***
Lunchtime couldn’t come round quickly enough for Harry, and when it did, it proved to be an anti-climax because Remus was still sleeping and Pomfrey didn’t want them waking him. It wasn’t until after dinner that Remus arrived back at the dormitory.
A fresh cut could be seen just above Remus’s collar on the back of his neck, but apart from that any new injuries were hidden by his school robes. The only thing to betray that which lay out of sight was the slow and cautious way that he was walking. Anxious about Remus’s pale face and pained gait, Harry scurried round, clearing a path for him to his bed, helping him to undress and then making sure Remus was settled and comfy. In the background, James and Peter started to snigger.
“Cor, look at Nurse Black,” James said. “Guilt works wonders on you, Padfoot—just as long as you don’t start giving him a bed bath. He’ll be offering to do your homework next, Remus.”
Ignoring him, Harry kept his back to James and asked, “Do you need a hand with any work, Remus?”
“That’s okay. I made sure I was up to date before the full moon,” Remus said. “Thanks for helping me.”
As Remus stared up at him with a look of utter devotion and gratitude, Harry was suddenly reminded of the smell of flowers that triggered him to see Ginny in a new light. Only this time, he realised that he didn’t need that same smell to tell him how he felt. Leaning down, he captured Remus’s lips for an affectionate kiss, which Remus returned as he tugged Harry down onto the bed. Neither of them acknowledged the gagging sounds coming from James and Peter’s direction.
When the kiss broke, they saw that the curtains had been closed.
“You’ve never done that before,” Remus said under his breath as he nestled down and laid his head on Harry’s shoulder.
“What?”
“Kiss me in front of James and Peter. I thought James made you promise not to.”
“Oh, shit. I, er, forgot about that.”
“It was a nice surprise.”
Listening to the sounds of movement on the other side of the curtain, Harry absently ran his fingers through Remus’s hair and wondered how much of this Remus would remember in the future. Would he be interested in a relationship? Harry mused, but then he dismissed the idea. As fond as he was of the other version of Remus, Harry wanted this one. Remus had changed as he had got older, and he was sure that it wouldn’t be the same.
“Shouldn’t Sirius be getting in his own bed?” It was Peter’s voice that had brought a stop to Harry’s train of thought.
“Yeah, good point,” James said to Peter. Then he called out to Harry, “I don’t want McGonagall coming in here and catching you at it: we’ll all get it in the neck.”
Harry did not want to move. Clutching at his wand, he poked it through the curtains and flicked it at his own bed, but his attempt to draw his own curtains was a miserable failure. He was about to ask Remus to move, but Remus had already fallen asleep. Instead, he carefully shifted Remus’s head back onto the pillow before climbing out of bed and pulling to his own curtains by hand.
“As far as you and Peter are concerned,” he said as he undressed and returned to Remus’s bed, “you know nothing about it.”
**
It was dark outside, but Remus preferred that to hanging around indoors with the others. The silence of the garden helped to relax him as he paced through the uncut lawn, disturbing the occasional gnome and trying to understand why Tonks had taken off so suddenly. As he expected, Molly had held him responsible, but he knew that there must have been a better reason for Tonks to run away than the one Molly was determined to believe.
“Remus.” He turned to see Hermione standing by the back door. “Is it okay if I join you?”
She didn’t sound as if she had come to pass judgement on him, and so, he settled himself down on the garden wall and motioned for her to sit next to him.
“Did you stop loving Tonks because Sirius came back?” she asked. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, just inquisitive.
“No. It’s always been Sirius. Tonks knew that.”
“But you thought it was okay to let her love you, even though you didn’t love her back?”
The uncertainty in her question told Remus that she wasn’t talking about him and Tonks.
“How long have you known that you don’t love Ron?” he asked.
“I guess it’s been a few months. I only really admitted it to myself after what Sirius said earlier,” she said. Then she continued to talk, telling Remus how things between her and Ron had been getting worse and how that had prompted her to try even harder to change him, even if she didn’t realise it at the time. “I don’t want to hurt him, Remus, but we can’t carry on like this.”
“All you can do is to be honest. If you can’t, then let him go, because Ron deserves better than that.”
They sat in a contemplative silence for a while, and then she spoke again.
“Where do you think Tonks is?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps back to her parent’s house. Or there are a couple of places nearby where she liked to go when she needed time to think. There’s a waterfall at the other side of the woods that she’s particularly fond of.”
“Yes, I know the one: she showed that to me the other week. Do you think we should look for her? If she’s upset, then she might not be safe wandering about by herself, not when there are so many Death Eaters around.”
“You’re right: we should do something. If only to make sure she’s safe.”
