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à©â©â§âË the time turner | poly!wolfstar
pairing: poly!wolfstar x reader
summary: when Sirius and Remus travel back in time for an Order mission, they come face to face with you: their girlfriend who died during the first Wizarding War
ÖŽ àŁȘđ€.á content warning: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, grief, smoking, death, gore, blood, graphic descriptions, age gap due to time-turning magic, swearing, dark themes, older sirius black, young sirius black, older remus lupin, young remus lupin, morally grey wolfstar and there is nothing they wouldn't do for you
word count: 9.3k
author's note: unfortunately not proofread. sorry!
áŻâ ËËË navigation or read part two here or part three here
Remus sat with his back to Sirius, running his hand across the windowsill, his gaze flickering over the snowy scene of a December Hogsmeade afternoon. It was only four oâclock, but the sky was already dark, and the street was nearly deserted. A few people headed into the Hogâs Head across the street, their laughs carrying all the way up and becoming muffled in Remusâ ears. He heard Siriusâ heavy sigh for the hundredth time that night.
âStop,â Remus said sternly, though his voice wavered, his eyes clenching. âYou know that youâre lucky they even let you come with me. If we do it, youâll never see the sky again, Sirius. Theyâll keep you locked at Grimmauld Place.â
âThey canât do that to me.â
âThey very well can, Sirius! And you know they can! Itâs either that or back to Azkaban. Please, feel free to choose,â Remusâ voice dripped with sarcasm, so stabbing it was painful.Â
âMaybe itâs worth it,â Sirius said, and his voice broke. With it, Remusâ heart. He turned to face the darker-haired man, taking in the way his mouth curled, and his silver eyes shone. Remus had to look away. âMaybe Iâd die for one last moment with her, Remus. Just one more time where the three of us areâ where we are whole: where sheâs with us! Donât you want that? You canât say you donât think about itâabout herâall of the time, too!â
âOf course I do!â Remus suddenly exploded, standing from the chair and holding his palms to his temples. âDonât evenâdonât you dare for a minute insinuate that I donât miss her with every fibre of my fucking being! You have no idea what it was like when you were in Azkabanâwhen I thought Iâd lost both of you! How much I wished you both were here!â
Sirius scowled. âImagine how I felt from my cell!â
Remusâ hands trembled as he shook his head, turning from Sirius. âSave the story, Sirius. Iâve heard it a hundred times before.â
âYouâre such a dick.â
âYou want me to break the law, Sirius! Youâd like for us to go against the Orderâs wishes to seeâto go and see her, and fuck, Sirius, Merlin knows how much Iâd kill to see her again, but we canât! Horrible, terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time! We were given strict ordersâto retrieve Jamesâ cloak. We canât let anyone see us, Sirius!â
Sirius felt like he could rip his hair from his head. Instead, he bit his knuckles. âBut horrible things happened to us anyway, Remus! How the fuck could it get any worse than itâs ended up? Thereâs another war raging on. I went to Azkaban, you spent thirteen years alone, and Y/N is fucking dead! Sheâs gone, and you canât even say her fucking name!â He watched Remusâ face go completely white. âGo on, say it, Remus! Because I havenât heard you say her name since she wasâsince she was here with us!â
Remusâ fists curled. âFuck off, will you?â
âI said your names every single day when I was in Azkaban! I refused to forget any of it. Any of what we had! Just say it, Remus!â Siriusâ voice rose to yelling, and he stood from the bed. âGo on. Itâs Y/Nâin case you fucking forgot. Say Y/Nâs naââ
Remus caught Siriusâ wrists when Sirius went to shove him, his large hands gripping him hard. âYouâll be back in Azkaban if we were caught! And Iâd be in the cell next to yours! Is that what you want?â âI donât careââ
âOf course you donât, but one of us needs to think rationally. You said youâd be fine doing this when Moody asked! You saidââ
Sirius jerked away from Remus, his face stony and his glare cold. âFuck off, Remus.â
Remus rolled his eyes and quickly shuffled for the pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket. He watched Sirius stalk back over to the bed and chuck himself in it, yanking the duvet up to his shoulders. He felt the strain in his chest and his throat, his eyes growing incredibly hot as he propped open the innâs window. He lit his cigarette and hung his head out into the cold air, and only then did he let the tears drip down his face.
He glared at the snowy pavement, seething with rageâfurious that Sirius had put him in such an awful position, angry at you for no longer being here, and absolutely sickened at the fact that he had the time turner around his neck. He couldnât use it for the one thing in the world that he wanted.Â
He glanced over at the vibrant pink and green sweet shop. Honeydukes was always the first place you went to, every Hogsmeade trip, and you always used to get the same thingâtoffees and a chocolate frog. Across from Honeydukes was the bench where the three of you had drunkenly admitted your feelings for one another back in your sixth year. He stubbed his cigarette out on the windowsill hard and then lit a second one.Â
 When he finished and shut the window, he turned, and the room was cold and smelled of nicotine. He pulled off his clothes and got into the bed next to Sirius, careful not to touch himâapprehensive that the feeling of their skin touching would only fuel their furies.Â
Siriusâ voice was thick with clogged tears when he spoke a few minutes later, filling the heavy silence. âWe donât work without her, Remus. You know that.â
He bit the inside of his cheek and didnât say anything for a long while. He thought Sirius might have fallen asleep, and perhaps that was how he gained the courage to speak.Â
âI miss Y/N all of the time,â he whispered, barely audible. âI miss her first thing in the morning, and the last thing at night. I think about what the three of us had back then. It was the last time I was actually happy. And we all took it for granted.â
âWe were idiots,â Sirius whispered back croakily. âYoung, and we all thought that made us fucking invincible or something.â
âIt should have woken us up when Marlene died.â
âTheyââ Siriusâ voice cracked. âPeter was always going to have to kill Y/N if he wanted to frame me and make you go away. There was nothing we could have done.â
Remusâ fists clenched. He scrunched his eyes shut. âShe loved Peter.â
Sirius choked. âWhat he did to herââ He felt physical pain shudder through his system. âThe state he left her inâHe was fucking brutal, Remus.â
âI know,â Remus whispered, his eyes growing fuzzy, his brain numb.Â
âShe didnât deserve that. She was stillâshe was alive when Iââ
âI know,â Remus said, harder. âI already know.â
Sirius lifted his shaky hands as if he could still see the blood on them, even in the dark. Remus reached over to encase one of them, and he tugged his hand against his chest. Sirius shook as he cried, wriggling closer to Remus, sobbing into his chest. Remus felt himself begin to crumble, too.Â
âShe was only twenty-one.â
And that was enough for Remus to really sob. They were in their late thirties now. Remus was aware they were never supposed to get this old without you. You had always spoken of your future together, every word as optimistic as the last. You were supposed to be here. He would let you take his place any day. Heâd let you and Sirius have this at the drop of a hatâyou deserved to see the world beyond the first war.Â
âJust one more time,â Remus whispered, and he grasped Siriusâ hand tighter in both of his, moving them upward from his chest to the time turner sitting around his neck, engulfing the cool metal.Â
Siriusâ eyes were wide and wet with shock. âRemus?â
Remus spun the time turner back and back and backâall the way to 1978, before they had become soldiers for the Order.
ââ .âŠ
Remus inhaled the familiar smell of the Hogwarts corridors. Heâd been here only a few years ago at his temporary position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but somehow, this felt different. Perhaps it was because Sirius was by his side, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that they had gone back to the 1970s. He swallowed as he glanced around at the empty halls, his expression nearly matching Siriusâ.Â
âMerlin,â Sirius muttered. âThis is fucking insane.â
Remus nodded in agreement. âThis was a bad idea.â
Sirius swatted him hard. âAre you fucking kidding me, Remus? Sheâs here! Sheâs in this building right now!â âAnd weâre nearly forty yearsââ
â-Iâm thirty-six, actuallyââ
âWe will not blend in with everybody else here! Weâre going to be noticed immediately,â Remus worried. âAnd Dumbledore will quickly realise weâre from the future, and weâll be hurled off toââ
Sirius grabbed Remusâ wrist and yanked him closer to an alcove despite the lack of anybody around them. âOkay, so weâll sneak into Slughornâs classroom. Heâs bound to have some sort of de-ageing potion.â
Remus scratched the back of his neck anxiously. âThis is so wrong, Sirius.â
âIâm not leaving here without seeing her, Remus,â he told him firmly, and Sirius took off in the direction of the dungeons, as if it hadnât been twenty years since they were last students here.Â
It was rather easy for Remus and Sirius to find the correct potion in Slughornâs storage cupboard. Sirius and James used to have their fair share of fun experimenting and swapping things over to cause chaos for early-morning potion lessons. Remus watched Sirius throw his head back and down the potion as if it were a shot at the bar, his face scrunching at the taste.
Sirius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, ridding the purple residue, and he blinked at Remus strangely. âWell? Do I look any different?â
Remus shook his head. âNo, youââ
Sirius suddenly jerked forward with a violent cough, one of his hands grabbing onto Remus. Remusâ hands gripped him, trying to keep him upright, his dark eyes wide.Â
âPads!â Remus panicked. âShit, are youââ
He watched the silvers that had been starting to appear on the back of Siriusâ head turn black again. His shoulders seemed to broaden ever so slightly, his body rejuvenating after the thirteen years spent malnourished in prison. Remus gawked, helping Sirius back up when heâd stopped trembling.
âSirius?â He whispered. âAre you alright?â
Sirius groaned and touched his forehead. âYeah, I think so.â His voice. Remus felt his heart skip a beat. He grasped Siriusâ head, forcing him to look at him, and Remus felt everything inside him freeze over and then promptly ignite. Gone were the first signs of wrinkles around his eyes and the bits of silver that had started to make an appearance on his head. Siriusâ stubble was gone, replaced with smooth, clear skinâhis eyes youthful, his face a little fuller.
âDid it work?â
Remus couldnât help but laugh. âIt fucking worked, Pads. It actually worked.â
âItâs your turn, Remus. Itâs your turn. Hurry!â
Sirius spent the next ten minutes looking at himself in the reflection in one of Slughornâs cauldrons, while the effects of Remusâ took place. The coat he was wearing suddenly felt looser, his back and hip far less stiff. Remus moved Sirius out of the way to look, touching his scarred face in awe at the youthful man looking back at him.Â
âHow long does this last?â He whispered in awe.
Sirius reached over to touch Remusâ face. âA few hours. Merlin, Rem. You look so young, itâs terrifying. We were so young when all of this was happening.â
Remus swallowed and touched Siriusâ hands. They were smooth. âIâm scared,â he suddenly admitted out loudâhe didnât even realise he was going to blurt it, and hadnât a clue that he was really feeling so anxious. âPart of me isnât sure I can handle seeing her, Sirius.â
Sirius exhaled and splayed his fingers broader on Remusâ face, as if to cup as much of him as he could in his palm. âYou can do it, Remus.â
âWhat if she asks questions, Sirius?â Remus whispered painfully. âI canât spend these moments lying to her. I canâtâI donât know if I can do this knowing itâs the last time Iâll see her. I accepted years ago that I never got to say goodbye. I canât say goodbye to her tonight, Sirius. I caââ He was cut off by a pair of lips pressing against his own. Remus hesitated for a moment before he kissed back, and he was startled by the familiarity of kissing a much younger Sirius. It almost felt wrong, and yet it felt like no time had passed, as if he was back home. He pressed his hands to Siriusâ arms as if to physically force himself off of him.Â
âShall we find her?â Sirius pleaded breathlessly.
Remus nodded, his chest tightening.Â
ââ .âŠ
âItâs only eleven at night, so chances are, everybodyâs in the common room,â Sirius said as they headed up one of the staircases.Â
Remus pulled a face. âYes, including us, Sirius. How are we going to get past that one, hm?â
Sirius chewed on his bottom lip. âErrrââ âMr Lupin!â Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, and both men jumped as they turned to face the older woman. âDid I or did I not tell you to stay put exactly where you were? You shouldnât be moving with your leg the way it is!â
Remus exchanged a panicked glance with Sirius. âEr, Iâm sorry, Madame Pomfrey. Itâs only, Iâve been feeling better, you see, and Sirius was just walking me back up the dorms. Iâd like to sleep in my own bed tonight.â
âMr Black, you should also be in bed!â Madame Pomfrey scowled. âYouâre in no position to be helping Mr Lupin yourself! Where on earth is your splint?â
It dawned on Remus very quickly which full moon had just occurred. He remembered it all too well, with a sick feeling in his stomach still to this day. He had badly hurt Sirius in his Animagus form, and Sirius had ended up with a snapped arm and a broken nose. It was the Christmas break, and you had stayed to not only keep Remus company over the full moon but also because you would rather be with them than back home.
 If Remus was remembering correctly, you were one of the only students to stay that year. The war was raging on, and people didnât feel as safe at Hogwarts anymore. Jamesâ father was starting to get sick, and he wanted to take Lily back to them for their first Christmas as a couple.Â
âMiss Y/L/N will come and see you boys first thing in the morning, she told you herself,â Madame Pomfrey scolded. Remus flinched, and Sirius nearly swayed in his spot. âSo get back down to the infirmary right now. Iâm heading back in ten minutesâI expect to see you back in your beds, and you with that splint on, Mr Black!â She turned away from them, marching down the corridor. âFor Merlinâs sake, these childrenâŠâ
âFuck,â Sirius said, holding his hand against his pounding heart as soon as they were out of sight of the school nurse. âThat was so fucking close. How lucky was that?â
âLucky,â Remus said, though he was hardly as amused as Sirius. âCome on, before I make us turn around.â
They hurried up the stairs even quicker than they had been going before. Remus took three steps at a time easily, though his legs felt like lead, as if they wanted to plant to the ground and stay there. When they reached the portrait of the fat lady, Sirius groaned.
