~Sonnet 17~

As dawn's ethereal light spread over the hills surrounding Hogwarts Castle, most of the inhabitants were smiling softly in their sleep, dreaming of the love the day just might bring. Sirius Black stretched and rubbed his groggy eyes, then fell to the dormitory floor as his best friend James Potter tugged on his blankets. The ritual had been observed every single morning since their first at the castle -- Sirius was most definitely not a morning person -- and it seemed to be an essential part of their day now. Sirius groaned and flapped feebly at James' prodding fingers, but the smile stayed.

"Get off me, Jay, I'm awake!" he said. James sat back on his heels until he was sure Sirius was getting up, then went back to his own bed to get dressed.

"Good dream?" James asked, giving Sirius a knowing, slightly lecherous grin.

"What makes you say that?"

"You're grinning like the Cheshire cat."

Sirius rooted through his chest of drawers until he found what he was looking for. He held up a pair of boxer shorts, black silk with red hearts, and both boys burst out laughing. Sirius pulled the shorts on.

"Course I am. It's Valentine’s Day!" He breathed a near-orgasmic sigh. "What are Christmas and birthdays compared to today? Nothing!"

Sirius dragged a comb through his long black hair. James didn't bother -- combing his messy thatch just seemed to increase the number of tangles in it -- and he couldn’t see why Sirius did either. Sirius was stunning whatever he did -- in fact, his just-got-out-of-bed look was something most of the school wanted to see. He was the typical tall, dark, handsome dream man. To be honest, he played on his looks slightly and was never without a date, but he got away with it because he was so utterly charming. His smile alone was enough to knock a nun dead at twenty paces. James rolled his eyes and smiled as Sirius eventually deemed himself ready to be seen in public.

"Where’s Remus?" Sirius asked as he and James went down to the common room.
"I’m here," came a quiet voice from near the fire. Sirius bounded over and hugged his other best friend so tightly that Remus had to shout and remind Sirius of his need for oxygen.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Moony!" Sirius yelled. Remus just gave him a look.

"You treat every day like Valentine’s Day, Sirius," he said. He was trying to sound stern, but... damn that charm! No one could stay stern when Sirius was flashing that knock-'em-dead smile. Remus grinned back and picked up his bag. "C'mon, we’ll be late for breakfast."

James found his girlfriend Lily, who was looking exceptionally beautiful in carefully-applied make up for the special day, in a group of tittering girls, and the four made their way down to the Great Hall.

"How many cards d’you think you’ll get?" Lily asked the boys.

"I’d better get at least one," James said. "After that... well, any others won’t count, will they?"

Sirius and Remus shared an amused glance as James swept Lily backwards over his arm and kissed her dramatically. "You two are so cute!" Sirius said, patting James’ head in a mock-patronising manner when he finally came up for air with a slightly goofy expression on his face. "Of course they’ll count. You don’t have to pay much attention to them, but still... it’s nice to get a bit of recognition for your perfection, isn’t it?"

"Perfection?" Remus said. "Honestly, Sirius... for all your supreme intelligence, you can be really thick sometimes. You get all those cards because everyone wants to get in your pants, not because you’re perfect."

"Yeah. They want to get in my pants because I’m perfect," Sirius said smugly. He thrust his bag at James and pulled his robes and shirt up. "Regard the perfect body. See ho..."

"Mr Black!" someone yelled. Sirius dropped his robe down quickly and looked around.

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall!" he said brightly. "Lovely day for it, isn’t it?" The deputy headmistress raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at his crooked robe, and Sirius went on hurriedly. "Oh, no! I don’t mean for it! I mean... for the weather. You know?"

"Yes, Mr Black, I know," McGonagall said. James, Lily and Remus looked at Sirius in utter amazement as McGonagall’s usually acerbic tone softened in the light of their friend’s smile.

"Brown-noser," James muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Sirius chose to ignore him.

"I also know, Sirius, that breakfast is getting cold. Along to the Hall, if you please." McGonagall turned and went down the stairs to the main Entrance Hall.

"I detest you, Sirius," James said cheerfully, tossing the bag back. "Sirius! Honestly! I didn’t think she even knew anyone’s first name. It’s always Potter this and Lupin that and Black the other..."

They got to the Great Hall and took their usual seats up near the staff table. "That’s him!" whispered a blushing Hufflepuff second year to her friend when Sirius passed.

