HP fic "And Everything In Between" (PG-NC17) (1/3)
Title: And Everything In Between Rating: Part 1 is PG, Part 2 is NC17, and Part 3 is PG13. Summary: Sirius isn't the centre of Remus' world. Sirius is Not Pleased. Marauders-era, and completely spoiler-free, for those of you worried. A/N: Billions of kisses to kellygreen for the beta, and I'm sorry I was such a nag. You're a brilliant beta, and I love you! Also, this fic was started about a thousand years ago for the incomparable brak4werewolves -- sorry it was so long in the making!
Remus Lupin was a creature of habit.
Every evening, after classes were done and supper consumed, after homework was finished and checked and carefully set aside, he could nearly always be found curled up comfortably in one of the squashy common room armchairs, nose firmly planted in a book and seemingly oblivious to anything outside of it. And if he wasn’t there, then he was curled up in bed, asleep.
Sirius Black was also a creature of habit, though not obviously so. He, too, could be found spending his evenings in the Gryffindor common room, playing a startlingly violent version of wizard chess, or plotting mischief, or chatting up attractive specimens of the female persuasion. But underneath it all, underneath the chess and the chatting and the plotting, he would watch Remus. Without being remotely obvious about it, Sirius had gleaned that Remus thought his fringe was too long (he was always pushing it impatiently out of his eyes), and that the reason the ends of Remus’ quills were always ragged was because he absently chewed on them when lost in thought. He watched each evening for the stifled yawns that signaled that Remus was about to head up to bed, for those yawns meant Sirius would soon follow.
So when, one evening, Remus finished up his homework and put away his quills and slipped out of the common room without so much as a by-your-leave, Sirius wasn’t far behind.
He followed Remus, ducking behind various corners and statues and suits of armor whenever the other boy stopped to look behind him. Every so often Remus would pause, head cocked to one side as if listening. Sirius hid in whatever darkened recesses he could find, holding his breath, while Remus glanced thoughtfully at the seemingly empty corridor.
“Sirius?” Remus asked, frowning.
The corridor remained silent, and Remus moved on.
~ ~ ~
Sirius wasn’t at all surprised to find himself at the doors to the Hogwarts library a short while later. It was, of course, well known as one of Remus’ favourite haunts - right after Honeydukes’ Sweetshop.
He paused, one hand lightly resting atop the heavy door handles. Suppose Remus should see him? Sirius chewed anxiously on his bottom lip while he considered this. A book! I’m looking for a book! Of course! It was a library. But… a book? Sirius? Would Remus believe that?
I can tell him I’m looking for some new and interesting hex to use on Snivellus, he decided, and firmly pushed open the library doors.
No Remus.
Sirius moved slowly through the library, trying very hard to look inconspicuous. Who has time to read all these? he wondered. Suddenly he spotted Remus sitting quietly at a small table wedged into a corner. Sirius quickly grabbed a book at random, glancing at it just long enough to see the word hex in the title, and furtively ducked into the next aisle. At the far end of the aisle was a fat armchair which provided him with a clear view of Remus. Well, Sirius realized, squinting between the shelves of books, a nearly clear view.
Unsurprisingly, Remus was reading.
He could have done that in the common room, Sirius thought peevishly. But, he realised, his breath catching slightly, here Remus was sitting by a lamp, the golden glow of which had turned the ends of Remus’ hair to honeyed fire spilling over the edges of his collar. Here, Sirius could stare directly at Remus all he wanted, stare at him practically face-on and no one would be the wiser.
You could just tell Remus you fancy him, said a very small voice inside Sirius’ head.
Sirius ignored the voice. He wasn’t about to tell Remus anything of the sort. Remus was, after all, one of his closest friends, and he wasn’t about to risk that friendship over some daft hormonal urge.
Except, he realised glumly, watching Remus turn pages with one slender hand, it wasn’t just hormones. He didn’t know when it had happened, but Sirius had fallen for the other boy, and fallen hard.
Right, he decided. I’m going to go over and talk to him. We’re mates; nothing weird about just talking to him. I talk to him all the bloody time. Sirius stood up.
And then sat down again, mouth agape. Someone else had had the audacity to talk to Remus first, and Remus appeared to be quite pleased about it.