âItâs you,â he said distastefully.Â
âNot the password!â She sang to him.Â
âWe donât have time for this. If youâd be so kind as to let us in,â Sirius said with a forced smile, his teeth practically gritted. âYou know who we are.â
âYou could be anybody!â The Fat Lady argued.Â
âDo I look like anybody to you?â Sirius huffed. âI am Sirius Black, you know exactly whoââ
The portrait swung open, causing the Fat Lady to scream unexpectedly. Her shrieks dimmed in both their ears, and their mouths dropped open. Remus swallowed thickly, his heart nearly coming out of his throat. Sirius was as silent as Remus had ever seen him.Â
You stood there, wearing one of Remusâ old knitted jumpersâone he still had at his home to this day, and the plaid bed shorts you swore matched it. You looked just as beautiful as they both remembered you, though your face was yanked down with the heavy weight of concern. Remus felt like he had been sliced open.Â
âI thought I heard you two bickering out here,â you said uncertainly, your furrowed brows scanning them both over. âOh, Merlin, I am so glad youâre both okay.â
You hopped from the small stair and landed with your arms thrown around both their shoulders. Your touch was all to familiar, like hearing a song you had completely forgotten about, and fuck, you smelled of the oils you ran through the ends of your hair each evening, and the moisturiser you always used to âbribeâ him or Sirius to slather on your skin (they were more than happy to do it for you, they just liked when you asked).Â
Remus thought he might be sick as he wrapped his arms around you, too. Sirius was as stiff as a board, his eyes startled as if somebody had just murdered his entire family in front of him.Â
âSirius,â you murmured as you pulled away, and your hand touched his face. He flinched back to life. âAre you okay, darling?â
Sirius choked a laugh and then began to laugh harder.Â
Remus anxiously grasped the back of Siriusâ neck, squeezing it gently. âI-I think maybe heâs still in shock. From last night.â
You nodded and traced your hand down so that it met with his. You squeezed his fingers. âCome on then. I didnât know Madame Pomfrey was going to let you both out tonight; otherwise, I might have asked the House Elves to prepare us all a nice dinner. I already ate something, but I could maybeââ
âWeâre fine, thank you, Y/N,â Remus murmured and followed you into the common room. It was easier to talk to you when he was covering for Sirius. If heâd had to speak purely for himself, he was sure he might be in the same boat.Â
Remus had visited your grave for more years than he had known you alive, and yet there you stood, walking around, smiling and doting over them as if nothing was wrong. He couldnât believe his eyes. He was sure heâd wake up, and it would be a dream.Â
âY/N,â Sirius suddenly rasped from where he sat on the sofa. You quickly turned to him. âY/N.â
He touched your face and then stroked your hair behind your ear. His eyes were darting all over you, as if he was looking for any sign of injury. He looked down at his hands after he had touched you, and he found no blood this time. Last time, his skin had been stained with it. Heâd woken up in his cell covered in the crimson that used to keep you alive, and they did not let him scrub it off of himself for weeks.Â
âSirius,â you repeated, and cocked your hide to the side with a small smile. âDo you want a cup of tea or something?â You reached up and touched his forehead. âYou are quite warm,â you told him.Â
âHeâs fine,â Remus said pointedly. âHow are you?â
You thought for a moment and then sighed, your face contorting into a pinched smile. âIâm okay. Better now that you two are here. It was awful without you last nightâitâs really scary in the tower alone.â
Remus felt the guilt start to eat him. Youâd been alone when it had happened. You had most likely been the most terrified you had ever been in your entire life.Â
âI missed you both,â you said, and ran a hand through Siriusâ hair.Â
He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.Â
âI missed you, too,â Sirius whispered, and his hand reached up to cup yours over his face.
You furrowed your brows at him. âWhy are you being so solemn, hm? Youâre concerning me a little bit, love. And youâre being awfully standoffish over there, too, Rem.â
Sirius shook his head quickly. âNo, no. I thinkâI think the full moon just reminded us that itâs scary when weâre all apart. And thatâand that anything could happen. Weâre just glad nothing happened to you.â
âBecause I wasnât stupid enough to chase after Rem when he clearly wanted to be alone,â you chuckled at Sirius and leaned forward to kiss him. âAlways have to insert yourself into places you donât belong, donât you?â
Sirius frowned. Remus nearly chuckled at the irony. She was right, and Sirius never grew out of it.Â
âItâs not a bad thing, sweetheart,â you told him affectionately. âJust donât like seeing you get hurt because of it. Itâs bad enough when Remus has torn himself apart every month. Donât need both of you in there.â
Both of them were in awe at your kindness. They had forgotten that people like you existed. Someone who was so understanding of themâsomeone who saw all of their flaws and loved them for them. You were so young, and yet so emotionally intelligent. Neither had met anybody like you before.Â
âIt wonât happen again,â Sirius whispered.Â
âIâll believe that when I see it!â You called with a laugh as you headed over to the staircase. âCome on then, we should head to bed. Itâs Christmas Eve tomorrow! Itâd be nice to take a walk through Hogsmeade if youâre both feeling up to it. Weâll need to check your hip first, Rem.â
Remus felt his heart lurch. He grasped Sirius when he stood to follow you eagerly.Â
âWe might stay down here for a little bit, baby,â Remus said as softly as he could, his brown eyes nearly melting in the warm lights of the Gryffindor common room. âWeâre not tired yet, but weâll follow you up.â
Sirius pulled away as you frowned. âButâbut I donât want to sleep without you again,â you said. âPlease, Rem. I donât mind youâre awake. You can read orâor do whatever youâd like, but I just want to sleep with you next to me.â
âOf course weâll come up with you, sweetheart,â Sirius said, and turned back to give Remus a wicked grin. âCome on, Remus. Donât be so ridiculous.â
Remus could have smacked Sirius. The look on your face was enough to make his heart burst in his chest. His logic was battling with his feelings, and he knew the right thing to do for all of you was to leave now, but he couldnât force himself. He found his long legs carrying him up the familiar staircase that led to their old dormitory. You pushed open the door like it was yours, and quickly rushed to jump into Siriusâ bed, which had been transfigured into a king-size at some point.Â
You wriggled under the covers. Remus glanced at Sirius and saw him staring at the bed at the end of the room. Jamesâ bed. His Quidditch kit was chucked over his chair, a pair of red Converse by the end of the bed as if he had been there only the other dayâbecause he had been. He bit down on his bottom lip and gently pulled Sirius over to you, who hadnât noticed the strange behaviour from the boys.Â
Sirius felt his face melt, and he was quick to head over, kneeling onto the bed and climbing into your side.Â
âYou need to put your pyjamas on!â You told him. âBoth of you, hurry.â
He laughed as your hands half-heartedly pushed him away. He opened the drawer at his bedside and then the one beneath. He couldnât quite remember where he put them untilâ
âIdiot,â you muttered and threw a pair of plaid trousers at his head. âUnder your pillow, remember?â
âRight,â Sirius said, and ripped his shirt from his body, then his trousers.Â
He pulled on the pyjamas and glanced over at Remus, who was doing the same. They were both moving like teenagers again, slightly more effortlessly than men in their late thirties. His gaze flickered to his own chest and his arms. He had the start of a couple of tattoos, but nowhere near as many as he got as soon as he had left Hogwarts. He felt naked.
âJames sent an owl asking how you both were, by the way,â you said, and it was so casual to you, and yet so horrific for them to hear as they got dressed. âHe said he feels bad for leaving while you were asleep, but I reminded him itâs not his fault. Oh, and Lily asked about you both, too.â
âWeâll owl them,â Remus said, his chest hollow, his smile fragile as he turned back to you and climbed into the bed.Â
You were in the middle tonight, it seemed, and neither of them was complaining. It was where you often ended up, if Sirius wasnât in a mood and desperately after the most attention.Â
âPete asked too,â you said, and all the blood left both their faces immediately. âHeâs such a sweetheart, honestly, you twoâhe sent in a box of chocolates for you both. Itâs got some of your favourites in it, Rem, but from the looks of it, he chose which ones went in himself. Itâs got a note and everything, bless him.â
âBless him?â Sirius retorted, his fists clenching the bedsheets.
He suddenly felt as sick as he did that day. He could see you lying on the kitchen floor of the house, which the three of you shared. Remus and Sirius werenât talking to each otherâthey were arguing for the hundredth time that week, and you were being a fucking saint putting up with them. It had ended particularly awful that morning, with both of them accusing the other of being the traitor that the Order was searching for. Remus was off doing werewolf-related tasks for the Order, and Sirius went out for a ride on his motorbike. It was better than having to listen to you and your excuses for Remus.
He walked slowly up the path, dreading your kindness, but the sight of your front door knocked open enough to make him feel nauseous. He was lightheaded all the way through to the kitchen, where your record player had stopped singing and instead rested on a static pause. The sink was full of cold, soapy water, dishes half done, and you had baked somethingâhe remembered the air was so sickly sweet that night. Cinnamon. He couldnât stand that smell anymore.Â
It had mixed with the scent of iron. He had nearly slipped on all of the blood. It was thick. It pooled over the tiles you used to dance on, it caked the hair he used to run his fingers through. Your dress was ripped, a slice down your arm that was obvious to him in seconds. Your chest was home to a massacre, and the kitchen knife you always used, because it was the sharpest, lay discarded feet away, painted crimson with your blood. Your wand had rolled beneath the table, your fingers still open like you were reaching for it.
You musnât have gone down without a fight. The kitchen was a mess.Â
He lay there for an hour next to you. He kept thinking about how this would be the last time heâd ever get to do it. Eventually, his howls dimmed, and he lay staring at the kitchen ceiling as lifelessly as you. Sirius dragged himself up from the floor. He needed to find Jamesâsee if James knew where Remus was. He needed Remus. Remus needed to know about you. Remus had no idea.Â
Sirius had continued to sob when he leaned over and gently grasped your wrists. He settled for leaving them on top of your stomach, and his fingers shakily reached to close your eyelids. He hovered over you for a few more minutes, and gripping the skirt of your dress, bunching the material as silent sobs racked through his body.Â
It took him another hour to get up. His legs felt like lead as he left you there. He wasnât sure he was fully alive as he Apparated to the back of the Potterâs cottage, where they often snuck in and out to avoid being noticed. Sirius startled when he found the air had shifted, a dark green cloud smoking over Jamesâ home, a snake coming from a skull.Â
He knew it was Peter immediately. The Secret-Keeper. Of course it was. He had been the traitor the entire time. Whilst Remus and Sirius had been pointing fingers at each other, Peter had been sitting there, often next to you, and he had probably been plotting all of your deaths. Sirius thought of James. Lily. Harry. You. He thought of you, and he knew what he had to do.Â
The rest of the night was such a blur to Sirius now. He remembered hunting down Peter in his Animagus form, using his sense of smell to realise he wasnât too far. He found him down a Muggle street in London, trembling and shaking down an alleyway. He remembered having Peter pinned, he remembered seeing blood down Peterâs arms, and a splatter across his face.Â
Peter himself was missing a couple of his fingers. You must have gotten him. Sirius remembered how furious he had been: that Peter had gotten away, and you were gone.Â
He was so furious that he wasnât thinking straight. He could only imagine your confusion, your hurt, and the agony you must have been in. He hurt Peter the Muggle way. He wanted him to hurt as much as he hurt you. Only, Peter seemed to be thinking more rationallyâ he drew his wand, and he created an explosion.Â
It was so large that Sirius had dropped him, and by the time heâd looked back, Peter was in his rat formâgone.Â
The Aurors arrested him near enough on the spot. He screamed and protested. He yanked at his chains and gritted his teeth as they told him he was going to be imprisoned for all of his crimes. He begged for Remus over and over again. His screams turned to laughter when he realised how easily he had been tricked by Peter Pettigrew. Everybody had underestimated him. Sirius himself had seen Peter as meek and underpowered. Sirius had lost absolutely everything in a matter of hours, and he had woken up that morning thinking the day would be no different from every other.Â
He went manic. He screamed and screamed all night. He rattled the bars of his cage until somebody Crucioâd him. He wondered if he was in as much pain as you had been when Peter had stabbed you over and over and over again. He told himself he deserved it for not being there for you. He deserved to rot behind bars just for that.Â
âDid Pete do something?â You asked, and Sirius nearly leaned over the side of the bed to be sick.Â
His eyes flickered over to Remus, who was watching you with such a haunted look that Sirius couldnât take it. Sirius thought to himself that if he were to ignore hindsight and the future, then he would be sending you off to your death. Youâd die again. It really would be his fault. He could have saved you. He should have saved you. He should haveâ
âI just donât really like him very much anymore,â Sirius murmured. âIâve⊠Iâve seen something in these tea leaves, okay? I saw something, and I didnât like it.â
You snorted and tapped Siriusâ chest. âYouâre rubbish at Divination! Last month, you thought you were going to end up riding a Hippogriff back to London!â
Sirius and Remus cast a look at each other, Siriusâ mouth slightly agape. âActually, I think I have a knack for it. Maybe my timingâs just a bit off.â
âSirius,â Remus warned.Â
âHe wonât freak me out, donât worry,â you reassured Remus, and patted his leg over the duvet. âWhy, Siri? What did you see that Peter did?â
Sirius swallowed and shut his eyes. âI have to go to the bathroom,â he panicked once he reopened them, and he was quick to dart away.Â
You worriedly watched him go and looked back at Remus. âWhatâs wrong with him, Rem? Seriously. Iâm worried about him. Heâs not acting like normal.â
Remus sighed heavily. âLet me go and check on him.â
He climbed carefully from the bed, walking over to the bathroom. Just as he touched the handle of the door, he glanced back at you. You were watching him, your head tilted curiously.Â
âWhat?â You asked.Â
He shook his head. âJust stay right there, okay? Iâll only be a few minutes.â
âI donât plan on going anywhere any time soon, donât you worry,â you told him innocently enough.Â
Remus shook his head and pulled open the door. He shut it behind him immediately when light poured through, and he found Sirius bent over the toilet, trembling.
