Chapter 6

 

***

 

The school wasn’t completely in ruins, but in some areas it was a close call. It was the towers that had sustained the most damage, with the roof still holding over the central part of the castle. Remus was thankful that the stairs leading to the library corridor were intact, although there were piles of rubble here and there blocking their way which had to be moved using magic. He tried to dissuade Sirius from helping, but as he had been allowed to take Harry’s wand along just in case there was trouble, Sirius was determined to join in.

 

"You don’t need to do anything fancy,” Remus said. “In other words: nothing catastrophic, please."

 

"You think I'm incapable because I’m bloody younger than you?"

 

"No, I just know that you can be a bit overenthusiastic at times."

 

Sirius flicked the wand and screwed his face up in frustration when nothing happened. He tried again and only managed to move a large boulder in the wrong direction. The third time was more of a success, albeit with the boulder rolling across Remus’s foot. This was followed by Remus saying a few choice words that he would never say in front of Molly Weasley as he swiftly sent the rubble down the corridor.

 

“It’s like trying to use James’s wand,” Sirius moaned. “Bloody impossible.” He then proceeded to demonstrate on another pile of rocks, causing Remus to flinch as the heap suddenly shifted to one side and careered into the wall with a crash.

 

Not willing to wait around while Sirius continued to play dangerously with the rubbish, Remus went on ahead to the library. He was in the middle of sorting through the books that were strewn across the floor when Sirius came in muttering to himself.

 

"The smaller the scope of the spell, the harder it is.”

 

"What?" Remus said, looking up at Sirius who was frowning at Harry’s wand.

 

"If I try to do something intricate, or really specific,” Sirius started to explain as he took the book that Remus was holding, "it doesn’t work properly. So if I wanted to flick through the pages of this book using the wand…”

 

Sirius didn’t need to finish the sentence, because his attempt sent the book flying into one of the few remaining shelves, knocking most of the books onto the floor. One particularly old and dusty tome fell open on a picture of a banshee, which immediately started to scream.

 

"That's terrific, Sirius!" Remus shouted over the noise, his voice laden with sarcasm.

 

“At least it’s not a real banshee,” Sirius shouted back. "But you see what I mean, though? And if I try something more powerful and general in focus, it's easier. Reducto!"

 

In an orange flash, the book was destroyed.

 

"Sirius, how do you know that wasn't the book we were after?"

 

"I'd recognise that wail anywhere: that's what got me caught the last time I raided the Restricted Section."

 

Remus sighed. There was a good side to Sirius messing around like the teenager he was: the reminder of how irritating he could be was great at keeping all the fond memories at bay.

 

“Just try not to upend any more shelves. This is going to take long enough as it is.”

 

They only managed to keep searching through the mess for ten minutes before Sirius’s patience ran out.

 

"I'm bored."

 

It took Remus by surprise just how much those two words unnerved him. Whenever Sirius had uttered those words in the past, they had always been accompanied by sex or mayhem—or sometimes both, at the same time. He felt a chill sweep its way up his spine, his knuckles were already white before he realised how tightly he was clenching the book he was in the process of checking.

 

"Gis' a snog, Moony. We can find another way to search through all this crap, and spend the time doing other things."

 

"No."

 

"Go on. I want another taste of your ‘tache. I could get quite used to that thing."

 

"Sirius," Remus warned.

 

"Whatever prompted you to grow it in the first place?"

 

"You did." Several memories came flooding back to Remus, of Sirius pestering him at school and Remus finally working up the courage to grow a moustache after they left Hogwarts. He couldn't stop the fond smile from appearing.

 

Sirius smiled back, and then the smile disappeared to be replaced by Sirius chewing on his lips. "So, if I was the one to persuade you to grow your moustache...surely that means I make it back anyway, and all this book hunting is irrelevant."

 

"We don't know that for certain. We might be supposed to find it here, or if you don't go back, I might grow it for another reason—Harry could be the one to persuade me. We can't take the risk."

 

Sirius considered this for a moment before taking Remus by surprise yet again. "Have you ever done things with Harry—recently, I mean, not when he was back in my body.”

 

"No!"

 

"That sounds very definite. Why not?"

 

"He's...he's too young."

 

"Didn't stop you from kissing him last night."

