Chapter Text
Remus didn’t always have too much time for it, but there was nothing he liked more than sitting on the bench and watching Gryffindor City’s Hogwarts Stadium fill up with red and gold. The waves of chatter got louder and the seats filled, and it was a nice balance to the energy in the locker room as he walked back down the tunnel and through the doors, leaning against the wall with Moody. There, in case they were needed, but out of the way.
Even more than watching the fans, he liked watching the boys get ready. Kasey was down on all fours in a butterfly squat, full-pads making his body look huge and his head look tiny. Leo was down the hall some, throwing two balls against the wall and catching them quickly. Remus’ eyes blurred after watching for a minute and he looked away. Which turned out to be a mistake in itself.
Sirius was sitting in his stall, shirtless and knees spread to accommodate the stick he was taping between them. He didn’t have any of his pads on yet, typical Sirius, who always had to get ready at the last minute because he spent so much time on his stretches and sticks. He was just in his underarmour, the tight material leaving absolutely nothing to imagination. He had a Lions’ hat on backwards and stray strands of hair were sticking out of the front, casting shadows on his cheeks. He stuck his tongue out and wound the tape carefully around the blade of his stick, checking for wrinkles and creases every other turn. James was saying something to him with broad hand gestures, probably a play he wanted to get perfect tonight.
They all wanted to get everything perfect tonight. It was the home opener. The crowd would be wild, and the pressure would be on. Remus loved every second of it and he knew the boys did, too.
James let out a loud whoop then, clapping his hands together and and throwing his helmet on even though his pads were still hanging in his stall. “Let’s fucking go, tonight, eh boys? Durmstrang fuckers won’t know what hit them.”
He was met with a series answering shouts of approval, all of which amplified when Coach Weasley appeared through the locker room doors with the large lion on it. He grinned and held up a little slip of paper, tonight’s line up.
“Pots, since you’re already standing, why don’t you do the honors?” Arthur said, handing James the paper.
James hit his helmet on his head. “Alright, let’s see. Starting tonight,” the boys yelled and James dropped down a little, knees bent and voice low like the commentators, “in the cage,” there was another round of shouts and James wound up his arm and then bounded over to Kasey, “we have the man named for the sport of hockey itself, Kasey Winter.”
There were a series of “Yeah, Kase!” and “Be the fucking blizzard!” before James could continue.
“Next we have…on your left, Harzy!”
Harzy looked up from where he was lacing his skates with a little salute to the cheers.
“On your right,” James smiled around at them all, so wide that Remus could see where one of his outer bottom teeth was still missing, just out of sight. He pressed a hand to his own chest, “yours truly.”
“Alright, Potty-mouth!” Kasey shouted the nickname James had earned himself for his relentless chirping on the ice, name-calling and poking fun until the refs eventually had to call him on it.
“Your favorite D-man pairing, Kaner and our resident Finland-man, Olli!”
Timmy Kane and Olli Halla did some strange, complicated handshake.
“And your center tonight…the man, the myth, the one who holds the record for most marriage proposals by teenage girls at the glass,” Remus laughed at that and James ran back over to Sirius, pretending to take his stick just to see him flinch back, and taking his hat instead and placing it on top of his own helmet, “oh captain, my captain, Sirius mother-fucking Black!”
Everyone clapped a little, Arthur shaking his head fondly and Moody letting James run over and touch his leg for good luck, per tradition, and then it was really business time. There was some calmer chatter as everyone got into their gear and laced up, getting into the right headspace for a game.
Remus rifled through his own inventory in his head, making sure he would be prepared on the bench. He had extra blades for everyone, laces, sterile gauze, and a little box for teeth which he’d learned to keep the hard way (Olli Halla spitting a few directly into his open palm). He took one last look around the locker room before heading back to the mouth of the tunnel at the bench where the guys would pass on their way out for their lap-around introductions under the lights and warm ups. He could see some of the Durmstrang equipment guys over on their bench, and they exchanged nods that were friendly enough. Eagles games were always odd, not just for the competition—they had nothing compared to Lion and Snake games—but because their colors were nearly identical, and so the away-team always had to wear their more solid colored third-jerseys. Remus was glad they were on home-ice, so the Eagles would be the ones stuck in their nearly all goldish-yellow uniform, not the Lions.
Remus looked up at the stands, figuring his parents were out there somewhere, trying to keep Julian at bay, who was no doubt in his BLACK jersey and bouncing out of his shoes with excitement. At nine years old, Remus sometimes wondered if his little brother was a bigger Lions fan than even him, despite living halfway across the country from them.