âI canât do it, I canât do it,â he kept muttering.Â
Remus felt the rage ignite inside his chest, hot and raw. âSirius, this was your idea.â
âI thought I could handle a peaceful evening with her,â Sirius heaved. âBut I canât, Remus. How can we leave her here, knowing whatâs going to happen to her? Weâre essentially sentencing her to her death!â
Remusâ face curled, but his eyes were hot with tears. âItâs difficult. Itâs howâŠâ his voice broke. âItâs how itâs supposed to go.â
âYou donât even believe that!â Sirius shot back. âI can tell in your voice! You want to save her, too! Didnât we always promise her that weâd keep her safe, Remus? Didnât we? Look at her! Sheâs eighteen years old, and she only has three years left! Thatâs not fucking fair, Remus! Why did we get to live for so long, and she didnât?â
Theyâd had this conversation a hundred times since Azkaban. Sirius held a particular amount of survivorâs guilt and PTSD. Remus was slightly better at burying his grief and self-loathing, just about content enough to survive until he saw Voldemort and Peter dead. He always thought heâd see how he felt after that.Â
âSirius, I know,â Remus hushed him, smoothing his face with his hands. âI know. I know.â
âWe could save James and Lily, too,â Sirius said desperately. âAnd Marlene. Harryâd never have to go to the Dursleys. The second war would never have broken out. We just have to kill that fucking rat! Right now, Remus! I can gut him as he did to her!â
Remus closed his eyes, grounding himself by gripping Siriusâ shoulders. âCalm down, okay?â
âCalm downâ?â
âIf Harry and Lily didnât defeat Voldemort, who would have, Sirius? We were losing the war back then. If it had never happened, the Dark Lord most likely would have become even more powerful. Eventually, he would have taken over. Youâd have been used as an example of blood treason. James, too. Lily and the other Muggleborns would have probably been rounded up to be slaughtered. Iâd be carted off to the werewolf packs. Y/NâŠâ His face went green. âFuck, Sirius, Y/N would have probably been married off for her blood statusâused to repopulate the Purebloods.â
âYou donât know that!â Sirius seethed, but his face was crestfallen, his breathing rapid.Â
âYou donât know that wouldnât happen either, though, Sirius! Everything has a knock-on effect.â
âThenâŠâ He hesitated, a strangled expression over his face. âThen perhaps we can just try to save Y/N.â
He mentally apologised to James over and over and over again. Heâd make it up to him through Harry.Â
Remus covered his face with his hand. âYouâre not listening.â
âI donât care!â Sirius cried. âIs that what youâd like me to say, Remus? In all honesty, I will take whatever risk it is to give Y/N the chance of living! So we donât kill Peter then. Fine. But maybe we can make sure that Y/N is not in the house that night. That nothing bad happens to her that night. I wonâtâI wonât go to Azkaban, she wonât die, you wonât have to spend years alone, and Harry can have a family! The three of us can raise him, Remus. Weâll stop the second war from breaking out. Weâll let Peter go to Azkaban for what heâs done! Thatâs worse than death!â
Remus blinked, and for a few moments, it looked as though he was truly considering what Sirius was saying. Sirius could feel the hope blossoming and blooming in his chest. He grasped onto Remus and shook him impatiently, as if that would make him hurry up with his decision.Â
âWell? You look like you like my idea.â âOf course I do,â Remus melted. âOf course I want all of that to happen.â He tugged his lip between his teeth. âI have always said I would do anything to have her back.â
Sirius could have burst into tears. âRemus, donât say all of this to take it back. Please.â
âSirius, if we get caught, weâll be arrested at the very minimum.â
âIâd go back to Azkaban for a hundred years for her, Remus,â Sirius said so determinedly that the air knocked from Remusâ lungs, and it was as if Siriusâ words had burst Remusâ morality bubble for the first time that evening.
His body sagged, his eyes sinking. âYeah, me too, Pads.â âThen letâs risk it. Or give me the time turner, Rem. Iâll do it myself. We can send you back, and Iâll come and get her. Iâll make it right. Youâll never know the difference,â Sirius pleaded.
Remusâ trembling hand took Siriusâ, and he shook his head. âYou wonât have to do this alone, Sirius. Weâll do it together.â
There was a knock at the bathroom door, gentle and quiet. They both glanced at each other with softened eyes, and for the first time, their chests deflated. There was a feeling of ease knowing they were going to rewrite their story, that they would get to spend the rest of their lives together after all.Â
Remus moved forward and opened the door, letting it swing open. Your eyes squinted blearily at the bright light of the bathroom.Â
âSirius, are you okay?â You asked softly. âIâm sorry if I made you feel silly about your⊠vision of Peter. Itâs just⊠itâs Pete. Heâs our best friend.â
âY/N, I think we should all sit down and have a talk,â Remus suggested as calmly as he could muster, placing a hand on her arm, gently guiding her back into the roomâback to Siriusâ bed. âItâs probably best we come clean to you.â
You peer at them even more anxiously. âDid something happen? Oh Merlin, Sirius, is your arm actually okay?â
âMy arm is perfectly fine, baby,â Sirius couldnât help but laugh, and he wanted to lean in and peck your hairline, but he was scared youâd want him nowhere near you in the next few minutes, so he refrained. âItâs something else entirely.â
âAnd youâre clever,â Remus said. âSo weâre going to try not to sugar coat things. Itâs going to be⊠hard to listen to. But weâre here for you the whole time, alright, sweetheart? Okay?â
You hesitated, staring them both over for a few more moments. Then you nodded, and Remus took a deep breath.Â
âGood girl. Do you know what this is?â He reached under his shirt and pulled out a golden chain with a circular pendant.
You shook your head. âI donât think so, Rem.â
âThis is a time turner,â Remus explained. âDo you want to see how it works?â
âYeah,â you agreed, and Remus was positive you didnât fully understand the meaning behind his words from how nonchalantly you were reacting to the information he was giving you.Â
âGive me your hands, sweet,â he instructed, and when you did so, he cupped your hand beneath his and gave the time turner one small spin.Â
Suddenly, the two of you were standing up in the exact place you had been moments ago, right before you sat on the bed. The past versions of you disappeared, and Siriusâ gaze flickered between you both, his lips quirking up.Â
Your eyes were nearly bulging out of your sockets. âWhat just happened?â
âWe went back in time,â Remus explained. âOnly by a few seconds. Itâs not always good to go back too far.â
âWhen did you two get that?â You gaped and pinched your brows together at Sirius. âDid you steal it? Potter heirloom?â
âNo,â Sirius laughed. âNo stealing, not an heirloom. The Order gave it to us.â
You cocked a brow. âThe Order of the Phoenix?â
âYes.â
You nearly howled with laughter. âWell, thatâs absurd! Why would the Order of the Phoenix trust you two with a time turner? Youâre only eighteen years old, for goodness sake! Weâre still at school!â
The silence that followed quickly made your amused smile evaporate. It started to settle in that this was not a joking matter, and that they were being very serious. Your gaze flickered between them, and your eyes widened as you seemed to put two and two together.Â
âYou're not from this time, are you?â You whispered to them both.Â
âNo,â Sirius admitted quietly.Â
âBut how is that possible?â You demanded, standing from your seat and pacing, running a hand through your hair. âAre you from the future? By what? A couple of years? You both look exactly the same as you did when I saw you a few hours ago.â
âY/N,â Remus swallowed. âSit down.â
You did as you were told, but you felt incredibly lightheaded, the dizziness starting to make you sway a little. Sirius supported you with a large hand.Â
âWeâre from the future, yes,â Sirius said. âWeâre from, well, 1996.â
You paused. Your stomach flipped and your hands grew clammy. You stared at them both, unsurely.Â
âThis is a prank?â You asked, but you had a feeling even these two werenât such good actors. There was no way they would do this to you so close after a full moon. Even if Sirius had come up with the sick idea, you donât believe heâd ever be able to do it to you, and Remus would never agree to it anyway.
âNot a prank,â Remus assured her.Â
You were silent for a few moments. âWell, that would make you each thirty-six years old. Thatâs not possible, is it? You look so young. Do your appearances change with the time you go to?â
âWe took a de-ageing potion,â Remus admitted shamefully. âTo blend in.â
You stare for longer. âRem, I donât like this. Itâs not funny.â
âItâs not a joke, I swear on your life, sweetheart,â Remus said. âLook, I can prove it.â
He moved over to the coat heâd thrown over the chair and went into the pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes and a few crumpled bits of paper. âEr, receipts with the year on them.â He dug in the other one and found his wallet, taking his seat next to her again. âThatâs you. In the future.â
Sure enough, Remus opened his wallet and in the plastic covering was a small Polaroid of you. Your breath hitched and you took it from him. You looked hardly any different to the way you looked now, except your hair was cut differently, in a way you had never had it before, and this was your first time seeing the image.Â
âThatâs me?â
âThatâs you,â Sirius said thickly. âIn 1980.â
You shook your head. âWow. Well, this is only a couple of years away, then.â You handed it back to Remus. âWhy⊠Why are you showing me this? Why are you two here? Are my Remus and Sirius okay?â
âTheyâre fine, darling,â Remus said. âTheyâre still in the hospital wing healing, and if I remember correctly, theyâre anxious to come and see youâbut theyâre fine.â
You smile waveringly. âIs this to do with Peter, then? Like you said before? You donât like him?â
There was a long silence.
âWhat did the Order send you here to do?â
âThe Order didnât exactly send us here,â Sirius said. âThis was more of my idea, really. I justâŠâ
Your breath hitched at the look on his face. Suddenly, their strange behaviour made so much more sense. Sirius getting emotional, Remus becoming shut off.Â
âThatâs the last photo you have of me, isnât it?â Your voice came out deadpan, dread icing your insides as you watch their faces for confirmation. âThatâs why you donât have a newer one, hm?â Their expressions crumbled. Remus looked positively ashamed, avoiding your eyes. Disgust crept over Siriusâ features.
You tried hard not to let the panic swallow you. âCan youâŠwhat happens to me?â
Remus hesitated. âYou die during the war.â
You donât say anything for a moment, but hot tears flood your eyes. âWhen Iâm twenty-one? In 1980?â
Sirius nodded, and you dumped your face into your hands. âOh, Merlin. Oh no.â Your mutterings broke their hearts, and then they heard you begin to cry, your frame shaking with each sob. âI donât get any older?â
Sirius felt sick. Remus couldnât open his mouth as he watched you cry, but Sirius had been itching to comfort you since the second he saw you on the kitchen floor eighteen years ago. All heâd wanted was for you to wake up and cry, so he could reassure you, wrap his arms around you, and reassure you that you were going to be fine.Â
âOh, baby, Iâm so sorry,â Sirius cried. âWe werenât⊠We werenât there the day it happened. Iâm so fucking sorry.â
âWhat happened?â You whimpered. âWhat happened to me?â It dawns on you. âPete?âÂ
When neither said anything, you became more frantic. âNo! Did I die saving him? It must have beenâit must have been some freak accident, surely!â
Sirius shook his head, fists clenched. âIt was not an accident, Y/N,â
You rubbed your eyes. âButâbutâPeter isââ
âNot at all what any of us thought,â Remus finished for her sternly.Â
âOh Gods. Is it painless at least?âÂ
âIt doesnât matter,â Remus cut in before Sirius could. âBecause itâs not going to happen again.â
âWhaâwhat do you mean?â
Remus lifted the time turner. âWeâre not going back to a world youâre not in, Y/N. Not ever.â
Your breath hitched. âWhat?â
âI know this is overwhelming,â Sirius said. âIâm sorry. We justâwe want to be sure that you want to be saved, Y/N. That you want to live. We donât want to force you to do anything you donât want to do.â
You thought for a few seconds. âOf course I want to live,â you croaked. âI want to grow old with you both. But I donât want to change the future for the worse. What if bad things happen?â
âBad things happen anyway,â Sirius mumbled.
âSirius is blamed for your death,â Remus said, and purposefully left out the news of James and Lily. âHe goes to Azkaban for thirteen years, until he breaks out.â
You look over at him, agony nearly shredding you apart. âSirius,â you breathed, and your sniffling nose and flushed eyes were enough to make him coo and bring you into his warm chest. âMerlin, Sirius, I am so, so sorry.â
âItâs not your fault,â he murmured into your hair. âNever your fault, honey.â
You stayed like that for minutes. Your eyes began to feel tired from the emotion and weight of the day. Sirius couldnât take his eyes off of you, curled up in his arms, finally safe.
