"Say Frosty!" Hope exclaims, her eye pressed to the small hole in the polaroid.
"Frosty!" the four Marauders utter while keeping a smile.
Hope collects the fourth picture of the boys and positions to take another.
"Mum," Remus says reaching out for the camera. "We've done enough."
"One more. Please?"
James grabs Remus' candy cane striped suspenders and pulls him back forcefully before letting go. The suspenders snap against his back and Remus jumps in annoyance, flicking James' reindeer antlers. They stood in a line with Peter who has an elf hat on, and Sirius, who was wearing his Santa hat. The Christmas tree behind them was decked in many homemade ornaments and twinkled with sparkling white lights.
The final flash goes off and the boys break apart, their faces sore from smiling.
"One for everybody," Hope says distributing out the pictures.
Remus takes back his camera, slipping the strap over his head. "Thanks mum."
"Thanks Hope," the three boys repeat in synch.
Much of the day is spent lounging around the house with Hope's favorite muggle Christmas songs playing from the radio. Her voice carried through the house joyously with perfect pitch. She was a jack of all trades, really; Hope loved art and painting, singing, dancing, writing, and baking. Peter had gotten himself roped into helping Hope bake gingerbread cookies, and James willingly joined to watch her bake. She was no Lily Evans, nobody could compare to her in his mind, but she was a sight for sore eyes. And James was more than happy to frost the cookies.
Remus went to change out of the ridiculous outfit his mum made him wear for pictures, but distracted himself with a little light reading. Well, light meaning being completely wrapped up in the book. He bobs his slippers, jingling the tiny bell at the toes, while skimming through the first chapter of The Outsiders.
"Remus?" Sirius' voice calls, knocking on the door twice.
"In here," Remus answers.
"Reading?"
"Surprised?"
"Not in the slightest." Sirius shuts the door behind him, sitting on the edge of the bed. His Santa hat has been removed, leaving his hair slightly disheveled. "I'm glad you like the book."
Remus' expression changes for a mere second, but is quickly replaced with a smile. "I do."
"But...it's not the same as your old copy."
Remus shamefully looks down, picking at his blanket. "No. That one holds a lot of memories for me. But this means a lot," he holds the book up briefly, "I'm so grateful you got me another one."
"So what's so special about it?"
"It's a long story."
Sirius lays on the bed, resting on his side while propped onto his elbow. "I've got time."
Remus rolls his eyes, placing the book face down to hold its place. "You're impossible, you know?"
"It's my middle name. Sirius Impossible Black." He nudges Remus' foot with his, playfully. "Come on, the story?"
"Okay fine." Remus traces the edges of the new book reminiscing over the first time he'd ever received the story. "It was the night before my first year at Hogwarts. I...had nobody. Just my parents. My mum has always been the same, accepting and loving no matter what I seemed to do. Even when I accidentally knocked over her paintings as a kid she would just find ways to make the spills better. But my dad. Ever since I was bitten he's been ashamed of me. Kids in the neighborhood always saw me as that weird bloke who was always ill with some rare disease. They never played with me or wanted to be my friend. When I look at my dad, all I can see is the shame I put on the family. I know he loves me. In other ways. But it's hard to tell sometimes...
"Every full moon was getting worse than the last and my anxiety going to Hogwarts didn't make it better. Dad was so afraid of people finding out about me, about my...condition. He lashed out on me so often I believed him. I'm this monster. This disgrace."
Sirius shifts closer and puts his hand on Remus' leg. The motion is comforting, allowing Remus to push through the pain of the memories and continue.
"I was destroying myself on the inside. All this pressure not to reveal myself to anybody, to please my dad, to be accepted! The older I got the more dark my thoughts became. And I was probably going to kill myself by the next full moon. But then there was my mum. She's my best friend, really. The night of August 31st she came into my room with a wrapped gift. It was grey parchment painted over to look like a nighttime sky. And a full moon. At first I thought it was a joke, that she was going to yell at me not to expose myself at Hogwarts too. But then I opened it. And it was The Outsiders." Remus sniffles, wiping his eyes with the inside of his arm. "She told me that if I ever felt alone to read it and remember that I'm never really alone. We share the same sunset no matter how far apart we are."
"She's an extraordinary woman," Sirius says.
"She is. She's the best mum I could ever ask for." Sirius runs his tongue along his bottom lip, fixating his eyes on the wall to keep his composure. "I had that book for six years."
Sirius meets his eyes, a glimpse of hope within the bright amber. "Remus. I -"
"You don't know how much it means to me that you would buy me a new book. I can't even imagine you walking into a muggle store."
Sirius chuckles, tearing his eyes away, "It wasn't so bad. Until that bloody six year old cut me in line..."
