coyotesuspect

So, last night, I accidentally wrote more fic for

dogdaysofsummer . *sigh*

Title: Love in Many Languages
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: The epic love story of Sirius and Remus. 1971-1995
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~3500
Spoilers/Warnings: spoilers through book 5; no warnings.
AN: ~~Fake cut is actually a link.~~ Fake cut is now actual cut.

“In war the dark is on nobody's side, in love the dark confirms that we are together.”
- John Berger

***

Hogwarts, the Hospital Wing, Winter 1971

“I brought you breakfast,” announced Sirius, jerking open the curtain that closed off Remus’ bed from the rest of the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey had only let him in after he told her that 1) he already knew Remus was there and 2) this was the only way Remus was going to eat anything.

He was missing Transfiguration, but that was all right. It was nothing he wouldn’t be able to catch up on.

“You brought me breakfast?” repeated Remus, gazing muzzily up at Sirius. He didn’t look hurt, but that didn’t mean anything. Pomfrey had no trouble with flesh wounds. But he did look incredibly tired, half circles beneath his eyes a bruised-black color.

“You don’t eat enough as it is,” replied Sirius with a frown. He sat down next to Remus, placing the plate carefully onto Remus’ lap and passing him the silverware. “And I know what your favorite foods are. So it only made sense.”

“Oh,” said Remus, blinking down at the plate. “How did you know I was in here in the first place?”

“Broke my thumb yesterday,” admitted Sirius. “Wrestling James. And I came by here to have Madame Pomfrey fix me up. Then some third year came in all bloody, and I thought, ‘Well Black, who’s behind that curtain? Best go have a looksie.’ And, you know. There you were.”

“Here I am,” said Remus dully. He wrinkled his nose, slanting a sly glance at Sirius. “Do you really go yourself ‘Black’ in your head though? Because that’s a bit strange.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Sirius, no heat to it. He flicked Remus very lightly on the ear. “Now eat your breakfast, damn you. Or I shall be forced to feed you myself.”

“How very frightening,” muttered Remus, but he picked up his fork all the same.

“I thought you were at your gran’s,” said Sirius, after a moment of watching Remus eat.

Remus didn’t say anything, and Sirius sighed. But he didn’t leave until Remus’ plate was clean.

***

Hogwarts, Gryffindor Tower, Second Year Boys’ Dormitory, Winter 1972

“Remus!” shouted Sirius, pounding on the bathroom door once more. “Come out! We told you we were still your friends! What have you got to be upset about?”

“GO AWAY!” Remus yelled back. His voice sounded raw.

“It’s best just to do as he says,” advised James, sitting glumly on his bed. “We did kind of spring this on him. We should give him some time to adjust.”

“James is right you know,” piped up Peter. He was eyeing the bathroom door warily, as if he were afraid Remus might come barreling through at any moment, fully transformed into a werewolf.

“Oh no,” said Sirius firmly. “It’s Remus. If we give him any time alone, he’s just going to use it to think. And that’s never good.”

He banged on the door again. “You’re worse than Moaning Myrtle, you know that Remus?”

Nothing.

“I swear to God,” threatened Sirius. “If you don’t open this door in thirty seconds, I’ll use alohamora and then… and then I’ll drag you out of there and turn your hair pink!”

More silence. James’ frown deepened. Then, the bathroom door clicked open, and Remus was staring at Sirius, a smirk playing around his lips. His eyes were red, but that was the only sign he’d been upset.

“Turn my hair pink?” he mimicked in a high voice. “Really Sirius? Is that the best you could come up with? And here I thought you were supposed to be some kind of prankster mastermind.”

“I’d’ve done worse after that,” said Sirius, too happy that Remus had come out to really be offended. “I just needed time to think is all.” And then, before Remus could think of locking himself in the bathroom again, Sirius launched forward and hugged Remus tightly, pulling him all the way into the room.

“Fairy,” coughed James when Sirius finally let Remus go. Remus was blushing slightly, still not used to overt displays affection. Sirius cheerfully flipped James the bird.

