Chapter 5

 

***

 

“I’m just having a bad day…er, James,” Harry said as he dragged his feet along the corridor, wondering if he was ever going to get used to speaking to his dad like this.

 

As Harry expected, James was escorting him to Gryffindor Tower. James also insisted on chatting all the way, trying to find out why there was an issue with Remus in the first place. Harry still wasn’t doing too well at being, well, Sirius-like, and this only seemed to spur James on with his interrogation.

 

“It’s as if you’re hiding something,” James continued. “You've never kept stuff from me before—even all that shit that you and Remus get up to, which I really wish you wouldn't share."

 

And, of course, his dad would have to keep saying things like that, things that Harry found fundamentally disturbing and in a way that he really didn’t want to analyse too heavily. Gritting his teeth, he continued in silence, refusing to be drawn in to the conversation any further. It was odd, but making it to the dormitory and finding Remus apparently engrossed in a Herbology textbook was a bit of a relief. At least his dad would now leave him in peace.

 

Remus didn't look up when they entered; instead he ignored the intrusion, keeping a dedicated silence as Harry hesitated in the doorway. A sharp prod in the small of his back told Harry that James was still hovering behind him. It was time. Time to do some fast thinking and maybe a little prayer to help ease the way. No matter what happened, he could not risk changing the past. He would have to act ‘normally’ around Remus, whatever that would entail. He was going to do this. He had to do this, for the sake of the future.

 

Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the sickly feeling that welled up inside him, he turned to face James and muttered, “You can go now.”

 

"I'll be in the common room if there's a problem, okay Remus?"

 

Remus finally looked up when James spoke, his face expressionless, and he nodded before promptly returning to his book. As the door closed, Harry began to stutter, trying to find the words that would end this sticky mess.

 

Continuing to look downwards and leafing through the pages, Remus said, "If you're only here because of Ja--"

 

"No. I'm sorry, Remus. Really. I haven't been feeling like, well, like myself all day—even you've noticed it—and I just..."

 

And from there Harry was off on a rambling apologetic waffle. Moments of inspiration hit him, such as James’s suggestion that Remus would find the McGonagall incident funny, which did earn Harry a smile or two. And Remus couldn’t restrain a smirk when he asked about the black eye that was rapidly developing on Harry’s face.

 

"I deserved it,” Harry continued, “because I was acting like an idiot: thoughtless and selfish."

 

He meant what he was saying, but not in the way that Remus was assuming. Harry had been thoughtless when it came to considering consequences for the future; he was selfish because he hadn’t respected his godfather's relationship with Remus. He still didn't know if he could do it justice, which presented him with a bit of a problem: no matter how well he seemed to be talking Remus round, he was going to have to come to terms with them getting intimate.

 

It seemed that despite all his words, he was setting himself up for a fall. For a start, how was he going to explain his lack of experience? Was there no other way around the situation? And then he realised that maybe there was another option. Where Dumbledore and McGonagall had so far been of little help, maybe Remus would be the one to really believe him.

 

“I’m… I didn’t—” Harry faltered mid-flow. How could he tell Remus without saying too much? How could he even begin to explain what was going on? “Oh sod it. Look, the truth is I'm not Sirius. I’m stuck in the past, in Sirius’s body."

 

"Is that what you said to McGonagall? Because after last week’s prank, I’m not surprised that she gave you those detentions if that was the best you could come up with."

 

"I'm serious!"

 

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

 

It took a moment before Harry recognised his unintended pun. "No, really. Remus, I know a little about the prank because McGonagall mentioned it, but that's all I know. I was telling her the truth. That's why I reacted the way I did. I never realised you and he were... that close. I've only ever kissed two people and both of them were girls, and I've not done much more than kiss."

 

"Fine," Remus said, but he clearly wasn't buying it. "You're from the future. Whatever you say. I suppose you have a name other than Sirius?"

 

"Yes, but, er, I don't think I should tell you, in case.... You don't believe me, do you?"

 

"Do you blame me? Perhaps you should take yourself to the Hospital Wing. I'm sure Pomfrey would be fascinated by your little story."