Remus lurches forward, pulling Sirius into a back breaking hug. Sirius melts into the embrace, resting his head on Remus' shoulder. He swallows the words that lingered in his mind and lets the warmth and comfort envelope him.
There's not one word to fully describe the feeling Remus gets when he touches Sirius. It's as if everything is right with the world and nothing bad can ever happen. Every touch is magnetic. Every look is captivating. But there's a needle floating around the perfect bubble, pressing against the frail enclosure every time it felt too perfect. Just one little thought that keeps Remus up at night. A string of words that cracked his fragile heart.
Sirius Black didn't want a relationship. Ever.
*
*
*
Days drag by during the holiday break. It's mostly the same. The snow falls. The sun shines. The Marauders marauder. Remus had gone to the Potter household numerous of times to hangout, but the past few days had been quite lonely at the house. Of course he had his parents to keep company. They went to a matinee of A Christmas Carol and had dinners together every night. Remus even helped his mother paint a mural on the only blank space in the spare room: the ceiling.
Remus lounges on his bed flipping through the pictures he'd taken so far at Hogwarts. They were his favorite of any by far. And that may or may not have had anything to do with Sirius being the main focus of most if not all.
A light tap occurs at his window only to stop. And then reoccur. Remus cups his hands around his eyes to stare into the blackness when a paper airplane came smashing right at the window again. He jumps back alarmed, carefully hoisting his brittle window up. The parchment flew in, did a little loop, and landed gracefully on his desk.
Remus shuts the window with a surprising amount of effort and unfolds the plane.
Meet me outside
-SB
Remus hastily shoves his feet into the nearest pair of shoes, smashing the heel down rather than actually putting it on to save time. He makes his way down the stairs briskly and swings open the front door.
"Sirius?" Remus whispers. The boy is standing on the porch with his broomstick in hand. He turns as if in slow motion, the breeze flowing through his hair angelically. "What're you doing here?"
"Wanted to see you," Sirius answers with a roguish smirk.
"Now? It's-"
"It's almost midnight," Sirius replies with raised eyebrows. "Only a minute left until New Years. You know, the tradition is to kiss."
"Of course - it's bad luck not to."
"Wouldn't want that, would you?"
In the village minutes away from Remus' home, a series of fireworks rockets into the sky to signal the New Year. Sirius tucks his fingers around the belt loops of Remus' pants, pulling the boy closer until they were pressed against each other. His fingers weave through the strands of Remus' hair, bringing him down to let their lips touch. Remus' lips are soft and supple against his before vying for control. Remus presses his arm against the wall, pinning it next to Sirius' head as he deepens the kiss.
The florescent blues and reds of the fireworks burst overhead, but the noise drowns to nothing in Remus' ear. It's like the world stops because nothing is as important as the person right in front of him.
Electricity runs through his fingertips as Sirius drags his hands to rest over Remus' heart. "Happy New Year Remus," he breathes out.
"Happy New Year Sirius."
"I should get back before they figure out I've gone."
Remus steps aside as Sirius mounts his broomstick. He brushes his hair out of his face and turns around with a wink. Snowflakes flutter down from the night sky as Sirius blends in with the night sky. Remus stalls outside as not to let the moment be over, but eventually pulls himself back to reality. He kicks the snow off of his shoes and sets them beside the door. Hope would never let him forget if he was the one to track water over the floors.
"Remus," Lyall calls from the living room.
"Dad?" Remus hesitates, peering into the adjacent room. Lyall sits in his work clothes, shoes and all. A single lamp is the only source of light in the darkened house. "What're you doing?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
A chill runs up Remus' spine as he answers, "Um, I just wanted to watch the fireworks."
"With Sirius Black?"
"Y-you saw?"
Lyall uncrosses his legs, leaning forward with a menacing glare behind his specs. "Hope fell asleep reading, so I thought I'd come down and get a cup of tea before bed. Wouldn't have thought to see my son locking lips with the wretched heir to the Black family!" He stands precipitously, taking no less than three strides to come face to face with Remus.
"I-I can explain."
"Explain? That you've fooled all of us! Me? Your loving mother? Abigail? What the hell could you explain to make this any less wrong?"
"Dad -"
"No. No son of mine is gay!" Lyall pushes his hand over Remus' chest until the latter is slammed against the wall. Remus doesn't dare move, aside from his eyes that are darting around frightened. Lyall leans down next to Remus, his lips inches away from his son's ear when he speaks with a malevolent undertone, "Isn't being a werewolf sickening enough?" His grip on Remus releases suddenly and he stalks away with clenched fists.
Remus can only watch the man who raised him - the man he sought approval from most - vanish into the shadows; his breaths come out ragged as he gasps for oxygen, sinking down onto the floor in shambles as if he'd been stupefied.