"At least one for me then, Lil," Sirius muttered. He smiled at the girl, and she just about choked on her bacon. Sirius reached over and thumped her on the back. "You okay?" he asked. The girl nodded, practically glowing with embarrassment, and Sirius turned back to his own table.

"Aren’t you eating?" James asked, as he piled his plate high with bacon and eggs and sausages and toast. Sirius shook his head.

"Nah, not hungry." He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently and looked at the ceiling. Remus tutted and shoved a piece of buttered toast in Sirius’ mouth.

"Rubbish. You’re too bothered about the post to worry about your stomach, but if you don’t eat you’ll just complain all morning that you’re starving."

Sirius shrugged and accepted the toast. He didn’t join the conversation the others were having about the next Quidditch match; instead, he carried on looking expectantly at the little door in the corner of the ceiling. After what seemed like hours, it finally opened and owls flooded in.

"About bloody time!" he yelled, jumping out of his seat. He sat down again quickly at the look on McGonagall’s face, and before long the owls were delivering all over the room.

"Sirius!" Remus hissed, holding up a tiny, soggy owl. "Get your mail out of my pumpkin juice!"

Sirius took the owl and put it down in front of him. There were at least thirty-five owls crowding around his plate, all fighting for his attention and bacon rinds.

"Get in a line, please," he commanded. The owls just hooted indignantly and stuck their legs under his nose, so he untied all the cards and scrolls quickly and the birds flew away, leaving feathers (and worse) all over their stretch of the table.

"Damn good thing we’d finished eating," Remus grumbled. He opened his three cards quietly as James and Lily kissed and Sirius worked his way through what seemed like an entire library.

"How many’d you get?" James asked after a while.

"This is the thirty-seventh," Sirius said. "The fourteenth ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, you are so hot, I wanna screw you’ verse I got."

"Tasteful," Remus commented dryly.

"Last one now," Sirius said, ignoring his friend and picking up the last scroll. He looked at it carefully before he opened it because it seemed... well, it looked as if whoever sent it had put a lot of thought into it. The parchment was the golden-yellow shade of honey, and it was rolled up tightly, capped at each end with beautifully carved circles of wood, and sealed in the middle with a blob of red wax. There was no marking on the wax, so Sirius broke it and unrolled the parchment.

The verse was written in a blood-red script, but by the end Sirius wasn’t interested in how it looked. He felt his throat constrict slightly and suddenly had to swallow around a lump that felt roughly the size and weight of a Bludger.

"Sirius? What does it say?" Lily asked curiously.

Sirius swallowed again and managed to recite the verse.

Who will believe my verse in time to come
If it were filled with your most high deserts? –
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say 'This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne'er touched earthly faces.'
So should my papers, yellowed with their age,
Be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be termed a poet’s rage
And stretchèd metre of an antique song.
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice: in it, and in my rhyme.

There was silence when he finished, then James cleared his throat. "Wow," he said weakly. "Someone’s got it really bad for you, Sirius.
"
"What exactly does it mean?" Remus asked, shifting his seat along a little so he could peer at the poem.

"I’m..." Sirius frowned slightly and bit his lip. "I’m not sure, actually," he admitted. He read it again silently, but it wasn’t any less beautiful. He voiced his thoughts to his friends, who looked just as awe-struck as him. "It’s... well, I don’t know what to say. Wow. It’s gorgeous." His voice trailed off and he read it for a third time.

"Come on, we need to get to Transfiguration," Lily said faintly. Sirius nodded mutely. He shoved all but one of his cards into his bag; the last scroll he rolled up and held tight in his hand, clutching it to his chest as if having it near his heart would impart some of its meaning to him.

Professor McGonagall waved the four into the Transfiguration classroom impatiently -- they were a minute or two late -- and before long they were seated around a desk at the back of the classroom. Everyone was talking quietly as they got on with the surprisingly fun task of turning water into Butterbeer, and James, Lily, Remus and Sirius took the chance to discuss Sirius’ valentine.

"Who’s it from?" Sirius wondered out loud. He inspected every inch of the parchment, but there was no name, not even an initial. The others shrugged.

