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When he was very little, Remus’s mum told him that sometimes, if you are very good and very patient, wishing on a star just might make your wish come true. 

“It only works on the big things, annwyl,” she said as she held him on her lap, wrapped in a thick quilt she’d made with her own hands. “So don’t waste your wishes. Keep them until they matter, and then send them to the stars.” 

Remus is big now. He’s five, and he’s never dared use a star wish before. He’s wanted to, sure. Like when Albin stole his train and broke it. Or when Marcy said she was going to tell her mum that he’d hit her, even when he didn’t. He didn’t wish on stars then, even though it seemed really important at the time. 

That should count in his favor, right? If he makes a wish now, and he never ever ever has before, it will be granted, right?

Remus sits on the window seat in his room, on the second floor of their new house somewhere in Wales. He’s wrapped in the same quilt his mum held around him when she first told him about wishing and stars, hoping that maybe it gives him extra magic. 

He searches the sky until he finds the brightest star he can see. It makes sense to wish on the brightest star. It has the most magic to give. Remus stares at it, trying to focus on it, before he makes his wish. 

Remus has thought for ages about what to wish for. He heard his papa tell his mum that he was cursed forever, and that there was no cure. He wasn’t supposed to hear, but papa thought he was asleep and Remus didn’t tell them otherwise. Remus doesn’t want to waste the wish if the star can’t fix curses, so he doesn’t want to ask for that. 

He wants to wish to go back home, but papa says that it isn’t safe there anymore. Papa says that the other kids won’t play with him now, that their parents are afraid of him and the monster he has become. Remus doesn’t feel like a monster, but he doesn’t want the star to make his friends unsafe. 

He’s not sure, really, what power the star has, but he thinks he knows something he could ask for that wouldn’t be too hard. He hopes, anyway. It’s just, well, he’s so lonely. 

“Star light, star bright, the brightest star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” Remus takes a deep breath. “Dear Mr. Star. I'm so very lonely. Could you send me a friend who can play with me? Someone who will be safe from my monster. Please. Oh, and Thank you.” 

The star winks at him, or it feels like a wink, and Remus wonders if maybe wishes really can come true. 

The next day, Remus plays in the back garden. There’s not a climbing tree, not like the one he had at their old house. It had a great big tire for a swing hanging off of one of the really big branches, and it is Remus’s favorite thing in the whole wide world. 

Was. They couldn’t take it along with them when they left, though Remus tried. He still misses it. 

There is a tree back here, but it’s a wispy little birch tree. He can’t climb it because the limbs are too soft and would break. Which is stupid. It does have peeling, papery bark, and Remus is ripping it off in strips to form his own library of Alexandria, a story his papa loves to tell, when the boy appears.

The boy clamors over the back hedge that surrounds the garden and lands with a little oomph. Remus is staring at him in surprise—nobody has just climbed the hedge before, maybe it’s a new town thing?—when the boy stands up and dusts his knees, pushing his black hair out of his eyes. “Hullo!”

“Who are you?” Remus asks, gathering his paper scraps to his chest. 

“I’m Sirius. Want to be friends?” Sirius asks.

Remus hesitates. “But what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you. Are you playing a game?” Sirius peers curiously at the birch scraps. “Is that for a great big fire?”

“No!” Remus says quickly. “They’re books. From the great library of Alexandria. I’m playing pretend that I’m a librarian there and it’s my job to take care of the books. Would you… um, do you wanna check a book out?”

Sirius grins. He nods, bright eyed and beaming. “Yes please! Ummm, but actually, I need a really special book. Can you help me find it?”

Remus’s heart picks up. Finding a special book? That sounds like an adventure. “Yes! I know where lots of books are. What’s your special book called?”

Sirius tilts his head to consider. “The Kish tablet,” he says eventually.

“Oh, but, that’s a tablet. These are books,” Remus says seriously, a little furrow between his eyebrows. 

“Right, I meant to say the Kish tablet book. That’s what it’s called,” Sirius says. 

Remus considers this, but it sounds alright. He hurries over to the hedge—only it’s not a hedge, it’s a ginormous book shelf, stacked with books upon books upon books, all the ancient ones his papa likes to tell stories about. “Oh I’m sorry sir,” Remus begins, and then abruptly drops out of his Librarian Voice and becomes Remus again. “Uh, what’s your name?”

“How about my name is Monsieur Fiddlefaddle?” Sirius asks.

“Okay,” Remus says, and becomes a librarian again. “I’m sorry mon-sewer Fiddlefaddle, but that book you want is in the spookiest part of the whole library.”