Leaving the book he’d grabbed in the chair, Sirius slunk out of the library and back to the dorm.
~ ~ ~
It was a Ravenclaw, Sirius found out later, by the name of Gareth Jones.
“Hestia’s brother,” Lily said. “Why d’you want to know?”
“Just wondering,” Sirius said evasively. “Remus spends a lot of time with him, doesn’t he?”
Lily shrugged. “So? He can spend time with who he wants to, can’t he? I mean, I constantly question his taste in friends, but he isn’t about to abandon you or James or Peter.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Sirius scoffed, and tried to believe it.
~ ~ ~
Not quite a week later, Sirius happened to see Remus and the Ravenclaw - Sirius flatly refused to call the other boy by name - stepping into the prefects’ bathroom together. He hadn’t been following Remus; no one could really call it that. He’d just happened to be in the same corridor. Really. And should anyone be curious as to why he was constantly ducking behind statues and into alcoves, Sirius would have scoffed and haughtily explained that he was plotting a prank that involved surveillance of the prefects’ loo. Of course, no one would ask what Sirius was up to; they knew better.
Sirius hated the Ravenclaw. He hated him more than Snape (if that was indeed possible), more than all the slimy Slytherins put together. He hated the Ravenclaw’s dark wavy hair, and his dancing cobalt eyes - not that he’d noticed such things, oh no! He hated the throaty laugh and the broad shoulders and the perfectly manicured fingernails. Sirius glanced ruefully down at his own hands, the pads of his fingers calloused from countless hours at Quidditch, the nails ragged and bitten.
The bathroom door opened. Sirius blinked. For a moment there… but no. It couldn’t be. Had they been holding hands?
Sirius ducked out from behind the pillar, wincing as his cramped knees cracked audibly. “Ah, Remus!” he said brightly. “There you are!”
“What are you doing?” Remus hissed as Sirius bodily dragged him down the hallway. He shook Sirius off impatiently, glaring at him.
“What am I doing?” Sirius asked, actually astonished. “What are you doing with that… that… that Ravenclaw?”
Remus regarded him coolly. “I’d say that’s my business, Sirius.”
“All you do these days is hang around with him!” Sirius continued. “No one sees you! I don’t see you!”
“You see plenty of me,” Remus retorted. “I suppose you thought I hadn’t noticed you skulking around? You’re not nearly as covert as you’d like to think, you know.” He glanced back down the corridor but the Ravenclaw was long gone. “This discussion is over, Sirius.”
“Wait,” Sirius pleaded, clutching at Remus’ elbow. “How can you be…? Are you… You and him… “Sirius’ words tumbled over each other as he fought to say everything at once.
“His name’s Gareth,” Remus said, deftly wriggling out of Sirius’ grip. “Hestia Jones’ brother.”
“I know his sodding name!” Sirius yelled, waving his arms emphatically. “I just can’t say it! Makes me sound like a fairy, like I’ve got a bloody lisp!”
Remus’ eyes widened. “Oh, Merlin,” he whispered, and quickly choked back a threatening giggle. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m not bloody jealous,” snapped Sirius, even as he realised with sinking dismay that he might indeed be jealous, and very much so.
“My, my,” Remus chuckled. “This hardly bodes well for your reputation as stalwart ladies’ man.”
“I am not jealous!” Sirius roared. “It’s just that you’re wasting yourself! He doesn’t know anything important about you, does he? You know what I mean,” he added, and Remus flinched.
“No,” Remus said quietly. “I haven’t told him that I’m... No. I haven't told him that.”
Sirius plunged on. “And you won’t. You can’t. He’d never stand by you; you know it. You do,” he insisted, hating the way Remus’ face darkened and fell at that, and hating more that he’d caused that look. Sirius sighed, softening his voice. “You don’t need him anyway. You need to find someone who isn’t going to care about… about your furry little problem. You need someone who’s going to like you, warts and all. You need…”
“Someone like you?” Remus asked, one eyebrow arched questioningly.
Sirius shut up.
“And I haven’t got warts,” Remus added.
“It’s just a saying,” Sirius muttered sullenly. “I have to go … ah… somewhere… now.”
“You do that,” Remus said levelly, and turned on his heel and walked away.