 

Harry slumped on the bed, noting Remus’s expressionless moue had reappeared. Had he just made things worse? "I don't need to see Pomfrey."

 

"No. I guess you've been beyond her help for years."

 

"Please, Remus, at least believe me when I say I didn't intend to over-react before. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

 

Remus studied him for a while before finally closing his book and putting it on the bedside table. "Okay. I suppose this is your way of making me feel better: coming up with an outright lie?"

 

Harry felt completely defeated by his failed third attempt at gaining some sort of ally. Staring at the carpet, he nodded and said, “I'm sorry."

 

Silence ticked by for a few moments, with Harry waiting to see what Remus would do next. Then he felt the bed dip beside him and looked up to see Remus sitting far too close.

 

"Show me you're sorry," Remus said simply before leaning his face towards Harry's.

 

They kissed, and Harry did his best: he kissed back, he tried to enjoy it and he tried to show how sorry he was through his actions. Then Remus's arms were snaking around his body, pulling him closer still. They toppled back onto the bed, a leg pressed between Harry’s and he held on tightly, not wanting to acknowledge exactly whose body it was beneath his hands. And it was then that he realised that he was stuck. There were no soft bits to go for, there was no uncharted territory, no breasts or dark, damp places to slide his fingers in, not like there had been with Ginny. Just how was he supposed to go about touching another boy?

 

Harry stilled. It wasn't going to work. "Stop! I... I don't know what to do," he blurted out.

 

"Oh, for fu--." Remus trailed off as his expression of disbelief changed to a thoughtful frown followed by a light of recognition—but recognition of what, Harry had no idea. "I don't believe you, Sirius. I don’t fucking believe you. Role-play, right? All this for fucking role-play. So last week's prank has given you ideas? I'll never be able to fathom why you just can't explain what's going through your thick head instead of charging into these seemingly random notions that you come up with. Why didn't you just say last week when you were joking about it? Why all this palaver?"

 

Harry remained motionless on the bed as Remus knelt alongside him. Keeping his eye fixed on Harry’s, Remus unbuttoned Harry's shirt, and Harry felt the heat rise in his face as Remus smirked at him.

 

"I quite like this look: Sirius Black, the blushing virgin," Remus said, drawing his fingers across the now-naked chest and down Harry’s belly, making him shudder. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

 

Then those hands were smoothing over every last inch of his exposed body, feeling not unlike when Ginny used to touch him, reverently and full of desire. He closed his eyes trying to imagine it was Ginny, but it was hard to ignore the differences: the heavier scent in the room, the hardness of Remus’s fingertips and the way a partially-healed scar on Remus’s forearm would occasionally brush against his stomach.

 

Remus leant forward and swirled a tongue around his nipple, the warmth and wetness of which Harry couldn’t help but enjoy. Then he gasped when Remus leant back an inch to blow gently across his moistened skin. The other nipple received the same treatment before Remus's hands expertly unbuckled his belt and loosened his trousers, pulling them down and off. Despite the fact that he was never going to be able to look ‘his’ Remus in the eye again once he got back, Harry was left panting from the tingling that permeated his body and in anticipation of what was to come.

 

Remus's eyes strayed to Harry's groin, where Harry knew the flimsy material of his underpants wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his erection. A hand trailed up the inside of his leg, stopping at the knee and coaxing it to bend outwards. Then, Remus was kissing his way up the inside, as his hands ran up and down the length of Harry's thigh, running over the contours of adolescent muscle, tips of fingers brushing just underneath his underpants, threatening to touch but not quite making it before running down again. Harry groaned and Remus kissed higher and higher, closer and closer, and....

 

Harry let out a sudden groan as, this time, Remus's fingertips went just a fraction further, brushing against the skin of his balls. He could feel all his muscles tense, the air leaving his body as for a brief moment he forgot how to breathe. Then he melted on the bed before realising with embarrassment that his briefs were wet.

 

"You haven't come already?" Remus asked, and Harry nodded, feeling decidedly abashed as Remus started to laugh. "I can’t believe you got off so quickly because of a bit of role-play.” He walked up the bed on his knees before lying on his back next to Harry, shoving him over slightly on the small bed, and then scooping a hand inside his trousers to pull out his cock. “It’s my turn, now. Give me your hand."

