Fic: Posterity
Title: Posterity
Author/Artist: Penknife
Rating: PG
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Brief summary/challenge (if you used one): Sirius doesn't have as many regrets as Remus thinks. For the challenge The world will be thy widow, and still weep/That thou no form of thee hast left behind (Shakespeare, Sonnet 9).
Author's Notes: This is neither the first story I started for this prompt, nor the second one, but it's the one that finally worked. Thanks to artaxastra for looking it over.
Posterity
Remus glared at Padfoot, who was lying stretched across the bed next to him with his head on his paws, trying to pretend he was absorbed in contemplating the shadows the bed curtains made in the candlelight.
"Change back, already," he said. "I'm not going to bite your head off."
Padfoot's fur rippled and shifted, and Sirius looked up at Remus, his head still resting on his hands. "A good thing," he said. "I'd look pretty damn silly as a werewolf with no head."
"You don't turn into a werewolf if a werewolf bites off your entire head, Padfoot. On the other hand, if a werewolf tells Dumbledore that you were wandering around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters as a dog when you were supposed to be lying low --"
"Then that werewolf is clearly not a friend," Sirius said. He shrugged. "I had to see Harry off, you know that."
"I'm not sure had to is the phrase I would have used, but I do see your point."
"When no one else ever bothers--"
"Only if Molly and Arthur are no one," Remus pointed out.
"Well, they're not his parents, are they?"
Neither are Petunia and Vernon didn't seem worth saying, and neither are you even less. "They look after him, though," Remus said.
"I'll look after him," Sirius said. "I mean, as much as I can, under the circumstances." His face darkened, and Remus almost wished he were still Padfoot; it was easier to bury his hands in Padfoot's fur and pet him until he relaxed and put his head down on Remus's knee. Instead he tried to turn the conversation back toward safer ground.
"You know, when we were in school, if anyone had said you were going to turn out to be the paternal sort, I would have thought they'd taken one hex too many to the head."
Sirius snorted. "I expect so. I was a bit --" He broke off, clearly searching for the right word.
"Well, you weren't exactly a role model for the younger students."
"It was a shame none of them took after us," Sirius said. "The years after us were full of people who liked studying, and books, and not being in detention --"
"You'd hardly have known they were Gryffindors, except for the shouting," Remus said. "I liked not being in detention, myself. I just didn't have many chances to experience it, thanks to you."
"Taught you everything you know," Sirius said, and then frowned again. "I haven't had time to teach Harry everything I know."
"Well, there's time yet," Remus said. "He's got three more years to wreak havoc at Hogwarts, and then there's the wider world."
"At least I got him a proper broom. Least I could do. Have you seen him play, Moony? He's brilliant."
"I saw him," Remus said. "I taught at Hogwarts a whole year, remember? I probably saw the same matches you were lurking around. Speaking of stupid risks."
"It's Harry, Moony."
"Yes, but --"
"I missed eleven bloody years," Sirius said. "He's the closest I'll likely ever have to a child of my own, and he's practically grown." He frowned at Remus. "What are you looking like that for?"
"You should have had one of your own by now."
"A bit hard when I was in Azkaban, which was not your fault, so don't start."
"Before, though. All that time we spent playing about --"
"Is that what you think it was?" Sirius's face had gone hard to read.
"Fighting and saying horrible things to each other and walking out to sleep on James's couch and then pretending everything was fine --"
"I admit it was a little hard on James," Sirius said. "He didn't get to use his couch much. Still, it wasn't all bad."
"It wasn't much like what Lily and James had. And they had Harry."
Sirius was looking at him intently, although Remus was starting to suspect that the look on his face was amusement. "So you think if I'd met some nice girl --"
"Well, why not?"
"To start with, I wouldn't have gotten married. A terrible thing, marriage. It leads to commissioning ugly tapestries with your family tree on them and putting the house-elves' heads on the wall so they can stare at you with their glassy little eyes--"
"You sound as if you were planning to marry your mother. I think they have laws about that."
"It's all the same. I never could believe James let himself get caught."
Remus found that hard to believe; he could clearly remember Sirius hovering around the edges when Lily and James were together, looking at them like they'd mastered some trick he couldn't yet manage. He could still see Sirius cupping his palm over baby Harry's head with a kind of fierce tenderness Remus had never seen on his face before.