âLet us save you,â Remus pleaded with her quietly, brushing her hair from her face. âPlease.â
âBut what if it makes everything worse in the long run? I donât want you two to get into more trouble.â
âWeâd Obliviate you after this, sweetheart,â Remus said, and Sirius was nearly surprised that heâd come up with a plan so soon, but also not really because it was Remus. âYou wonât remember this, and youâll go on like normal. Sirius and I will jump to the day you pass. Weâll make sure Pete doesnât get to hurt you.â
âWhy canât we stop Peter now?âÂ
âWe canât change too much of the timeline, baby,â Sirius swallowed thickly. âNo matter how much we want to. Some things have to stay the same.â
There was a long silence. Minutes ticked by agonisingly slowly.
âWhat do you think?â Remus asked quietly.Â
âLet me sleep on it, Rem,â you said, furrowing your brows, but not opening your eyes as you rested against Siriusâ chest. âI canâtâI canât think straight right now. Too much.â
âOkay,â Remus whispered, though his fingers twitched and his lips pursed. âYeah, darling. Go to sleep. Weâll still be here in the morning.â
It took you a very long time to finally lose consciousness. You lay there, dwelling and agonising for hours, until the steady beat of Siriusâ heart lulled you to sleep.Â
ââ .âŠ
The next morning, you were the first to wake. You studied the men on either side of you, unsure if you were freaked out by their aged faces or calmed by them. A part of you was relieved that they got to see this age, and they survived a war you hadnât managed to. The other part of you couldnât stop thinking about the fact that there was no other version of you that got to wake up to this.Â
They both mostly looked the same. Both had a few silvers running through their hair, and the slightest of wrinkles around their eyes. It was obvious they were older in a handsome way, tattoos adorning every inch of Siriusâ skin in a way that had you almost breathless.Â
You traced them until he stirred slightly, and then you froze, a nervousness washing over you that you usually didnât get with the boys. You supposed that was because these werenât boys, but men. You didnât know this version of Sirius and Remus; these were around eighteen years older than you and had lived lives youâd never know about.Â
You hesitated for a few moments, your thoughts drifting to the version of Sirius and Remus who were downstairs in the medical wing. You suddenly yearned for them more than ever, even if their elder selves were with you. Very carefully, you chose the one who used to always sleep like a log and prayed that was still true. Climbing over Siriusâ sleeping figure was a sport you had become extremely skilled at, especially because he liked to lie flat on his stomach.Â
Pulling on Remusâ jumper, you hesitated, watching them both sleep peacefully in the bed. Remusâ nose twitched, just like it always did. His hand splayed out across the mattress, as if looking for you or Sirius. You decided to leave before they woke up.Â
You stalked down all of the staircases, not a soul in sight, until you made it to the infirmary. You pushed the door open and headed straight for the two occupied beds at the end of the hall. Remus was already awake, a book in his hands and his eyes bleary from, knowing him, lack of sleep.Â
âHi,â you breathed, and dropped into the chair next to him.Â
He looked pleased to see you, his face melting into a smile. âY/N. Itâs so early. Why are you here?â
âI just needed to come and see you both,â you whispered, but your voice cracked at his gentle face, and your eyes welled with hot tears, much to your horror.Â
Remus quickly placed the book down, concerned, and he pulled his blankets off his legs.Â
âNo, no, no,â you attempted to usher him back in. âRest, Rem. Stop. Donât worry about me, I just⊠I had a nightmare last night. Iâm being silly.â
He looked dramatically less concerned, his face easing into a look of sympathy as he made a soft sound in the back of his throat. âOh, sweetheart. You had a nightmare, did you? What was it about?â
You hesitated and gulped down the lump in your throat. It felt like all of the air was stuck there, and something was squeezing your chest unrelentingly.Â
âI died,â you blurted. âA couple of years into the war. I got murdered. You and Siriusâyou both were really sad afterwards.â
Remusâ brows tugged together, and he opened his arms out to you. You climbed into them, careful of all of his wounds, resting your head on his chest. You felt better nearly instantly, but dread sank in your stomach like an anchorâa constant, aching reminder that you would only have this for the next couple of years. You looked over at a sleeping Sirius. In a couple of years, he would be in Azkaban. Remus would be alone, a shell of the person he was before.Â
âThat wonât happen,â Remus whispered, stroking your hair. You almost believed him from the softness and sincerity in his tone. âYouâre safe with us, baby. Iâve got you.â
The tears streamed even more easily down your face.
âY/N?â Siriusâ groggy voice came from the bed over. âIs she okay, Rem?â
âPoor thingâs had a nightmare,â Remus said, and it wasnât long before you heard the duvet shuffle and the padding of feet over to you.Â
âDarling,â Sirius whined dotingly, and stole you from Remusâ arms, dotting kisses throughout your hair. âYouâre alright. Was it that bad?â
âI justâit felt really, really real,â you sniffled. âAnd IâmâIâmâ I was thinking what would happen to the two of you if something really did happen to me.â
Remusâ face contorted. âDonât ask questions like that, love.â
âYeah, it wonât ever happen,â Sirius said forcefully. âNever, Y/N.â
You grasped his jumper tighter.Â
âGods, your hands are shaking, sweetheart,â Sirius muttered.Â
âSorry,â you murmured, and dragged yourself away from him.Â
They both watched you with such soft, kind eyes. Your heart ached, pulsating and dying all at once. You itched to grab them again.Â
You wanted this forever. You wanted to know the two boys in the tower above you, tooâyou wanted to watch this Sirius and Remus grow into the men upstairs. Hopefully, happier, less traumatised versions.Â
Youâd felt a weird sense of nausea when youâd woken up earlier, looking at the familiar faces of your boyfriends and realising you didnât know them, and would never know them.Â
You needed to know them. Â
âIâm going to get ready for the day,â you breathed out. âIâll shower and put some clean clothes on, and then Iâm going to come down here with some games or something for us to play. Itâs Christmas Eve, you know.â
Remus frowned. âLet us come with you.â
âNo, no. Iâm going to get the house elves to make us something really nice, okay?â You said, and your encouraging smile lifted their spirits slightly. âYouâre right. Both of you. It was just a dream.â
You had your answer for the Sirius and Remus upstairs.
starry-eyed-moony áŻâ ËËË
The Button Nest
wolfstar x fem!whimsy!reader
summary: youâre a shy crow animagus, quietly watching the marauders from the shadows, admiring them from afar. you think youâre invisible, but sirius and remus have started noticing you in ways you never expected. then, after a sudden accident leaves you vulnerable, the quiet distance between you begins to unravel, one button at a time.
warnings: shy reder, animagus transformation, animal form, accidents and injury, vulnerability, slow-burn romance, subtle emotional tension, insecurity, blood, infirmary, angst, lonely reader, anxiety, social awkwardness, mention of ravenclaw!reader, teasing and gentle flirting, mild language, moments of self-doubt, themes of trust and acceptance, angst, happy ending.
w/c: 6.1k
a/n: as someone who was always seen as 'weird', this was so healing to write <3 masterlist
It wasnât unusual for you to be roaming the grounds late at night.
In fact, it had become something of a ritualâan instinct more than a plan, something stitched into your routine without you ever deciding it. The forest always felt more alive once the rest of the castle fell asleep, the air cooler, the trees older, the world quieter in a way that let your thoughts breathe.Â
Most nights, you slipped from your bed and disappeared beyond the edge of the grounds, feathered and weightless in the shape of a small crow, darting through branches and perching high in the canopy where no one thought to look.
What was unusual, however, was this: Remus Lupin limping through the forest, his arms slung around the shoulders of Sirius Black and James Potter like they were the only things keeping him from falling apart entirely.
Now thatâthat was something new.
You stilled in the trees, tucked between the leaves, dark eyes following the scene below.
It was strange, not because they were out after curfew. That much youâd come to expect from the troublesome Marauders. But because even here, in the middle of the forest, long past midnight, the three of them still carried with them that same impossible brightness.Â
You had never spoken to them before, not once, and yet somehow you knew their names the way everyone did. James Potter, Quidditch star with a laugh loud enough to rattle windows. Sirius Black, the most troublesome student, who drew people to him like a flame. And Remus Lupin, softer than the others but no less magnetic, with his weary kind of stillness that felt older than all of them combined.
Youâd seen them aroundâof course you had, everyone had, but youâd been watching them for longer than youâd care to admit. Not deliberately, or creepily, you hoped.Â
It was just that once you started noticing them, you couldnât seem to stop.Â
They moved through the castle like they belonged to it, like the halls bent slightly to let them pass. Even when they werenât trying to be the center of attention, the world seemed to place them there anyway, everything revolving around their presence like they were born to be the stars of some story no one else had been invited into.
And even now, deep in the forest where no one was meant to see them, that pull hadnât faded. The trees themselves seemed to lean toward Remus, branches curving like they knew he was hurting. The wind circled Sirius like it was part of him, rustling his hair just so. And Jamesâhe kept his head high even though his shoulder bore half of Remusâs weight, eyes sharp and steady in the dark like someone who refused to be afraid.
From your branch above, your small body shifted forward slightly, feathers ruffling against the bark.
Remus looked worse than you expected. Pale and exhausted. His mouth was tight with pain, and he leaned heavily on both of them, clearly fighting to stay upright. It wasnât hard to guess what had happened. You didnât need someone to spell it out for you.
You already knew.
Youâd known for some time now, if you were honest with yourself. It wasnât a secret, not if you paid attention.
The monthly disappearances, the gray pallor that settled into his skin for days afterward, the limp he sometimes carried with him, the faraway look he wore when he thought no one was watching.Â
It was clear, if you knew how to see it. Remus Lupin was a werewolf.
You werenât afraid of him.
You werenât sure what you felt, actually. Not pity, not fear. Just this soft ache in your chest, a fluttering concern that made your wings twitch and your claws dig slightly into the bark beneath you.Â
You wanted, more than anything, to help. Not in a way that would ever be noticed, not in some dramatic act of kindness or courage. Just⊠to be useful. To ease the weight of whatever he carried, even if only for a moment.
But you didnât move. You stayed quiet in the branches as they passed beneath you, Sirius murmuring something to Remus that made the corner of his mouth twitch upward, just barely.
James glanced up once, scanning the canopy, but didnât pause. None of them noticed the crow perched above them, holding her breath.
You watched them disappear between the trees, the sound of their footsteps fading into the dark, and felt that familiar twist settle in your chest again.
You were never part of their world. That much had always been clear. You moved through corridors like a ghost with pockets full of silence, a soft-footed observer in a universe that burned far too brightly for someone made of distance.
Where they shone with the ease of constellations, you lingered at the edges like mist, half-invisible and entirely forgettable.
It was not envy that caught your breath when you looked at them, it was something lonelier than that.Â
You told yourself it was mere curiosity, a passing glance toward something golden.
But the truth pressed heavier than that simple excuse. You had spent so long folding yourself into the corners of rooms, shrinking beneath your own voice, that to witness something so effortlessly vibrant felt almost otherworldly.
It was not that they demanded your attention. You would have resented them if they had. It was that your attention, unbidden and unwilling, bent toward them in spite of you.
As though their presence altered the air itself. As though their laughter rewrote gravity.
You tried to retreat, to withdraw as you always had, but the further you pulled, the harder you were drawn in.
It was the slow inevitability of celestial force, like a lonely moon being dragged across the dark by a sun too blinding to ignore.
You told yourself you were content in the quiet, and maybe you were. But every so often, when the night made the world gentler, and their noise softened into something almost tender, you allowed the wondering.
You let yourself ache for the impossible. To imagine, just briefly, what it might feel like to stand in the warmth.
And then, as always, you turned back into the branches, into the dark, into the small and silent shape of someone who was never meant to be seen.
You stay in the tree long after they pass, eyes tracking the shape of them as they disappear into the thicket, the way Jamesâs silhouette leads, the way Sirius shifts slightly to support more of Remusâs weight without ever making it seem like a burden.Â
They speak in low voices, too distant for words to reach, but the rhythm of their steps is steady, if uneven, and for a moment you allow yourself to believe theyâll be alright.
Still, you follow.
You shift in the branches, feathers settling against your sides as your body lightens, stretches, and then lifts, black wings cutting through the night with soundless ease.
You dart above the treetops, careful to stay far enough that they wonât hear the flutter of your passage, but close enough that you can still see them through the breaks in the canopy.
You watch as Sirius ducks beneath a low-hanging branchâtoo low, it turns out. The edge catches his shoulder, just barely, and he swears under his breath.
James chuckles while Remus winces and lets out a soft noise you canât quite hear. They all pause for a beat, just long enough for Sirius to adjust his grip around Remusâs back.
And thatâs when you see it.
The glint of something small and dark tumbling from Siriusâs cloak as he shifts. It falls soundlessly into the underbrush, half-hidden by shadow and leaf, but you catch the flicker of it all the same.
A button. Round, worn, and gleaming faintly in the moonlight as it lands near the base of an old root.
They donât notice.
They keep walking, unaware, their laughter returning faintly on the wind as they near the edge of the woods.
You watch them for a few more momentsâwatch as James pushes the castle door open with his shoulder, as Sirius leans close to say something low into Remusâs ear that makes him sigh softly despite himself.
Their backs retreat into the stone, swallowed by the warmth of the light spilling from within.
Only once the door swings shut behind them do you move.
You dive, wings spread in a wide curve, and land beside the tree root. The button sits half-buried in moss, still holding the faint warmth of Siriusâs coat.
