Harry Potter fics starring Sirius and Remus
Title: Sun Showers
Authors: Teshumai
Rating: PG
Summary: A Black never shows weakness.
“Sirius, Andromeda, may I speak with you privately?” Dumbledore requested as soon as he entered the small house that they had been using for their headquarters ever since the last one had been destroyed. Sirius and Andromeda glanced at each other as they followed Dumbledore into the study.
“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the two comfortable looking armchairs across from a dark wooden desk before sitting down behind the desk himself. “I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but we’ve received information from a source inside that,” here he turned his head to Sirius, “your brother, Regulus, has passed away. I can understand that this must be very difficult for you and if you wish to talk about it I assure you I am here for you.”
“Thank you sir, is that all?” Sirius cut in.
“Yes, that was everything,” Dumbledore answered a little put off at the cool manner that the two seemed to be taking the news.
“Wonderful, we won’t be taking up anymore of you time than, sir.” Andromeda stood and briskly walked out of the room. She kept up the pace through the house despite Ted following close behind asking what had happened until she slammed the bathroom door in his face. After that the only thing that could be heard was the thundering of water filling the tub.
Sirius, on the other hand, sought out Moody, the man in charge of assignments for the younger members of the Order. “I want a mission.”
Moody leaned forward and stared into Sirius’ eyes for what seemed to be an eternity and then some before sitting back down in his chair, “No.”
“What do you mean no!”
“I mean no, you’re clearly in no condition to handle any kind of mission. If I let you go you’ll just end up getting yourself killed. And whose ever with you I might add.”
“I’m fine! Give me a mission.”
“I said no. That’s final.”
Sirius bit his tongue to keep himself to launching an attack at the older man and stormed outside.
“Pads? Is everything ok?” The soft voice of Remus followed him down the yard.
“I’m fine!” Sirius snapped. Remus did not respond but stood silently behind him. “I said I’m fine!” Sirius whirled around knocking back the comforting hand Remus was extending.
“Ok, you’re fine.” Remus held up his hands stepping back.
“Don’t” Sirius growled.
“Don’t what?”
“That!” Sirius shouted shoving Remus, “Stop looking at me like that!” he shoved him again, “Like I’m something small,” and again, “something pitiable,” and again, “something weak,” he gripped Remus’ shirt the soft cotton twisting between his fingers as he pushed him backwards, “I’m not, I’m not!”
The sensation of something warm and wet stopped Sirius suddenly and he stared at the drop of water rolling down his hand and under his wrist, “When did it start raining?”
“Sirius, it’s not,” Remus began before he was cut off.
“Yes it is. It has to be. It has to be. I can’t, I can’t be-”
“Oh Pads,” Remus whispered his eyes softening as he wrapped his arms around his friend. “It’s pouring, it’s practically a thunderstorm.” He assured the other, hesitating a moment before pushing on, “since, since it’s already raining so hard, if, you know, if you wanted to cry it’d be ok. No one would know.” Sirius stiffened in his arms at first and than his body melted against Remus’ who could only hold on tighter to the shaking shoulders as the two of them collapsed to the ground and his neck was quickly drenched in the downpour.
Title: Scars
Rating: PG
Summary: Sirius notices a scar on Remus' arm which leads to questions.
Disclaimer: Still don't own things. Really wish I did.
A/N: This was inspired by the question on a forum of "does Remus have scars and if so what do they look like?"
It was unusually warm for early spring that afternoon, which is what Sirius blames for everything. They had all dressed for the bitter cold that the early morning frost had promised, layering long colored shirts, sweater vests, and robes. By the final agonizing period in the sweltering greenhouse the extra layers had been shed. Robes and sweaters draped haphazardly over chair backs, the hems dragging in the dirt, and sleeves had been pushed, rolled, and charmed as high as they could go.
Sirius doesn’t notice it until the class was over and everyone is gathering their things and rushing out of the room, eager to change into lighter clothes and enjoy the rare weather. Luckily almost everyone is gone and those who are left are too busy trying to locate where their sweaters had gone to notice him noticing the tip of a pale scar peeking out from under Remus’ rolled up sleeve.
“Shit, Remus, what happened?” He reaches over pulling the arm to him and pushing the sleeve up higher, revealing the beginning of three more scars but no ends.
“Nothing, it’s really old.” Remus pulls his arm back and pushes his sleeve down covering all four of them.
Sirius, however, is not so easily dissuaded. Dropping his voice he presses on, “They look like claws, I thought you said Moony didn’t leave scars.”