He had a sudden fantasy of bringing Jules back to the locker room and Sirius being there, maybe James, too, and Sirius would give Jules a hockey stick maybe, and then smile at Remus—
“What’s with the face?”
Remus started, looking at Moody who had brought out the fresh bottles of gatorade and water.
“What? What face? Nothing.” Remus reached forward and started to help him line the bench with them. “I wasn’t making a face.”
“Alright, at ease.” Moody laughed a little. “Jeez, Lupin.”
Remus desperately tried to change the subject, “How’s the lucky leg?”
Moody scoffed, giving it a stomp. “It’s been kissed by Harzy, that’s what. Fucking crazy-ass.”
Remus laughed and sat down on the bench, looking up towards the jumbo-screen where they were showing a video of a few of the guys saying what they did that summer. James was on, giving a typically sarcastic answer. Something about hamburgers. When Sirius’ faces came on next there was a positive roar from the crowd and Remus felt flushed with their enthusiasm. Gryffindor loved their Captain, and they were just as eager to avenge him as the team was. It was pretty fucking thrilling to sit and watch it all, but if he could, Remus would be out there on the ice, fighting to get Sirius ever goal and point he could. He pushed that thought down just as the lights shut off and the music stopped, signaling the beginning of the Lions’ entry onto the ice, their first of the season. Remus’ heart pounded.
“Gryffindor!” boomed Frank Longbottom’s voice, one of their beloved announcer. Frank came with the team on the road, along with Marlene McKinnon. Butts and Kinzy were well loved by the team, and, maybe unfortunately for them, the subjects of many pranks, but Remus was sure they loved the boys’ attention as much as he himself did. The crowed boomed back in response and then the jumbo-screen bloomed to life, along with the lights and the lasers that streaked across the crowd and ice.
“Are you ready?” Frank asked the stadium, and then the jumbo-screen started counting down from ten with loud booms that quickly developed into a bass-heavy song.
“Ten…nine…” Remus found himself smiling, mumbling the numbers under his breath.
“Your Gryffindor Lions!” Frank drew out the words and the lights went crazy as the boys appeared down the tunnel.
Kasey came first, goalie mask propped on top of his head as he skated out onto the ice. Then Timmy, Finn, Leo…Olli, Brady, Evgeni, Kris, Tyler…
They all looped around the rink, warming up and pounding on the glass, laughing when the crowd pounded back. Remus liked watching the rookies the most, their eyes alight with the attention and praise.
And finally James, always second to last, and then Sirius, always last. Remus watched him come all the way down the tunnel, just in time for his name to be read out by Frank. Sirius raised his glove and knocked it into a few of the kid’s fists who had made it down by the glass, before scampering back up to their parents, delighted with having received a fist-bump.
Remus didn’t expect Sirius to look back at him, but for the split second between him being beside the bench and him being on the ice, their eyes met. And Sirius dropped a wink. And he was gliding away, dropping to one knee as he went and raising his stick a little, drawing screams from the crowd. They were happy to have him back. Sirius was cocky, and Remus didn’t like to admit that he loved that, but he did.
Sirius belonged on the ice, that much had always been clear, and when he wasn’t there, something was out of gear. Everything felt settled now, ready.
The lights came up after a bit and then Eagles filtered on, too, taking shots at their goalie. Victor Krum crossed center ice and met Sirius where he was talking to James, offering a somewhat stiff hand. Sirius smiled, so Remus guessed he had welcomed him back. The Eagles were good like the Snakes, but they weren’t assholes like they were. Remus watched Sirius pluck at Krum’s shoulder, no doubt chirping him for the bright yellow color, and Krum laughed, nudging him back and skating away.
Kasey was busy nesting his goal, scraping up the crease with his long goalie skate blades and catching the boys’ practice shots. Remus watched him for a minute, always enjoying how specific and protective Kasey was of his goal (he patted his posts whenever a puck got knocked askew by one, for god’s sake), but soon his attention was—predictably—dragged away by Sirius. Sirius had a routine, a strict routine, and there was few things Remus loved more than watching him go through it. Remus wasn’t sure he even knew about all of it, but he wanted to. He knew Sirius had to tape his own sticks, do specific stretches in a specific order, had to put his left skate on first, and during warm-ups he had to trace the Lions logo with a puck. He knew Sirius liked to have two pieces of toast with butter and honey an hour before games. Remus wished he knew more, secretly. He wanted to know how long Sirius’ pre-game nap was and what he looked like when he woke up from it—
“Earth to Remus Lupin.”
