lol i’m so busy and the ending legit sucks but here’s a little bit of writing!!! ??? love y’all!!!
The moon had been vicious, but, Sirius could tell, the aftermath was the more trying collections of moments for Remus. He watched from his seat on the toilet lid as Remus traced the freshest of the pink scars on his face in the mirror. It tore gently from his right temple, hooked and skipped along the inner corner of his eyebrow, over his nose, and then hooked left sharply beneath his eye. It was from his own hand, and was catching people’s eyes more than usual. Sirius watched Remus watch the eyes of students, watched him see the words of whatever conversation they were having die in their mouth, elbows nudge each other to “look, look.”
“Re.”
Remus leaned back from the mirror, hands dropping numbly to his sides, “I know, I know. It’s fine, I just…I have to get used to it.” He sighed, turning and looping his bag around his shoulder. He ran one more hand over his face before looking at Sirius, “Just like all the others.”
Sirius stood too, pulling his bag with him. He stepped forward, hands reaching up to trail his knuckles along Remus’ cheeks, before pushing up on his toes to kiss where it arched over his nose, then were it just nicked his brow, “I love you. And I love all of them, you god damn sexy survivor.”
Remus snorted, using two fingers to turn Sirius’ face away, “Merlin, don’t ever call me that again.” But before they pushed the bathroom door open, revealing themselves once again the the streaming halls, he tilted his chin down, a silent request, and Sirius met his mouth half way, “I love you.”
Sirius spent Charms watching Remus defiantly not duck his head, not stoop beneath the stares. His back was almost unnaturally straight, and Sirius reached up with the hand not holding his quill, pressing his fingers into the back of his neck and rubbing there with soft swipes of his thumbs, working out the knots. Remus sent him a look, a soft, silent laugh, and rolled his shoulders, nodding.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
Sirius shook his head and gave one last squeeze in place of the kiss he’d much rather press there, and turned towards the front again.
Not five minutes later, when Remus had just finally relaxed into his normal posture, a whisper came from behind them.
“Hey, Lupin. Lupin.”
Sirius sat up just as stiffly as Remus this time. He didn’t turn though, and out of the corner of his eye he begged Remus not to either. But Remus’ face shift slightly, just barely acknowledging Carrow’s baritone sneer.
“Nice face.”
Remus sighed, “Very original, Carrow.”
There was a short, humorous laugh from behind them, “What happened? Black finally taking after his mummy? Decided to try his own hand out on the closest specimen?”
Sirius’ breathing caught somewhere between his lungs and throat, and he barely had a second to look over at Remus, to tell him not to listen—
Remus’ face was stone, shoving his chair backwards and whirling, scar white on his clenched jaw, his livid cheeks, “What did you say?” He stooped down, lean and tall, his anger seeming to heighten him, and shoved Carrow’s desk into his chest, knocking the breath out of him with a surprised gasp, “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
He wasn’t yelling. He was just above whispering. It was all the more intimidating. Sirius didn’t realize he was on his feet until Professor Flitwick’s squeaky voice rang out.
“Mr. Lupin! Mr. Black! What—Do sit down! Goodness, or remove yourselves.”
Sirius let out a long breath, eyes frozen on Remus’ clenched fists, knuckles standing out stark, “Sorry,” he breathed again, heart going a mile a minute, “Sorry, Professor.”
He grabbed their bags, leaving their open ink and quills, and stepped around their chairs, hand tight on Remus’ forearm as he pulled him from the classroom. Eyes followed them to the door, but the empty hallway wasn’t any more breathable, not when Remus still hadn’t said a word, not when he didn’t even look like he was breathing.
“Remus, it’s fine,” Sirius said through his teeth, “it’s fine, I—Fuck, come on.”
He turned the corner, praying to Merlin that the Room of Requirement hadn’t moved since last week when they had located it for an entirely different reason one night after a Quidditch party. When the doors appeared after a moment, Sirius let out a long breath, and pushed them through the doors, letting them seal shut behind them. Remus tore out of his grasp, shuttering, and Sirius felt utterly helpless as he faced the barrier of his hunched shoulders.
He tried again, “Remus,”
“I can’t believe he said that.” Remus pushed his hands through his hair, turning with a disbelieving laugh, “Actually I can. Fuck, fuck—“
“Who cares? Re, who fucking cares?”
“I do.” Now he was yelling, “I—“ He passed a hand over his mouth, like his words were bitter on his tongue, “Padfoot. Sirius, I…” He shoulders, finally, slumped, as did his voice, “I hate that they think that about you.” His stepped forward suddenly, eyes golden and burning, “How can they think that about you?”
Sirius pressed his palms to Remus’ chest. Feeling the rapid pulse there, he smoothed them downwards a few times, just a few inches, as if he could sooth the wild beat, “Re, people think wrongly about everyone. No one knows me like you do, no one knows you like I do, so who fucking cares?” He raised an eyebrow, “You don’t seem to care when it’s about you.”
Remus sighed, “Yeah, well, you’re…” He pressed his lips together, and they just stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Remus’ hands covered Sirius’ on his chest and the corner of his mouth lifted, making Sirius’ do the same.
“Feeling a little less wound up?”
“Yes.” Remus grumbled, “But can we not go back to class?”
Sirius’ eyebrows rose.
Remus rolled his eyes, “Yes, yes, I said it. Please?”
Sirius snorted, “You don’t have to tell me twice.” He looped an arm around Remus’ hips, tilting his head up to press a kiss to a scar on his neck, “Common room?”
Remus just nodded with a returning kiss to Sirius’ temple, and they left both Charms and any thoughts about Carrow and scars behind.