 

Reluctantly, but trying not to show it, Harry lifted his right arm, and Remus guided his hand forwards until it touched the warm flesh. Harry took a deep breath to steady himself and curled his fingers around the hardness that waited for him.

 

Remus leant forwards, breathing, "Wank me off, then," before kissing Harry deeply, his hips beginning to jerk in the air.

 

Foremost in Harry’s mind was the knowledge that it was Professor Lupin’s penis he was touching. Even pushing that distressing thought to one side, he was finding it difficult to concentrate on kissing at the same time as moving his hand, which was twisted round in a most uncomfortable position. It wasn’t long before Remus let out a hiss of pain and was placing a hand on Harry’s arm, putting a stop to his efforts.

 

"All right, you've made your point, Sirius. I'm never going to make it as a teacher."

 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at how absurd it would be if Remus never became a professor at Hogwarts due to an inadequate hand-job. "I think you're going to make a fantastic teacher, Professor Lupin." Remus looked at him askance, and Harry added sincerely, "I’m ser—. I mean it."

 

He watched as Remus knelt up on the bed to think, and Harry noticed that Remus always had the same studious look when mulling over an idea. It was the same in the future and that obvious expression was something that Harry found rather endearing.

 

“Sirius, kneel up behind me. Then you can reach round and wank me off as if you were doing it to yourself.”

 

Following Remus’s new directions, Harry found that it was lot easier to manage in this position, and he was surprised that he didn't feel the need to baulk when Remus encouraged him to use his free hand to toy with Remus's balls.

 

"Kiss me," Remus groaned as the jerky motion of his hips began to speed up.

 

"I can't reach."

 

"On my neck, you daft idiot."

 

Harry pressed his lips to Remus’s nape, inhaling the tang of unwashed hair. Remus groaned and tilted his head to one side, encouraging Harry to kiss as far round as he could reach.

 

"Faster. Suck, just there…. Harder..."

 

Then Remus, too, was coming, and the ordeal was over. Grabbing a box of tissues from the bedside cabinet, Remus wiped himself off before falling back on the bed. Harry was reminded that he was still sticky, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. Not sure how he was feeling—apart from sticky—Harry lay back on the bed as well, listening to Remus's breath as it slowed.

 

Harry knew that when he got back he would be taking this memory with him to the grave. For a start, he could imagine what Ron would say.... But when Harry thought about this, he realised that he didn't know how Ron felt about that sort of thing, at all. It wasn't something that they had ever discussed. Up until his first kiss with Remus, Harry had never even entertained the thought of himself—or anyone else, for that matter—being with someone of the same sex, let alone talked about it. Ron could have been harbouring secret desires towards him ever since they met for all Harry knew.

 

It was unsettling to discover that he didn't really mind the notion.

 

**

 

The bed was empty and cold when Remus woke. Evidently Tonks had risen at least half an hour earlier and hadn't bothered to rouse him. That didn't bode well, especially after the events of the night before.

 

As he washed and dressed, he chastised himself for handling everything so badly and for letting the past get the better of him. He was determined not to succumb to the same emotional weaknesses today. Stepping out into the hallway, he decided to check on Sirius and make sure he was still in the house. If so, he'd most likely be unconscious: Sirius had always had problems getting up in their latter years at Hogwarts—if anyone had tried to wake him this morning, Remus would have heard about it.

 

Sure enough, Sirius was sleeping soundly. Despite his physical appearance, he looked distinctly Sirius-like, sprawled as he was across the bed—just as he used to sleep, both at Hogwarts and afterwards in their flat. It was only after Azkaban that he took to sleeping in a neat little ball. Remus had missed those limbs being spread out in every direction, even though he had spent a good deal of time complaining about the lack of space. Secretly, he had loved the fact that there had never been a moment in the night when he wasn't in contact with some part of Sirius.

 

He felt his eyes begin to heat up and he chastised himself again, this time for being sentimental. Stepping back to pull the door closed, he stopped short when Sirius lifted his head and smiled a lazy morning grin—something else that had been locked away in Remus's memory.