“Good thing I have this sword!” Sirius says, snatching up a branch—no, a gleaming sword, studded with rubies on the hilt. He brandishes it proudly, and the sun reflects off of its blade. 

Remus gasps. “Oh! Can you slay the spooky ghosts in that section so I can put away these books?”

“Lead on!” Sirius shouts, and Remus does.

They play together until the sun begins to set, and Remus is filled up with so much happiness he could burst. He’s never played for so long or had so much fun. He sits on the back steps, drinking a big cup of milk his mum brought out. She seemed surprised to find Sirius, but came back a moment later with another cup of milk, which Sirius guzzles at Remus’s side.

“Do you live here?” Remus pants before big sips.

“Yeah, nearby,” Sirius says, gesturing vaguely. 

“Will you be here tomorrow?” Remus asks, hope flaring in his chest. 

Sirius swallows the last of his milk, then wipes off his milk mustache with the back of his hand and a gasped ahhh. “Yep! Wanna play more?”

Remus feels like he’ll burst. He throws his arms around Sirius in a hug, squeezing him. “Yeah! I wanna play more!”

Sirius laughs, but not a mean laugh. Just like he’s as happy as Remus is. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll play some more.”

That night Remus sleeps hard, worn out from running around with a friend. In the morning he wakes eager and bouncing, and his mum laughs when she finds him eating his breakfast as fast as he can. “What’s gotten into you, annwyl? You’ve got ants in your pants!”

“My friend from yesterday is going to come back and play with me more today!” Remus says brightly.

His mum’s face softens. “Is that so? And what is your friend’s name?”

“Sirius,” Remus says.

“And how old is Sirius?”

“Dunno,” Remus shrugs. He’s five, and Sirius looks kinda as tall as him. “I want to play animals today. I’m going to be an elephant.”

“Maybe you’ll bring Sirius in to say hello and meet your mum for lunch,” Hope suggests.

“Okay!” Remus agrees. He eats the rest of his breakfast in record time and then runs outside. First he goes to the back garden, since that’s where Sirius found him last time. But out back is quiet, just the noise of the wind running through the trees. Remus hurries to the front, going all the way to the lane that leads into town. He looks up and down it, but there’s nobody.

Remus’s stomach is starting to hurt. Maybe because he ate breakfast too fast. But it feels different than that. It feels like when they packed up the old house and Remus had to say goodbye to all his favorite trees, and when he asked his papa when he’d see them again, his papa had just frowned and touched his hair and left the room. It feels like that.

Remus goes back and forth from the front garden to the back until he feels like he’s going to tread a permanent path in the grass. Sirius said he’d come back. Sirius said they’d play again.

“Liar,” Remus whispers. He wipes the back of his sleeve over his face, where his eyes are starting to prick with tears. “Sirius, you lied!”

“Huh?” Sirius asks, and when Remus looks up, Sirius is by the wimpy birch tree in the back garden, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “What’d you say?”

Remus blinks quick, all the big, lonely feelings replaced almost instantly with joy. “I–I thought you weren’t going to come play with me again,” he says.

Sirius yawns, pushing away from the tree and coming towards Remus. “That’s silly. Of course I came back.”

Sirius looks sleepier than he did yesterday, which is when it occurs to Remus. “Oh. You like to sleep in, huh?”

Sirius nods, a smile stretching over his face. “Morning is really bright,” he says. 

“My papa is like that. He stays up late and sleeps in the morning. Mum says he’s a night owl,” Remus says, but inwardly he’s relieved. Sirius came back, he just came a little later. He’s a night owl, like papa. 

Sirius laughs. “I could be an owl,” he says, and immediately he puts his two arms out, pumping them like they’re two majestic wings. 

Remus fills up with excitement. He wanted to play animals today! He puts one hand out in front of his face and it becomes a trunk, grey and wrinkled, through which he trumpets proudly.

“Ahhh!” Sirius shouts. “Owls are scared of elephants!” He begins flying–running–away, his wings going fast and strong.

“I’m a friendly elephant!” Remus calls after him, stomping his great big feet into the grass. “You don’t haf’ta be scared!”

Sirius flies all the way to the birch tree, scrambling behind it and peering curiously at Remus. “Are you the good kind of elephant or the bad kind of elephant?” he hoots.

“The good kind,” Remus promises. He waves his trunk in the air in a show of good faith. “I’ll bring you a treat to prove it.” Everybody knows owls like mice, so Remus begins to hunt for one. Well, not a real one, but a rock that looks like one. It takes him a few minutes to find one, but when he does, he holds it in his trunk-hand and approaches Sirius carefully. “Look, Mister Owl, here is a mouse for you.”

