Feb. 24th, 2011 05:03 pm
Fic: These Four Kings (Year Six 6/9)
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fox_confessorTitle: These Four Kings (Year Six 6/9)
Author: Dani (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
escribo)
Word Count: 2500~
Rating: PG-13 (language)
(Pairings: in the future will be Remus/Sirius, Lily/James)
Timeline: April 1977
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. I've not made nor seek any profit.
Year 1: one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven
Year 2: one/ two/ three/ four
Year 3: one/ two/three/four
Year 4 (coming in the future when work quits eating my brains! Sorry for the out-of-order-ness)
Year 5 one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven/ eight
Year 6 one/ two/ three/ four/ five
Sirius crumpled the Transfiguration essay he'd started an hour ago and tossed it into the fireplace, watching it crisp and curl into ash. He'd been sitting in the same place--the couch nearest the fire in the Gryffindor common room--since classes ended, waiting for Remus to come in. It was nearly dinner and he hadn't yet; neither had James or Peter. He both hoped they were all three off together doing marauderly things, and that they weren't because he hated the thought of being intentionally excluded.
It'd been like this for nearly three weeks, and Sirius was becoming convinced that nothing would ever be the same again. There was no Quidditch practice to distract him because he'd been kicked off the team for the rest of the year. No Hogsmeade weekends to look forward to because he was forbidden to leave the school grounds. He had one more week of nightly detentions to wade through (sometimes quite literally when McGonagall was in the mood) and he couldn't even bear to think of the number of house points he'd lost for Gryffindor. Dumbledore hadn't given him any punishment, trusting that Sirius' conscience would level the necessary chastisement. It was Professor McGonagall who hadn't agreed, and while Sirius better liked her way of punishing him because it had a clear beginning and end, he knew now what Dumbledore had meant.
All his favorite things had been taken from him, but the most important of them was Remus. Not that Remus was gone--he was still there, same as always, but Sirius couldn't touch him. Couldn't reach him. Everything had been taken away in one go, and it hadn't hurt nearly this bad when his mother had said she couldn't bear to look at him and would never have him near her again. Then he'd scoffed and laughed, taking his leave of Grimmauld Place confident in the knowledge that James would always stand by his side no matter what and that Remus needed him, even if no one else in the world did. Sirius didn't think he needed anything else, certainly not his mother's approval, his father's name, or his inheritance.
He'd known the instant the moon set that last time that he'd made a huge mistake in letting his temper get the best of him. They'd been alone--no Prongs or Wormtail to help Padfoot keep the wolf in check, and, having been denied his prey, Sirius spent a rough night alone with the werewolf in the Shrieking Shack. Once it was over, Sirius had barely enough time to transform and hide before Madame Pomfrey had come for Remus. Sirius'd gone straight back to the tower, looking for James, and James didn't let him get more than a few steps in before he was on top of Sirius asking what he'd done. He had carried the busted lip and black eye for a week. They were healed now (with time and not magic) but their fight replayed constantly in his head:
"What did you do, Sirius? He was there. He knows about Remus."
"It was just a joke--a prank. I didn't think he'd listen to me."
"What did you tell him? Do you have any idea what you've done?"
James had known Sirius was lying the moment he'd said it was a joke. Sirius had meant it, every word, because in that moment he had hated Severus and hadn't cared what would happen to him. He cared now, of course, but then he hadn't stopped to think what would have happened to Remus had Severus been hurt or worse, or what could have happened to James when he rushed to save them all.
Worse than remembering what James had said and done and thought were his memories of Remus later that day in the infirmary. Remus hadn't been told yet by the time Sirius was allowed to see him. Dumbledore had thought it important as a way of making Sirius take responsibility for his actions (like apologizing to Severus, which Sirius had so far refused to do), and Sirius had done so gladly, assuming that Remus would forgive him anything once he'd heard the explanation, but Sirius had found he had no words to explain what he'd done. In the end, Remus had turned his back on Sirius when he learned the reason why Sirius hadn't been there when Remus woke up like Sirius had promised, and Remus hadn't spoken to him since, or to hardly anyone else for that matter. He would have even spent his birthday alone if Sirius hadn't hunted him down where he'd hidden in a disused chamber near the north tower, and then asked Lily to go to him. She hated Sirius now, too, more than she usually did, though he couldn't believe that Remus would have told her the whole story, and James swore he hadn't either.