“They aren’t from Moony,” Remus assures, his eyes focused on the books he has already put away, a sign, Sirius recalls, that he is leaving something out.
“Remus…” he starts, unsure of what question to ask to get the answer he wants. It’s something he always has to do with Remus, ask just the right the question in just the right way or else all he gets are half-truths and evasions. But it’s hard to do when he doesn’t know the answer already.
“James is probably waiting for us.” Remus reminds him.
“How come I’ve never seen them before?” Sirius asks finally, ignoring Remus’ attempt to move them away from the greenhouse and subject at hand.
Remus shrugs, “I guess you just haven’t noticed?”
Sirius would agree normally, but the truth is he would notice, because he notices too many things about Remus. The amount of time he spends noticing things about Remus concerns him in fact. It’s not normal. So he knows that that can’t be true, it's not as though he can say that of course. That would be creepy.
“They look really bad though, you’d think one of us would have...” Sirius trails off, because for all his noticing he hadn’t realized it until just now, “You don’t ever change in front of us. In four years you’ve never been without at least a shirt.”
Remus backs up a step, looking at the door and biting his lip. “Look it’s nothing alright. I just didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of a few scars.”
“Well too bad, I’m making a big deal out of it. Where are they from?”
Remus’ hands curl around the wood of the chair and his eyes dart around the room before he lets go and he replies with a weird little half smile: “Wolves aren’t like vampires we don’t choose who we want to turn, sometimes dinner just gets lucky.”
Sirius takes a moment to figure it out, working through Remus’ answer that isn’t an answer but actually is if you can just figure out what it means. Remus meanwhile is almost out the door. It’s swinging open before he’s pulled back into the room and pressed against the wall with Sirius pulling at the buttons of his shirt.
“Are there more?”
“Yes.” Remus hasn’t met his eyes for a while now. Instead they seem to alight on just about anything else in the room.
“Let me see.” Sirius demands, he is halfway done with the buttons. “I want to see.” He tries again when Remus makes no response one-way or the other. Finally Remus moves, gently pushing Sirius off him and stepping away from the wall. He reaches down and finishes unbuttoning his shirt sliding it off to drape over the nearest chair his t-shirt following. He still doesn’t look at Sirius who is mesmerized by the smooth expanse of pale chest. There are a few more scars, most of them criss crossing over his left shoulder with a few coming down his arms and wrapping around his side never coming very far in.
Slowly Sirius turns Remus around searching his back, which is oddly perfectly smooth. All of the scars from his front stop on the same line down his side and nothing comes over his collarbone.
“They said I was very smart, to protect my stomach and chest. It probably saved my life.” Sirius jumps when Remus starts talking. “They had to regrow the muscle tissue on my back and the skin, but that’s easy enough, and since there was so little skin left I don’t have any scars either.”
There’s something odd in Remus’ voice. Sirius can’t tell what it was exactly but it sounds wrong.
“My shoulder, where I was bit, was harder. The bone had been crushed and all the flesh torn away. They said I was really lucky, a few centimeters closer and he would have probably torn my throat out.”
Sirius gets it. It was the bone crushing line that did it. He knows what was wrong with Remus’ voice: nothing. He is talking with the exact same inflection he uses when explaining a particularly boring potion. Sirius isn’t sure what exactly prompted him to move, whether it was hearing just how close he had come to never knowing Remus or hearing that awful emotionless tone, but he wraps his arms around Remus, pulling him close and leaning his head down on the other boy’s shoulder.
“It was a long time ago Sirius, you don’t need to fret about it.”
“Don’t care.” Sirius mumbles into Remus’ scarred shoulder hugging him tighter.
“Really, it’s fine now. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Sirius shakes his head, “You don’t have to be, it’s ok if you’re not.”
He feels Remus stiffen under him, “I said I was fine.”
“Well I’m not.” Sirius argues, his grip loosening as Remus turns himself around so they were facing each other, their eyes meeting for the first time. Moving on instinct Sirius leans forward his lips pressing against Remus’ for half a second. “I’m not ok with you being hurt, even if it was a long time ago. I don’t like it.” He steps away and moves towards the door. It clicks closed behind him.
Title: You In My Mind.
Rating: PG
Summery: This how I see us
I’m not sure when I first began to look at you this way. The realization came to me very slowly and one day I simply knew as though I had always known. It hasn’t always been this way. There was a time when you were simply Remus, but I can’t sort out when that was. Every moment I remember is colored by the way I see you now. I don’t mind not really, but it’ll be horribly cliché for me to say I’ve felt this way since I first met you if you ever ask. Not that you ever would.