They went back inside to discuss with the others what they could do. Remus suggested Hermione went with Ron, thinking that it might give them a chance to talk on the way, and Arthur said he was going to check in at the Ministry and get in contact with other members of the Order. Molly insisted that Remus stayed behind with her and Sirius because she wasn’t going to be responsible for the “foul-mouthed delinquent”. As much as he wanted to help, Remus had to acknowledge that staying at the Burrow would be for the best.
Once the others had left, Molly refused to let the pair of them out of her sight, which made things awkward when Sirius decided that he was ready to talk about Harry.
“Why did you fuck him, Remus? Did you enjoy getting a break from me?”
“I thought he was you,” Remus said, studiously ignoring the noises of disapproval that came from Molly’s direction. “You’ve hardly been the most stable of people, Sirius. I can’t remember what I was thinking at the time, but I do know that you often had the odd week at Hogwarts when you behaved erratically. How was I supposed to tell the difference?”
Sirius thought about this for a moment and grunted.
“Don’t see why I should believe you, not when you’ve been so busy hiding other things from me. I hate you, you know? I hate you for keeping me in the dark.”
“Stop it,” Remus snapped, surprising himself as well as Sirius. “Do you honestly think that I’ve enjoyed not telling you everything?”
“I dunno,” Sirius said sulkily. “I suppose I don’t really know you as well as I thought I did.”
Remus winced at his words. “Maybe you don’t. Just promise me one thing, Sirius. That whatever happens in the future—your future—you’ll remember how I feel about you. I need to know that what you did—what you will do—wasn’t because you thought I didn’t love you.”
“You’ve become a right soppy tosser in your old age.”
Remus choked out a laugh, and a wave of sentimentality washed through him. He knew that if he didn’t do something, he’d very soon be in tears. Despite Molly’s protestations, he moved to sit next to Sirius on the sofa and pulled him in for a fierce hug. He could feel Sirius patting him awkwardly on his back, and the lack of reciprocity from Sirius gave him the strength he needed to pull himself together. But he still couldn’t bring himself to let go, not just yet.
**
Harry woke on Wednesday morning warm and snug. His first instinct was to bury himself deeper into the blankets, but he soon found that there just wasn’t the room to do so, not when Remus was in the same bed.
Opening his eyes, he saw the wound that ran down the back of Remus’s neck. It had healed already, leaving a silver scar in its wake. He leant forwards, pressing his lips against it, and Remus shifted, turning over to greet Harry with a sleepy smile.
“Why are you in my bed, Sirius?”
“I didn’t want to leave you. Do you want me to go?”
Remus shook his head and pulled Harry closer, moving their hips together and bringing Harry’s attention to the parts of their anatomy which were ready and waiting for action.
“Mmm, this is nice,” Remus murmured, his breath tickling Harry’s shoulder.
“Very,” Harry said, and he groaned as they began to rub against each other.
Then no further words needed to be spoken. The sound of bedsprings creaking, heavy breathing and moans filled Harry’s ears. He clung on, his lips trying to find purchase on any available patch of skin as the sounds of their rutting increased.
“I…I…,” Remus panted, looking as if he had something he desperately wanted to say but not letting himself say it as their movements became more erratic until, finally, they both juddered to a halt, trying to catch their breath and letting the slickness of skin and damp pyjamas bind them together.
“What were you going to say?” Harry asked when his breathing had returned to normal.
To his surprise, Remus hung his head as if ashamed of himself. “Nothing,” he said, and then he changed the subject. “That mark on your head is starting to look a bit like a lightning bolt. Do you have any idea where it’s come from?”
“No,” Harry lied.
“I bet James will blame it on Snape.”
“I can hide it if I let my hair flop forward. Don’t point it out to him. I don’t want to give him any more reasons to pick on Snape.”
“You must be ill,” Remus said, smiling. “Maybe it’s got something to do with you not being able to do magic properly. I think you should see Pomfrey again.”
“If it hasn’t gone in a couple of days, I will.”
The room was empty when they pulled back the curtains. On Remus’s bedside table a note from James lay waiting for them:
I don’t EVER want to be woken up like that again!
“Oops,” Harry said with a smirk, prompting
Remus to laugh nervously.
James sulked throughout most of the morning, and Peter only egged him on whenever he started to moan about how disgusting it was to be sharing a room with Sirius and Remus lately. Harry couldn’t bring himself to care: he was walking on cloud nine. Even when it was time for his detention with McGonagall, his good mood didn’t dissipate. He barely paid any attention to the dust and grime of the cupboard that he had been instructed to clean out. He was far too busy daydreaming about much pleasanter things.
Remus was looking very pleased with himself when he caught up with Harry at the end of the lunch hour. Taking Harry by surprise, Remus pulled him into an empty classroom and thrust a dusty old tome into his hands.
“Are you going to tell me what you want it for?” Remus said.
Harry glanced down at the cover and tried not to let his disappointment show as he read the words Magicartes Primartes. There was no reason for him to wait any longer.
It was time to say goodbye.