You press your beak against it, tilting your head. Itâs not much, just a lost scrap. An unremarkable little thing that no one will miss.
You nudge it into your beak carefully, curling your claws against the bark to steady yourself. The metal is cool, and a little heavier than it looks. A strange weight for something so small.
You glance up once more toward the castle, just to be sure. And thatâs when you see him.
Sirius.
Heâs paused in the doorway, slightly turned, head tilted back toward the woods. His eyes scan the tree line..
For a second, your eyes lockâhis wide, gray, still crackling with whatever storm he always carries behind them, and yours small and dark and unblinking.
Then he gives a tiny tilt of his head, just barely perceptible, like a question.Â
Then he turns and disappears into the castle all the same.
And you lift your wings again, button tucked in your beak like a treasure, and fly after himâback toward the tower.
The days that followed blurred into one another with a kind of quiet that felt dreamlike. Nothing monumental had happened, but something within you had shifted.
You told yourself it meant nothing. Just curiosity, perhaps. A trick of loneliness. A moment that would fade if you left it untouched. After all, you didnât really know them.
And yet, your gaze sought them in every room. You lingered in places you normally passed through.
You didnât know how to name the feeling that followed you. It was not love, not yearning, not anything so clear. Just a soft ache that fluttered behind your sternum whenever they looked your way.
So you tried to smother it gently, the way you always had, with quiet rituals and familiar comforts.
That afternoon, the castle pulsed with early spring. Laughter echoed through open halls, and golden light spilled across the stone like a secret.
You had left the library later than usual, the small wooden box clutched protectively to your chest, your bag slipping slightly off your shoulder as you hurried to make it down the hallway before the rush swallowed you.Â
You werenât paying close attention to where you were going. Your fingers curled tightly around the lid of the box, and your thoughts, once again, had drifted far ahead of your body
You didnât see them until you collided.
Your shoulder struck something solidâsomeoneâs chestâand your breath caught in your throat as the impact jarred the box from your hands.
The lid sprang open, and in an instant, a hundred small fragments of your quiet world tumbled across the cold stone floor.
Buttons scattered in all directions, clinking and skipping like startled birds, tiny kaleidoscopes of color and shape spinning out across the corridor.
You dropped to your knees with a sharp breath, heart racing, hands frantically collecting what you could before they rolled too far.
You reached for them with trembling fingers, too humiliated to look up, your mind already preparing for the laughter, for the awkward glances, for the words youâd have to stumble through.
But the first voice you heard was warm, low, touched with a gentle humor.
âAre you okay, love?,â came the voice, unmistakably Remus Lupinâs.
Your breath froze.
You looked up slowly, dread tightening behind your ribsâand there he was.
Remus stood just above you, tall even when slightly tilted from the weight of his cane, his soft knit sweater stretched slightly across his frame, the collar turned wrong in a way that made your fingers ache to fix it.Â
His gaze was steady, unreadable, but not unkindâwarm in that quiet, bone-deep way he always seemed to carry, as if the tiredness in him was ancient and affectionate and chose what it wanted to notice.
Beside him, Sirius Black was already crouched to the floor, hair falling in black waves around his cheekbones as he reached for one of the stray buttonsâa glossy red one with a cracked side. He held it between his fingers and tilted his head as he offered it out to you.
âI think this one belongs to you,â he said, and there was a smile in his voiceânot mocking, not teasing, just bright and real and somehow far too much for your chest to hold at once.
You reached for the button slowly, your fingertips brushing his for a second too long. âThank you,â you whispered.
Sirius turned the button once more between his fingers before letting it go.
âThis looks exactly like the one I lost the other night,â he said thoughtfully. âCoat got caught on a branch, and I remember it falling.â
You blinked, your mind scrambling to build some sort of casual response. âOh. Thatâs⊠funny. What are the odds?â
Sirius narrowed his eyes with mock suspicion, but only smiled. âYeah. What are the odds.â
Remusâs voice broke in again, quiet but curious. âDo you usually carry a whole collection around with you?â
You glanced down at the box in your lap, half-full, many of the buttons still scattered across the stone.Â
âI collect them,â you said. âI find them, and rescue them, I guess.â
Sirius leaned closer, crouching again, interest flickering in his expression. âYou rescue them?â
âYeah, I just think buttons are really cute,â you said softly, cheeks warming. .
There was a pause, quiet and weightless, suspended like a held breath.
Then Remus smiled, slow and gentle. He leaned down slightly, balancing his cane with practiced ease, his gaze steady as it met yours.Â
âI think youâre really cute,â he said, voice low but certain, as though he were stating a simple fact rather than handing you the sun.
Your breath caught. The heat in your cheeks flared instantly.
Sirius, still crouched beside you, let out a bark of laughter. âMoony,â he said, grinning wide, âyouâre absolutely flustering her.â
He then picked up a button shaped like a starburst and turned it over in his hand.
âDo they have names?â he asked, half-smiling.
You hesitated again, but they were both still looking at you like they genuinely wanted to know. And soâshylyâyou nodded.
âThat one,â you said, pointing to the pink with the curved edges, âis Dai. The red one is Cheri, the little navy blue one is Ruxy, and the green swirl one is Teo.â
Sirius grinned. âRuxy looks like a cutie.â
âShe is!â you said automatically, and then blushed again.
Remus gave a small laughâbarely audible, but sincere.
And then Siriusâs gaze flicked back to you, brighter now, edged with something that felt almost like a secret.
âWell then,â he said, voice low and amused. âCan I have a button named after you, Miss Ravenclaw?â
The words hit you all at once. You stared at him, mouth parting slightly.
âIâum. You can have the whole box,â you said too quickly. âIf you want, I donât mind.â
Sirius laughed, rich and surprised, eyes narrowing just slightly as he leaned in a little.
âAll of them?â
âTheyâd be safe with you,â you answered, almost without thinking. âWith you and Remus.â
Remus looked at you again, gently. âBut I thought you said they were precious.â
âThey are,â you murmured, your fingers curling tighter around the box. âBut I think they would be safe with you.â
Sirius leaned back, something like admiration flickering behind his lashes.
You didnât quite know what to do with the way they were both looking at you.
And just when the silence stretched a little too long, a voice called from the far end of the corridorââOi! Sirius! Remus!â
All three of you looked up.
James Potter stood down the hall, grinning, fingers laced with Regulus Blackâs in a way that felt less surprising than it should have been. Regulus looked vaguely annoyed, but didnât pull away.
Remus stood first, then Sirius, both of them brushing imaginary dust from their sleeves.
Before turning to leave, Remus looked down at you once more, his expression softer than it had been all afternoon.
âButtons like these,â he said gently, his voice as low and warm as a lullaby, âare safest with someone like you.â
He smiled once more, and then he was goneâwalking beside Sirius, their shoulders brushing as they headed toward James and Regulus, leaving you behind with your heartbeat in your throat and your button box held close to your chest like it had just turned into something more than what it had been that morning.
In the days that followed, you found yourself seen in ways you had not expected. It was never loud or showy. Just the kind of noticing that lingered in the spaces between things.Â
Sirius would greet you with a grin that curved wide, his laughter always arriving half a beat early, as though he had been waiting for yours.Â
Remus had a different quiet, a warmth that never needed words. He would glance at you across the Great Hall, the corners of his mouth tilting up slightly, as though something about your presence softened the sharpest parts of his day.Â
Their light caught you even when you were not trying to catch it.
And somehow, you found yourself orbiting them without realizing when it had started. You did not speak of it. You simply moved in tune with it, steps quieter, glances longer, as though gravity had chosen for you.
But on full moon nights, the gravity changed.
You could never remain in the Ravenclaw dormitories, not when the thought of them beyond the walls left your chest tight and your sleep restless. So you became what magic had allowed.Â
You shifted. Feathered and silent, you slipped into the dark as a crow, wings slicing through the wind with singular purpose.
You did not follow too closely. You never let yourself be seen, but you watched. You hovered high in the trees, a shadow among branches, waiting for their safe return.
It was not out of duty. It was something far deeper, far stranger. It was worry, but it was also something you refused to name.
Especially when it came to Remus.
There was something about the way he moved beneath the moonlight that left you breathless. Something quiet and aching, something wild and controlled all at once.
It drew you in the way a fire does to someone who has always lived in the cold. You had not meant to fall into such devotion, but you did.
What you had not meant to do was get caught.
You had not seen the branch until it was too late. It had splintered beneath your landing, sharp as a blade, and pierced clean through the delicate bones of your crowâs foot.
You had cried out, a sound that belonged to neither bird nor girl, and now you are trapped. Your leg is twisted, impaled through the narrow branch, wings fluttering uselessly, body trembling from pain and fear.
The forest is deep and dark around you. The sky is heavy with clouds. The world below is quiet in the way that makes sound feel impossible.
You try to pull free, but it only burns. You try to breathe, but each breath comes thin and shaky.
You had come to protect. You had come to be sure they were safe.
And now, you are the one in danger, and no one knows you are here.
Remus was lying curled in the grass, his body trembling with the aftershocks of transformation. His skin was slick with sweat, chest rising and falling in slow, shallow breaths.Â
James crouched beside him, murmuring something too low to hear, while Sirius stood just behind, watchful and steady, arms folded tightly across his chest.
They were preparing to carry him backâlike always. The routine had become muscle memory by now: someone took his shoulders, someone his legs, and they would move through the underbrush in silence, just three boys and the weight of what they refused to name.
You watched from above.
You always watched.
Perched in the tree line, your feathers damp and trembling, your heartbeat a staccato against the splintered wood that held you. The pain was sharp nowâconstant.
The branch had pierced clean through your crowâs leg, the wound throbbed with each flutter, and your small body had begun to lean sideways from exhaustion.Â
You really were trying not to fall.
You tried to call out again, but the sound was strange and half-formed, stuck somewhere between your beak and your pain. You blinked, dizzy and panicked, watching Remus blink slowly up at the trees, unaware that you were breaking just above him.
Sirius glanced up. It was casual at first, a flicker of curiosity. His brows furrowed slightly, his gaze lingering.
"There's a crow watching us," he muttered.
James looked up too. âBit early for birdwatching, innit?â
âLooks hurt,â Sirius added, voice quieter now, cautious. âWingâs twitching.â
âProbably just spooked by us.â
But Sirius didnât look away.
You wobbled again, wings fluttering helplessly, and this time the pain stole your breath entirely. Something gaveâa soft sound, barely audibleâbut Sirius stepped forward like he heard it anyway.
âThatâs not normal,â he said, a strange edge to his voice. âThatâJames, that bird's not flying off.â
James straightened, still holding Remusâs arm draped over his shoulder. âWhat do you mean?â
âI mean itâs not scared of us. Itâs watching us. Bleeding, even.â
You blinked again, vision swimming. The pain was starting to blur the edges of things.
And Sirius had always been sharper than he let on. He stepped forward, squinting up into the tree line, eyes narrowing. âItâs too still, like itâs waiting.â
Something about the way he said it made your stomach turn.
They didnât know you had followed themâevery full moon, without fail. That you had shifted the second they were gone, just to make sure they were okay. That you stayed out of sight. That it wasnât a coincidence, the way a crow always seemed to circle above them at the end.
They didnât know because youâd never told them.
Because what would they say?
The shy Ravenclaw girl who barely spoke at meals. Who had feathers hidden beneath her skin and a fondness for strange winds.Â
You hadn't meant to be seen.
You hadn't meant to fall.
And now, all it took was one branch and one mistake to unravel it all.
Sirius took a step closer.
âSomethingâs not right,â he said, voice low now. âIâm going up.â
âPadsââ James started, but Sirius was already reaching for a low limb, already climbing, already listening to something he couldnât name but couldnât ignore.
Sirius climbed carefully, boots pressing against bark slick with moss, one hand braced on a branch as he narrowed in on the trembling bird.
The crow didnât flinch. It only watched him with dark, glassy eyes, chest rising unevenly with every breath. Its feathers were ruffled, one wing visibly twitching from strain, its claws caught by a jagged splinter of wood. The wound had darkened the bark below it with a smear of blood.
And beside it, nestled in the fork of two branches, was a small, uneven nest.
A nest filled with buttons.
Sirius froze.
Red. Pink. Navy. Green.
His breath hitched.
Cheri. Dai. Ruxy. Teo.
It struck him like a gust of cold wind, the memory rising all at onceâhow you had shown him those buttons in the quiet corner of the hallway when you bumped into him and Remus, your voice barely above a whisper, explaining that you named the small things you kept close.Â
He looked back at the crow, still trembling, and his chest clenched with certainty.
âY/N,â he said, voice low but sure, âitâs you.â
And in the seconds that followed, you shifted.
Feathers melted into skin. Wings collapsed inward and became arms, trembling and bruised. Your body curled in on itself, still perched awkwardly in the tree, leg bloodied and twisted at an angle that made Siriusâs stomach flip.Â
You clutched the branch with shaking fingers, hair matted and face flushed with effort and something deeperâshame, thick and suffocating.
You didnât cry from the pain. Not even when your injured leg gave a sharp spasm, tearing through the nerves like fire, or when your fingers trembled uselessly against bark still sticky with your own blood.
You cried because you had been seen.
It had always been the one thing you wished for. The softest, most secret ache of your childhood.
To be seen. Not glanced at, not acknowledged in the polite way professors nod at a raised hand or classmates murmur a distracted helloâbut truly seen.
To be noticed with intention. To be understood in your full, strange shape. You had begged for it in silence, prayed to stars without names, asked the moon to make you visible.