"Can I see it again?" Lily asked, holding her hand out. Sirius gave it over, albeit grudgingly, and Lily read it again. "Okay, let’s decipher it. Maybe it’ll give us some clue as to who sent it." The others crowded round. "Right, the first bit’s easy," Lily declared. "Desert in this means, like, value. So basically, the first part says ‘if I filled this poem with your value no one would believe it in the future’. Cute."

Sirius took it back. "Though yet, heaven knows, it is but a tomb which hides your life, and shows not half your pants," he read. James laughed and Sirius re-read it quickly. "Parts. Sorry," he said, with a crooked grin. "It’s this writing, it’s too curly! So, parts. This bit’s likening the poem to a tomb and me to the body inside, right? The poem can’t describe my life, and can’t even show half of what I am. See?" he added to Remus. "I’m too perfect for words."

"And too cocky for your own good," Remus muttered.

James grabbed the parchment and stood up, reciting the next few lines in a haughty, theatrical voice, rolling his ‘r’s dramatically. "If I could write the beauty of your eyes and in fresh numbers number all your graces, the age to come would say ‘This poet lies; such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces.’" He finished by batting his eyelashes and pouting at Sirius, getting contemptuous glances from the Slytherins for his efforts. Lily giggled and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back into his seat.

"That bit’s easy too," James said. "It’s all easy. I think it probably just seemed a bit daunting when it was all together. So, these lines say ‘If I could describe the beauty of your eyes and list everything good about you, people who read it in the future’d be like, yeah, right, okay. This poet’s a liar. How can a person be so god-like?’ And you can stop looking smug, Sirius. Just ‘cause some pre-pubescent girl thinks you’re a god, doesn’t mean we all have to."

"Pre-pubescent?" Remus and Sirius said in unison. "I doubt a pre-pubescent girl could come up with something like this," Remus commented. James shrugged.
"Whatever. I just thought it’d be a good idea to burst Sirius’ inflamed head before it filled the whole room." He winked at his friend to show him he was joking, and Sirius snatched the parchment back, pretending to be affronted.

"So should my papers, yellowed with their age, be scorned, like old men of less truth than tongue, and your true rights be termed a poet’s rage and stretchèd metre of an antique song," he recited. "That links with the last bit. Papers yellowed with age -- the poem -- would be laughed at and disbelieved like old men who gossip or exaggerate, and my ‘true rights’ -- that’s perfection, Remus -- would be seen as flowery poetic hippie rubbish."

Remus leaned over and read the last two lines out. "’But were some child of yours alive that time, you should live twice: in it, and in my rhyme.’ That means, if you had kids sometime in the future... god forbid they grow up as vain as their father... you’d be alive in them and the poem."

"So." Sirius handed the parchment to Lily. "Translate the whole thing for us, Lil."

"Okay. If I wrote about your value in this poem no one would believe it in the future. The poem’s like a tomb around you. The words aren’t enough to describe your life or enough about you -- so, tomb because it hides what you’re all about. Um... if I could write about the beauty of your eyes and list everything that’s good about you, people in the future would call the poet a liar and say such heavenly perfection would never be given to a mortal. The poem would be ridiculed and your real goodness would be seen as a poet’s exaggeration, but if you ever had children, you’d live on twice -- in your descendants and in the poem."

There was a pause, then Remus said lightly, "I prefer the original version."
"Me too," Sirius said quietly. He read it once again -- he wasn’t sure why, because he’d read it so many times already he’d memorised it. "I wish I knew who wrote it," he said wistfully.

"William Shakespeare," said a cold voice. Sirius jerked up in his seat, startled. Slytherins never spoke to Gryffindors in class, unless it was a cutting insult or vicious curse, and Severus Snape speaking to one of the Marauders was as rare an occurrence as... well, the rarest thing ever.

"What, Snape?" Sirius said when he’d gathered himself. Snape sneered at him.
"On second thoughts, I’m not surprised you don’t know who wrote it. A slut like you can’t be expected to read classic love poetry, can you?"

Lily and Remus grabbed James and Sirius by the backs of their robes to keep them from attacking, and all four glared at Snape. He stared back, then turned away sullenly and poked his wand at his beaker of water without another word.

"Eavesdropping... slimy... ugly... bloody... hate him... Slytherins..." Sirius muttered furiously. Remus put a gentle, calming hand on his arm.

"He’s just jealous. I bet he didn’t get a single card. Don’t let him get to you." Sirius relaxed slightly. "And at least we know who wrote it now," Remus added. Sirius brightened.