Sirius peers at the mouse-rock and gasps. “That is a really good mouse. How did you find it?”

“I’m good at finding mice,” Remus says proudly. “All elephants are.”

Sirius grabs the mouse with one set of talons and hums appreciatively. “I can see you’re the good kind of elephant. Maybe we should be friends and also save the world.”

“Yeah,” Remus agrees. “Yeah, I think that’d be fun.”

Remus drags Sirius inside the house at lunch time. He doesn't wantto come, pulling back on Remus’s hand to stay outside. “I can’t meet your mum! Does she even believe in wishes?”

Remus stops suddenly, still holding Sirius’s hand, and turns to look at him. He looks afraid, which is weird because he didn’t even know Sirius knew how to be afraid of things. He’s so brave, except when faced with Remus’s mum. “Oh, she does.” 

“Are you sure?”

“She taught me all about wishes, and how to make them,” Remus says. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Sirius says, but he still doesn’t seem sure. “Okay, but don’t let her send me away.” 

“Never,” Remus says. 

His mum already has sandwiches with sweet oranges set on the table for them, and Remus hops into the chair and immediately starts eating. “C’mon Sir’us,” he says with a full mouth. “Eat.” 

His mum turns and looks at him sternly, but the smile beneath it breaks through. “Remus, baby, don’t speak with your mouth full.” 

Remus swallows. “Sorry. This is Sirius, mum. He’s my friend.” 

“Hello, darling,” Hope says. “I’m very glad to meet you. Would you like some lunch?”

Sirius crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you believe that stars can grant wishes?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Some of the things I hold most dear are due to wishes on stars. Like Remus.” She winks at Remus, who can’t help but grin at her with a mouthful of orange. “Do you believe that rainbows are made by magic?”

Sirius’s arms drop immediately, and his face lights up. “Oh, yes. Rainbows are absolutely magic.” 

“Good,” Hope says. “Let’s have lunch and talk about it.” 

When they finish eating, Remus has to pull Sirius away from his mum to go back to play. “Come on, Sirius. I saw a castle in the yard and we have to go storm it.” 

“Okay!” Sirius says. “But I get to be the rain.” 

“You can’t come play with me tomorrow,” Remus says one day after lunch. He didn’t want to say it. So he didn’t for a long while, but he has to now. “And you have to leave soon.” 

“Oh,” Sirius says, looking down at the rocks in his hands that he’s cracking as eggs into the mud and grass cake batter. “Do I have to leave forever?”

“No, Just for tomorrow,” Remus says. “I’m going to get sick, and I won’t be well tomorrow. You can come back the next day.” Remus decided this is what he would tell Sirius. His papa said not to tell anyone about his monster, but if he was sick, his mum wouldn’t let him play outside either. 

“I’m sorry you’re sick,” Sirius says. “Does it hurt?”

“Yeah,” Remus says truthfully. “But it’s alright. Mum gives me hot cocoa after.”

“Do you think I could come and have hot cocoa?” Sirius asks. “I‘ve never had any before.” 

“You want to come while I’m sick?” Remus asks, surprised. “Even if I can’t play?”

“Yeah,” Sirius says brightly. “I’m here for you, even if you’re sick.” 

“Okay,” Remus says. “Maybe we can watch telly while we have hot cocoa.” 

“I’ve never watched telly. Does it do anything?”

Remus laughs. “You’re silly sometimes.” 

Sirius smiles brightly. “So are you!” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

Remus’s mum comes out a bit later and tells Sirius he has to go home. Remus is glad, because he was starting to feel ouchy, like the moon is breaking him already. Sirius smiles and waves as he hops back over the hedge, and Remus follows his mum inside. 

She’s made him a bowl of vegetable stew and warm bread, which he eats slowly. If he eats too fast before the full moon, he ends up very sick. It was gross and he doesn’t want to make that mistake again. 

Papa comes home in the early afternoon, and by that point, Remus feels like the entire moon is on top of him, and it’s so heavy. Papa carries him out to the little shed, set a little way into the woods, setting him gently on the pine needle covered floor before pressing a kiss to his head and walking out. 

A tear slips down Remus’s cheek. Crying doesn’t help, he knows, but he can’t help it. It just hurts, and this is only the beginning. 

He jumps in surprise when a warm tongue licks the tear off of his cheek. His eyes flash open, and he’s met with a fuzzy black puppy with bright grey eyes. “How did you get in here?”

The puppy tilts his head to the side, tall ears flopping with the movement. Remus wants to reach out to scratch his ear, but the moon is so close and he can’t. “You have to go.” 

The puppy sneezes, shaking his head. “You can’t be here. You have to go, or my monster will hurt you.” 