And now the universe, in its crooked wisdom, had answered. You had been seenâbloodied, exposed, and caught in your smallest truth.
You had sat through years of being overlooked, of having your voice mistaken for wind or your presence mistaken for absence. You had learned to expect it, but never stopped wanting otherwise.
You had begged, in ways that did not involve words, to be noticed
And now, here you were.
Revealed in trembling flesh and blood. Not behind a desk, not through the soft offering of a smile or a story or a named buttonâbut like this.
Injured, fragile, unraveled, and caught.
They had seen you, truly seen you. Not the version you curated in classrooms or in hallways with quiet nods and subtle glances. They had seen the strange bird who followed them into the night.
The girl who built nests out of threadbare things. The one who had watched them like they were made of light and belonged to a constellation she would never be brave enough to touch.
And it was cruel, wasnât it? How the universe had finally answered your oldest prayer, but in the wrong language.
How being seen could still feel like being misunderstood.
You hadnât wanted them to think you were weak. You hadnât wanted their pity or confusion. You hadnât wanted their worry to be born from the sight of your blood or the way your hands shook. You hadnât wanted to be caught.
You had wanted them to understand.
You had wanted them to see the quiet devotion threaded through every watchful flight. The care behind every shadowed perch. The love it took to stay hidden when every part of you wanted to land at their side.
But now that they hadânow that they had seen the part of you you kept hidden beneath feathers and windâyou wanted to disappear all over again.
Isnât that the tragedy of it? That the very thing you once begged for could arrive in a form you didnât recognize. That after all the aching, all the hoping, all the prayers you sent to unseen gods, being seen could still feel so much like being misunderstood.
And yet, even in that moment, even with shame biting at the edge of your vision and tears sliding down your cheeks, part of you still clung to the hope that perhapsâjust perhapsâthey hadnât misunderstood you after all.
âHeyâhey. Look at me,â A voice low but urgent breaks through your haze.
Hands find your face, thumbs brushing beneath your eyes with a softness that makes something in your chest splinter further.Â
âDonât cry, love. Please donât cry. Youâre alright. Youâre safe. Iâve got you, just breathe with me, yeah? Just stay with me.â
You try to look away, but he wonât let you. His gaze holds yours, steady and unwavering, the kind of look that feels like being tetheredâpulled back to something real, something warm.
You barely notice Remus limping toward you until he drops beside the branch, breath catching in his throat.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asks, and his voice breaks around the edges. âIs it your leg? Are you hurt? Y/Nâwhat happened?â
You canât answer, not right away. Your mouth opens, then closes again, but Sirius is still there, crouched in front of you, hands steady despite the thudding panic you can feel rising in both your chests.
He speaks again, softer now. âYouâyouâve been watching us? All this time?â His voice trembles with something between awe and heartbreak. âAlone? During every full moon?â
You nod once, a small, broken motion, tears slipping down your cheeks in silence. Your jaw is clenched so tightly it aches.
âI didnât want you to know,â you whisper. âI thoughtâif you saw me, itâd be weird or pathetic, orââ
He cut you off gently, reaching out to cup your cheek with a care that made your throat tighten.
âPathetic?â he echoed, incredulous. âPathetic? Y/N, youâve been dragging your body into the sky just to keep us safe. You bled for us tonight. Youâve been doing this alone. Thatâs not patheticâthatâs... thatâs fucking brave.â
His voice broke on the last word.
Below, James appeared at the base of the tree, voice rising in concern.
âSirius?â James shouted. âIs it hurt? Is itâwait, where are you?â
âItâs Y/N!â Sirius called back down. âItâs her. Sheâs an Animagus.â
âWhat?â Jamesâs voice cracked. âWhat do you mean itâs her?â
But Sirius wasnât listening anymore. He was already helping you into his arms, cradling your body close with infinite care, his hand pressed protectively to your injured leg, holding you like something precious and breakable.Â
He whispered reassurances as he climbed down, slow, careful steps that betrayed the panic beneath his steady hands.
By the time Siriusâs boots hit the earth again, Remus was already beside him.
His breath came ragged, the lingering tremors of the transformation still curled in his limbs
Now, standing just steps from you, Remus looked like the ground had given out beneath him. All the color had drained from his face, but it wasnât just shock.Â
You tried to speak, but the moment Sirius set you down gently in the grass, Remus was already kneeling, like his body had moved before his mind could catch up.
âY/N?â His voice cracked, hoarse and thin. âWhatâwhat happened? What were you doing out there?â
You couldnât meet his eyes. Not with the weight of both their gazes pressing into your skin. âI didnât want to be a burden.â
âA burden?â he repeated, the word leaving his mouth like it tasted wrong. âYouâve been following us? While Iâve been transforming? Every full moon?â His breath hitched. âWhile I wasââ
âI didnât want anyone to worry,â you whispered. âI just needed to know you were okay.â
Remus inhaled sharply and let it go like a wound reopening. His hand hovered near yours, trembling. Then he reached for you anyway, brushing your hair back from your damp, dirt-streaked cheek.
His fingers paused near the scratch below your ear, reverent, aching.
âYou shouldnât have had to do that alone,â he said, softly but with conviction, like he was swearing an oath he never shouldâve forgotten. âYou shouldnât have had to hide this. You didnât have to hide this.â
âI didnât think youâd understand,â you murmured, tears threatening again.
âWe understand now,â he said, brokenly. âAnd it shouldnât have taken blood for us to see it.â
Siriusâs jaw was clenched so tight it trembled. Remusâs voice was frayed, but firm. And both of them looked at you like you had done something immeasurably brave. Like you were worth mourning, protecting, holdingâeverything.
You finally looked up at them, eyes glassy, face streaked with tears and dirt and disbelief.
Sirius exhaled sharply, pressing a kiss to your temple. Remus closed his eyes, his hand settling gently over yours.
James crouched nearby, still stunned, but his voice was gentle when he finally spoke. âNext time, you donât watch us from the trees. Next time, youâre down here with us.â
The walk back to the castle was slower than usual. Not because the path had changed, or because the forest was any darker than it had beenâbut because something between the three of you had shifted.
Sirius carried you most of the way, arms secure beneath your back and knees, murmuring quietly each time you winced, while Remus walked close beside him, watching your face as though afraid it might disappear.Â
James had gone ahead to clear the way and fetch Madam Pomfrey, but you hardly noticed his absence.
Your body ached, but it was the tightness in your chest that throbbed hardest. You had never meant for them to know, not the Animagus form, not the secret flights, and certainly not the nest tucked into the trees like a childhood youâd never outgrown.
By the time Sirius set you down gently on the edge of the infirmary bed, your throat was dry from trying not to cry again.
Remus didnât speak at first. He just knelt beside you, hands gentle as he peeled away what was left of your sock and began tending to your leg. His fingers were deft but soft, brushing the dried blood away with a damp cloth, jaw clenched as he examined the wound with quiet intensity.
You hated the silence. You hated how heavy it felt.
âIâm sorry,â you said, the words breaking free before you could stop them. âI know itâs weird. I know Iâm weird. I didnât mean for you to find out like this.â
Sirius, who had been standing nearby, leaned forward suddenly, resting one hand on the mattress beside your hip.
âStop,â he said, firm but not unkind. âDonât do that. Donât apologize for being the one person who cared enough to follow us into the dark.â
Your breath caught.
âI just⊠I didnât want to be a burden,â you murmured, your voice barely more than a breath. âI didnât think youâd understand.â
Remusâs hands paused in their careful rhythm as he finished unwinding the gauze. He looked up slowly, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet but certain.
âY/N, if you truly believe weâd ever mock you for caringâfor watching over us in the only way you couldâthen Iâve clearly failed to show you the kind of man I am, and the kind of man I hope to be.â
Your fingers curled in your lap. âI watched you,â you whispered, eyes flicking toward Remus. âEvery month. I couldnât sleep knowing you were out there. I just... needed to make sure you came back.â
Remus didnât look away. He soaked the cloth in warm water and pressed it gently to your scraped skin with hands that trembled slightlyânot from fear, but from how much he was holding back. âYou never needed to explain that,â he said. âBut Iâm glad you did.â
Sirius moved closer, silent until now. He sat down beside you on the bed, his palm finding the small of your back, grounding you.
âYou watched over us,â he said, his voice low and rough at the edges. âEven when we didnât ask. Even when we didnât know. You broke your body trying to keep us safe. And youâre still sitting here thinking we might call you strange for that?â
You looked up at him then, wide-eyed, voice shaky. âI mean... I collect buttons. I sleep with open windows so I can hear the wind. I speak to animals. IâIâm not exactlyââ
âNormal?â Sirius offered, a half-smile playing at his lips. âGood. Weâre not either.â
Remus finished wrapping your leg and looked up, expression softening like a wave pulling back from shore. âYou think weâve spent all these weeks noticing you for no reason? You think we didnât see the way you listen more than you speak, or how your eyes always catch the smallest thingsâthe things no one else notices?â
âYou care in ways no one else ever has,â Remus added, more gently now. âYou cared about me in a way I didnât know how to accept until right now.â
Your breath caught. âWait⊠are you saying...?â
Sirius laughed under his breath and leaned a little closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. âLove, weâre saying weâve been completely enchanted by you for ages. We just didnât know how to say it until tonight.â
You blinked, stunned. âReally?â
âReally,â Remus said, his voice warm. âIn every way that matters.â
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came. Your throat was too full of something tender, too new.Â
Remus leaned closer, his voice softening. âListen to me,â he said. âYou donât have to hide yourself from us. Not your wings, not your magic, and certainly not your quiet. We like youâwe care about youâfor everything you are. Youâre not strange, love.â
Your lip trembled.
âAnd the button nest?â he added, grinning now. âItâs the most heartbreakingly you thing Iâve ever seen. That nest in the tree⊠it wasnât weird. It was beautiful.â
Sirius smiled, something quiet and bright in his expression. âWell, we were talking about it on the way backâRemus and I, and if thereâs ever room for two more in that nest, weâd be honored to be named and to be part of something you created.â
You blinked. âYou want to be⊠buttons?â
âNot just buttons,â Sirius said, bumping his shoulder gently against yours. âYour buttons.â
Remus looked up then, meeting your eyes with something deep and sure and aching in its sincerity. âIf weâre lucky, maybe youâll even give us names.â
You looked down at your lap, hands trembling in your lap, and then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, tentative but real.
âYou can be in my button nest,â you said, voice barely a whisper.
And for the first time, it wasnât just that someone had seen you.
It was that they had recognized you â all the strange, quiet, fragile pieces youâd kept tucked behind your ribs, the ones you had never dared to name aloud.
They hadnât flinched from your softness, or your silence, or the wild devotion stitched into the things you loved. They had understood it. And more than that, they had chosen it.Â
Chosen you.
You had spent your life making altars out of small things. Buttons, feathers, the hush between words. You had prayed in your own language â not in churches or temples, but in the way you noticed everything others overlooked. You had asked the world for so little: just to be held in return.Â
Just to matter to someone the way you had quietly, unfailingly let others matter to you.
And for so long, the world hadnât answered.
But maybe it was not that it hadnât heard you. Maybe it had simply taken time.
Because now, without asking, without performing, without even meaning to â you were seen. Not in passing, not in pieces, but fully, tenderly, and without having to translate your love to the world.
You were no longer a distant thing.Â
And perhaps, after all, the universe had been listening the entire time.
Now, it had spoken , softly and reverently, in the form of two boys who looked at you as if you were something celestial stitched into the earth.Â
After all, the button nest had always been waiting for them too.
a/n:
to the readers with soft hearts and quiet hopes; may someone see your soul the way you see the world. to the readers who love gently, who notice everything, and who wait, patiently, to be noticed in return; may your button nest always be full â€ïžâđ©č
-dalia
hi maeeee. i come to you with a request đââïž
iâm just obsessed with the idea of poly!wolfstar having sex for the first time except remus and reader have been together for longer time so itâs a lot of remus telling sirius what she likes fbsibxkakx
Thank you for your request babe!