"Yeah!"

~*~

Lunch was somewhat unnerving for Sirius. Everywhere he looked, someone was gazing at him. Girls kept giggling behind their hands when he walked past, and even the coolest, most laid-back boys in school turned into gibbering wrecks of hormones when they caught his eye.

"I’m going crazy, Remus!" Sirius muttered, keeping his eyes firmly on his plate and speaking to Remus out of the corner of his mouth. "Everyone’s looking at me. Even Snape and Malfoy are staring! What if one of them sent it?"

Remus shrugged nonchalantly. "You’re gorgeous, of course people are looking. You never minded before."

Sirius frowned a little, confused. "Well... no, I didn’t," he said eventually. "But it’s different now."

"How so?"

"The poem," Sirius said simply. He took the parchment out of his pocket and touched the huge, curly W in the top corner gently, running his fingers over it softly as if it was a person’s face. "I can’t get it out of my head. What if it was Snape or Malfoy? I’d kill myself!"

"You’re an over-the-top drama queen, Sirius," Remus said reproachfully. "First of all, you said earlier it’s nice to get a bit of recognition for your perfection. And secondly, do you really think Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy, of all people, would send you a Valentine?" Sirius shrugged, so Remus answered his own question. "Of course they wouldn’t. Stop being ridiculous."

Sirius breathed out slowly, and took a large gulp of water. "Okay, sorry. But who was it?" Remus shrugged. "I’m going crazy!" Sirius brightened suddenly as he saw a flash of blond hair at the Slytherin table. "Hey, maybe it was Narcissa!"

"And maybe my name’s Grindelwald," Remus said sarcastically. "Be realistic. She’s the only person in school who’s vainer than you are. She’d never give a Valentine out. She probably writes them to herself."

Sirius downed the rest of his drink, pushed his plate to one side, then let his head fall to the table with a loud thud. "Oww," he said in a muffled voice. "Where’s James?"

"Library. He said he and Lily are doing homework. I chose to interpret that as ‘leave us alone, Remus, I want to take advantage of today and snog my girlfriend silly in the love poem section’."

Sirius sat up with a start. "Love poem section?"

"Yeah." Remus took his time finishing his sandwich off, then continued. "It links in with love potions and horoscopes and mythology and stuff. It’s in the north corner."

"Oh, great!" Sirius stood up so quickly his chair screeched on the floor and nearly fell over. "I could kiss you sometimes, Remus, you know that?" He reached over the table and ruffled his friend’s hair; Remus scowled, but gave up when Sirius smiled. //Argh. I’m a sensible person, why can’t I ignore his bloody smiles?// Remus asked himself in exasperation.

"I’m going to look for more by this guy Shakespeare," Sirius said. "You coming?"
Remus shook his head. "No, I have to see Flitwick about some work. See you later."

Sirius hurried to the library. He smiled when he passed a dark, quiet aisle -- James and Lily were indeed kissing, but by the breathless giggles and murmurs they were sharing it sounded as if they’d be going somewhere more private soon... Sirius smiled to himself, but it was sad. He wanted that. What James and Lily had was so special. He wasn’t exactly jealous -- he loved them both too much to be jealous of the thing they shared -- but he craved love above all. Not kisses, not sex, but love. His reputation as a bit of a... he hated the word, but he couldn’t think of an alternative... slut was fuelled by his restless search for someone to call his own. His home life was strained and awkward -- his parents had never wanted a child and they told him over and over that he was an ‘accident’. That hurt, and the attention he sought from other people was a way to mask that pain.

But love, true love... Sirius sighed to himself as he found the poetry section he’d never even known the existence of before. True love was something he’d only ever read about in fairy tales or heard about from James and Lily. True love was something he wished for with the entirety of his being... and he felt a thrill of exhilaration as the words of the beautiful poem flashed through his mind. //That person loves me,// he thought. The notion almost seemed alien. The people he’d been with before hadn’t loved him. He’d tried to kid himself that they had, but if he was brutally honest with himself... being gorgeous and clever wasn’t as much of a blessing as people seemed to think it was. His lovers paraded him around like some sort of trophy, and he hated that. Lily didn’t treat James that way. His position as Quidditch captain didn’t impress her in the slightest -- she didn’t really care for the game -- and she was his equal in brains so he had nothing over her in that way either. Plus, of course, they were Head Boy and Girl. Equals. Soulmates. And Sirius wanted what they had.