“Now come on,” he said brightly, his hand on Remus’ back. “Let’s go sneak some food from the kitchens. I’m starving.”

***

Hogwarts, Charms classroom, Autumn 1974

“No Sirius,” laughed Remus. “It’s like this.”

He grabbed Sirius’ wrist and began readjusting the grip he had on his wand. Remus’ hands were warm and kind of dry, and, very oddly, Sirius was suddenly having a hard time breathing.

“Got it?” asked Remus, smiling gently. Sirius nodded; his cheeks felt hot.

“Good,” said Remus. “Now raise your arm like this.” He lifted Sirius’ arm. “Then twist your wrist and-“

Sirius twisted his wrist and muttered the spell, and the sound of ringing bells surrounded them. Professor Flitwick clapped in his hands in delight.

“Very good Black!” he cried. “And to you too Lupin. Five points to Gryffindor for being such an excellent teacher.”

“Well,” murmured Remus, breath hot and very close to Sirius’ ear. “I’ve just got a very good student.”

And Sirius felt his face redden again.

***

Hogwarts, Potions classroom, Autumn 1974, same day

“I just don’t understand what I’m doing wrong!” cried Remus in frustration. Sirius peered over his shoulder at Remus’ bubbling cauldron and winced.

“It’s really not supposed to be that color, you know,” he said. Remus’ potion was a violent orange hue.

“I know that!” snapped Remus. “I just don’t know how to fix it!”

Sirius thought for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“Well,” he suggested. “You could try lacewing.”

Remus blinked. “Lacewing?” he repeated.

Sirius nodded. “I think you’ve put too much erumpent horn in, and the lacewing should counteract that. Then you just have to start over from step three. And, well, it won’t be great, but it won’t be poisonous either. Here, I think I’ve actually got some in my bag…”

Sirius rummaged through his bookbag and found what he was looking for. He’d snatched the lacewing from the store room with the intention of using it for a potion in a prank, but he was pretty sure Remus needed it more than he did.

“There you go,” he said cheerily, dumping what he figured to be the right amount in. The potion steamed faintly, then gurgled, then finally shifted into a color close to amber. “Looks like that did the trick.”

He smiled at Remus, and the smile faltered at Remus’ expression. Remus had this intense look of relief and gratefulness, and it did strange things to Sirius’ stomach.

“Merlin,” breathed out Remus. “Thanks so much Sirius. Really, you’ve no idea.”

“It’s no trouble,” muttered Sirius, his face coloring. He looked at the crook of Remus’ neck and shoulder, because it was too hard to look at Remus’ face. “I just. Well, you helped me in Charms earlier, and turnabout is fair play and all that.”

“No really Sirius,” said Remus warmly. “You’re the best.”

“Better layoff,” warned James, popping into their conversation. “Sirius has already got a big enough ego. I’m surprised he still can get in past the Fat Lady.”

“Oh sod off Potter,” said Sirius, not sure why he was so relieved James had interrupted. “At least I have things to be proud about.”

***

Hogwarts, Gryffindor Tower, Fifth Year Boys’ Dormitory, Winter 1976

Remus cried when they showed him. It was weird, because Sirius had never seen Remus cry before, and of all the people he knew, Remus was the one with the most reason to cry about something. But even when he was bloody and bruised from the wolf, barely able to speak or stand, Remus never cried.

But he cried when they each transformed in turn and told him it was so they could help him out. He just sat down on his bed, put his head in his hands, and bawled, eyes streaming, shoulders shaking. The three of them looked on awkwardly, until Peter said, a little nervously, “He’s crying because he’s happy, right?”

“Of course he’s crying because he’s happy,” snorted James, cuffing Peter upside the head. He peered at Remus. “You are crying because you’re happy, right?”

Remus nodded, still crying.

“Screw this,” muttered Sirius, and he dropped to all fours, transforming into the dog along the way. He bounded up to Remus, sticking his nose between Remus’ arms. He licked Remus’ face, and Remus jerked back, laughing and startled.