The puppy licks his face, then worms himself under Remus’s arms so that he’s pressed to Remus’s chest. Remus tries to protest more, to chase the puppy away, but it’s too late. The moon has risen and Remus is being ripped apart, and he’s so afraid that this puppy will be torn apart too. 

Remus wakes up on the pine needle floor, and he waits for the hurt. It always hurts, big scratches on his legs or arms, bites on his tummy. His monster is always is so angry and mean. 

But instead of the hurt, there’s just the puppy, his cold nose pressed to Remus’s cheek. Remus tries to speak, but his body is still remembering how to be a body, and he can’t make any words. He can only stare in wonder at the puppy, whose tail thumps happily against the ground as he licks Remus’s nose.

The puppy isn’t hurt at all. He isn’t ripped up, and neither is Remus. His body remembers how to be a body, and when he eventually sits up, there’s no mean marks on him. 

There’s footsteps outside, and the puppy darts to the dark corner of the shed as the door opens and papa comes in. “Remus,” papa says in his deep voice. “Lie back, son, you can’t be up and going so soon.”

“My monster didn’t hurt me,” Remus says as his papa scoops him up in his big, strong arms. “Papa, my monster didn’t hurt me at all.”

Remus normally sleeps all day after the full moon, but this time he’s up after lunch, begging his mum to go play. “Sirius will miss me,” he complains. “We’ll play easy, I promise.”

Hope finally gives in. “Only in the back garden, and nothing hard. Swear to me, Remus.”

“I swear!” Remus calls, but he’s already hurrying for the back garden, because he wants to find Sirius, and because he has a puppy to find.

Sirius hops over the hedge almost as soon as Remus comes outside. “Hi!” Sirius shouts, waving at him.

“Want to come on a secret adventure with me?” Remus asks.

Sirius’s face lights up. “I love secret adventures.”

“Great. Me too,” Remus says. He grabs Sirius’s hand and drags him to the garden gate. “We have to sneak out.” 

“Why?” Sirius asks, slipping out behind Remus. 

“Because it’s a secret adventure,” Remus says, half whispering. “We’re looking for a puppy. I’m going to keep him and name him Padfoot.” 

Sirius laughs. “Why Padfoot?”

“Because that’s what you name a dog.” Obviously, he doesn’t add. “Come help me. He’s about this big and all black and he’s cute.” 

Sirius helps Remus look. Well, really, he mostly watches while Remus looks, but he keeps asking questions, and that’s alright with Remus. 

“Was the puppy’s fur soft?” Sirius asks as Remus opens the shed door. 

“The softest,” Remus says. “I petted him a lot.” 

“How big were his paws?” Sirius asks. “Did you know that how big a dog’s paws are is a sign of how big they’ll grow up to be?”

“He had the biggest paws,” Remus says, getting on his hands and knees in the corner where he last saw the puppy. There wasn’t even a hole there. How did he get out? “Like the size of dinner plates.” 

“Did he wag his tail?” Sirius asks. “Did it go swish swish?”

“He did, but it was more like swap swap because it kept hitting the floor.” Remus couldn’t see how the puppy could have gotten in or out, but he was there. He leaves the shed and searches the outside wall. 

“Did he lick you? Was his tongue soft?” 

“He did, but his tongue was rough,” Remus rubs his cheek with the tips of his finger. He can almost feel it. “It felt funny.” 

“Did it hurt?” Sirius asks. His voice sounds funny, like when his mum holds him after the full moon, and it makes Remus stop looking for the puppy in the nearby woods long enough to look at Sirius. His eyebrows are pinched together, and Remus doesn’t like that look. 

“No, it didn’t hurt. Just felt funny.” He looks around again, but there’s no sign of the dog. “I think he’s gone.” 

“Maybe he’ll be back when you’re sick again,” Sirius says. 

“Maybe!” Remus says. 

Sirius plays with him every day for the rest of the summer. Remus’s favorite is when they play wizards, which he doesn’t think Sirius knows is what Remus really is, but they play anyway. They grab their stick-wands and fight a big bad guy who wants to rule the world. They always defeat him, obviously. 

Every full moon, Padfoot comes back. Remus cannot figure out how he’s getting inside. He even looks for the puppy when his papa drops him off, but he never manages to see it. 

He mentions it to his papa before one full moon, and his papa looks worried. Remus didn’t mean to make him worried. After he locks the door, Remus hears him casting spells on the walls, and Remus knows it’s meant to keep anything from getting in. 

Remus doesn't cry, though. Not really. Okay, he cries a little bit, but his dad is gone and Padfoot can’t come, and there’s no one there to see it. 