 

"That was different. That was you, not Harry, and besides, you didn't exactly leave me any choice in the matter."

 

"Don't act as if it meant nothing to you. I felt the way you kissed me back. I saw the tears. I know you want to do it again."

 

Remus was beginning to feel like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming disaster. He couldn't disagree with Sirius, but it didn't mean he had the right to kiss Sirius in Harry's body. He certainly didn't have the emotional strength for it. But did he have the strength to resist?

 

Sirius stepped closer, invading Remus’s personal space and making his breath catch in his throat. If Sirius kissed him now, there was no way Remus would be able to stop him. He watched as Sirius slowly reached out a hand, waiting for the moment of connection. The hand slipped inside his jacket, and to Remus’s surprise and disappointment, it didn’t stay there. Sirius pulled his arm back, now holding Remus’s self-inking quill.

 

Moving away, Sirius picked up a lone torn page from a book and wrote the words Magicartes Primartes in the margin.

 

"There," he said, handing it over. "All we need to do is set a simple Tracing Charm on these letters, and if the book's here, the spell will find it. But you'll have to do the casting: I don't want to try with this naff wand."

 

Remus laughed. It was so simple. Why hadn't he thought of that? He cast the spell and watched as random letters started to glow on the spines of books as the magic worked its way along the shelves and across the floor searching for the matching combination of letters.

 

"You really love me." Sirius hadn’t asked a question; he was mulling over the notion, as if acknowledging for the first time what he should have known all along.

 

When it came to his erratic train of thought, Sirius never failed to catch Remus off-guard. Looking up, Remus gave a small nod.

 

"But you didn't at Hogwarts, right?” Sirius continued, sounding a little unsure. “I mean, we had an agreement: no mushy stuff."

 

"I knew how you felt about it, and I respected that. I never pushed the boundaries. I never expected anything from you, apart from some respect—though, that was hard to come by at times."

 

"When we kissed last night and you cried.... It's because I'm not around anymore, isn't it? You miss me, a lot—"

 

"Sirius, please don't do this."

 

But Sirius ignored him and took a step closer, cupping Remus's face in his hands. It took all of Remus’s determination not to fall apart there and then, so he had no resolve left to stop him from succumbing when Sirius’s lips met his. As his wand slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor, he closed his eyes and was immediately swept back in time.

 

It was too intense, and Remus instinctively wrapped his arms around Sirius in an effort to hold himself upright. He missed this too much, and to be alone with the opportunity to immerse himself in Sirius left him feeling strangely vulnerable. Warm gusts of air from Sirius’s nose blew across Remus’s cheek, betraying Sirius’s excitement. Then Sirius was tugging at Remus's belt, undoing it and pulling at his trousers.

 

"Slow down," Remus pleaded as his head started to swim.

 

"But I'm a horny seventeen-year-old, stuck in a horny teenager's body."

 

"And I happen to be pushing forty."

 

Sirius grabbed the front of Remus's trousers and squeezed, eliciting a groan from Remus. "Feels like you're catching up with me fast enough."

 

"That's not the point. We don't have to rush."

 

Sirius only grinned and squeezed again before going back to kissing and his task of divesting Remus of his trousers. Relenting to Sirius’s efforts, Remus started on Sirius's clothing, deliberately getting in the way of Sirius’s hands so they could take their time. Despite his attempts, it wasn't long before the pair of them were sinking to the dusty floor and kicking off the last of their clothes.

 

They kissed and rubbed up against each other, shoving books and rubble out the way, and Remus let his mind drift back to when his Sirius was still alive, to the last time they had had the time to touch each other in this way. But while Remus was reminiscing, Sirius's patience was wearing thin and he began to rut against Remus's hip with increasing vigour.

 

Remus clutched Sirius's arse, his fingers sliding inwards. It had been so long since he had been completely connected to Sirius. "Can I...?"

 

"I suppose, technically, it is your turn."

 

Remus chuckled. From the moment they had started experimenting with anal sex, Sirius had always insisted on taking turns, even though Remus would have been perfectly happy either way. Sirius’s insistence of a routine made it clear that he enjoyed it, but his ego never let him admit it.

 

Reaching across for his wand, he motioned for Sirius to turn over. Then he said a Cleaning Charm before diving in and burying his tongue deep within Sirius’s arse.