cw: smut mdni
a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If youâre new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her transphobic agendas
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ⥠714 words
âSweetheart,â Remusâ voice is gentle, oh so gentle, as Sirius fucks into you, âyouâve got to tell him what you want.âÂ
You look up at your boyfriend with wet eyes, fucked out and frustrated from chasing after the orgasm that keeps slipping away from you. You want Sirius to just know what you want, the way Remus does, even if you know itâs not fair to expect that of him. It feels mean to give Sirius directions. Like youâre saying heâs not good enough.Â
Remus doesnât have the same reservations. When you donât speak up, he turns to Sirius and tells him plainly, âShe likes it harder than that.âÂ
At the foot of the bed, Siriusâ eyebrows go up. âYeah?â He looks at you. And thereâs nothing unkind about his stare, but you still shy a bit under the weight of it. âSorry, gorgeous, I didnât want to hurt you. Tell me if this is better.âÂ
The next time he pulls out, Sirius slams back into you with so much force youâre sure his cock has gotten lodged somewhere in your stomach. You arch, a choked-off cry leaving your lips.Â
Sirius huffs a laugh. âSuppose thatâs my answer.âÂ
âThatâs it, yeah.â Remus brushes the hair from your face, his touch comforting as you reach around blindly for his cock, desperate to give something back. Youâd started out asking to go down on him, but Remus hadnât thought it was a good idea to have your mouth around him while you and Sirius were only learning your way around each other for the first time. So instead, youâre lying on his lap with your legs spread for Sirius. The way youâre feeling now, you think Remus made the right call.Â
âDonât be afraid to get a bit rough with her,â he says. âShe likes it.âÂ
Sirius grins at that. âOh, yeah?â His grip tightens on your hips, squeezing meanly. âIs that true, pretty girl? You into that?âÂ
You think maybe all language has been jostled out of your head. You can only whine as Remus catches your hand before you can tug down the elastic waistband of his boxers, his thumb stroking over your knuckles despite the bulge you can see right beside you.Â
Your body answers Siriusâ question for you, anyway. His fingers tighten even more, blunt nails biting into your skin as he hisses, âFuck, baby.âÂ
Remus chuckles and kisses your white knuckles.Â
âFuck, Remus, can youâahâcan you get her leg for me? I want toââÂ
Thankfully for you both, Remus knows what Sirius means before he has to fumble his way through getting it all out. Remus reaches sideways, grasping the underside of your knee and pulling it up by your chest. âYeah?âÂ
âYeah,â Sirius pants, and then heâs fucking you even deeper than before, harder too, the dull, satisfying pain intensifying until your vision blurs. You twist your fingers in the hem of Remusâ boxers and hold on for dear life. âThatâs perfect. Youâre so perfect, pretty girl, does he tell you that enough? Fuck, Rem, we shouldâwe should put a mirror on the ceiling so she can see how she looks like this.âÂ
âMaybe we should,â Remus hums. He smiles down at you, and the last bit of sense in your brain dissolves like sugar into tea. âYouâre doing so well, love. Youâre being so good for us.âÂ
When you look back on it later, you wonât be entirely sure which of you heâs talking to, but that doesnât stop you from going warm all over in the moment. Siriusâ fucking gets more frenzied as you get worked up, until youâre trying to get Remus out of his boxers again, feeling frantic with the certainty that the climax youâd just been chasing is now chasing you.Â
âI canâI want toââ You try, distressed when he again catches your wrist in a firm grip. ââwant to help youââÂ
âShh, I know, sweetheart.â Remus strokes the inside of your knee. âLetâs get a couple out of you first, and then once you get used to Sirius, we can try. Yeah?â He looks at Sirius. âThink you can manage?âÂ
Sirius scoffs. He hikes your other leg up higher. âDonât patronize me. I had a bit of a learning curve, but Iâve got her now.â
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mind blowing kisser by @yasministration
the girlification of steve harrington by @/yasministration
nothingâs gonna hurt you baby by @colouredbyd
chocolate and kisses on the cheek by @/colouredbyd
making up by @/colouredbyd
honey, darling, baby by @starry-eyed-moony
poly!marauders x fem!reader who is not pranking them right now by @ellecdc
playing with steveâs hair by @loveshotzz
walk him like a dog by @cipheress-to-k-pop
a christmas special by @moonstruckme
poly!Steddie x fem!reader by @/moonstruckme
we can play house, we can bed down by @thebestandworstdayofjune
dizzy on the comedown by @spider-stark
bestfriend!James Potter x fem!reader who drunkenly confesses her feelings by @prettydaisygirl
building blocks by me (self promotion is self love!)
please let me knows if you want to be untagged or removed from this list
but thatâs not all! please let me know if you recognize the fics under the cut, i would LOVE to show support to the real writers of them
i found them all so far!! but if you notice that sheâs posted again, please feel free to let me know!!
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who remus will be forced to marry... eventually âż 1.6k words
summary: remus' father dies, leaving him to become Lord Lupin. his mother insists he marry, but there's a problem: remus lupin already has a lover.
cw: no reader in this part, bridgerton-inspired au, established!wolfstar, period-typical homophobia mentioned, sirius being dramatic
°Ëâ§âżâ§Ë°
one two three four five six seven
The golden-amber liquid swirls gently inside the cup as Remus shifts his wrist absent-mindedly. When he brings it up to his lips, it burns as it touches his skin and he can feel it trail all the way down his esophagus and into his stomach. He takes another sip, hissing as the burning intensifies. His eyes are distant, two fingers rubbing at his jaw. His gaze finally finds the street below, puddles reflecting moonlight, interrupted by fat raindrops.Â
Itâs rained every day since his father died.Â
Itâs not long before he can hear the signature jingle of keys at the door to the apartment, an all-too-familiar grunt as the door is pushed open. Remus leans his head back against the wooden frame of the chair, and he hears the moment Sirius sees his things. Everything goes silent for a second, and then thereâs quick footsteps dashing until heâs standing in front of Remus.Â
âWell?â Siriusâ eyes are already red-rimmed and full of fury, his fingers clenching into fists at his side. Remus knows his lover is quick to anger, and he himself would be no exception to this, especially when Sirius likely feels he was practically abandoned. âWhere the hell have you been, then?â
Remus sits up, taking another drink of his whiskey. Heâs trying to form the words, trying to string them together and force them from his throat and out his mouth but he canât get it quite right. He hisses against his teeth. âSiriusâŠâ
âIf you were going to throw me aside like some whore, you should at least have the decency to admit it before you run off!â Sirius crosses his arms in front of him, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head. Remus canât help but think Sirius is at his most beautiful like this, though heâll never admit that.Â
The glass makes a small thunk as Remus sets it aside, letting out a huff of breath as he stands. Sirius stares directly into his eyes, waiting for an answer, for anything. His anger, red-hot and inflamed, is only covering up for his worry, his insecurities. They grow every moment Remus doesnât speak, every moment he keeps looking at Sirius with that look on his face.Â
Remus steps in front of him, lowering his face until their foreheads press together. Remus closes his eyes, but Sirius doesnât, watching the way Remusâ face seems to crumble for a moment, his hands finding Siriusâ arms.Â
âMy father⊠is dead.â The words feel impossible to speak, if not only for the other ones he knows they will lead to. Sirius tries to pull away but Remusâ grip on his arms tightens, keeping him in place. âIt was quite a shock.â
âRemus, I-â Sirius swallows thickly, his own hands finding Remusâ back, pressing him closer. He feels guilty for assuming Remus had tossed him aside, that the absence had been personal. Heâs always been a selfish git, but now heâs truly feeling it. âIâm so sorry.â
Remus shakes his head, or at least as much as he can with his forehead pressed to Siriusâ. The tips of their noses brush and something in his heart breaks. âNo, I shouldâve written to you. I wanted to write to you, only⊠I didnât have an opportunity.â
Siriusâ lashes brush against Remusâ when he blinks, slow and fluttering. âWhy not?â He asks softly, though he knows Remus will continue speaking anyway.Â
âMy mother. God bless her, sheâs mourning him more than I am.â Remus swallows again and then clears his throat, pulling Sirius closer. âShe was constantly hovering, she did not let me have even a moment of peace. I could hardly bathe without her knocking and asking if I am alright.â
Something about that makes Sirius smile, the corners of his lips tilting up, but it vanishes when Remus looks up to meet his gaze again, and that look is still there. The one that tugs low in his gut, and not in the good way that normally happens when he sees Remus. âWhat is it?â
âThere is something I must tell you.â
Remusâ words hang in the air, thick and heavy like a cold mist. It raises goosebumps on Siriusâ skin in the same way, and his heart sinks lower than he thought possible. Maybe to Hell. Maybe lower. This time he doesnât prompt Remus, he just stares, awaiting the death blow.Â
âI⊠I am Lord Lupin now.â Remusâ voice sways on his new title, the idea of it straining his throat and he doesnât know how long it will take before saying that sounds normal to him. He runs a hand through his sandy lock before speaking again. âAnd⊠because of that, it has become a new focus of my mother that I find a wife.â
Sirius feels like time stops. His brain refuses to process the words Remus is saying, the syllables just running on loop over and over like a scratched record. He doesnât take in another breath, he feels like his heart doesnât beat again for several seconds.Â
âA wife?â It feels like heâs floating outside himself, his voice echoed and disembodied. Remus looks like he feels the same. That, or like he might be sick. Itâs several seconds before Sirius speaks again, but it almost comes out as a laugh. âYou?â
Something in Remusâ jaw sets but Sirius doesnât back down, raising his brows just a bit.Â
âMy mother is insistent.â He says, but the look doesnât leave Siriusâ face, though his color has started to come back. If anything, Sirius doubles down, his head tilting the way it always does when heâs being particularly snarky. âI like ladies,â Remus insists, âJust because Iâm in love with you doesnât mean-â
âWhat are you trying to say?â Sirius cuts him off, his words punctuated by a smirk and the cock of his hip.Â
âI am trying to tell you that-â
âYouâre replacing me with some dull, horrid woman from the Ton?â Sirius scoffs, then gasps dramatically, âIf you marry my cousin, I will cut off your bollocks.â The look of disgust that takes over Remusâ face is enough to have Siriusâ teasing morph into a chuckle.Â
Remus takes a breath and straightens his shoulders. âI am not going to replace you.â He reaches out for Siriusâ hand, interlacing their fingers together and giving it just the slightest of squeezes. âI do not want to take a wife, it will simply be to make my mother happy.â
âAnd to produce an heir,â Siriusâ fingers trace slowly down the skin of Remusâ neck, feeling the twitches and movements of his muscles underneath his skin. âDo not forget, I was to be a Lord once too. I know the expectations.â
âPerhaps, in several years, once I am done with my studies-âÂ
âMoony, please,â Sirius scoffs again and his hands fall away from Remusâ neck, his arms crossing over his chest, âBe realistic. Do you think your mother is going to allow you to continue your studies here while your wife remains in Mayfair? She wants an heir.â Remus opens his mouth to speak but Sirius shakes his head and raises a hand, stopping him, âAs soon as you finish saying your vows, your mother is going to be speaking of grandchildren. Iâm surprised she hasnât already brought it up, truly.â
Remusâ silence is all the response Sirius needs. His shoulders drop, and his hands reach for his lover again, sliding over familiar ridges and settling softly against his back. âRemus, my love, my moon⊠What are you asking me?âÂ
âI⊠Iâm asking you what you want?âÂ
Sirius purses his lips. He runs a hand through his hair and brushes his nose against Remusâ jaw. He sighs. He tangles his fingers in Remusâ shirt.Â
âI want you.â Sirius whispers, tongue darting out of his mouth and wetting his lips. He pulls back to look up into the taller manâs eyes, âAlways. Like always.â
âAnd youâre⊠alright with that?âÂ
âWith being your mistress?âÂ
Remus canât help but guffaw at this, but he guesses Sirius has a point. âYes.â
âWell, is it truly that different from what we are doing now?â
The question makes Remus ponder. He has a secret apartment in the city, paid for through Sirius and purposely located far from any main streets. The two of them are sneaking around, have been sneaking around since the beginning of âthemâ. No one in good society would approve of the two of them galavanting around together. At least not together as they truly are.Â
âI guess not.â Is what Remus finally decides on. Something softens in his stomach and itâs like he can take a breath for the first time in the last several weeks.Â
âI just have one request.â Sirius says, face turning serious and his grip on Remusâ shirt tightening, silky fabric clutched between his knuckles.Â
âAnything.â Remus says it, and he means it, though he knows itâs not entirely true. There are things Sirius could ask of him that he could not deliver, but he would try his damned best.Â
âI want to approve of the woman you pick.âÂ
The words hang in the air for a moment, and Remus finds himself nodding, tugging Sirius closer and lowering his lips to his loverâs.Â
âDone.â
°Ëâ§âżâ§Ë°
© prettydaisygirl
the velvet room - poly!wolfstar ĘââË.â
Coaxed to a fancy blood-sucking vampire speakeasy by your best friend, you end up in between two guys who are instantly obsessed. With your blood, and with you. They make it very clear they want to see you again.
Vampires!poly!wolfstar x fem!reader, 2.8k words
"Okay, look, just... hear me out."
Lisa has that terrifying glint in her eye. The one that means you're about to be coaxed into something that sounds objectively insane.
"It's not a fetish thing," she starts, "it's, like, a service. Super upscale. Very discreet."
"The service is letting a vampire drink your blood," you say flatly. "Lisa, that's a fetish thing."
"It is not! Ugh, you're so vanilla. It's a transaction. They get dinner, we get..." She does a little full-body shiver of pure bliss. "You know that feeling when you're so stressed your shoulders are in your ears, and then you get, like, the world's best massage? Times a thousand. It's a full-system reset. And it feels... honestly, it feels amazing."
You take a long sip of your drink, rolling your shoulders. The idea makes your skin prickle, and not entirely in a bad way.
"It's safe," she presses, seeing your hesitation. "It's totally mainstream now. It's called The Velvet Room. Sounds fancy, right? My guy is lovely. Very sweet. Says he's been doing this since the Great Depression, can you imagine?"
âYouâre letting a Depression-era vampire drink your blood,â you reply, putting your glass down with a clink. âWhatâs next? Getting your hair done by a ghost from the Victorian era?"
Lisa rolls her eyes so hard you worry for her optic nerves. âHeâs not from the Depression, he⊠lived through it. Thereâs a difference. And heâs very modern. He has an iPad.â
âAn iPad? Wow, okay, a real techie. I should go to him for electronics advice, huh? I wonder what he uses it for..."
âHe uses it for solitaire!â she defends, then frowns. "But that's not the point! The point is heâs professional. And discreet. You wonât even see a fang if you donât want to.â
âProfessional,â you repeat slowly. âIn a place called The Velvet Room."