A wet tongue licked his cheek, and Remus shoots up. “Padfoot! You’re back! I thought papa locked you out!” 

Padfoot gives a little yelp, and Remus laughs. “I’m really glad you’re here. You make this all better.” 

Padfoot tilts his head, then butts it up against Remus’s chest. Remus lays down, and Padfoot curls up against his side. Remus runs his fingers through Padfoot’s fur. He stays there until the moon forces him to change. 

“I have to go away for a while,” Sirius says one day. 

It’s fall now, and Remus wears a thick jumper to go outside. He and Sirius are building a mountain of small rocks that they hope will make a good sledding hill once it snows. It’s only up to their knees right now, so they need to go find more rocks. 

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Remus replies, barely looking up from where he’s digging a rock out of the dirt.

“No, I—I have to go for a while.” 

His voice is different, like it hurts. Like when Remus had to tell his mother that he broke the glass on her picture of her mother, and he knew it would make her cry. His voice feels like that, and he wonders if Sirius thinks he’s going to make Remus cry. He wonders if he will cry. 

“Why?” Remus asks. 

“It’s almost my birthday,” Sirius says. “My father takes me on a hunt every year, starting on my birthday, and I can’t come back until we’re done.” 

“Oh,” Remus says. He’s heard of hunting before, but he’s never done it. “Will you be gone long?”

“Yeah,” Sirius says. 

“Oh,” Remus says. “Like a few days?”

“No, much longer than that,” Sirius says, and his head drops. 

Remus’s tummy is starting to hurt. “A week?”

Sirius hunches his shoulders. “I’m sorry. It’s a long time.”

“How long?” Remus asks. He puts his hand on Sirius’s arm, because that’s what his mum did when he broke the picture of Nana Eileen, touched his arm and told Remus she forgave him.

“Do you know what an equinox is?” Sirius asks. 

It’s a big word, but Remus does know it, because it’s important to his papa. It helps him make some special magic that makes the front garden grow big every summer. But it’s also forever away, all the way in the springtime, after the snow has fallen and melted, after Yule and everything. It’s as far as his birthday!

Remus is crying after all.

“I promise I’ll come back,” Sirius says, and then his arms are tight around Remus. “I promise. I’ll come back for you. I swear.”

“D-Do you p-pinky promise?” Remus asks, stuttering on his words because he’s sad and it’s so big, the sadness. He’s going to miss Sirius so, so much.

Sirius hooks their pinkies together and looks at him with big, solemn eyes, kind of how his papa looks when he’s doing magic. “I swear to come back as soon as the hunt is done,” he says.

Remus rubs his sleeve over his face. It’s not fair. Sirius is his only friend and now he’ll be gone, and Remus will have so many things to tell him. 

“I’ll miss you,” Remus says.

Sirius looks like he’s going to cry, too. “I’ll miss you too.”

“Come back soon, okay?”

Sirius nods. “As soon as I can. I promise.”

Remus knows he won’t be there, but he looks for Sirius anyway.

He searches the back garden, and then the front, and then the back again. He walks in and out of the house, closing the back door hard enough that maybe Sirius will hear it, and his head will pop over the hedge, and they’ll play together.

But Sirius has disappeared as neatly as Padfoot always does. Remus tries to remember how to play the alone games he used to play, but they aren’t as fun. 

“I know, baby,” Hope says one day, petting his hair. “I know it’s so hard.”

“It’s not fair,” Remus says.

“I know,” Hope says. She kisses his head. “It’s not fair at all."

It gets un-fairer. The moon comes, and it breaks Remus apart, and Padfoot doesn’t appear. Remus cries as he transforms and he wakes up crying, and his papa carries him to the house crying and crying and crying, and he sleeps all day because everything hurts but most especially his heart.

That night, Lyall brings him a special journal, wrapped up in leather with a string that ties it shut. He strokes Remus’s hair back from his face. “I know you miss your friend. I was thinking maybe you could write him some notes about what he’s missing, or draw him some pictures. Then you can show him when he gets back.”

Remus starts strong with the journal. He draws his morning breakfast. He makes up riddles. He draws Padfoot the puppy with missing signs above him. Hope helps him tape crunchy autumn leaves between the pages, and later, twigs from the bare birch tree in the back garden. 

He writes a list of his Christmas presents, keeps some ribbon tucked in the front cover. And then he starts to forget.

His days get short and slow, and he remembers how to play alone, and he starts reading books his papa brings home from the bookstore, stumbling over the bigger words, but at least it’s somewhere to hide. Somewhere the sadness can’t get him.

By the time the spring thaw comes, the journal has a layer of dust.