He'd been jealous, already on the edges by then, well and truly outside the circle James and Lily and Sirius made with Harry. Peter had been on the outside, too, but Remus hadn't noticed at the time, possibly because he was spending so much time looking in.
That didn't seem wise to say, though. He shrugged one shoulder. "I always thought James was the one chasing."
"It always looks like that, with girls," Sirius said darkly.
"Eleven years is enough time to decide to get caught."
"Moony, I'm not sure I even like girls. I certainly wasn't interested in marrying one of them."
"Be serious," Remus said, and then added after a pause. "Are you being serious?"
Sirius shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, I spent three years shagging you, it's not like you didn't know I was bent --"
"You liked girls fine in school."
"That was in school."
"And when we were doing -- whatever it was we were doing -- it was right after school. How was I to know you'd changed your mind about girls?"
"I'm not sure I knew. Anyway, what about you? You never paid any attention to girls in school, and I keep catching you looking at Dora's tits."
"I think she goes by Tonks, these days," Remus said calmly. "And I don't look at her breasts. Just at her hands, sometimes. She has nice hands."
"My God, Moony and a girl," Sirius said. "I'm not sure I can cope with this, Moony. I mean, I know you're getting to a certain age, but couldn't you just lust after a racing broom, or something else that would be marginally like you?"
"There was a girl, for a while," Remus said. It was always hard to remember there were things Sirius didn't know, and usually awkward to tell him. "She had good hands, too. She knew I didn't usually go for women, but she didn't usually go for men, either, and she said that made it all right. It was one of those odd things."
He shrugged. "She had short hair and a leather jacket and reminded me a bit of you." He wanted to stop there, but felt he had to add for honesty's sake, "But it wasn't just about that."
Sirius was studying his face. "What happened?"
"She was a Muggle. I couldn't tell her the truth, and she got tired of the lies."
"You see," Sirius said after a pause. "Women are trouble."
"There were a few men, too. That didn't go any better."
"You've been busy," Sirius said, with a crooked smile.
"Well, it's not as if you were around --"
"That's not my fault."
"I know," Remus said. He didn't really want to have this conversation, but he wasn't sure how to stop. "It was just hard. Things were hard after you weren't around." He could still feel a ghost of the old anger like a clenched fist in his stomach every month, every full moon he spent alone. "I should never have thought it was your fault."
"We weren't going to start that," Sirius said, and Remus nodded gratefully. They could tear each other to shreds trying to parcel out blame for the year before James and Lily died, or they could leave it alone. So far, they'd chosen to leave it alone.
The silence dragged out, though, and Remus couldn't help himself. "You know, that year -- 1981, I mean, when it was all going bad -- I kept seeing you at Order meetings and things, talking to James and Lily or holding Harry, and there was this whole part of your life going on without me in it. You kept looking at James and Lily and Harry like they had something you wanted --"
"They had Harry," Sirius said. "And then so did I. That was the point of being his godfather. And they had each other. And I didn't have you."
"When you did have me, we weren't like that --"
"I didn't care," Sirius said. "I didn't like fighting all the time, except sometimes I did, because everything was shit and at least I could shout at you and have you shout back and know that nothing was going to break that we couldn't fix. And we had sex a lot. And we ate takeaway too much, and you went out to get it wearing my coat when you couldn't find your own, and, fuck, Moony, what else did you think I wanted? What did you want?"
"I wanted you to have something to keep." It was easier than saying I wanted something of yours to keep, although no less true. Watching Sirius with Harry made him ache, sometimes. It had even before Lily and James were gone; Remus still remembered Sirius's wondering hand on Harry's tiny head, baby Harry tucked into the curve of his arm, his head cradled in black leather.
Sometimes Sirius looked at Harry and saw James, Remus knew; other times, Remus wasn't sure what he saw. A future, maybe. Whatever anyone saw in their child's eyes.
"I had you and James and a flying motorbike and a flat in London and pubs on Saturday night," Sirius said. "And now I've got Harry, and I couldn't ask for a better godson, and if he were mine I'd just worry that he was going to end up as mad as most of the rest of my family. And you're still my friend, I think --"
"Always," Remus said. They were lying face to face, their knees just touching. He could feel the warmth of Sirius's breath on his skin. "Always that."