Of course, James had been the first to forgive, standing up with Sirius when he challenged Evan Rosier to a duel only just that past Saturday night behind the greenhouses. Dumbledore had sworn Severus to secrecy, but the Slytherins still sensed discord amongst the Marauders and sought to take advantage. But Remus wasn't eleven anymore and gave as good as he got without needing to ask James or Sirius for help. It earned Remus a round of detentions and McGonagall’s concern. When Remus still wouldn't say anything and the fights didn't abate, McGonagall called Sirius to her office. Over tea, shortbread, and a lengthy, stilted conversation, they came to an understanding and Sirius put an end to the Slytherin harassment, which led to the duel in the first place.
They'd both managed to avoid detention for that particular fight and the Slytherins had backed down, leaving Remus in peace and avoiding both James and Sirius after seeing what had happened (and what was rumored to have happened) to Rosier. It'd come as a surprise to Sirius when Remus hadn't been as happy with the outcome. He'd entertained too many fantasies about a relieved Remus coming to him (at night, always at night) and letting Sirius whisper his apologies against his skin, and Remus saying it was all right, that he understood. Of course, Remus was never going to understand, and he certainly wasn't going to let Sirius touch him ever again.
He was so mired in his own thoughts that he didn't notice when James came through the portrait and sat next to him on the couch. When Sirius finally did notice, James still didn't speak right away but seemed to be struggling a bit. He rubbed the lenses of his glasses with a fistful of his robe and then again before he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, stewing over whatever thought had brought him to Sirius' side.
"McGonagall's made me prefect," James spit out when it seemed like he couldn't hold it back anymore.
Sirius started, his book, parchment and quill falling from his lap and onto the floor as he half stood. "She can't have. It wasn't Remus fault. She can't take that from him."
"She didn't. He gave it up." James glanced at Sirius and then away, troubled, and something in Sirius' chest twisted hard. "I don't get why you did it, Sirius."
Sirius didn't answer. He knew he had no words, so didn't speak, didn't move--couldn't. Remus often acted like it was the greatest burden in the world to have been made prefect, especially knowing that he was meant (and failed) to exert some sort of influence over his friends, but he had loved it--never abusing his privileges even when he couldn't quite say no to his friends.
James waited for him to say something--anything--and when the silence still stretched out between them, he pushed his hands through his hair, making it stand on ends, and huffed out a breath. "Is it because you found out about Remus and Colin Edwards?"
"What? No!"
"I just meant--" James stopped and looked at Sirius again. Sirius suspected James was trying to suss out whether or not he was lying to him again. "Remus has always been different, and it's not unheard of for two blokes--two Wizards to--"
"Stop! He would have told me if he'd been with that swot. He told me everything."
"I know."
"Even it were true, which it's not--Remus would never be interested in someone like him, but even if it were--if he had been. I can't believe you would think it was because of that. That I would care." James said nothing, only just delicately raised his eyebrow. Sirius chose to ignore him. "I didn't do it to hurt Remus."
"Then explain it to me, and don't tell me that you didn't mean for it to happen. I know you better. I know it wasn't some joke that got out of hand."
Sirius abruptly stood and paced the length of the room. They weren't alone anymore but they'd been given wide berth, whether due their reputation or some rumor about what had happened Sirius didn't know. Didn't care. He retraced his path a second time before he stopped in front of the hearth, his hands on his hips and his head hung low. He stood there for many minutes thinking that maybe James had left him, and that maybe he deserved to be alone, until he felt James' hand on his shoulder.
"I didn't mean for it happen the way it did, James. You know I would never do anything on purpose to hurt Remus." Sirius' voice broke on Remus' name because he knew he had hurt Remus. He felt a rush of gratitude when James whispered I know. "He wouldn't leave Remus alone. You know how he is--always following our Moony. Never giving him a moment's peace. That night in the infirmary, I knew he knew. I didn't have to tell him anything because he already knew and he meant to expose Remus. I couldn't let him do that."