"Shakespeare" he muttered under his breath as he found a section of heavy leather-bound books with that name on the spines. He pulled one out at random, opened it at random, and began reading out loud the first line his eye fell on. "’Deny thy father and refuse thy name, or if thou wilt not, be but sworn, my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.’"

"Shakespeare?"

The female voice startled Sirius, and he almost dropped the book. Professor McGonagall stepped into the light of the torch that was mounted on the wall, and smiled at him. "I didn’t know you were a fan of romantic literature, Mr Black."

"Uh... I’m not, really. At least, I wasn’t. I hadn’t even heard of Shakespeare until today."

McGonagall nodded. "Horribly overlooked by wizards, I’m afraid, but the Muggles give his work the praise and attention it deserves." She took one of the Shakespeare books from the shelf and opened it, smiling fondly down at the pages.

Sirius put his hand in his pocket and touched the parchment. He wondered whether he’d feel awkward showing it to his teacher.

//Only one way to find out,// he thought.

"Professor? Do you recognise this poem? Someone sent it to me this morning."

McGonagall replaced the book and took the parchment; she read the poem to herself then handed it back, her smile wider than ever and her eyes a little bright.

"You’re a lucky man, Mr Black," she said quietly. "That’s my favourite sonnet. Someone obviously loves you very much. Do you know who sent it?" Sirius shook his head. "That’s a shame." McGonagall ran her finger along the row of books, then selected one. "If you liked that, I recommend reading some more." Sirius took the book.

"Thanks, Professor." He began reading the first one, and quickly became lost in his own little world. McGonagall smiled again and left him to it.

The bell rang shortly after, signalling the end of the lunch break. Sirius checked the book out quickly and ran to Charms. He collapsed into his seat, red faced and breathless, and picked right up where he’d left off reading. James, Lily and Remus gave him quizzical looks but he ignored them. He was too caught up in the breathtaking beauty of the sonnets.

//I always knew love must be good... but this is beyond anything I ever imagined,// he thought in wonder.

Sirius turned one thick page, then let out a little gasp of surprise. There was a note tucked inside the book, with his name on it! He took a quick look around to make sure Professor Flitwick’s attention was elsewhere, then stuffed the parchment in his pocket. He went to close the book, but the sonnet on that page caught his attention... it was the one he’d been sent.

The rest of the lesson passed in a blur, and Sirius was happier than he’d ever been before that the second half of Friday afternoons was free for the seventh years. As soon as Flitwick dismissed the class, Sirius raced up to the dormitory, jumped onto his bed, pulled the curtains shut, and unfolded the note.

Sirius,
Forgive me for being so secretive. I do have my reasons, but I’d give myself away if I explained them here.
I’ll assume that your finding this note means you liked the sonnet I sent, and hopefully that means you wouldn’t object to meeting me?
Letters aren’t a good way of expressing emotions. I’ve kept my feelings about you inside me for so long, and I really need to tell someone about them. I’d love for that someone to be you. If you’re okay with that, meet me in the library tonight, at twelve o’ clock, in the poetry section.
Yours forever.

Sirius checked his watch. It was only just past three o’ clock. He groaned loudly and punched a pillow feebly in a half-hearted, pointless attempt to speed up time.

"Sirius?" came a voice. Sirius opened the curtains to find Remus looking at him warily. "Is anything wrong?"

"Yes. No. Not exactly." He groaned again, and Remus sat beside him. Sirius handed him the note, and Remus read it silently.

"I don’t see what the problem is," he said. "Don’t you want to find out who sent it?"

"Yes, of course I do! The problem is..."

His voice trailed off, and Remus broke into a wide smile. "You’re scared, aren’t you?" he said gleefully.

"No!"

"You are!"

"I’m... nervous," Sirius conceded. He pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them, staring across the room but not seeing anything except that beautiful red script, which was running through his mind and overlapping all other thoughts and images. "You’ve seen the poem, Remus," he said after a while. "Do you read as much into it as I do?"

"What d’you mean?"

"I mean..." Sirius breathed out slowly as he tried to find the right words. "If whoever sent it is telling the truth through this Shakespeare sonnet thing, then it sounds to me like he or she loves me. And... well, I don’t know." He paused again.

"And?" Remus prompted gently.