"So I can't complain. As soon as I get out of here, I'll have Harry to live with me, and you can have your own room, and if you want to shag women I'll try not to act like that's horrible and wrong, although it is --"
"And what if I don't want my own room?"
Sirius smiled crookedly. "Well, it might be safer. Given that we don't have James's couch anymore. I suppose I could always go sleep with Harry if you throw me out of bed -- as a dog, I mean, don't look at me like that."
"For God's sake, Sirius," Remus said, and then laughed, and then couldn't seem to stop even though the sound was turning into something nearer to tears. Sirius pulled him into a rough hug, a little more chaste than Remus thought either of them wanted it to be but still comforting.
"You can't stay on the outside this time, all right? I won't let you be alone again. And Harry could probably use some sort of good influence."
"He probably could," Remus said. "Since I'm sure you'll teach him everything you know."
"If I have enough time," Sirius said quietly. He didn't let go, but his grip eased a little, and he relaxed against Remus. They still fit together, their breathing slowing toward the same steady rhythm, their bodies curved against each other.
Remus wanted to say you'll be all right, I'll be all right, Harry will be all right, but he didn't think easy lies were what Sirius wanted. "He's lucky to have you," Remus said.
"I'm the lucky one," Sirius said. "And although it's possible that evidence to the contrary will present itself, I really suspect women are not for me. You're not actually going to try to breed me like a stud dog, are you?"
"You'd have handsome puppies. I could probably get a good price."
"I'm sure you could," Sirius said, and settled down against him. "They'd be very good-natured."
Remus buried his fingers in Sirius's hair; it felt almost as good as petting Padfoot, and made Sirius close his eyes. "Not very obedient. Too strong-willed."
"If they take after me, they should be."
"They'd likely find a way to get whatever they wanted," Remus said, letting just a hint of a question into the words.
"They would," Sirius said, and wrapped his hand firmly around Remus's wrist. "If they take after me." Remus lay listening to Sirius's quiet breathing for a while. "And what about what you want?" Sirius asked quietly, some time after Remus had decided he was asleep.
"I have what I want," Remus said, and closed his eyes, trying to hold onto this moment, resting warm together in the candlelight, something to keep.
Author/Artist: Penknife
Rating: PG
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Brief summary/challenge (if you used one): Sirius doesn't have as many regrets as Remus thinks. For the challenge The world will be thy widow, and still weep/That thou no form of thee hast left behind (Shakespeare, Sonnet 9).
Author's Notes: This is neither the first story I started for this prompt, nor the second one, but it's the one that finally worked. Thanks to artaxastra for looking it over.
Posterity
Remus glared at Padfoot, who was lying stretched across the bed next to him with his head on his paws, trying to pretend he was absorbed in contemplating the shadows the bed curtains made in the candlelight.
"Change back, already," he said. "I'm not going to bite your head off."
Padfoot's fur rippled and shifted, and Sirius looked up at Remus, his head still resting on his hands. "A good thing," he said. "I'd look pretty damn silly as a werewolf with no head."
"You don't turn into a werewolf if a werewolf bites off your entire head, Padfoot. On the other hand, if a werewolf tells Dumbledore that you were wandering around Platform Nine and Three-Quarters as a dog when you were supposed to be lying low --"
"Then that werewolf is clearly not a friend," Sirius said. He shrugged. "I had to see Harry off, you know that."
"I'm not sure had to is the phrase I would have used, but I do see your point."
"When no one else ever bothers--"
"Only if Molly and Arthur are no one," Remus pointed out.
"Well, they're not his parents, are they?"
Neither are Petunia and Vernon didn't seem worth saying, and neither are you even less. "They look after him, though," Remus said.
"I'll look after him," Sirius said. "I mean, as much as I can, under the circumstances." His face darkened, and Remus almost wished he were still Padfoot; it was easier to bury his hands in Padfoot's fur and pet him until he relaxed and put his head down on Remus's knee. Instead he tried to turn the conversation back toward safer ground.
"You know, when we were in school, if anyone had said you were going to turn out to be the paternal sort, I would have thought they'd taken one hex too many to the head."
Sirius snorted. "I expect so. I was a bit --" He broke off, clearly searching for the right word.
"Well, you weren't exactly a role model for the younger students."