"You could have told me, Sirius. We could have figured it out together."
"I didn't think. I was so angry, I couldn't think. I just did it."
"Sirius--"
"And now Remus won't talk to me so that I can explain it to him."
"Maybe you should just give him some space."
"I don't want to."
"I've noticed, but maybe that's what he needs right now."
"I don't want him to hate me."
"He doesn't."
Sirius jerked his head up, relief flooding through him and making him feeling a bit weak on his feet. James bit his lip though, a sure sign that he was already regretting what he'd said. "Did he tell you that?"
"Not exactly."
"This is all my fault. He'll never forgive me."
"I'm sure he already has, even if he hasn't said it. He would, wouldn't he."
"That's worse though, isn't it. He'd forgive me anything, or I thought he would, which is exactly why I can't forgive myself." Sirius pulled away from James and collapsed back onto the couch, grabbing a tattered pillow and hugging it to his chest. "Tell me how to fix it, James."
"I'm trying. You won't listen to me."
"I can't just walk away from him."
"I didn't say that. It's not about giving up on him," James said as he sat back on the couch next to Sirius. "Just give him some time. He's clearly not in his right mind. No one is if they've allowed me to become prefect. Just give it time."
Sirius gave a dejected little nod, not convinced at all. He knew Remus better than anyone, knew that if he gave Remus space that an entire ocean would open up between them. Remus was too used to building barriers. James was right that things would seem to right themselves after a bit but Remus would never confide in Sirius again, would never let Sirius comfort him. Would never allow Sirius to touch him. It was already too much for Sirius to know he would never get another chance to kiss Remus, but to have nothing at all...
"James," Sirius started and stopped. Swallowed hard. Tossed the pillow down and started to worry a loose thread on his robe. He ordered his words and abandoned them again, blushing hard when James stared at him. He reminded himself of Gryffindor courage and the solemn swear he'd made to himself not to lie to James ever again (which had come along with the promise to never, ever again betray Remus and that's where his thoughts went dodgy). James sat up and mimicked his posture of elbows on knees, hands clasped, and nudged Sirius' shoulder with his own, and somewhere Sirius found the nerve to say what he'd swore most of all he'd never say to anyone else. "I love him."
"We all--"
"No, James. I'm in love with him. Have been forever. You know what you were saying, about Remus being different? It's not him. It's me whose different."
"Merlin."
"I know."
"But you were with--"
"I know."
"Does Remus know?"
"I kissed him last summer."
"Oh. Oh, that's what he meant--"
"He told you?"
"No, not exactly. It was months ago. I thought. Never mind, it doesn't matter. Shit."
"You don't hate me?"
"Don't be stupid."
"Are you still sure he doesn't hate me?"
"Yeah." James stood and sat back down. "You have to tell him."
"No."
"You have to tell him."
"No, James. No. Could you imagine? Sorry I ruined your life, and oh, by the way. No. I only said I kissed him. He didn't kiss me back. At least not really--not. He's not keen. I don't know what this Colin Edwards business is all about--"
"Peter told me some Hufflepuffs saw them."
"Peter and Hufflepuffs. Great. Remus would have told me, James."
"Yeah, okay. But you have to talk to him."
"I know."
"Do you want me to talk to him?"
"No. Yes. No. You can't tell him. You can't tell anyone."
"I wouldn't. I won't, but I could talk to Remus. He's still talking to me. I could tell him--"
"No."
At that moment Remus stumbled through the portrait, towering over a group of first years--the ones he tutored, and Sirius was thankful to see that he hadn't given that up, too. They smiled and waved at Remus, and Remus' lips twitched into something resembling a smile, though the first years never noticed that it was anything else as they went off to join the rest of their friends. Remus was nearly to the stairs that led to their room before he looked up. Their eyes met and two bright circles of pink blossomed on Remus' cheeks and he looked away quickly before Sirius could raise a hand or say anything but watched as Remus trudged up the stairs. Sirius could tell by the set of Remus' shoulders and how his footsteps seemed to slow a bit more on each tread that Remus was tired, exhausted. Sirius could read his shame and disappointment, his grief, as clearly as if he'd written it on his skin.