Remus turns six. He knows lots of things now, like who Aesop is, and some of his fables. He knows how to balance on one leg for a really long time. He knows how to say equilibrium because his papa taught him. He knows how to tie his shoelaces. He’s grown up.

But he doesn’t know what to do when he wakes up one morning, a few days after his birthday, and heads out to the back garden, and sees a familiar face he had almost stopped believing was real.

“Sirius!” Remus shouts, and Sirius grins at him like he missed Remus just as much as Remus missed him, and they hug so tight that they fall over, and then Remus is laughing into Sirius’s shoulder. “You came back! You came back from the hunt!”

“Of course I did!” Sirius says. He sits up, and there’s grass in his hair. He smiles big and bright. “I told you I’m here for you.”

“But you were gone so long,” Remus says.

Sirius nods. “The hunt is long, but I came back. I always keep my promises. ‘Specially pinky ones.”

All at once, Remus remembers the journal, and he leaps to his feet and runs inside so fast that the back door bounces against its frame. He rummages around his room, trying to find it, and when he eventually does, he goes running back downstairs, where Sirius is waiting on the back step for him.

“What’s that?” Sirius asks. He wrinkles his forehead. “Is that cow skin?”

Remus looks down at the journal. “Nuh uh. It’s leather. My papa got it for me.”

“Huh,” Sirius says. “What’s inside?”

“Messages for you!” Remus says. He sits beside Sirius and opens the journal, pointing to the first page, where he wrote to seerus from Remus j lupin. “I didn’t know how to spell your name,” he says.

But Sirius is practically glowing, looking down at the crayon marks. “You wrote messages to me?”

“Yep, and drew you pictures. Like this one is—oh! Mum made really great jammy biscuits and I wanted to save you one but she said it wouldn’t keep so I drew it instead.” Remus points at his drawing.

Sirius looks from the page to Remus’s face, and then he tosses his arms around Remus’s neck and hugs him tight. “Thanks, Remus. You’re the best friend ever.”

“You're my best friend too,” Remus says. He means it, because all of his other friends aren't real or are bugs he found in the garden, but he doesn't tell Sirius that part. He thinks it would make Sirius look sad again, and he doesn't like to make Sirius look like that. Instead, he says, “Do you want to play ships?” 

“There's no ocean,” Sirius says. “How do we play ships with no ocean?” 

Remus thinks about this, because it is a good point. Then he looks out over the lawn. “But there is an ocean. Don't you see it?” 

Sirius turns to look, and his face lights up like he can really see it. “I do! It's the best ocean. Can I be a pirate?” 

“I wanted to be a pirate,” Remus says. 

“How about we both be pirates together?” Sirius suggests. “It's a big enough ocean for two.” 

“Okay!” 

They play ships and pirates for the rest of the day. When Remus gets ready for bed that night, he looks into the night sky, planning to say thank you to the brightest star in the sky for bringing his friend back. Only, the star is nowhere to be seen. 

It must be listening, though, because that spring, Padfoot comes back too! He’s a little bigger, but just as soft, and just as good at escaping in the morning. Remus stops looking for him; he figures Padfoot doesn’t want to be found, that he’s a full moon dog. He’s just glad the puppy came back. His monster doesn’t hurt him all summer, not until the leaves turn, when Sirius goes back to the hunt and Padfoot disappears into the autumn chill.

The years continue in a similar pattern. Sirius spends the warm summers with him, but when the autumn leaves fall, he leaves to join the hunt again. Remus writes and draws and keeps everything so he can tell Sirius. Some nights, he tells the brightest star the things he wishes he could tell Sirius, and sometimes, it seems like it winks back at him. 

After the equinox every year, Sirius returns, and Remus shares all of the things he missed, and they make new memories all over again. 

“But-but we can't move!” Remus cries. 

“We have to. I'm sorry, Remus,” his father says. It’s December, cold and lonely. “We go where the stories are. And you love it when you get there. Remember how you didn’t want to move here, either?”

Remus knows this, of course. It's not the first time they moved, chasing what his papa calls folklore around the country. That doesn't matter, though. Only one thing does. 

“How will Sirius find me again if we move? He won't know where to find me?”

“I'm sorry, Remus. We have to go.” 

They're gone before the frost sets in. Remus wants to leave a letter for Sirius, but his mum says the letter won't last until spring. She promises to tell their old neighbors that they’ve left, but Sirius never talks to the neighbors, only to Remus. Instead, Remus tells the brightest star in the sky, apologizing for losing his wish, but the star only winks. 

The new house has bigger trees in the backyard, bigger even than the house Remus lived in before he became a monster. Remus is bigger now too, though. He's 9, almost 10, and that's all grown up. 