"It was a shame none of them took after us," Sirius said. "The years after us were full of people who liked studying, and books, and not being in detention --"
"You'd hardly have known they were Gryffindors, except for the shouting," Remus said. "I liked not being in detention, myself. I just didn't have many chances to experience it, thanks to you."
"Taught you everything you know," Sirius said, and then frowned again. "I haven't had time to teach Harry everything I know."
"Well, there's time yet," Remus said. "He's got three more years to wreak havoc at Hogwarts, and then there's the wider world."
"At least I got him a proper broom. Least I could do. Have you seen him play, Moony? He's brilliant."
"I saw him," Remus said. "I taught at Hogwarts a whole year, remember? I probably saw the same matches you were lurking around. Speaking of stupid risks."
"It's Harry, Moony."
"Yes, but --"
"I missed eleven bloody years," Sirius said. "He's the closest I'll likely ever have to a child of my own, and he's practically grown." He frowned at Remus. "What are you looking like that for?"
"You should have had one of your own by now."
"A bit hard when I was in Azkaban, which was not your fault, so don't start."
"Before, though. All that time we spent playing about --"
"Is that what you think it was?" Sirius's face had gone hard to read.
"Fighting and saying horrible things to each other and walking out to sleep on James's couch and then pretending everything was fine --"
"I admit it was a little hard on James," Sirius said. "He didn't get to use his couch much. Still, it wasn't all bad."
"It wasn't much like what Lily and James had. And they had Harry."
Sirius was looking at him intently, although Remus was starting to suspect that the look on his face was amusement. "So you think if I'd met some nice girl --"
"Well, why not?"
"To start with, I wouldn't have gotten married. A terrible thing, marriage. It leads to commissioning ugly tapestries with your family tree on them and putting the house-elves' heads on the wall so they can stare at you with their glassy little eyes--"
"You sound as if you were planning to marry your mother. I think they have laws about that."
"It's all the same. I never could believe James let himself get caught."
Remus found that hard to believe; he could clearly remember Sirius hovering around the edges when Lily and James were together, looking at them like they'd mastered some trick he couldn't yet manage. He could still see Sirius cupping his palm over baby Harry's head with a kind of fierce tenderness Remus had never seen on his face before.
He'd been jealous, already on the edges by then, well and truly outside the circle James and Lily and Sirius made with Harry. Peter had been on the outside, too, but Remus hadn't noticed at the time, possibly because he was spending so much time looking in.
That didn't seem wise to say, though. He shrugged one shoulder. "I always thought James was the one chasing."
"It always looks like that, with girls," Sirius said darkly.
"Eleven years is enough time to decide to get caught."
"Moony, I'm not sure I even like girls. I certainly wasn't interested in marrying one of them."
"Be serious," Remus said, and then added after a pause. "Are you being serious?"
Sirius shrugged. "Maybe. I mean, I spent three years shagging you, it's not like you didn't know I was bent --"
"You liked girls fine in school."
"That was in school."
"And when we were doing -- whatever it was we were doing -- it was right after school. How was I to know you'd changed your mind about girls?"
"I'm not sure I knew. Anyway, what about you? You never paid any attention to girls in school, and I keep catching you looking at Dora's tits."
"I think she goes by Tonks, these days," Remus said calmly. "And I don't look at her breasts. Just at her hands, sometimes. She has nice hands."
"My God, Moony and a girl," Sirius said. "I'm not sure I can cope with this, Moony. I mean, I know you're getting to a certain age, but couldn't you just lust after a racing broom, or something else that would be marginally like you?"
"There was a girl, for a while," Remus said. It was always hard to remember there were things Sirius didn't know, and usually awkward to tell him. "She had good hands, too. She knew I didn't usually go for women, but she didn't usually go for men, either, and she said that made it all right. It was one of those odd things."
He shrugged. "She had short hair and a leather jacket and reminded me a bit of you." He wanted to stop there, but felt he had to add for honesty's sake, "But it wasn't just about that."
Sirius was studying his face. "What happened?"
"She was a Muggle. I couldn't tell her the truth, and she got tired of the lies."
"You see," Sirius said after a pause. "Women are trouble."
"There were a few men, too. That didn't go any better."
"You've been busy," Sirius said, with a crooked smile.
"Well, it's not as if you were around --"
"That's not my fault."