"He'll come around, Padfoot," James said, and Sirius tried very hard to believe him.
next.
Author: Dani (
escribo)
Word Count: 2500~
Rating: PG-13 (language)
(Pairings: in the future will be Remus/Sirius, Lily/James)
Timeline: April 1977
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. I've not made nor seek any profit.
Year 1: one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven
Year 2: one/ two/ three/ four
Year 3: one/ two/three/four
Year 4 (coming in the future when work quits eating my brains! Sorry for the out-of-order-ness)
Year 5 one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven/ eight
Year 6 one/ two/ three/ four/ five
Sirius crumpled the Transfiguration essay he'd started an hour ago and tossed it into the fireplace, watching it crisp and curl into ash. He'd been sitting in the same place--the couch nearest the fire in the Gryffindor common room--since classes ended, waiting for Remus to come in. It was nearly dinner and he hadn't yet; neither had James or Peter. He both hoped they were all three off together doing marauderly things, and that they weren't because he hated the thought of being intentionally excluded.
It'd been like this for nearly three weeks, and Sirius was becoming convinced that nothing would ever be the same again. There was no Quidditch practice to distract him because he'd been kicked off the team for the rest of the year. No Hogsmeade weekends to look forward to because he was forbidden to leave the school grounds. He had one more week of nightly detentions to wade through (sometimes quite literally when McGonagall was in the mood) and he couldn't even bear to think of the number of house points he'd lost for Gryffindor. Dumbledore hadn't given him any punishment, trusting that Sirius' conscience would level the necessary chastisement. It was Professor McGonagall who hadn't agreed, and while Sirius better liked her way of punishing him because it had a clear beginning and end, he knew now what Dumbledore had meant.
All his favorite things had been taken from him, but the most important of them was Remus. Not that Remus was gone--he was still there, same as always, but Sirius couldn't touch him. Couldn't reach him. Everything had been taken away in one go, and it hadn't hurt nearly this bad when his mother had said she couldn't bear to look at him and would never have him near her again. Then he'd scoffed and laughed, taking his leave of Grimmauld Place confident in the knowledge that James would always stand by his side no matter what and that Remus needed him, even if no one else in the world did. Sirius didn't think he needed anything else, certainly not his mother's approval, his father's name, or his inheritance.
He'd known the instant the moon set that last time that he'd made a huge mistake in letting his temper get the best of him. They'd been alone--no Prongs or Wormtail to help Padfoot keep the wolf in check, and, having been denied his prey, Sirius spent a rough night alone with the werewolf in the Shrieking Shack. Once it was over, Sirius had barely enough time to transform and hide before Madame Pomfrey had come for Remus. Sirius'd gone straight back to the tower, looking for James, and James didn't let him get more than a few steps in before he was on top of Sirius asking what he'd done. He had carried the busted lip and black eye for a week. They were healed now (with time and not magic) but their fight replayed constantly in his head:
"What did you do, Sirius? He was there. He knows about Remus."
"It was just a joke--a prank. I didn't think he'd listen to me."
"What did you tell him? Do you have any idea what you've done?"
James had known Sirius was lying the moment he'd said it was a joke. Sirius had meant it, every word, because in that moment he had hated Severus and hadn't cared what would happen to him. He cared now, of course, but then he hadn't stopped to think what would have happened to Remus had Severus been hurt or worse, or what could have happened to James when he rushed to save them all.
Worse than remembering what James had said and done and thought were his memories of Remus later that day in the infirmary. Remus hadn't been told yet by the time Sirius was allowed to see him. Dumbledore had thought it important as a way of making Sirius take responsibility for his actions (like apologizing to Severus, which Sirius had so far refused to do), and Sirius had done so gladly, assuming that Remus would forgive him anything once he'd heard the explanation, but Sirius had found he had no words to explain what he'd done. In the end, Remus had turned his back on Sirius when he learned the reason why Sirius hadn't been there when Remus woke up like Sirius had promised, and Remus hadn't spoken to him since, or to hardly anyone else for that matter. He would have even spent his birthday alone if Sirius hadn't hunted him down where he'd hidden in a disused chamber near the north tower, and then asked Lily to go to him. She hated Sirius now, too, more than she usually did, though he couldn't believe that Remus would have told her the whole story, and James swore he hadn't either.