"And I’m scared," he admitted finally. "No one’s ever loved me before."

"Oh, Sirius..." Remus said reproachfully. "You’re being melodramatic again. Jay and Lily love you." He hesitated, then added, "I love you."

"It’s not enough," Sirius whispered. He lifted his head and looked his friend in the eye. "I want love, Remus, not just love. There’s a difference. And it seems like this person..." He gestured to the parchment, "loves me. And I’m scared, because I think I’d be ready to drop everything and love him or her back, because I need it. Do you know what I mean, or am I talking crap?"

After a slight pause, Remus said, "So you’d drop me and Jay for this person, no matter who it turned out to be?" He sounded a bit put out, and Sirius touched his arm.

"No, I didn’t mean it like that. I am talking crap, aren’t I?" He buried his face in his hands for a moment. "You and Jay mean everything to me and I love you, but I need love. I need what Jay and Lily have."

"But what if it’s Snape?" Remus asked, pulling a face. "He seemed very interested in Transfiguration. And he knew who wrote the poem."

There was another, slightly uncomfortable, pause, then Sirius answered, "I honestly don’t know."

"This poem means that much to you?" Remus asked softly. Sirius nodded. Both boys were surprised to find Sirius fighting to hold back tears, and Remus pulled him forwards into a tight hug. "Never feel like you’re not loved, Sirius. Okay?" Sirius sniffed and nodded. He sat on the bed in the arms of his best friend for a long time.

~*~

"What time is it?" Sirius asked.

"Eleven twenty seven," James replied automatically.

"Oh." Sirius paused for a while. "What time is it?"

"Eleven twenty eight."

"Oh..." Another pause. "Wha--"

"Sirius!" James said, cutting his friend off mid-word. He put the lid back on his inkbottle and blew on his potions essay to dry it. "Why don’t you just go to the library now and wait? Give us all a bit of peace?"

"Okay." Sirius stood up and smoothed his hair down. "How do I look?"

"Gorgeous as ever," Lily said. James tried to glare at her, but she shot him her sweetest smile and he relented.

"Yeah, she’s right, you look fine," James said.

Sirius headed for the portrait hole. "Wish me luck," he said nervously.

"Good luck," Remus said, not even looking up from his book. Sirius turned and headed to the library.

The room was empty, dark and cold; Sirius conjured a fire that floated in mid-air, illuminating his face. He hopped impatiently from one foot to the other for a while, like a child who needed to go to the toilet, but he got bored and began reading another Shakespeare book. He lost himself in the achingly beautiful words, and was startled when footsteps broke the silence half an hour later. He jumped out of his seat, closing the book on the table in front of him.

The person came around the corner. Sirius held his breath... then let it out in a huge whoosh when he realised who was there.

"Oh, it’s just you," he said. "What are you doing here?"

Remus sat opposite his friend and studied his face carefully. "I said I’d meet you here at midnight."

"No you didn’t." Sirius seemed genuinely bemused.

"I did," Remus said quietly.

"You didn’t."

Remus watched Sirius for a moment longer then dropped his eyes. "How can such an intelligent person be so bloody stupid?" he muttered, half to himself. "Do you know who wrote that note, Sirius?"

"No. Snape?"

Remus just shook his head in exasperation. "It’s like talking to a brick wall," he said as he got to his feet. "Goodnight, Sirius."

Sirius watched him go, frowning a little, then went back to his book. Midnight came and went. So did ten past, twenty past... at twelve thirty Sirius gave up and went back to the common room, almost in tears again.

//So much for love,// he thought to himself.

The room was empty when Sirius gave the Fat Lady the password and went in... or so he thought. He flung himself into an armchair in front of the dying fire, but he hurriedly swallowed back the rising tears when he heard a voice.

"Well?"

James was sitting on the other side of the fire – Sirius could see the embers glinting on the lenses of his glasses.

"Well, nobody showed up." Sirius thumped the arm of the chair hard and scowled into the near-darkness.

"Really?"

Sirius looked at his friend. He sounded strange... angry? Not exactly. More annoyed.

"What’s wrong, Jay?"

James ignored the question. "Really, did nobody show up?"

"Really." Sirius sighed and thumped the chair a few more times. "Remus came in just before midnight, but nobo--"

"Exactly."

"What?"

James stood up with a heavy sigh. "If you haven’t got it by now, you never will. Goodnight."