"I know," Remus said. He didn't really want to have this conversation, but he wasn't sure how to stop. "It was just hard. Things were hard after you weren't around." He could still feel a ghost of the old anger like a clenched fist in his stomach every month, every full moon he spent alone. "I should never have thought it was your fault."
"We weren't going to start that," Sirius said, and Remus nodded gratefully. They could tear each other to shreds trying to parcel out blame for the year before James and Lily died, or they could leave it alone. So far, they'd chosen to leave it alone.
The silence dragged out, though, and Remus couldn't help himself. "You know, that year -- 1981, I mean, when it was all going bad -- I kept seeing you at Order meetings and things, talking to James and Lily or holding Harry, and there was this whole part of your life going on without me in it. You kept looking at James and Lily and Harry like they had something you wanted --"
"They had Harry," Sirius said. "And then so did I. That was the point of being his godfather. And they had each other. And I didn't have you."
"When you did have me, we weren't like that --"
"I didn't care," Sirius said. "I didn't like fighting all the time, except sometimes I did, because everything was shit and at least I could shout at you and have you shout back and know that nothing was going to break that we couldn't fix. And we had sex a lot. And we ate takeaway too much, and you went out to get it wearing my coat when you couldn't find your own, and, fuck, Moony, what else did you think I wanted? What did you want?"
"I wanted you to have something to keep." It was easier than saying I wanted something of yours to keep, although no less true. Watching Sirius with Harry made him ache, sometimes. It had even before Lily and James were gone; Remus still remembered Sirius's wondering hand on Harry's tiny head, baby Harry tucked into the curve of his arm, his head cradled in black leather.
Sometimes Sirius looked at Harry and saw James, Remus knew; other times, Remus wasn't sure what he saw. A future, maybe. Whatever anyone saw in their child's eyes.
"I had you and James and a flying motorbike and a flat in London and pubs on Saturday night," Sirius said. "And now I've got Harry, and I couldn't ask for a better godson, and if he were mine I'd just worry that he was going to end up as mad as most of the rest of my family. And you're still my friend, I think --"
"Always," Remus said. They were lying face to face, their knees just touching. He could feel the warmth of Sirius's breath on his skin. "Always that."
"So I can't complain. As soon as I get out of here, I'll have Harry to live with me, and you can have your own room, and if you want to shag women I'll try not to act like that's horrible and wrong, although it is --"
"And what if I don't want my own room?"
Sirius smiled crookedly. "Well, it might be safer. Given that we don't have James's couch anymore. I suppose I could always go sleep with Harry if you throw me out of bed -- as a dog, I mean, don't look at me like that."
"For God's sake, Sirius," Remus said, and then laughed, and then couldn't seem to stop even though the sound was turning into something nearer to tears. Sirius pulled him into a rough hug, a little more chaste than Remus thought either of them wanted it to be but still comforting.
"You can't stay on the outside this time, all right? I won't let you be alone again. And Harry could probably use some sort of good influence."
"He probably could," Remus said. "Since I'm sure you'll teach him everything you know."
"If I have enough time," Sirius said quietly. He didn't let go, but his grip eased a little, and he relaxed against Remus. They still fit together, their breathing slowing toward the same steady rhythm, their bodies curved against each other.
Remus wanted to say you'll be all right, I'll be all right, Harry will be all right, but he didn't think easy lies were what Sirius wanted. "He's lucky to have you," Remus said.
"I'm the lucky one," Sirius said. "And although it's possible that evidence to the contrary will present itself, I really suspect women are not for me. You're not actually going to try to breed me like a stud dog, are you?"
"You'd have handsome puppies. I could probably get a good price."
"I'm sure you could," Sirius said, and settled down against him. "They'd be very good-natured."
Remus buried his fingers in Sirius's hair; it felt almost as good as petting Padfoot, and made Sirius close his eyes. "Not very obedient. Too strong-willed."
"If they take after me, they should be."
"They'd likely find a way to get whatever they wanted," Remus said, letting just a hint of a question into the words.
"They would," Sirius said, and wrapped his hand firmly around Remus's wrist. "If they take after me." Remus lay listening to Sirius's quiet breathing for a while. "And what about what you want?" Sirius asked quietly, some time after Remus had decided he was asleep.
"I have what I want," Remus said, and closed his eyes, trying to hold onto this moment, resting warm together in the candlelight, something to keep.