Of course, James had been the first to forgive, standing up with Sirius when he challenged Evan Rosier to a duel only just that past Saturday night behind the greenhouses. Dumbledore had sworn Severus to secrecy, but the Slytherins still sensed discord amongst the Marauders and sought to take advantage. But Remus wasn't eleven anymore and gave as good as he got without needing to ask James or Sirius for help. It earned Remus a round of detentions and McGonagall’s concern. When Remus still wouldn't say anything and the fights didn't abate, McGonagall called Sirius to her office. Over tea, shortbread, and a lengthy, stilted conversation, they came to an understanding and Sirius put an end to the Slytherin harassment, which led to the duel in the first place.
They'd both managed to avoid detention for that particular fight and the Slytherins had backed down, leaving Remus in peace and avoiding both James and Sirius after seeing what had happened (and what was rumored to have happened) to Rosier. It'd come as a surprise to Sirius when Remus hadn't been as happy with the outcome. He'd entertained too many fantasies about a relieved Remus coming to him (at night, always at night) and letting Sirius whisper his apologies against his skin, and Remus saying it was all right, that he understood. Of course, Remus was never going to understand, and he certainly wasn't going to let Sirius touch him ever again.
He was so mired in his own thoughts that he didn't notice when James came through the portrait and sat next to him on the couch. When Sirius finally did notice, James still didn't speak right away but seemed to be struggling a bit. He rubbed the lenses of his glasses with a fistful of his robe and then again before he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, stewing over whatever thought had brought him to Sirius' side.
"McGonagall's made me prefect," James spit out when it seemed like he couldn't hold it back anymore.
Sirius started, his book, parchment and quill falling from his lap and onto the floor as he half stood. "She can't have. It wasn't Remus fault. She can't take that from him."
"She didn't. He gave it up." James glanced at Sirius and then away, troubled, and something in Sirius' chest twisted hard. "I don't get why you did it, Sirius."
Sirius didn't answer. He knew he had no words, so didn't speak, didn't move--couldn't. Remus often acted like it was the greatest burden in the world to have been made prefect, especially knowing that he was meant (and failed) to exert some sort of influence over his friends, but he had loved it--never abusing his privileges even when he couldn't quite say no to his friends.
James waited for him to say something--anything--and when the silence still stretched out between them, he pushed his hands through his hair, making it stand on ends, and huffed out a breath. "Is it because you found out about Remus and Colin Edwards?"
"What? No!"
"I just meant--" James stopped and looked at Sirius again. Sirius suspected James was trying to suss out whether or not he was lying to him again. "Remus has always been different, and it's not unheard of for two blokes--two Wizards to--"
"Stop! He would have told me if he'd been with that swot. He told me everything."
"I know."
"Even it were true, which it's not--Remus would never be interested in someone like him, but even if it were--if he had been. I can't believe you would think it was because of that. That I would care." James said nothing, only just delicately raised his eyebrow. Sirius chose to ignore him. "I didn't do it to hurt Remus."
"Then explain it to me, and don't tell me that you didn't mean for it to happen. I know you better. I know it wasn't some joke that got out of hand."
Sirius abruptly stood and paced the length of the room. They weren't alone anymore but they'd been given wide berth, whether due their reputation or some rumor about what had happened Sirius didn't know. Didn't care. He retraced his path a second time before he stopped in front of the hearth, his hands on his hips and his head hung low. He stood there for many minutes thinking that maybe James had left him, and that maybe he deserved to be alone, until he felt James' hand on his shoulder.
"I didn't mean for it happen the way it did, James. You know I would never do anything on purpose to hurt Remus." Sirius' voice broke on Remus' name because he knew he had hurt Remus. He felt a rush of gratitude when James whispered I know. "He wouldn't leave Remus alone. You know how he is--always following our Moony. Never giving him a moment's peace. That night in the infirmary, I knew he knew. I didn't have to tell him anything because he already knew and he meant to expose Remus. I couldn't let him do that."
"You could have told me, Sirius. We could have figured it out together."