Remus’ slowly spiraling fantasy was abruptly cut off by James waving a glove in his face.
“What?” Remus stood up. “Sorry, what’s up, what do you need? James, face-off’s in like two seconds, you’re on first shift.”
“I just want some gatorade and it’s all red.” James practically pouted.
Remus huffed out a laugh and handed him a blue, shifting to the side as the other team members shuffled down the bench, coach Weasley slapping a few of them on the back. “There, now go!”
James whooped and skated off to take his position. Sirius was at center ice, eye to eye with Krum, the ref between them with the puck. They crouched, eyes on the puck, and Remus said a soft prayer to whatever god anyone could believe in.
The ref dropped the puck, and the game began.
Remus was on his feet the entire time. He was meant to be watching for any trip-ups, any hard hits, anything that might need to be looked at. Instead, he kept catching himself just enjoying the game, standing behind the bench. Sirius came careening over the boards, tapping Brady’s butt as he jumped onto the ice to replace him, and sat down heavily in front of Remus. He turned, sweat dripping down his temples.
“iPad,” he said, and one of the assistant coaches held it out to him. Sirius stayed turned, brow intense as he watched a replay of his latest shift, and so Remus got to study his profile. He loved Sirius in the heat of a game, loved how fast he talked. He leaned over to explain something to Olli, who leaned in like if he didn’t catch every word, he’d parish. Everyone on the team tended to listen to Sirius like that, like he was their leader through thick and thin.
“How’m I doing?” Sirius said as he handed the iPad back. Remus assumed he was talking to the coaches until Sirius’ eyes fell on him.
“Me?” Remus asked—stupidly.
Sirius smiled, “You.”
“You look great out there. You know you look great out there.”
James laughed, whacking Remus lightly in the stomach with his glove. “Way to call him on it, Loops.” Then the whole bench leaned back as Brady shoved an Eagles player nearly over the boards and into the bench. The crowd loved it, and James banged his stick on the boards after them. “Way to go, Shady-Brady!”
They were gone shortly after that, Coach calling for short shifts for the end of the first period.
“Keep ‘em coming boys, keep this lead!” he was shouting.
The Lions were up 3-1, and the atmosphere was electric. Remus loved this. It was the closest thing to being on top of the world there was, he thought. Suddenly, Sirius was on a breakaway up the ice off of a clean pass from Harzy. He skirted around number 16, number 3, with hard edges, and then he was nearly at the net—
Krum came out of nowhere, slamming Sirius into the boards.
Remus was on his feet in a second, pressing up behind Tyler and Evgeni on the bench.
It was a clean hit, but it felt like ages before Sirius got up. Remus didn’t even watch Krum take the puck, didn’t watch Kasey miss it, didn’t watch their goal-horn light up, didn’t watch the scoreboard change to read 3-2. He didn’t watch the Eagles celebrate.
He watched Sirius skate towards the bench. It was just for a shift change, but Remus looked over every part of him, checking for a limp, a wince, anything. He looked okay. James was on him in a second, skating shoulder to shoulder and talking to him. Sirius was nodded, even smiling a little, but Remus could tell he was shaken. To have something like that happen in the first game, and when he’d just gotten back…
The stadium filled with booing that felt like it shook the walls.
Sirius took his seat on the bench, but before Remus could get through his teammates and to him, the buzzer signaling the end of the first period was sounding and everyone was filing off the ice and back into the locker room. Good, Remus thought. He’d ask to see Sirius, he’d check him out fully, just to be safe.
Marlene was waiting for Coach at the end of the tunnel.
“Hey Arthur, who can we have for media?” she asked.
“Not Black,” Remus stepped in, “I want to check that hit.”
Coach nodded, “right. You can have Pots, or Kasey, I think.”
Marlene nodded and shot Remus a smile, which he returned tightly as he pushed between them and into the locker room. Sirius looked up at him almost immediately, like he had been waiting.
Remus only had to jerk his head towards the quiet and training rooms, before Sirius was getting up and following him. Remus held the door open to the quiet room. It was technically for concussion testing and protocol, and Remus hadn’t seen Sirius hit his head, but better safe than sorry. Sirius stepped inside and Remus closed the door.
“How do you feel?” Remus asked, then pointed to the padded observation table. “Sit there. I’m going to check your ankle and your head.”
“Loops—”
“Does anything else hurt?”
“Remus.”
Remus looked up.