 

“Holy fuck! What are you doing, Remus?”

 

Remus stopped briefly until Sirius ordered him to continue. He didn’t understand why Sirius was so surprised by his actions until he realised that it had been Sirius who had first instigated their rimming endeavours at Hogwarts.

 

“That’s it,” Sirius said with a loud groan. “I’m not going back. I want to stay here with your tongue stuck permanently up my arse.”

 

Remus smiled as he kissed his way up Sirius’s back, muttering a Lubricating Charm and gently pushing a finger inside. "I'm sure you could persuade me to do this when you return to your own time."

 

“I’ll tie you down and sit on your face until you comply. Oh, for heaven’s sake, Remus, get on with it.”

 

Remus paused for a moment, uncertain. Sirius might be ready, but was Harry's body ready? He’d have a lot of explaining to do if Harry came back to a sore arse. But he supposed that, given what happened in the past, he and Harry would be having a rather awkward conversation, anyway. And Remus was certainly in no position at that moment to hold back.

 

With as much control as he could muster, he entered slowly and carefully, incapable of thinking any longer. There was only heat and tightness and the movement of their conjoined bodies. He worked a hand underneath Sirius until he could feel the firmness of an erection against his fingers. Then he started to thrust in earnest, jerking his arm to the same rhythm until they both came—not together, but it was close enough.

 

Lying there, in the dirt, wrapped around Sirius, Remus felt the past welling up inside him, and he was painfully aware how desperately he was clutching at the body that contained Sirius. It was the third time that Remus would have to come to terms with no longer having Sirius in his life. He savoured the moment, knowing that it could be the last time, knowing that this opportunity was a gift. There was no reason for either of them to move until the Tracing Charm had finished, and this closeness was something that Remus wanted to imprint on his memory forever. So when Sirius spoke, it brought Remus back to the reality of a teenage Sirius with a thud.

 

"You're gonna have to shift. I really need a piss, mate."

 

**

 

Although kissing had been involved, it had been two days since Harry had been alone with Remus for long enough to get up to anything too traumatic. Two days of worrying about when Remus would want another hand-job or perhaps more than that. And tonight, it looked as if Remus would get the opportunity to take things further. Harry tried not to mull over all that implied as he continued rifling through his godfather's things.

 

"What are you looking for this time, Sirius?" James asked from his bed, the afternoon sunshine making him squint.

 

"I'll tell you when I find it," Harry replied. He had quickly realised that obscure comments, just like this one, were the easiest way to avoid answering questions. It seemed that everyone was used to Sirius's flippancy and saw the task of trying to scratch beneath the surface as a pointless one. So, now, he didn't have to explain that he was hoping he would find a certain book amongst Sirius's possessions.

 

The Restricted Section had proved a dead-end the day before, when he had made a couple of attempts to look through the books there. He soon found out that not only was Sirius barred, but a younger and just as stern Madame Pince had set up magical wards alerting her to his presence.

 

The past two days hadn't all been filled with worrying over Remus and searching for the book. He was getting used to finding out more about his dad and seeing his mum up close, even if she did have a tendency to insult him. He was also becoming more and more comfortable with kissing Remus, too.

 

A twinge of guilt twisted Harry’s insides at his hope that Remus would have to spend the night in the Hospital Wing. With the full moon due the following evening, Remus had started to look increasingly pale and worn out over the past couple of days. Harry had been secretly alarmed at first, but said nothing as the other three were quick to dismiss it as a bad month. But on the way back from lunch, Remus had passed out in the corridor and they had to levitate him to Pomfrey. He still hadn’t returned, and Harry felt decidedly ambivalent about this.

 

"We've got to go, Prongs," Peter said, stacking his Charms books on the floor before sliding them under the bed.

 

"How could she do it to us on a Sunday?" James moaned as he stood and straightened out his clothing. He then ruffled his hair and glared at Harry. "We'll see you later, traitor."

 

Then Harry was left alone as James and Peter went for their detention—a detention that Harry wasn't party to because he had refused to get involved with hexing Snape. Harry had professed that it wasn't worth wasting his energy, certainly not for an unprovoked attack. But in truth, he hadn't been able to join in, not after what Snape had done four months previously. He had intervened and stopped Harry from destroying an Horcrux, insisting on doing it himself and dying in the process. When James tried to involve Harry that morning, Snape’s last words rang clearly in Harry’s mind: "I do this for Albus, not for you, you ungrateful wretch." Snape might have always hated Harry, but he had been concerned with doing the right thing, after all.