“Oh gross,” he heard James say.

Sirius ignored him. He placed his front paws on Remus’ thighs and stretched up, licking Remus’ face enthusiastically. He tasted salt and beneath that, Remus.

“Off you brute!” laughed Remus, shoving at Sirius ineffectively. “I’ve already showered once today!”

Sirius whined. And then he licked Remus’ neck.

***

The Cotswolds, the Potters’, Summer 1977

“When are James and his parents getting back?” asked Remus. He was sitting on the floor of Sirius’ room, sifting through all the Muggle records Sirius had bought on a whim after leaving his parents.

Sirius shrugged, sprawled out on his bed and watching the ceiling. Things were awkward between Remus and him now, and he hated it.

“I dunno,” he said, sounding bored, but not really meaning it. Even when they were at odds, there were still very few people in the world Sirius would rather hang out with than Remus. Actually the only person Sirius would rather hang out with than Remus was James, and that was only sometimes.

“Honestly, I think they were expecting you to show up later.”

“Yeah, about that,” said Remus. “I, er. Well, I wanted to have the chance to talk to you first.”

“Oh?” said Sirius, trying to keep his voice neutral. “About what?”

“About what you said at the end of term actually,” replied Remus with an awkward little laugh. Sirius chanced a look at him. Remus’ head was bowed, thumbs rubbing over the record he was holding.

“And?” prodded Sirius, sitting up without really meaning to you.

“And, yeah,” answered Remus, looking at Sirius shyly out of the corner of his eye. He was blushing. “I think.” He hesitated. “I think I feel the same way.”

“Yeah?” said Sirius, smiling so wide it hurt his face. He swung off the bed so he was kneeling next to Remus. He felt bubbly, some warm expansive feeling rising in his chest and filling his head. It was better than riding his motorbike. He reached a hand forward and placed it over one of Remus’ own. He felt Remus’ thumb still, no longer making its nervous sweeps across the record cover. Remus nodded.

“Well good,” said Sirius, still smiling ridiculously. “I’m glad we agree then.”

***

Hogwarts, Gryffindor Tower Common Room, Winter 1978

“Oh Merlin,” moaned James for the sixth time that night. “I can’t believe I told her that. I get one chance- one chance!- and I blow it. She probably thinks I’m a freak.”

“If it’s any consolation,” said Sirius, flopping down onto a couch and putting his feet onto Remus’ lap. “She probably already thought you were a freak. And she still agreed to date you.”

“But before I’d never told her that I luh- that I luh-” James couldn’t say it. He buried his face in his hands.

“Well what if she died tomorrow,” said Peter, doing a better job at managing a sympathetic tone than Sirius had. “Then at least she’ll die knowing you love her. What if you’d never said it? Think how horrible you’d feel!”

James stared at Peter, aghast.

“Are you saying,” he said, in a high strangled voice, “that the only bright side to this is to hope Lily dies?”

Wormtail reddened; he looked down at the floor. “Well, no,” he said sullenly. “I just…”

“I dunno,” broke in Remus thoughtfully. “It’s not all bad. Some people like being told they’re loved.” He slid a look at Sirius.

“You think?” said Sirius, keeping the tone light, arching an eyebrow at Remus.

Remus nodded. He kept looking at Sirius. “Sure,” he said easily. “What did she say in reply Prongs?”

“I don’t know,” wailed James, hands back on his face. “She just sort of gave me this stunned fish look and I ran off before she could say anything after that.”

“Well there you go,” said Remus brightly. “Maybe you just surprised her and didn’t give her enough time to respond. Maybe she would have said she loved you too.”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows. “Huh,” he said. “You’re sure about this Lupin?”

Remus gave Sirius’ ankle a brief, gentle squeeze. “Oh,” he replied. “I’m absolutely positive.”

***

London, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black’s flat, Autumn 1979

The socks had all been folded. The shirts were neatly pressed. The couch was no longer the final resting place for Sirius’ robes.

“You did the laundry,” said Remus, standing in the doorway, looking stunned. He walked into the kitchen. “And the dishes!”