Sirius loomed over him anyway, but he practically towered over him while wearing skates. Remus nearly had to crane his neck.
“What?” Remus asked, a little breathlessly.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. “It wasn’t a bad hit.”
“I know. But given your recent history I want to make sure everything’s fine.”
Sirius sat down on the bench and took his helmet off, laying it to the side along with his gloves while Remus bent to start unlacing his skates. Remus’ heart was still pounding, and Sirius’ gray desperate eyes filled his head. He wouldn’t be helpless this time. He’d fixed Sirius’ broken bone, and he wouldn’t let anything go amiss, not now.
“Durmstrang’s always a tough one to call, eh? Sometimes they’re brilliant and sometimes they’re…”
“Angry?” Remus supplied, carefully sliding Sirius’ skates off of his feet before rising.
Sirius laughed a little, “Yeah. For sure, yeah.”
“Look here.” Remus held up a small flashlight and a finger. Sirius looked, but right at Remus, not his finger. A small smile was still lingering on his face. “My finger, Black.”
Sirius laughed again but obeyed this time.
“When’s your birthday?”
“November third.” Sirius supplied easily.
“When is Pots’ birthday?”
“March twenty-seventh. When’s your birthday, Re?”
Remus chest fluttered a little. He clicked off the flashlight, satisfied. “March tenth.”
“Hey, you and James are birthday-buddies.”
Remus rolled his eyes, “Raise your arms. Touch your—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Sirius obediently brought his fingers to his nose and back out again a few times, then, without prompt, got up and walked in a straight line, toe to heel, and turned and looked at Remus expectantly.
Remus narrowed his eyes at him. “And your ankle? Tell me the truth.”
“Fine.” Sirius smiled and sat down in one of the chairs in the room to start getting his skates back on. “Really, Loops, I’m alright. It probably looked worse than it was.”
“It took you a bit to get up.”
Sirius shrugged down at his laces, digging his heel in to pull them tight, “I’ll admit, I was a little surprised. It’s the first real time I got hit since…you know. Since Snape. But you said it yourself,” He looked up at Remus then, sweat damp hair falling into his eyes a little, cheeks flushed, “can’t let the fear get to me, can I?”
Remus swallowed dryly. “Right. Yeah.” He watched Sirius until he was standing again and pulling his gloves back on, tucking his helmet beneath his arm. “Right, right. Sorry.” He opened the door, “Have a good second period, okay?”
Sirius paused beside him in the doorway, tall as ever with his skates back on and looking down at Remus. “Hey.”
Remus looked up at him. Sirius had a funny expression on his face, something soft and determined.
“Don’t ever say sorry for helping me,” Sirius’ voice was low when he said the words.
Remus caught one last glimpse of the odd expression, and then Sirius was gone, enveloped back into the energetic mass of the team.
They won 5-3, Sirius with three points, two goals and one assist, in the second and third period.
The locker room was ecstatic afterwards, and Remus was kneeling to tape up Kasey’s thigh for him when Arthur came out with the lion head. The lion head was this seasons team token, of sorts, an object that got past around the locker room after every game, depending on who played best that night. For the first game of the season, Coach was the one who handed it out. After that it would go from player to player. This year, the object looked like an overly-furry lion-mane and nose, maybe from some poor, cotton stuffed animal, sewed onto a baseball cap. Remus grimaced just looking at it. He didn’t want to think about how sweaty and disgusting that thing was going to become by the end of the season.
“Great game, boys. Great start to the beginning of the season.” There were some cheering and Arthur smiled, waving his hand, “As you know, it is my pride and joy making our season tokens.”
“What section of the wall is last year’s going on?” James said, making everyone laugh. Arthur’s creation last year had been a monstrous blend between a gladiator helmet that had a yarn lion tale glued to the back of it.
“Front and center, thanks for asking.” Coach said. “This year, we have…”
Kasey started a drumroll which the entire locker room eventually joined in on.
“Lion-cap. Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Arthur held it up. “And tonight…I’ve got to give it to the captain, don’t I?”
“Yeah you do!” James pounded the wall of his stall with his fist.
“Quite a hit, and beauties of goals. Sirius.”
Sirius laughed as he walked forward, just his underarmour on again, and put the hat on, crouching into a ridiculous pose so that James could take a picture. He looked hilarious in it, the mane fluffing out around his ears and the nose resting on the brim.
“Thanks, Coach.” He said, and then handed it off to Remus for safe keeping, per tradition. Remus was always put in charge of bring the token on roadies, and keeping track of who got it when.