 

The door to the dormitory clicked open bringing Harry back to the present. His heart rose and fell at the same time when he looked up to see a pale Remus cautiously making his way to the bed. Sitting down, Remus caught Harry staring at him and smiled fondly.

 

"I passed James and Peter in the corridor," Remus said. "Peter told me you were worrying over me this afternoon."

 

Harry nodded, dropping his eyes guiltily to the floor.

 

"You're not getting mushy on me?" Remus asked with a chuckle.

 

The sound of Remus's amused voice helped to disperse Harry's anxiety, and he got up, briefly wondering what Sirius usually did under these circumstances, and then deciding that some things didn't need thinking about.

 

"Can I get you anything?" he asked.

 

"A glass of water would be nice."

 

Harry immediately went to fetch a cup from the bathroom and handed it over, sitting on the bed next to Remus as he did so and watching Remus drink greedily.

 

"Thanks," Remus said, finishing the water and setting down the empty cup. Harry didn't have time to think when Remus gently pulled him in for a kiss and then coaxed him to lie down.

 

"What's that on your face?" Remus asked, his finger brushing across Harry’s forehead, right where the scar used to be. He licked his finger and rubbed. “Bit of a black smudge. I think you need a wash, Padfoot.” Chuckling, he kissed Harry again, and then added, “I'm not sure I'm up to anything much today, Sirius. I’m ready to pass out.”

 

"That's okay. This is... nice—just lying here together."

 

"Are you sure Snape didn't hex you on Friday?" Remus said, his fingers drifting back to circle disconcertingly above Harry’s left eyebrow. "You’re not testing me to see if I haven’t become too clingy? Or are you just after something?"

 

"No," Harry protested, "nothing like that." Remus continued to stare at him suspiciously and Harry knew that Remus was expecting some sort of revelation from Sirius about his apparently too-tender behaviour. For a moment, Harry didn't know what to say, but then he realised that it was all too obvious. "Would you get a book for me from the Restricted Section?"

 

Remus started to chuckle. "I knew it. What book do you want?"

 

"Magicartes Primartes."

 

"I haven't heard of that one. Is it for a prank?"

 

"Er, yeah, but James and Peter don't know about it, yet."

 

Remus considered this briefly before saying with a mischievous grin, "So you want me to get the book and keep secrets for you? It's going to cost you."

 

"What do you want?"

 

"I know I said I wasn't up to doing much, but I'd be quite capable of lying here while you suck me off."

 

Harry's jaw dropped. "I... you..." he stammered, shaking his head and sternly reminding himself that he was Sirius and if he made it out to be a big deal, then he'd have to have a good reason. He couldn't think of any good reasons. There were no escape routes—not unless McGonagall went soft on James and Peter and let them go early, and that wasn't likely. "Could we, er, do the role play thing, like last time?" he tentatively asked.

 

In answer, Remus undid his trousers and pulled them and his briefs down to his knees, motioning for Harry to lock the door. Harry then moved to sit astride Remus's legs and vowed that, when he got back, he would never ever cast another unknown spell again, not without getting at least a dozen others to check it through for him. Taking Harry’s hand, Remus guided it to the base of his erection, and with an embarrassed flush, proceeded to talk Harry through the horrible assignment.

 

It was warm and salty, but once Harry had started to get the hang of it, the experience was not nearly as terrible as he had anticipated. Remus kept making suggestions in an attempt to get Sirius up to his usual standards, and this gave Harry lots of ideas for his own wanking habits. And just when he was starting to appreciate the effect he was having on Remus, it was all over, with Harry feeling grateful for Remus's timely warning.

 

With Remus’s tiredness creeping up on him, Harry helped him into his pyjamas before being persuaded to sleep in Remus's bed for a while. He was far too comfortable leaning back onto Remus's chest, far too sated and warm. If only he had someone to talk to about his feelings, about what was happening between him and Remus. If only Ron was there with him. Falling asleep with Remus’s arm draped across him was a lonely experience when there was no best friend available to help him understand what it all meant.

 

 

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