Sirius watched him go up the stairs to the dormitory... and then it hit him.

"Oh my god," he said weakly. It was Remus? Remus had sent him that poem, that gorgeous sonnet? Remus, his best friend? Remus, the werewolf who loved to play chase with Padfoot when the full moon was high in the sky? Sweet, funny, intelligent, beautiful Remus?

Sirius thought hard. "It's so obvious," he whispered to himself. All this time he'd been searching everywhere for love, when it was right there in front of him all along. He'd never paid much attention to the guarded glances he sometimes saw Remus giving him... he'd never realised how intense their hugs were...

He knew right then what love was. Love was friendship and laughter and mutual respect and loyalty... but love. Love had deep amber eyes like pools of honey, and long grey-brown hair, and a thin, frail-looking frame that belied the incomparable strength inside.

Love was Remus Lupin, and Sirius had pushed him away. Okay, he hadn't known then... but still, he'd been blinded by expectations and hadn't seen what Remus had been trying to say.

"Idiot." Sirius berated himself in a furious whisper. What could he do now? He couldn't just go up to the dormitory after behaving like such a fool.

//Shakespeare, think Shakespeare,// he ordered himself, racking his brains for something that would mean as much to Remus as that sonnet had meant to him. //Think beauty, think happiness... think love, because you do love him, don't you?//

"I love Remus," Sirius muttered tentatively into the darkness. He smiled, and the words spilled out over his lips again and again as an idea began to form.

~*~

Remus lay awake in his bed, uncomfortably shuffling about under the covers. He heard Peter snoring loudly on the other side of the room, and James’ deep, slow breathing in the bed beside him. James had come to bed about an hour ago... but he hadn’t heard Sirius come up. Was he still waiting in the library?

//Idiot,// Remus thought furiously, not sure whether he was talking about himself or his friend.

Thinking about Sirius made his bed feel too warm, and Remus threw his covers back and opened the curtains around him. He breathed deeply in the cold February air of the castle and swung his legs onto the floor so he could get up and fetch a glass of water... but he stopped when he saw a faint light coming from the window. It wasn’t even two o’ clock, so it couldn’t be dawn yet... Remus frowned and picked his wand up; he walked over to the window and looked out, and his eyebrows shot right back up.

"Sirius?" he choked out.

Three floors below, Sirius was sitting on the grass surrounded by an iridescent yellowish glow. He jumped to his feet hurriedly when he heard his name, and peered up at his friend.

"Remus?" he said. "Dammit, you’re not supposed to see this bit. Okay, wait there and don’t move."

Remus stood by the window with his hands on the ledge, looking down at the ground, practically rigid with a mixture of shock and confusion. He couldn’t figure out what the glow was... whatever it was, Sirius seemed to be speaking to it. After a moment he stood up.

"You still there, Remus?" he asked anxiously.

"Uh... yes."

"Good. Happy Valentine’s Day."

At that, the glow flew up into the air and broke up into eight little balls of light... then each of these changed shape and morphed into a letter. The words ‘I LOVE YOU’ stood out in gold against the black mountains in the distance, then they came together and formed a shimmering heart that hung in the air for a moment before zooming off towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Sirius...?" Remus whispered. Without the light, he couldn’t see anything but the half moon and millions of stars in the sky. He leaned forwards slightly, but everything was black.

Black.

//God... I love him. Where is he?//

"Yeah?"

Remus jumped as Sirius appeared in front of him on his broom.

"Were they fairies?"

"Yeah. I found them in the Forest the other week. I chased an Augurey away from their nests, so they owed me a favour."

"Uh... I didn’t know you could speak Fairy."

"I can’t, I’ve just had to translate what I wanted to say with the dictionary. I think they were laughing at my accent."

"Oh." Remus paused. "So, what’s... all this about?"

"Exactly what it said," Sirius said earnestly. "But wait a minute, let me get this right." He closed his eyes for a moment, readied himself, then continued. "Sir, I love you more than word can wield the matter, dearer than eyesight, space, and liberty, beyond what can be valued rich or rare, no less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour, as much as child e’er loved or father found; a love that makes breath poor and speech unable; beyond all matter of ‘so much’ I love you."
There was a short silence after that, in which the boys stared at each other as if for the first time. Sirius couldn’t wait any longer.

"Well?" he said impatiently.

"Well, what?"