Remus felt his phone buzz in his pocket and was pulled abruptly from the bubble of the team when he saw his mom’s name flash up. He slapped a hand to Kasey’s shoulder, telling him he was done, and slipped out of the locker room to answer.
“Hey, mum.”
“Hi, baby. Great game!”
“It was,” Remus smiled. “I’ll be right out to get you guys and we can get ice cream or something. I just have to—”
“Remus?”
Remus pressed the phone to his shoulder, turning on his heel back to the locker room. Sirius was standing there, head poking out and smiling a smile that looked almost—shy.
“Yeah? Hold on, mum—Sorry, can I help?”
“Bring them back,” Sirius said.
“Huh?”
Sirius rolled his eyes, “Your family. Bring them back, show them the locker room and stuff.”
“Oh.” Remus’ heart beat. He would love that. Julian would freak out. “Oh, I don’t want—”
“C’mon, the boys would love it. We can sign a jersey and stuff, or a stick.”
Remus’ mouth hung open for a minute before he heard himself say, “okay,” and Sirius grinned before retreating. Remus didn’t move until he heard his mom’s voice in his ear. He blinked a few times and raised his phone back up. “Hey, mum, do you want to…would you guys want to come back to the locker room?”
And so here Remus was, his parents and Jules in toe, walking down the all too familiar hallway.
Julian bounced up beside Remus, both hands around his arm. “Are we going to meet Sirius?”
Remus smiled, “probably.”
“Are we going to meet Pots?”
“Yep, him too.”
“Blizzard?”
Remus laughed, “I think you could meet Kasey, sure.”
“Can I take a picture with them?”
“If you say please,” Remus said, because it was definitely what his mom would say. Once they reach the locker room doors, he looked back at his parents. Both were wearing BLACK jerseys, which Remus found unbearably endearing and also slightly embarrassing now that Sirius knew how Remus felt about him as a hockey player. There was no doubt he was going to think Remus had had sway over his parents’ jersey choice. His dad was clutching his phone excitedly to his chest, and Remus couldn’t think why he hadn’t asked to do this sooner. He was glad Sirius had said something, and he’d make sure to tell him thank you later.
“Ready?” He asked.
“Ready, ready, open the doors!” Julian whisper-yelled.
The sound wave once Remus did hit them like a wall, and Remus heard Jules quiet down a little, maybe with nerves as the reality that this was actually happening set in, and Remus turned around to put a comforting hand on his back. He could see that the media was just leaving out the press door, which Remus was thankful for because it meant that none of the players would be surrounded by cameras. He didn’t want this to look like a photo-op.
He made eye contact with Sirius almost immediately, and tried to smile in a way that didn’t look like he expected Sirius to come over or anything. Sirius had a routine, and that included winding down. He looked like he was about to leave for his twenty minute cool down on one of the stationary bikes, and Remus didn’t want to interrupt that. But then Sirius was grinning and motioning them over.
“Oh.” Julian said softly from beside Remus, and Remus patted his head softly and motioned for his parents to follow him over to Sirius’ stall.
Sirius stood when they got there, grinning warmly.
“Who’s this?” Sirius asked, holding his fist out for a dumbstruck Julian to bump.
“These are my parents, Hope and Lyall, and this is Julian, my brother.” Remus said, smiling a little at Jules’ expression. His heart was pounding. “Say hi, Jules.”
“Hi Padfoot. I mean—” Julian flushed.
Sirius laughed. “You can call me Padfoot if I can call you Jules. You play hockey, bud?”
Julian nodded frantically, “yeah, I’m a center, too.”
“Nice.” Sirius raised his eyes briefly to Remus’ parents and held out his hand for them to shake, “Hi, I’m Sirius.” As if they didn’t know, as if they weren’t wearing his last name on their backs, “Did you all enjoy the game?”
“That was such a nasty hit on you.” Julian said, eyes going from Sirius’ face to his locker to his pads to his stick.
“It was, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, we hope you’re alright.” Hope said with a very motherly disapproving frown.
Sirius nodded and, to Remus’ surprise, threw an arm around Remus’ shoulder. “Your son took care of me. Remus takes the best care of us, right James?”
James had come over with a protein bar hanging out of his mouth, but took a bite and chewed quickly when he put together who he was speaking to.
“Jesus f—” He looked at Julian whose eyes were practically hearts. “Hi,” James said again, laughing a little at himself, “you must be Loops’ parents.” James looked down at Julian again, “And older brother, I presume? What’s up, man? Here to try out?”