Being big also means that Remus doesn't cry when the full falls on his birthday. His tenth birthday. It’s fine. He’ll have other birthdays. It’s fine. 

He misses Padfoot too. There’s no way that Padfoot would come, and no reason to look for him in the little house with no windows where he follows his papa that evening, dusk settling around them. They live by the forest now. There’s lots of stories for his papa to find and write down. Remus would be happy for that, but he misses his friend, and his dog.

He’s going to miss the equinox, too, busy with the monster. He’ll miss the summoning magic his papa does, the way the garden shimmers with it. Remus drops down on the floor of the little house and pulls his knees up to his chest.

Lyall kneels in front of him, cups his cheek. “I love you, son,” he says.

“I love you too,” Remus grumbles.

“Things will look brighter in the morning,” Lyall promises.

But they aren’t bright. They’re dark, especially when Lyall closes the door and locks him in the house so his monster can’t get out and hurt anybody. Well, anybody but him.

Remus lies back on the floor and squeezes his eyes shut tight.

A cold nose presses to his cheek.

Remus’s eyes fly open, and when he sits up, there’s just enough dusk light to see a puppy with ginormous paws and shaggy fur. Ten is too old to cry, but Remus does, hugging Padfoot to his chest. The puppy licks the tears from his cheeks as he sobs and sobs. “I t-thought I lost you,” Remus whimpers between big, heaving breaths. “I thought you were—were all gone.”

Padfoot wags his tail so hard his whole body shakes, and when the moon comes to claim Remus, he isn’t by himself.

His monster doesn’t leave a scratch on him.

Remus wakes up the next day, and watches Padfoot slip away into the shadows before Lyall comes. He keeps his eyes open and refuses to rest, because he can feel hope brimming up in his heart. If Padfoot can find him… if Padfoot can come back…

“Baby, you need to sleep,” Hope insists, pressing a cool rag to his forehead.

“I need to go look for Sirius,” Remus insists. 

His mum looks sad at that. She bends and kisses his head. “Remus, love. Sirius doesn’t know where we live now.”

“He’ll be there,” Remus insists. “He’s here for me. Please, Mum. I have to go look.”

“Please rest, love,” Hope says.

“Just ten minutes. Let me go look for ten minutes and I promise I’ll sleep!” Remus begs.

Hope hesitates, and then she sighs. “We’ll go out in the back for ten minutes. No more.”

Remus jumps up, grabs the wristwatch he got from his papa for his birthday, and hurries to the stairs. He has to hold on to the banister going down, because his legs still hurt from changing, but his heart is hammering in his chest. He knows. He knows.

When he opens the back door and looks out into the forest, he isn’t sure where to look. Sirius always popped over the hedge before, but there’s no hedge now, just tall, dark trees and the first of the crocuses peeking up from the thawing ground. Remus cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Sirius! Sirius!”

“Remus,” Hope says, her voice wobbly like she might start crying. Remus doesn’t know why. This is happy. Sirius will be back.

“Sirius!” Remus shouts again.

“Baby,” Hope says, one hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry, I—“

“There you are!” Sirius calls as he hurries around the house, and Remus is so excited that he whoops for joy, pumping one hand in the air. 

“You found me!” Remus shouts.

“Course. I’m here for you,” Sirius says, and he throws his arms around Remus in a hug.

Remus squeezes him tight. “I thought you wouldn’t know where I was!”

“Oh my heavens,” Hope whispers.

Remus turns back to face his mother. “ Please can I stay up? Just this once? Please?”

“How?” Hope asks, but she’s looking at Sirius.

Sirius smiles at her. “Do you know what else is made by magic, besides rainbows?”

“What?” Hope asks.

“Friends!” Sirius says excitedly. “Can we play?”

“Mum, please!” Remus begs.

“I—I… Remus is a little peaky today, he needs…” Hope trails off, as if unsure what to say. Then she shakes her head. “Would you play inside? In Remus’s room?”

“Sure!” Sirius says. “We can be secret monks hiding in a forbidden library and play real, real quiet.”

Remus gasps. “And looking for a wristwatch from the legends!” He holds his wristwatch aloft.

“Zeus’s wristwatch!” Sirius agrees, and then both of them run upstairs. 

They play for hours, until eventually Remus does fall asleep on his bed, although he doesn’t mean to. He’s supposed to be meditating on a special weapon that will defeat all the evil in the world forever, and—well, he’s comfortable, and then he’s asleep. It’s afternoon when he wakes up, far past lunch, and he’s scared for a minute that it was all a dream, that Sirius never came back and Padfoot is still lost and he’s all alone. But when he sits up in bed, Sirius is curled up at his feet in a perfect little circle, just like how Padfoot curls up at his side on the full moon nights. He’s napping, too.