"I didn't think. I was so angry, I couldn't think. I just did it."
"Sirius--"
"And now Remus won't talk to me so that I can explain it to him."
"Maybe you should just give him some space."
"I don't want to."
"I've noticed, but maybe that's what he needs right now."
"I don't want him to hate me."
"He doesn't."
Sirius jerked his head up, relief flooding through him and making him feeling a bit weak on his feet. James bit his lip though, a sure sign that he was already regretting what he'd said. "Did he tell you that?"
"Not exactly."
"This is all my fault. He'll never forgive me."
"I'm sure he already has, even if he hasn't said it. He would, wouldn't he."
"That's worse though, isn't it. He'd forgive me anything, or I thought he would, which is exactly why I can't forgive myself." Sirius pulled away from James and collapsed back onto the couch, grabbing a tattered pillow and hugging it to his chest. "Tell me how to fix it, James."
"I'm trying. You won't listen to me."
"I can't just walk away from him."
"I didn't say that. It's not about giving up on him," James said as he sat back on the couch next to Sirius. "Just give him some time. He's clearly not in his right mind. No one is if they've allowed me to become prefect. Just give it time."
Sirius gave a dejected little nod, not convinced at all. He knew Remus better than anyone, knew that if he gave Remus space that an entire ocean would open up between them. Remus was too used to building barriers. James was right that things would seem to right themselves after a bit but Remus would never confide in Sirius again, would never let Sirius comfort him. Would never allow Sirius to touch him. It was already too much for Sirius to know he would never get another chance to kiss Remus, but to have nothing at all...
"James," Sirius started and stopped. Swallowed hard. Tossed the pillow down and started to worry a loose thread on his robe. He ordered his words and abandoned them again, blushing hard when James stared at him. He reminded himself of Gryffindor courage and the solemn swear he'd made to himself not to lie to James ever again (which had come along with the promise to never, ever again betray Remus and that's where his thoughts went dodgy). James sat up and mimicked his posture of elbows on knees, hands clasped, and nudged Sirius' shoulder with his own, and somewhere Sirius found the nerve to say what he'd swore most of all he'd never say to anyone else. "I love him."
"We all--"
"No, James. I'm in love with him. Have been forever. You know what you were saying, about Remus being different? It's not him. It's me whose different."
"Merlin."
"I know."
"But you were with--"
"I know."
"Does Remus know?"
"I kissed him last summer."
"Oh. Oh, that's what he meant--"
"He told you?"
"No, not exactly. It was months ago. I thought. Never mind, it doesn't matter. Shit."
"You don't hate me?"
"Don't be stupid."
"Are you still sure he doesn't hate me?"
"Yeah." James stood and sat back down. "You have to tell him."
"No."
"You have to tell him."
"No, James. No. Could you imagine? Sorry I ruined your life, and oh, by the way. No. I only said I kissed him. He didn't kiss me back. At least not really--not. He's not keen. I don't know what this Colin Edwards business is all about--"
"Peter told me some Hufflepuffs saw them."
"Peter and Hufflepuffs. Great. Remus would have told me, James."
"Yeah, okay. But you have to talk to him."
"I know."
"Do you want me to talk to him?"
"No. Yes. No. You can't tell him. You can't tell anyone."
"I wouldn't. I won't, but I could talk to Remus. He's still talking to me. I could tell him--"
"No."
At that moment Remus stumbled through the portrait, towering over a group of first years--the ones he tutored, and Sirius was thankful to see that he hadn't given that up, too. They smiled and waved at Remus, and Remus' lips twitched into something resembling a smile, though the first years never noticed that it was anything else as they went off to join the rest of their friends. Remus was nearly to the stairs that led to their room before he looked up. Their eyes met and two bright circles of pink blossomed on Remus' cheeks and he looked away quickly before Sirius could raise a hand or say anything but watched as Remus trudged up the stairs. Sirius could tell by the set of Remus' shoulders and how his footsteps seemed to slow a bit more on each tread that Remus was tired, exhausted. Sirius could read his shame and disappointment, his grief, as clearly as if he'd written it on his skin.
"He'll come around, Padfoot," James said, and Sirius tried very hard to believe him.
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