“Yeah.” Julian said softly, clearly barely able to think, and they all laughed.
Remus, on the other hand, was much to pre-occupied with Sirius’ arm which, having slid away from his shoulders, was now briefly a warm, pressing weight between his shoulder blades, before it disappeared completely as he slapped the seat of his stall.
“Well I’m certainly not going to have a spot on this team if you’re playing, so you might as well take a seat. Let’s see, what will he need to be a Lion, Pots?”
James crossed his arms, pretending to think hard. “Jersey, definitely.”
“Oh, two, I’d say.” Sirius added, “And a couple sticks, don’t you think?”
Julian, now seated snuggly in Sirius’ stall, was red-cheeked with happiness.
“On it.” James said, and winked at Remus as he left to get a few of his and Sirius’ jerseys and sticks to sign.
Sirius on the other hand, crouched down to Julian’s level. “Hey, Jules, do you know how awesome your brother is?”
Julian grinned up at Remus, then back at Sirius. “Yeah.”
Sirius nodded back, “He does practically everything for us. Gets us new skate blades, makes sure we have what we need on the road, keeps us healthy.” Then Sirius looked at him with a similarly fond and happy expression that Julian was wearing, and Remus felt a little like he might cry which would be completely and utterly embarrassing. “He’s pretty great.”
Remus felt his own cheeks flush. “Okay, okay, thanks.”
Hope laughed from beside him, squeezing him in a one armed hug. “Never could take a compliment, could you, Re?”
“That was a lot of compliments.” Remus laughed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stop looking at Sirius and Sirius wasn’t looking away.
Remus felt like he was back in Sirius’ car, unsure what it all meant.
“Hey, did you know I’m your brother’s favorite player?” Sirius asked Jules.
“You’re mine, too! We both have your jersey!”
Remus flushed and had to look away from Sirius and his raised eyebrows then, pretending to watch James come back across the locker room with the gear. He didn’t want to hear what Sirius had to say about that.
James and Sirius were both at Julian’s level for a good fifteen minutes, signing things, taking pictures, and talking hockey. Kasey even came over before leaving to sign the jerseys and offer one of his own sticks. Remus didn’t know how Julian was going to carry it all.
His parents eventually left for their hotel with promises to meet him for breakfast the next morning and their favorite pancake spot—really everyone’s favorite pancake spot—in Gryffindor. Remus watched them walk back to their car until they turned out of view, smiling to himself at Jules’ insistence that he carry all three sticks and wear both jerseys at once.
Remus stopped by the exercise room on his way back to lock up the office for the night and, as expected, Sirius was there. He looked fresh off the bike and was on one of the mats, stressing his fingers towards his toes. Remus knocked lightly.
“Hey,” Sirius said with a grin.
“Hi.” Remus walked in a few more paces and leaned against one of the treadmills, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the floor softly. “I don’t want to interrupt you or anything, but I just wanted to thank you. For earlier. You—You really made my little brother’s life, there. He loves you guys.”
Sirius stood, dusting off his leggings and picked up his water bottle from the floor. “I hope he’s not the only one.”
Remus bit back a smile, and his heart clenched. If only Sirius knew what he was saying.
“Of course,” was all Remus could think of to reply.
“You’re family seems great, Re. Really.”
“They are,” Remus replied before he thought about what that statement probably meant, coming from Sirius. Sirius who didn’t have a family like that. Remus felt guilt and the want to strangle anyone who didn’t love Sirius properly swirl in his chest. Sirius deserved so much. Look what he would do for just one kid who he never even met, for Remus, who he barely knew outside of his work.
“I’m headed out soon.” Sirius said. “Do you need a ride?”
Remus shook his head, “Moody said he’d drive me.”
Even though everything in him was screaming at him to lie and say yes, he didn’t want to explain that to Moody.
“Ah.” Sirius said, nodding. He looked, if not disappointed, something like it. “Okay. Well, let me know, eh? Any time.”
“Thanks, Sirius.” Remus was aware of how soft his voice sounded, but there wasn’t much he could do about it with Sirius’ gray eyes on him.
Sirius smiled, a soft and lopsided thing, and Remus’ heart flipped in his chest. As Sirius left for the showers, Remus got back to his desk. On it, was a hat.
It was a Lions hat, red with gold piping and the gold lion. On the bill, in the gold sharpie that the team used for signing, was a messily scrawled message and a signature. Sirius’ signature, complete with the number twelve.
I’m glad I’m your favorite, it read.