Feelings aren’t for you. That’s more my style, an explosion of emotion all the time. Though I suppose you know it doesn’t mean anything, that’s why you never pay any attention to the hearts on my sleeves. They’re not real. You never felt the need to put on a show, though. You just hide behind a poker face. That’s the better option, sometimes my heart slips out and crawls onto my sleeve and it’s out there for the world to see. You don’t notice or if you do you pretend not to.
At first I thought I had found a kindred soul in you. When we first discovered you were a werewolf I was happy. You would understand, I thought. We both had this ugly thing inside us we couldn’t always control. It liked hurting people, especially people too weak to fight back. It when there was no one around to lash out at it would turn on us. But I was wrong. You’re a werewolf, the thing inside isn’t you, and you’re nothing like it. I am the monster in me and I’m not good enough to be anything but your pet.
When we finally discovered our animagus forms, I wasn’t surprised. I’d always been your dog. I know when people look at us they see James and I, bestest buddies, blood brothers, and hellions. You and Peter follow us around, the sidekicks, and the shadows. You aren’t though. You own me. Anything you say I obey, like a good dog. I’ve mastered all the commands: sit, lie down, roll over, beg, come, stay.
I don’t mind, though. I love it actually. I get be this close to you, curled up on your bed as you pet my hair. I can never be your equal but I can yours.
“Sirius?” You ask if I’m still awake.
I want to answer but I’m too tired and relaxed to form full sentences. “Mm,” is all I can manage.
“Just go to sleep.” Your voice sounds as though you’re smiling and I obey letting myself float farther from the here and now. I’m not sure how long it’s been that I’ve been drifting between blissful oblivion and half consciousness when I hear you speaking again.
“I know what you think of all this.” You’re fingers brush my cheek. “And you’re wrong. I can never gather the courage to say this when you’re awake, terrible Gryffindor, me. But, you're not as horrible as you think, and neither am I. I'm sorry I let you go on thinking I don't care about you. You deserve so much better, and the truth is I need you, no, I love you."
I shift and your hand freezes, pulling away from my face. When I feel it again it is shaking my shoulder and your voice is telling me to get up and go to my own bed. I nodded rolling off the bed and stumbling the few feet to my cold comforter. It’s not the first time I’ve dreamt that, I never know whether to hope it is the last or to hope the dream continues when my head rests on my own pillow. Neither ever happens.
Authors: Teshumai
Rating: PG
Summary: A Black never shows weakness.
“Sirius, Andromeda, may I speak with you privately?” Dumbledore requested as soon as he entered the small house that they had been using for their headquarters ever since the last one had been destroyed. Sirius and Andromeda glanced at each other as they followed Dumbledore into the study.
“Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the two comfortable looking armchairs across from a dark wooden desk before sitting down behind the desk himself. “I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but we’ve received information from a source inside that,” here he turned his head to Sirius, “your brother, Regulus, has passed away. I can understand that this must be very difficult for you and if you wish to talk about it I assure you I am here for you.”
“Thank you sir, is that all?” Sirius cut in.
“Yes, that was everything,” Dumbledore answered a little put off at the cool manner that the two seemed to be taking the news.
“Wonderful, we won’t be taking up anymore of you time than, sir.” Andromeda stood and briskly walked out of the room. She kept up the pace through the house despite Ted following close behind asking what had happened until she slammed the bathroom door in his face. After that the only thing that could be heard was the thundering of water filling the tub.
Sirius, on the other hand, sought out Moody, the man in charge of assignments for the younger members of the Order. “I want a mission.”
Moody leaned forward and stared into Sirius’ eyes for what seemed to be an eternity and then some before sitting back down in his chair, “No.”
“What do you mean no!”
“I mean no, you’re clearly in no condition to handle any kind of mission. If I let you go you’ll just end up getting yourself killed. And whose ever with you I might add.”
“I’m fine! Give me a mission.”
“I said no. That’s final.”
Sirius bit his tongue to keep himself to launching an attack at the older man and stormed outside.
“Pads? Is everything ok?” The soft voice of Remus followed him down the yard.
“I’m fine!” Sirius snapped. Remus did not respond but stood silently behind him. “I said I’m fine!” Sirius whirled around knocking back the comforting hand Remus was extending.
“Ok, you’re fine.” Remus held up his hands stepping back.
“Don’t” Sirius growled.
“Don’t what?”
“That!” Sirius shouted shoving Remus, “Stop looking at me like that!” he shoved him again, “Like I’m something small,” and again, “something pitiable,” and again, “something weak,” he gripped Remus’ shirt the soft cotton twisting between his fingers as he pushed him backwards, “I’m not, I’m not!”