 

"You planning on joining me or taking advantage while I slept?"

 

"It's time for breakfast."

 

“Do I really have to eat with them?" Sirius asked with a sneer. Then his faced brightened and he added, "We could make it a quickie."

 

"I'll see you in the downstairs."

 

The tension in his body matched the atmosphere that greeted Remus when he stepped into the kitchen and sat down to eat the toast that was waiting for him.

 

Tonks had already finished her breakfast and was decidedly stand-offish as she tidied away her things, hardly saying a word as he ate. When Molly tried to take over and wash up the dishes, Tonks moodily refused her help. Hermione was also on the receiving end of sour looks, but these came from Ron as she moaned at him because he had hadn't finished a report that was due in. Why she thought it was her business, Remus couldn't understand: she didn't even work in the same department as Ron.

 

The only one who appeared to be blissfully unaware of the ongoing politics was Arthur. He was busy deciding who would be the most discrete person to ask if there was a copy of the book at the Ministry.

 

"Do you think it's safe to go to Hogwarts?” Molly asked. “We could see if it’s in the library."

 

"I'll do that," Remus quickly volunteered, thinking it would be a good excuse to get some space from Sirius. There had been attacks at the school, but none since the badly damaged building had been deserted by both students and staff about three months previously.

 

“I’ll be off, then,” Tonks announced, steadfastly refusing to even glance in Remus’s direction.

 

"But you'll be early, dear," Molly said.

 

"I've got a lot of work to catch up on, anyway."

 

“Hang on,” Arthur called out as he wiped a few stray crumbs from the front of this shirt. “I’ll come with you. You can introduce me to Miller—he manages the supplies for the Ministry’s library, doesn’t he?”

 

As Arthur and Tonks left the house, Ron was hassled into getting ready to go in early, too. Hermione seemed to think it was a good idea because Ron could do his report. Remus saw the look of disgust on Ron’s face that triggered a ‘tut’ from Hermione, and then the pair of them were also on their way out, leaving Remus and Molly alone in the kitchen.

 

"Do you think Harry, I mean Sirius, needs waking up? I want to clear away the breakfast things."

 

"He's awake, but don't wait around on his account,” Remus said, thankful that she hadn’t chosen to pester him about Tonks. “If he doesn't come down soon, he can go hungry. Although, from what I remember of him at school, he'll manage to get here just in time—he had a knack for making it to breakfast."

 

As if on cue, Sirius came waltzing down the stairs looking half asleep, hair ignored so that Harry's scruffy mop was even worse than usual. He sat in the chair nearest the toast and began eating in earnest, grunting in appreciation when Molly passed the teapot.

 

“Remus dear,” Molly began, and Remus felt himself bristling at the change of tone in her voice. “T didn’t seem very happy today. She’s not coming down with something?”

 

“No, I don’t think so,” Remus replied stiffly.

 

“But I’d say she was quite upset. Is everything all right between you two?"

 

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Remus said, cutting her short. Even though Molly was genuinely concerned, he suspected that she was fishing for gossip more than anything else.

 

"If there's anything I can do--"

 

"We’ll be certain to let you know." Remus looked across to Sirius to find that he had been watching the exchange with interest.

 

"What are we doing today?" Sirius asked him.

 

“I was going to look through some books at the school."

 

"Hogwarts? We're going to Hogwarts?"

 

"You can't come."

 

Sirius threw an unimpressed glance at Molly. “So I'll be left with her—a complete stranger? And you expect me to behave?"

 

"I'm Mrs Weasley to you, young man, and I'll thank you not to talk about me as if I'm not here."

 

Seeing Sirius’s hackles rise at the way Molly talked down to him, Remus considered Molly’s history with Sirius. He could imagine the arguments that would take place in his absence, and if the right buttons were pushed, there was no telling what Sirius would be capable of saying. Just a mention of their relationship would be bad enough, but what if Sirius let slip about last night’s kiss?

 

Remus swore under his breath. "Okay, Sirius. You can come with me."

 

 

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