Remus

With the topic of the term being Lycanthropy, Defence Against the Dark Arts had been dreadful. Not only was Remus' condition on his mind every night for half the month, but for the last two weeks he had also been forced to hear about it in class day after day, and witness the disgust, shock, and fear on the faces of his classmates. He could bear it no longer; not the fear of his classmates putting two and two together and discovering his shame, nor his own revulsion and self-loathing as he recognised himself in the class reading.

To make matters worse, Professor Merrythought had then set them an essay on the topic. Remus could not remember a time he had ever been so eager to complete a piece of work and hand it in. Such was his haste that on Thursday evening, when he, Sirius, James, and Peter were working on their paper in the empty Common Room, Remus barely spoke a word. He did not try to engage in any of their conversations, as he usually did. He did not offer to help Peter when he could tell his friend was struggling, and he all but ignored Sirius' attempts to catch his eye.

The ink from his quill was splattering on his page and his hand, as he scribbled the last few sentences of his conclusion, but Remus paid it no attention.

"Remus?"

"Yes? What is it, Peter?" he said brusquely, in a manner quite unlike himself. He had not stopped writing and was still looking determinedly down at his parchment.

There was a pause, and then Peter cleared his throat. "Are you—are you a werewolf, Remus?"

Remus felt the colour drain from his face as the words he had hoped never to hear, escaped Peter's lips.

"Peter!" Sirius hissed, and he swatted Peter's arm.

Remus cleared his throat, his quill frozen in his hand. "I—what? Of—of course not."

"Just ignore him, Remus. You don't have to answer that."

"You're always away at the full moon—and you look like death itself when you come back," Peter continued, undeterred. "And you told us you were going to get the train to see your grandmother last night. But I saw you go into the Whomping Willow with Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey."

There was a short silence. Even Sirius was quiet, and Remus could see it in his eyes, that he was wondering whether Peter was right.

"You can tell us, Remus. We're your friends. We won't tell a soul," James promised. "It would be pretty cool anyway." He smiled encouragingly, although it did anything but put Remus at ease.

Remus tore his eyes away from Sirius. His heart was hammering in his chest, and blood was pounding in his ears. "No—of course not. D—don't be ridiculous."

He felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he floundered and stumbled on his words. After years of practicing an answer to this very question, of course, the time when it really mattered, he forgot all of his careful preparation and planning. Remus stood up suddenly, and he had to steady himself by pressing his hand against the sofa arm. "I need—I need some air."

"McGonagall will have your head if she catches you out of bed after hours again!" James called. "Remus!"

But Remus was not listening. He strode the length of the Common Room and stumbled out of the Portrait Hole. Two years he had managed at Hogwarts, without anyone noticing. Two years of not being cooped up in a cottage in the middle of the wilderness, with a father barely able to look at him, and a mother trying unsuccessfully to hide her tears every month when the full moon came.

Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had fought to get him a place at the school, and for the first time, Remus had been able to make friends, pretending that he was normal just like them. But now they knew. And when one person knew, soon everyone would. Rumours spread like wildfire; it had happened before, and Remus knew it would just as easily happen again. His life at Hogwarts was over.

"Remus!"

Remus recognised Sirius' voice, which only made him walk away faster. For some reason, the fact that Sirius knew made the situation feel a whole lot worse. "I need to be alone, Sirius!" Remus shouted back. His voice sounded hoarse and frightened, even to his own ears.

"I don't think you should be," Sirius said. He sounded a lot closer now, and suddenly Remus felt a hand wrap around his wrist.

His skin tingled as it came into contact with Sirius'. His frustration dissipated and then surged all over again.

"Leave me be, Sirius!" he tried to yank his wrist away but Sirius' grip was too tight. Remus spun around. "I said, let me go."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, no," Sirius repeated calmly. "I won't let you run away from this."

Despite his best efforts to quell his emotions, Remus felt tears pool in his eyes. "Why? What do you want me to say? That my mother isn't really ill? Instead of going home once a month, I'm stuffed and locked up in a run-down shack for an entire night. That if I wasn't I could—I would—" he stopped and they stared at each other silently for several moments. Remus could feel tears trickling down his cheeks. "I'm a monster, Sirius."

"You're not a monster, Remus."

"I am. I'm a werewolf."

"I gathered that," Sirius said. "Possibly the rest of the castle too, given how loudly you've been shouting"

Remus yanked his hand out of Sirius' grip. "Don't say that! That's not funny!"

"No, I'm sorry," Sirius apologised. He paused. "But you can't think—it's not like we weren't suspicious before—"

"You knew?" Remus interrupted. He swallowed down a lump that had formed in his throat. "For how long?"

"Christmas. A little before, perhaps." Sirius reached out to place his hand on Remus' shoulder. He had done it many times before, usually in a playful manner when they teased each other. But it felt different this time, and Remus felt suddenly a lot calmer.

"We're your friends, Remus. Of course, we noticed things. I just didn't want to say anything until you were ready to share your—"

"Shame—"

"Your private affairs," Sirius emphasised. "James suspected and Peter—well, you know Peter. He can be very direct sometimes." He dropped his hands and passed a hand through his shoulder-length hair, a nervous habit Remus had come to know. "Usually, you're the calm one, Remus. I don't know what to tell you. What do you want to hear?"

Remus put his head in his hands. "I'll have to leave Hogwarts now. Parents will start pulling their children out of the school and then Professor Dumbledore will have no option but to expel me..."

"You want me to tell you that?"

"No! No, of—of course not" Remus spluttered. "But it's the truth. The last time—someone said something at school. Hardly anyone believed them—it was a muggle school so why would they? But I was followed to and from home every day for weeks. People howled at me when I came in. No one spoke to me and eventually, we had to move because they would play games and wait around in the forest when the full moon came."

Without being able to stop himself, Remus started to cry—out of frustration and sadness, or perhaps both. The prospect of returning to that sort of existence, to that part of his life constantly on the move, constantly staying away from others, and constantly seeing the disappointment or fear in the eyes of his family, was too much to bear.

"Remus," Sirius said, his voice soft and caring. "Remus, we would never do that to you. I'm not going to breathe a word about this to anyone. James wouldn't and neither would Peter. You are not going to be pulled out of Hogwarts, Remus. I won't let anyone do that."

"Why would you care what happens to me?" Remus' tears had subsided, and tiredness and sadness had taken over his anger and frustration. He spoke quietly, his voice hoarse and weary. "Now that you know what I am."

"I've known you for years, Remus. We've spent every day together—practically every holiday too. I trust you. My knowing this about you doesn't change anything. In fact—In fact, my respect for you has sky-rocketed."

Remus was silent. Sirius took a step forward. They were close enough now to feel each other's breath on their skin.

"I'm terrible with words," Sirius continued. "But while Peter or James could have reassured you better, only I could have done this." He paused, hesitating for just a moment, then leaned in, cupped Remus' face gently with his hand, and then planted his lips on Remus'.

Remus had never felt anything like it. He felt shock at first, then desire, want, and happiness mingled with surprise. He gave in to Sirius' kiss and kissed Sirius back.

Hello! Back again after several months of absolutely no updates whatsoever! I recently re-watched The Prisoner of Azkaban and thought to myself that perhaps Sirius and Remus did have a thing going on in their youth. I do love Remus and Tonks together, but who's to say that Remus didn't have any romantic dalliances beforehand? I'm also toying with the idea of making this a small collection of one-shots featuring some of my favourite characters, and a kiss with someone they love.

Hope you do enjoy :)