The sensation of something warm and wet stopped Sirius suddenly and he stared at the drop of water rolling down his hand and under his wrist, “When did it start raining?”
“Sirius, it’s not,” Remus began before he was cut off.
“Yes it is. It has to be. It has to be. I can’t, I can’t be-”
“Oh Pads,” Remus whispered his eyes softening as he wrapped his arms around his friend. “It’s pouring, it’s practically a thunderstorm.” He assured the other, hesitating a moment before pushing on, “since, since it’s already raining so hard, if, you know, if you wanted to cry it’d be ok. No one would know.” Sirius stiffened in his arms at first and than his body melted against Remus’ who could only hold on tighter to the shaking shoulders as the two of them collapsed to the ground and his neck was quickly drenched in the downpour.
Title: Scars
Rating: PG
Summary: Sirius notices a scar on Remus' arm which leads to questions.
Disclaimer: Still don't own things. Really wish I did.
A/N: This was inspired by the question on a forum of "does Remus have scars and if so what do they look like?"
It was unusually warm for early spring that afternoon, which is what Sirius blames for everything. They had all dressed for the bitter cold that the early morning frost had promised, layering long colored shirts, sweater vests, and robes. By the final agonizing period in the sweltering greenhouse the extra layers had been shed. Robes and sweaters draped haphazardly over chair backs, the hems dragging in the dirt, and sleeves had been pushed, rolled, and charmed as high as they could go.
Sirius doesn’t notice it until the class was over and everyone is gathering their things and rushing out of the room, eager to change into lighter clothes and enjoy the rare weather. Luckily almost everyone is gone and those who are left are too busy trying to locate where their sweaters had gone to notice him noticing the tip of a pale scar peeking out from under Remus’ rolled up sleeve.
“Shit, Remus, what happened?” He reaches over pulling the arm to him and pushing the sleeve up higher, revealing the beginning of three more scars but no ends.
“Nothing, it’s really old.” Remus pulls his arm back and pushes his sleeve down covering all four of them.
Sirius, however, is not so easily dissuaded. Dropping his voice he presses on, “They look like claws, I thought you said Moony didn’t leave scars.”
“They aren’t from Moony,” Remus assures, his eyes focused on the books he has already put away, a sign, Sirius recalls, that he is leaving something out.
“Remus…” he starts, unsure of what question to ask to get the answer he wants. It’s something he always has to do with Remus, ask just the right the question in just the right way or else all he gets are half-truths and evasions. But it’s hard to do when he doesn’t know the answer already.
“James is probably waiting for us.” Remus reminds him.
“How come I’ve never seen them before?” Sirius asks finally, ignoring Remus’ attempt to move them away from the greenhouse and subject at hand.
Remus shrugs, “I guess you just haven’t noticed?”
Sirius would agree normally, but the truth is he would notice, because he notices too many things about Remus. The amount of time he spends noticing things about Remus concerns him in fact. It’s not normal. So he knows that that can’t be true, it's not as though he can say that of course. That would be creepy.
“They look really bad though, you’d think one of us would have...” Sirius trails off, because for all his noticing he hadn’t realized it until just now, “You don’t ever change in front of us. In four years you’ve never been without at least a shirt.”
Remus backs up a step, looking at the door and biting his lip. “Look it’s nothing alright. I just didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of a few scars.”
“Well too bad, I’m making a big deal out of it. Where are they from?”
Remus’ hands curl around the wood of the chair and his eyes dart around the room before he lets go and he replies with a weird little half smile: “Wolves aren’t like vampires we don’t choose who we want to turn, sometimes dinner just gets lucky.”
Sirius takes a moment to figure it out, working through Remus’ answer that isn’t an answer but actually is if you can just figure out what it means. Remus meanwhile is almost out the door. It’s swinging open before he’s pulled back into the room and pressed against the wall with Sirius pulling at the buttons of his shirt.
“Are there more?”
“Yes.” Remus hasn’t met his eyes for a while now. Instead they seem to alight on just about anything else in the room.
“Let me see.” Sirius demands, he is halfway done with the buttons. “I want to see.” He tries again when Remus makes no response one-way or the other. Finally Remus moves, gently pushing Sirius off him and stepping away from the wall. He reaches down and finishes unbuttoning his shirt sliding it off to drape over the nearest chair his t-shirt following. He still doesn’t look at Sirius who is mesmerized by the smooth expanse of pale chest. There are a few more scars, most of them criss crossing over his left shoulder with a few coming down his arms and wrapping around his side never coming very far in.