âItâs exclusive! They have complimentary towels that are insanely soft. Like, a cloud soft. I stole some last week. But I guess it's not really stealing if they're complimentary, right?"
âI donât want a soft towel, Lisa! I want to not be someoneâs Capri Sun!â
âYouâre not a Capri Sun! Youâre a⊠a fine vintage! A delicate, artisanalâŠâ She gestures vaguely at you. ââŠsoup.â
You stare at her. âYou just compared my lifeblood to a soup.â
"A good soup! Something you'd pay a proper forty dollars for!" She slumps back, defeated. "Look. You're wound up so tight, your eye bags are insanely dark, and you look exhausted."
"Wow, thanks for the compliment," you deadpan. "You're so sweet, Lis."
"I'm being honest! You look like you haven't slept in a week." She leans in, voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. âJust come with me. Sit in the fancy chair. Drink the complimentary sparkling water that probably costs more than our electric bill. If you get the ick, we bail. No hard feelings. But if you donâtâŠâ
She gives you a look. "Youâll finally understand why Iâve been so zen since April. I havenât bitten a single nail.â
You glance at her hands. Her nails are, indeed, miraculously intact and even painted a cheerful coral. Probably the most compelling evidence of the night.
âThe second I feel a single⊠slurp⊠noise,â you say, holding up a finger. "We're out. We're getting cheesecake, and you're never mentioning this ever again."
Lisa's face brightens. "Yay! You're gonna love it, I promise."
"I have my doubts." You sigh, resting your chin in your hand, swirling your drink with the other. âI canât believe Iâm agreeing to be soup.â
âThe best soup,â she corrects cheerfully, already flagging down the waiter for the check. âA bisque, maybe. You have bisque energy.â
The Velvet Room is... not what you expected. It's like a kind of speakeasy, really.
Lisa leads you down a grimy alley, past overflowing dumpsters, to a nondescript black door. There's no sign, just a small, velvet-lined slot at eye level. She leans close.
"The moon is a lonely hunter," she whispers, clearly delighted with the phrase. You roll your eyes at her enthusiasm.
The door clicks and swings inward.
The ceiling is high and lost in shadow. The floor is scuffed wood, covered here and there with deeply coloured rugs that look like theyâve seen a century of parties. The walls are lined with shelves crammed full of books and records and strange little trinkets that you'd explore if given the time.
Low, squashy sofas and armchairs are arranged in little groups, lit by the soft glow of table lamps and hanging chandeliers. And there's jazz, a band playing in real time.
The place is busy. Not packed, but comfortably full. People are tucked into corners, talking quietly, laughing softly. You see a woman with red streaks in her hair offering her wrist to a vampire in a sweater.
A guy in paint-splattered jeans is leaned back in a chair, eyes closed in bliss while a vampire, who looks like she stepped out of a 1940s film, murmurs something near his ear.
"See?" Lisa squeezes your arm. "Totally upscale."
Before you can answer, a man rises from a deep armchair by the crackling fireplace. Heâs tall, with a kind, tired face and a neatly trimmed beard.
This, you assume, is Lisaâs Depression-era solitaire enthusiast.
âLisa,â he says, his voice warm and gravelly. âYou made it.â
âFranklin!â Lisa chirps, darting over to give him a quick hug. âThis is my friend. The one I was telling you about.â
Franklin turns his gaze on you. âA pleasure,â he says, extending a hand. You take it. âAny friend of Lisaâs is welcome here. Weâll take good care of you.â
Heâs nice. Heâs perfectly nice. But your attention is already snagged, pulled away like a compass needle finding north.
From a chaise lounge tucked in a darker booth near the band, two men are watching you.
One is all sharp edges and lazy grace, dressed in black, his hair a dark wave falling to his shoulders. Heâs staring with a frank, interested intensity, a slight smile playing on his lips.
The other is softer. Curly, sandy hair, a worn-in jacket over a simple shirt. He looks like heâd be more at home in a library, but his eyesâa warm, amber colourâare fixed on you with a focus that makes your skin prickle.
They are, without a doubt, the most beautiful people you have ever seen.
âYour friends?â you whisper to Lisa, nodding subtly towards them.
Lisa follows your gaze and her eyes go wide. âOh. Them. No. Thatâs⊠thatâs Remus and Sirius. Theyâre kind of⊠legendary around here. They only ever feed together. And theyâre really picky.â She lowers her voice further. âIt's okay. Franklinâs great, I promise. Very sweet. Safer. I don't know much about those two.â
But it's too late. The one in all black stands up first, moving with a liquid sort of grace. He says something, his voice too low to catch, directly into the other man's hair.
The taller oneâthe one with the soft curls and the kind eyesâturns his head, listening, then his gaze snaps back to you. He nods, just once, and stands up.
Before you can blink, even, they're across the room, having come to a stop right in front of your little group. They donât even look at Franklin.
âSheâs with us,â the dark-haired one says, his voice low and smooth. His eyes never leave your face.
âYes," the taller one murmurs, his tone softer but just as firm. âThis oneâs ours.â
Franklin lets out a small, resigned sigh. He gives your shoulder a gentle, almost apologetic pat. âSeems youâre in for a different sort of evening, my dear." He gives Lisa a look. âShall we?â
Lisa looks utterly gobsmacked. âUh. Yeah. Sure.â She gives you a wide-eyed, what-is-happening stare before letting Franklin lead her away to his cozy chair by the fire.
And then itâs just you and them.
âI'm Sirius,â the dark one says, finally introducing himself. He nods towards his companion. âAnd thatâs Remus.â
âHi, angel," Remus says softly, gesturing for your hand. You let him take it, watch in fascination as he presses a kiss to the back of your palm. He hands your hand over with entirely gentle care over to Sirius, who mimics the action, smiling against your knuckles.
âYou were right, Pads,â Remus murmurs, hazel eyes tracing over your face. âSheâs perfect.â
âI'm always right,â Sirius murmurs, lacing his fingers with the hand you'd extended to them, coaxing you towards their secluded booth towards the back of the room.
Remus sits first, settling back into the corner with an easy sigh. Then he looks up at you, pats his thighs. âHere, sweetheart. Best seat in the house.â
Your brain stutters. âOn⊠on your lap?â
âUnless youâd rather sit on mine, baby,â Sirius murmurs easily, sliding onto the chaise beside Remus, his movements fluid. âBut heâs comfier. And he gives better cuddles.â
âSirius,â Remus chides, but heâs still looking at you, his expression open and patient. âOnly if youâre comfortable. We wonât take a drop otherwise.â
Something in his soft, gentle tone makes the decision for you. Feeling surreal, you move forward and awkwardly perch on his thighs. His arm comes around your waist, guiding you to lean back against his chest.
âThere,â Remus murmurs into your hair, his voice a soothing vibration against your back. âThatâs it. Just relax.â
Sirius is immediately there, close. He takes your hand, his fingers cool as they find the frantic pulse in your wrist.
He lets out a soft, sympathetic tut. âOh, sweetheart. Youâre all wound up, arenât you? Letâs fix that.â
You feel Remusâs nose gently nuzzle the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, pushing your hair aside with a tenderness that feels more intimate than any kiss youâve ever had. âReady, love?â he asks, his voice a low murmur right by your ear.
"Mhm." You feel like you're floating.
Siriusâs lips curve into a smile against the inside of your wrist. âGood girl,â he whispers. âYou'll tell us anything you need.â It's a statement, not a suggestion. You nod anyway.
You feel Remusâs lips press softly against your skin, then a sharp, clean pinch that dissolves instantly into a warm, pulling feeling. At the same time, Siriusâs mouth finds your wristâa kiss, then the same precise sting, melting into that same bone-deep, golden warmth.
The effect is... woah. You totally get why Lisa has been so zen recently. The constant, buzzing static in your brain fizzles out. The weight on your shoulders dissolves. A sigh slips from your lips, and your head lolls back against Remusâs shoulder.
âThatâs it, love,â Remus coaxes against the soft skin of your neck. âLet it all go. Weâve got you.â
You float. The gentle tug at your neck and wrist is rhythmic, soothing. The jazz music wraps around you. You faintly hear Sirius makes a soft, humming sound of pleasure against your skin.
âPerfect,â he murmurs, his voice thick. âSo good, baby.â
You are held, completely, between them. Remusâs steady strength at your back, Siriusâs focused attention on your hand. You're putty in their hands, being moulded to their whims, being shaped to their wishes. Time becomes a soft, shapeless thing.
You are, for the first time in living memory, completely quiet inside.
âNever,â Remus murmurs, his lips moving against your throat, the words vibrating through you. âNever tasted anything like you, angel. Like honey and sunlight.â
You feel Siriusâs slow, deliberate swallow against your wrist. He lets out a shaky breath. âSo good.â
You make a soft, incoherent sound of acknowledgment, your head a heavy, blissful weight on Remusâs shoulder. You are completely, utterly droopy against them. Your limbs are loose. If they werenât holding you, youâd slide right off the chaise into a contented puddle on the rug, and you're not sure you'd entirely mind.
You feel the gentle draws begin to slow, becoming softer, more languid. Savouring. Theyâre drawing it out, reluctant to let the moment end.
You feel two soft, cooling licksâa faint, soothing stingâsealing the tiny wounds. A final, lingering kiss from Remus at your neck, as if he canât quite bear to let go of the spot.
Sirius turns your hand, his grip infinitely gentle, and presses a line of soft kisses from your wrist to the tips of your fingers. âThank you, baby,â he says softly.
For a long moment, they just hold you, letting you float in the aftermath.
Remus rocks you gently. Sirius strokes your palm with his thumb.
You blink your eyes open. You don't even remember when you'd closed them. The world's fuzzy at the edges, like how it gets when you're drunk, only better, 'cos you're not nauseous now.
âWelcome back, sweetheart,â Sirius says softly. Heâs looking at you like youâve hung the moon.
Remus nudges your hair with his nose. âHow do you feel, angel?â
It takes a monumental effort to form words. Your tongue feels thick and lazy. "Like jelly," you mumble, words slurring just a little. "The good kind," you add in reassurance. They probably don't need it. They probably know their effect on you.
Sirius lets out a delighted, choked laugh.
âJelly,â Remus repeats, his tone rich with amusement. âIâll take that.â
You try to nod, but your head just lolls to the side, coming to rest against Remusâs collarbone. Youâre practically melting off his lap, held in place only by the secure band of his arm. You make a half-hearted attempt to sit up straighter, but your muscles just wonât cooperate.
âOh, look at her,â Sirius coos, his voice dripping with fondness. He reaches out and brushes a stray strand of hair from your forehead. âAbsolutely boneless. You did so well, sweetheart. We turned you into jelly, huh?â
âSirius, donât tease,â Remus murmurs, but heâs pressing a smiling kiss into your hair. âHere, love, letâs get some water in you.â
He gestures to someone above your head, and almost instantly, a glass of water appears on the low table beside you.
Sirius picks it up and holds the rim to your lips. âCome on, baby. Small sips. Just for us.â
You obey, mainly because itâs easier than not obeying, and partly because you want to hear their praise again. You manage a few swallows before turning your head away with a soft, protesting noise, nuzzling instinctively into the warmth of Remusâs neck.
âAlright, alright,â Remus soothes, chuckling. âThatâs enough for now.â
Youâre drifting again, lulled by the steady beat of Remusâs heart (do vampires have heartbeats? This one seems to) and the gentle stroke of Siriusâs thumb over your knuckles.
âSo,â Sirius says after a moment, his voice unusually careful. âWe have a bit of a problem, Moony.â
âWhatâs that?â Remus asks, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm.
âWell, weâve found the perfect girl. And now we have to let her go walk out into the world, all wobbly and unsupervised. Seems irresponsible.â
A slow realisation curls through your jelly-like insides. They donât want you to leave.
It makes you feel warm.
Remus hums in agreement, his chin resting on top of your head. âIt does seem a shame. Weâve only just gotten her properly calibrated.â
You manage to peel your eyes open. âCalibrated?â you mumble.
âMhm,â Sirius says, leaning in close. His grey eyes are soft and serious as he tucks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up to his liking, eyes softening when you go lax under his touch. âTo us, sweetheart. You fit just right. Weâd⊠weâd really like to do this again. If you want to.â
âWeâd like to see you again, angel,â Remus adds, his voice a gentle rumble beneath your ear. âProperly. Not just here. Maybe for coffee, or... we could take you out to dinner.â
The offer hangs for a second. Itâs crazy. You've just met them. They just drank your blood. But...
A slow, drowsy smile spreads across your face. You donât have the energy for anything more. âMâgonna need a nap first,â you whisper. âA really long one.â
Siriusâs answering smile is brilliant. âWe can work with that.â He tucks a card into the pocket of your jeans, his fingers lingering for just a second. âOur number. Text us when you wake up. Or donât, if you don't want to. But we really hope you do.â
Remus helps you sit up, his hands steadying you as the world tilts a little. âCan you stand, love?â
With their help, you manage to get to your feet, though you sway like a sapling in a breeze, instantly leaning into Siriusâs offered side. They walk you back to where Lisa is sipping tea, looking thoroughly de-stressed.
âAll in one piece?â Lisa asks, eyes wide.
âBetter than,â Sirius says, his pride unmistakable. âSheâs flawless.â
You give Lisa a wobbly, blissed-out thumbs up.
As you're guided towards the door, Remus leans down, his lips brushing your ear one last time. âSleep well, angel. Dream of us.â
You're definitely going to call them.







