All the young dudes

Chapter 15: station to station

If that sends a cold bolt of fear through James' insides like it does to Peters', James doesn't show it. "We've known all along it'd be dangerous. It's what we signed up for, all of us."

"I didn't," Remus says. "All along I've tried to stop you!"

A scoff makes Peter turn around; he almost forgot Sirius was there. "Bullshit. You could've told somebody. If you really didn't want us to do it you could've stopped us, but you didn't." He fixes icy eyes on Remus. "You can't keep trying for immunity, Mr Prefect. You're one of us, you're in it. All of it."

They stare at each other.

"Alright," Remus says. "You're right. I accept the responsibility. But I won't let it happen tonight." When he looks up his eyes seek out James. "Please."

"No way!" Sirius goes to James, imploring. It's understood, after all these years, that the decision will always be up to James. "Prongs, come on! You know this is stupid, let's just do the thing already!"

But James doesn't look at him. He watches Remus, a solemn, thoughtful look on his face. Finally, he sighs. "Alright."

Sirius balks. "Alright? You cannot be okay with this, with, with-- starting over from scratch!"

"I think it's time we listened to what Remus wants."

Silence is heavy in the dusty, broken down shack.

"Thank you," Remus says.

"Yeah," James says. "So, where d'you reckon we start?"

***

Sirius goes back to his normal self so quickly after the new moon that it makes Remus suspicious. He confides to James about this.

"D'you reckon he's still angry with me?" Remus asks in an undertone one day in Herbology. "Not like him to keep it to himself. I thought he'd be sulking."

James looks surprised. "No, mate. He knows we were right. Well, you were right." He shrugs. "Real moment of growth for him, I think. Our little boy's growing up." Then James goes back to attempting to prune his Chinese Chomping Cabbage without losing a hand and they never discuss it again.

Remus still can't believe his luck. The one obstacle before him wiped away so easily, without even a bit of Sirius' characteristic stormy silence as a price? It's too easy. As the cold and dark January melts into a wet and grey February, he finds himself so happy that he doesn't trust it. It must be a trick, an illusion, how utterly, stupidly blissful he is these days. The Animagus project has been successfully deflected, and he won't have to deal with the imminent deaths of his friends for another five months at least.

And Sirius. Sirius, who doesn't stay angry with him but instead drags him into broom cupboards during his prefect patrol hours; Sirius, who is causing his marks to take a nosedive; Sirius, who is open and giddy and affectionate with him in a way he's never been before. Remus is no stranger to the feeling of "too good to be true". He's trying hard to shake it. 

Two weeks go by like this, in this state of precarious happiness, before Remus wakes on the morning of his sixteenth birthday to semidarkness and a human-shaped weight on top of him. He blinks, bleary. Sirius comes into focus, hovering above him on all fours.

"Happy birthday," he whispers.

Still dazed, Remus blinks again. "You really are a dog," he mumbles.

Sirius' grin goes wider, and without warning he ducks his head and licks a stripe up the side of Remus' face.

He sputters and grimaces, Sirius cackling all the while. Wiping his cheek with the sheet, Remus mutters, "I really should've seen that coming."

Sirius muffles his laughter into the bedclothes. He surfaces after a moment, loose-limbed and bright-eyed, his hair wild with sleep. The sun hasn't quite risen yet, just a faint milkiness in a sky that promises rain; the curtains drawn round the four poster shrink the world down to fit just the two of them. This sort of quiet, small hours intimacy has been familiar to them since they were eleven years old. It's yet to stop doing things to Remus' heart. "So," Sirius says, rolling the word between his teeth, "how's it feel to be sixteen, then?"