“Yep,” said James, when Remus reappeared. “You’ve got yourself a fine little haus frau here Moony. I only wish Lily took as much pleasure in tidying things up.”

“Merlin,” said Remus. “Lily’d castrate you if you ever suggested she clean as thoroughly as this.”

“You know Padfoot,” said James, draping his arm along Sirius’ shoulders. “Hates a mess.”

Sirius shoved James off. “Go to Hell Prongs,” he sneered, rolling his eyes. And then he smiled at Remus. “I thought, you know. I had the day off and you’d been kinda out of sorts lately, so maybe you’d appreciate…”

“Oh no, I do,” assured Remus, eyes wide. “It’s just unexpected is all.” He smiled back. “But thank you Padfoot. I really do appreciate it.”

Sirius beamed back, and leaned forward to peck Remus on the check.

“How was your day?” he murmured.

Somewhere to Sirius’ right, James gagged.

***

The Cotswolds, Church of Saint Rocco, Spring 1980

“I feel like a bloody monkey,” groused Sirius, fidgeting awkwardly in his suit. Suits were worse than dress robes, he decided. At least in dress robes you could actually breathe.

“Hush,” scolded Remus, straightening Sirius’ bow tie. “You’re very handsome. Handsomer than the groom even.”

“Well good,” said Sirius. “Maybe Evans will realize what a mistake she’s made then and marry me instead.”

“One can always hope,” replied Remus amicably. “Merlin knows I’d love to finally have you out of my hair.”

“Nonsense,” scoffed Sirius. “You’d be as wrecked as Prongs. I can see it now, the two of you off sobbing in some dirty bar somewhere, drunk on firewhisky and grief. Poor Wormtail’d have to pick up the pieces of both of you.”

“Tragic,” said Remus. He patted Sirius’ chest and left his hand there. Sirius felt warmth spread through his body. “While you and Lily are no doubt off having some incredibly kinky sex.”

“No doubt,” leered Sirius, and Remus rolled his eyes affectionately. Remus took his hand off Sirius’ chest, and Sirius snatched it back, holding it tightly.

“Well there Moonshine,” he grinned. “Ready to watch Prongs grow up?”

***

London, Remus Lupin’s ~~and Sirius Black’s~~ flat, Summer 1981

The dinner cup whistled by his head and smashed into the wall behind him.

“GET OUT!” roared Remus, reaching into the cupboard for another dish, and Sirius winced instinctively.

A teacup went sailing by his head this time and met the same fate as the plate. He’d never seen Remus this mad before, not even after he’d told Snivellus about the Shrieking Shack. But he supposed the confrontation had been brewing for months.

“Moony,” he said, holding his hands up, attempting to be placating. “Calm down.”

Remus paused, hand on another plate. He gave Sirius a very grim look.

“I said,” and his voice was calm and even. “Get. Out.”

Sirius stared at him. He expected to feel angry or heartbroken. He just felt dull, a little sick.

“Fine,” he said bitterly, and he turned around and walked out of the house.

It occurred to him later, huddled over a firewhisky at Diagon Alley, that Remus had missed him twice. Which was odd, because Remus had even better aim than James did.

***

The North Atlantic Ocean, Azkaban Prison, ?

Padfoot always seemed to know when the moon was full. Every four weeks, he would shift into Padfoot if he weren’t transfigured already. Then, he would sit back on his haunches and howl. Padfoot remembered running, remembered freedom and the hunt and the wolf. It wasn’t a happy memory, exactly. Dogs aren’t really happy the same way people are, but it was a good memory.

And he knew, somewhere, the wolf was howling too.

***

Hogsmeade, The Shrieking Shack, Spring 1994

Remus helped Sirius to his feet. They embraced.

***

Scotland, Remus Lupin’s House, Summer 1995

“Well, come on in then,” said Remus with a smile, and Sirius couldn’t tell if it were a welcoming smile or a wary one. That bothered him. He used to know all of Remus’ smiles, but this man didn’t look anything like the Remus Sirius remembered.

