly twisted. He didn't think anyone had really noticed. He poured himself another glass of wine, and settled himself down in front of the tree again.

His next gift was from Alice and Marlene, who had pooled their money and given him a bottle of expensive cologne, and a handwritten note signed by both of them, telling them they missed him, and they would see him soon. Remus smiled, and put the cologne on the table, next to Valerie's book. His parents gave him a scarf his mother had lovingly knitted, which was the same colour of his eyes, and a warm note giving their regards to him and Valerie. There was, fortunately, no mention of marriage or babies.

There were no other presents labelled with his name, so he started to try and get up, when he spotted it. It was a small envelope, which had his name across the front in slanted, curled handwriting he'd never seen before. He opened it, pulling out a Christmas card that showed a snowy roof and a big, bearded Santa, who remarkably resembled Albus Dumbledore, climbing into a chimney with a teetering stack of presents. As he watched, the Santa climbed further and further down, and then popped back onto the roof without presents, smiling up at him broadly. A tiny speech bubble appeared next to him. The words inside read 'Happy Christmas!'

Remus furrowed his brows. What on earth? He folded open the card, which was filled with the same neat, curled handwriting as the envelope.

Dear Remus,

Thanks for letting me into your flat that one time and giving me tea (and that really awful omelette). That was decent of you, especially after I stole your wand, and all. Sorry about that, by the way. Bet you're still wondering how I managed to swipe it, though, aren't you?

I'm doing really all right, by the way. You kept asking, so I thought I'd let you know.

Happy Christmas,

Sirius Black

Remus laughed and then stood up, a bit shakily. The Santa on the front had disappeared again, taking the presents with him, and Remus put the card down, closed, on top of the book he'd gotten from Valerie. He hadn't expected Sirius to think of him, but he was somehow very glad he did. He shook his head. He'd known Sirius was lying about his cooking that time; his insistence that the omelette had been fine had come just a little bit too fast. And yes, he did really wonder how Sirius had managed to swipe his wand, completely unseen. Maybe one day, he'd tell Remus.

He glanced at his wristwatch, which told him it was half twelve. That was good, then. That meant Christmas was almost over. He put away his presents, and took off his sweater, which was itchy and slightly uncomfortable. He thought he'd better see if he could scrounge up some dinner, to soak up some of the wine. The bottle was closer to being empty now. He was usually someone who could hold his alcohol well, but things did start to feel slightly blurry around the edges.

He made his way to the kitchen and found, surprisingly, some chicken in the fridge, which he must've overlooked when he rummaged around earlier, and then some tinned vegetables in one of the cupboards. He lit the stove and opened the window, ever so slightly, to make sure that the whole flat wouldn't smell. He was halfway through peeling potatoes when there was a sharp crack that came from the living room, startling him.

He grabbed his wand, stopping it from peeling the potatoes with a flick of his wrist, and turned, going into the living room.

'Sorry,' came Sirius's voice, and he was grinning, stood in the middle of Remus's living room in a thick winter cloak, covered in snow.

Remus stared.

Sirius's grin widened, as if he was mighty pleased with himself, and then he sniffed the air around him. 'What are you cooking?'

'Chicken,' Remus responded, lowering his wand. 'What are you – aren't you supposed to be at school?'

'Snuck out,' Sirius said, matter-of-factly, shrugging off his cloak and folding it, neatly, over the sofa. He was wearing a simple white oxford shirt, of which the top two buttons were undone, and a pair of black trousers underneath.

Remus had no idea what to say.

'Just thought I'd ask if you got my card,' Sirius prompted. He seemed suddenly a bit nervous, his hands shaking just slightly. Although that could've just been Remus's imagination, because Sirius had then pushed them into his pockets, and he couldn't properly tell.

Remus grinned despite himself. 'I did.'

Sirius returned his grin, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if in relief. At that moment, Remus remembered his chicken, and turned on his heel, heading back into the kitchen. He hadn't heard Sirius follow him in, but then he wasn't surprised when he turned and Sirius was sat on the kitchen table, grinning broadly at him.

'You should really be at school,' Remus said, gently.

Sirius shrugged. 'James is off trying to shag Evans again and Petey's at home. I was bored.'

Peter would be Sirius's other friend, although Remus used the term loosely; Sirius seemed to tolerate him more than like him. And Evans was the girl that James fancied, if Remus remembered correctly from some of the stories Sirius had told him. She was in their year. 'She made Head Girl,' Sirius added, sounding annoyed.

Remus turned off the stove, putting some chicken onto a plate, and grabbed some cutlery. He turned to Sirius with a question on his lips, but Sirius shook his head. He had gotten off the table and was standing really close to Remus, his grey eyes brimming with something Remus couldn't read.

'I already had dinner.'

I probably shouldn't be here offering him dinner, Remus thought. I should be sending him back to school, where he belongs.

Sirius really was standing quite close, his body almost pressed against Remus's. He smelled, a bit, like snow.

'Er,' said Remus, helpfully.

'Didn't know if I'd find you here,' Sirius said, softly. 'Thought you might be with your girlfriend.'

Remus shook his head, somehow not able to look at anything but Sirius's face. 'She's in New York,' he responded. 'And I'm not really sure if she's my girlfriend anymore.'

'Okay,' Sirius said.

'Okay,' Remus responded, feeling oddly light-headed, and dizzy. Calmly, he put the plate full of food behind him on the counter, and turned back to Sirius, who hadn't moved and was looking at him with wide, impossibly grey eyes. His black hair fell into his eyes and spilled onto his white shirt, making a stark contrast.

He was drunk. He was drunk, that was it, he thought vaguely, as he tilted Sirius's head upwards, and kissed him.

Author's Note: Thanks very much for your lovely review, FTR! I do really like Valerie as well - she shares a lot of my own fears.