"Well, was that okay?"

Remus breathed in and out slowly. "Have you even read King Lear, Sirius?" he asked. Sirius shook his head.

"Not all of it, just the first few pages."

"Thought so. Did you know, that’s what Gonerill said to HER FATHER?"

"God, Remus..." Sirius ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Does it matter?"

"Well, yes, actually!" Remus said, suddenly indignant that Sirius seemed to be taking his precious Shakespeare so lightly. "She only said that to suck up to him, so she’d get the biggest share of land."

"But..." A shadow of a frown flickered across Sirius’ brow. "I don’t think it matters, really," he said defiantly. "I love you more than word can wield the matter, a love that makes breath poor and speech unable. It’s true. It doesn’t matter who said it first or why they said it." He reached forwards and covered one of Remus’ cold hands with his own. "I love you."

"No you don’t," Remus said quietly. Sirius sat back on his broom, a bit surprised, and Remus pulled his hand away. "You love the idea of being in love. You told me so yourself. You don’t love me."

"I do!"

"You don’t."

"Goddammit, Remus, don’t tell me what I do and don’t feel!" Sirius said, struggling to keep his voice low. He leaned forwards. "I. Love. You. I love you. You’re my best friend, but it’s more than that now." Remus looked at him, still doubtful, and Sirius thought for a moment. "Okay, listen. You know when you’re a wolf and I’m a dog?" Remus nodded slowly. "Have you ever noticed how much stuff we do, and how much fun we have? We’re always rolling about on the floor..." Remus felt an incandescent blush creep into his face as the mental images crept into his mind "...and play-fighting and biting and licking and..."

"Okay, okay, I get the picture," Remus said quickly.

"I think Padfoot realised he loved Moony long before Sirius worked out he was in love with Remus," Sirius said, all traces of teasing humour gone now. "Sirius is stupid and blind... but he’s not too stupid and blind to throw away the chance of a life with someone as perfect as you." He reached out for Remus’ hand, and the werewolf didn’t pull away this time as his friend entwined their fingers together. He couldn’t pull away. He couldn’t move at all. Hell, he was having trouble breathing with Sirius this close.

"Sirius..." he whispered again.

"Padfoot saw how beautiful Moony was ages ago," Sirius continued, "and Sirius didn’t... but now it’s so obvious. Moony and Remus are the same person, and..." He raised their clasped hands to his lips and kissed them, "and I love everything you are."

Silence again. The air felt heavy with emotion and anticipation and a million other things.

"Lumos," Remus muttered. The tip of his wand lit up, bathing them in a soft light similar to that of the fairies... and as he saw Sirius’ beautiful face contorted with emotion, saw his bottom lip slightly deformed where he was chewing on it anxiously, saw Sirius’ free hand awkwardly tugging at a strand of his long black hair... as Remus saw all that, he believed.

"I’m going to kiss you now," he said simply. "Come inside."

Sirius swung his leg over his broom and climbed in the window; Remus held his hand tightly and helped him off the ledge.

~*~

Sirius looked at his friend... and suddenly found himself on the receiving end of a warm kiss that started tentatively, then grew in intensity as all barriers between 'friend' and 'lover' were crushed to dust. Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus' waist -- Remus began playing absently with the long hair at the nape of Sirius' neck -- and smiled against his friend's lips, opened himself up into the embrace, let himself feel safe and content and complete and really, truly loved for the first time in his life.

Since the invention of the kiss, there had been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind.

They pulled back at the same time and just stood in each other’s arms for a long time. Remus rested his head on Sirius’ shoulder and inhaled his scent with the precision of senses only a werewolf has. It was so blatant. His aftershave was there, and traces of soap, fresh air... under all that was something that was simultaneously soft and sharp, calming and exciting. He’d always assumed that was just the scent of friendship... but of course, it was deeper than that.

"I love you." Sirius murmured.

"You’re so vain," Remus said in a sleepy whisper.

"I love you."

"Those mirrors are going, you know. And I’m sure you could get by without fifty combs. Won’t one do?"

"I love you."

"No more looking at Jay’s arse every time he turns his back, okay?"

"I love you."

"Monogamy all the way?"

"I love you."

Remus gave up. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, planting a soft kiss on Sirius’ neck. "I love you too."

That was the morning February 15th took over February 14th as Sirius Black’s favourite day.

~END~