“Dumbledore told you I was…” tried Sirius, following Remus into his tiny house. It wasn’t much larger than Hagrid’s hut, and only seemed more spacious because Remus was a much smaller man. It was one room, with one door that probably led to a bathroom. And, Sirius noticed, with a peculiar sinking feeling, there was only one bed.

“Yes,” said Remus tersely. “He told me you were coming. Though you could have sent a note yourself.”

Sirius didn’t say anything, standing awkwardly by the door, somewhat afraid Remus might yell at him to leave.

“I mean,” said Remus, grabbing a couple teacups from a cupboard. “You could have written me any time this last year telling me where you were. Merlin Padfoot, if I knew you were in Hogsmeade, I would have…”

“Would’ve what?” asked Sirius.

Remus pursed his lips together, angrily measuring out tea into the two cups.

“Well, I would’ve come to see you,” he said quietly. “I hear you’ve been eating rats.”

“And I hear you haven’t been doing much better,” replied Sirius, examining the signs of poverty around him, the ragged quilt on the bed, the cracked dishes, the warped wood of the floor.

Remus slammed his hand onto the counter, and boiling water sloshed out of the teacups.

“Dammit Sirius,” he cried. “That’s not the point.”

Sirius blinked. “What is the point?”

“It’s just…” Remus sighed. He turned to look at Sirius, his head cocked to the side. “I thought- for years Sirius, I thought you were…” He waved his hand in a vague gesture. “And then I found out you weren’t, and I thought we could… I don’t know Padfoot. I wanted to see or at least hear from you, and you’ve, you’ve spent the past year ignoring me.”

“Oh,” said Sirius. He blushed. “Oh. I thought. I- I wanted to. I just, it seemed like things would still be awkward. I thought, you probably wouldn’t want to see me. I mean, we didn’t really part on the best of terms Moony.”

He fiddled anxiously with a hole in the pocket of his robes, feeling all of fifteen again, and when he looked up, Remus was staring at him, strange emotion in his eyes.

For a moment, Sirius thought Remus might hit him or hug him or both. Instead, he just thrust the cup of tea at Sirius and turned away.

“Here,” he said, sounding choked. “That should tide you over while I make supper. I’m sure I can come up with something more palatable than rats.”

Sirius took a sip of his tea. Oh, he thought. It was exactly how Sirius liked his tea. After fourteen years, Remus still remembered.

***

London, Grimmauld Place, Winter 1995

“I swear,” said Sirius, a little hysterically as he paced up and down the room. “I’m going to leave. I can’t. I can’t take it here anymore.”

Remus didn’t say anything, just stared up at Sirius tiredly from his position on the couch.

“Dumbledore can’t do this!” ranted Sirius. “I’ve had enough of being locked up. Thirteen years Moony, and he thinks I’ll just sit here quietly and let myself be locked up again? Because I won’t!”

He turned around to glare down at the fire. It hissed and spat, barely keeping the room warm. The entire house was cold and drafty, and Sirius wondered vaguely if that was something else he could blame Kreacher for.

“This place is worse than the Dementors,” he snarled, and he heard Remus get off the couch behind him. Remus placed his hands on Sirius’ chest, and then slowly turned Sirius back around. He gave Sirius a sympathetic look.

“I just hate it here Moony,” sighed Sirius, deflating. “And I hate that you’re gone all the time.”

Remus squeezed his shoulders and led him to the couch. They sat down, and Sirius curled up against Remus, his head tucked beneath Remus’ chin and pressed to Remus’ chest. He could hear Remus’ heart beating.

“I know,” said Remus softly, finally. “I know.”

Neither of them said anything after that. They sat there on the couch, listening to the other breathe.

Slowly, the fire burned itself away into nothingness.

-End.

AN: It amuses me that this could almost pass as a gen story. *g* I didn't intend to write anything else for dogdays, but the prompt got stuck in my head, and here we are. Opening quote is from the prompt.

Feedback is good karma. Thanks for reading.

Originally posted: here