Slowly Sirius turns Remus around searching his back, which is oddly perfectly smooth. All of the scars from his front stop on the same line down his side and nothing comes over his collarbone.
“They said I was very smart, to protect my stomach and chest. It probably saved my life.” Sirius jumps when Remus starts talking. “They had to regrow the muscle tissue on my back and the skin, but that’s easy enough, and since there was so little skin left I don’t have any scars either.”
There’s something odd in Remus’ voice. Sirius can’t tell what it was exactly but it sounds wrong.
“My shoulder, where I was bit, was harder. The bone had been crushed and all the flesh torn away. They said I was really lucky, a few centimeters closer and he would have probably torn my throat out.”
Sirius gets it. It was the bone crushing line that did it. He knows what was wrong with Remus’ voice: nothing. He is talking with the exact same inflection he uses when explaining a particularly boring potion. Sirius isn’t sure what exactly prompted him to move, whether it was hearing just how close he had come to never knowing Remus or hearing that awful emotionless tone, but he wraps his arms around Remus, pulling him close and leaning his head down on the other boy’s shoulder.
“It was a long time ago Sirius, you don’t need to fret about it.”
“Don’t care.” Sirius mumbles into Remus’ scarred shoulder hugging him tighter.
“Really, it’s fine now. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”
Sirius shakes his head, “You don’t have to be, it’s ok if you’re not.”
He feels Remus stiffen under him, “I said I was fine.”
“Well I’m not.” Sirius argues, his grip loosening as Remus turns himself around so they were facing each other, their eyes meeting for the first time. Moving on instinct Sirius leans forward his lips pressing against Remus’ for half a second. “I’m not ok with you being hurt, even if it was a long time ago. I don’t like it.” He steps away and moves towards the door. It clicks closed behind him.
Title: You In My Mind.
Rating: PG
Summery: This how I see us
I’m not sure when I first began to look at you this way. The realization came to me very slowly and one day I simply knew as though I had always known. It hasn’t always been this way. There was a time when you were simply Remus, but I can’t sort out when that was. Every moment I remember is colored by the way I see you now. I don’t mind not really, but it’ll be horribly cliché for me to say I’ve felt this way since I first met you if you ever ask. Not that you ever would.
Feelings aren’t for you. That’s more my style, an explosion of emotion all the time. Though I suppose you know it doesn’t mean anything, that’s why you never pay any attention to the hearts on my sleeves. They’re not real. You never felt the need to put on a show, though. You just hide behind a poker face. That’s the better option, sometimes my heart slips out and crawls onto my sleeve and it’s out there for the world to see. You don’t notice or if you do you pretend not to.
At first I thought I had found a kindred soul in you. When we first discovered you were a werewolf I was happy. You would understand, I thought. We both had this ugly thing inside us we couldn’t always control. It liked hurting people, especially people too weak to fight back. It when there was no one around to lash out at it would turn on us. But I was wrong. You’re a werewolf, the thing inside isn’t you, and you’re nothing like it. I am the monster in me and I’m not good enough to be anything but your pet.
When we finally discovered our animagus forms, I wasn’t surprised. I’d always been your dog. I know when people look at us they see James and I, bestest buddies, blood brothers, and hellions. You and Peter follow us around, the sidekicks, and the shadows. You aren’t though. You own me. Anything you say I obey, like a good dog. I’ve mastered all the commands: sit, lie down, roll over, beg, come, stay.
I don’t mind, though. I love it actually. I get be this close to you, curled up on your bed as you pet my hair. I can never be your equal but I can yours.
“Sirius?” You ask if I’m still awake.
I want to answer but I’m too tired and relaxed to form full sentences. “Mm,” is all I can manage.
“Just go to sleep.” Your voice sounds as though you’re smiling and I obey letting myself float farther from the here and now. I’m not sure how long it’s been that I’ve been drifting between blissful oblivion and half consciousness when I hear you speaking again.
“I know what you think of all this.” You’re fingers brush my cheek. “And you’re wrong. I can never gather the courage to say this when you’re awake, terrible Gryffindor, me. But, you're not as horrible as you think, and neither am I. I'm sorry I let you go on thinking I don't care about you. You deserve so much better, and the truth is I need you, no, I love you."
I shift and your hand freezes, pulling away from my face. When I feel it again it is shaking my shoulder and your voice is telling me to get up and go to my own bed. I nodded rolling off the bed and stumbling the few feet to my cold comforter. It’s not the first time I’ve dreamt that, I never know whether to hope it is the last or to hope the dream continues when my head rests on my own pillow. Neither ever happens.