Remus smiles so big his face hurts, and then he lies back down and rests some more.

They move two or three more times over the years, but Remus stops being afraid. Padfoot always finds him, and Sirius is always waiting, every spring equinox. Remus goes to school; not Hogwarts, because of his condition, which is the new name he calls his monster by after he turns twelve and feels too grown up to believe in monsters. Instead he goes to school in whatever little village they live in at the time, and gnarled old people teach him secrets like how to brew potions and how to cast spells and how to identify lots of animals and bugs that not everybody can see. 

Padfoot licks his face before disappearing into the shadows of the hut. He’s big now, nearly full grown—which is confusing, because Padfoot has to be at least seven years old, but he acts like barely more than a puppy. Remus thinks that he’s just a fantastic dog. 

There’s something about Padfoot that Remus can’t quite put his finger on, though. Like seeing him tickles something in Remus’s mind that he can’t quite figure out. It’s not until Remus wakes from his nap to find Sirius sitting at the edge of his bed that he even considers that there might be something more there than he thought. 

“Is Padfoot your dog?” Remus asks.

Sirius smiles at him, and it’s something that feels a bit like mischief, or an inside joke that Remus doesn’t quite get. “Why would you ask that?”

“Well,” Remus thinks. “You’re always here at the same time. I thought you might take him on the hunt with you.” 

Sirius’s smile grows brighter. “Padfoot and I are familiar with each other, yes.” 

“Do you bring him with you? We could play with him together,” Remus says. 

Sirius laughs. “Padfoot and I can’t play together. If you would like to play with him though, I could get him.” 

Remus smiles. “No, that’s alright. I’d rather play with you.” 

“This game would work better with more people,” Sirius says. He drops his sword-stick and flops on the ground. “How am I supposed to rescue you from the evil monster if there’s no evil monster to fight?”

“I could be the evil monster, and you could rescue Bunny,” Remus suggests. Bunny is—was—Remus’s stuffed rabbit. He absolutely does not sleep with him anymore (thirteen year olds don’t need to sleep with stuffed animals, except maybe on the day right after really bad full moons, but only when Sirius is not with him), but Bunny makes an excellent stand in for buried treasure or a child to rescue from a burning building. 

Sirius pushes up on his elbows, evaluating Remus carefully, then flops back down. “Nah, there’s nothing monstrous about you. It wouldn’t work.” 

Remus doesn’t bother to tell him how very, very wrong he is. “Maybe we could play something else?”

“But what?” Sirius asks, sounding exasperated. “Everything needs another person. We can’t have a cooking competition without someone to judge. We can’t play starship explorers without an alien, and we can’t play banshee rescue without a banshee. Do you have any friends we could invite to join us?”

Remus begins picking at the dirt with a small stick. He tries not to let Sirius see how embarrassed he is, but his cheeks flush bright red. “No.” 

“No? No one is available? Maybe they could be, for a bit, if you asked them,” Sirius suggests. 

“No, there’s no one to ask,” Remus says. 

Sirius sits up. Remus glances at his face, just long enough to see curiosity but not pity. “Really? What do you mean?”

“I don’t have any other friends,” Remus says. “It’s just you.” 

“What do you do when I’m on the hunt?” Sirius asks. 

Remus shrugs. “I read a lot. And learn ma— uh, more. I learn more. And I help my mum do things.” 

“Oh,” Sirius says. He shrugs. “Okay, let’s find something else to play then.” 

“Adventurers?” Remus suggests. “I think there’s a mountain over there we haven’t explored yet.” 

“Perfect, let’s go.” 

The next day, Sirius is already outside when Remus opens the door, but he’s not alone. He’s standing next to a tall boy with russet colored skin and hair that stuck up at odd angles across his head. There’s something very odd about him, but he waves excitedly at Remus.

“This is James,” Sirius says. “He’s our friend.”

“Hi Remus!” James says, bouncing on his heels. “Sirius said I could come play monster with you?”

Remus hesitates. What if James doesn’t like him, and then Sirius doesn’t like him either? What if he does something wrong? It’s always been okay when it was just Sirius, but what if things change now?

Maybe Sirius can read his mind, because he comes and pats Remus on the shoulder. “It’s okay,” he says encouragingly. “I’m here for you.”

“Hi James,” Remus says carefully. “Um. You like to play monster too?”

“Oh yeah. I love it. Is it okay if I’m the monster? I never get to be the monster.” James says.

Remus is so glad he doesn’t have to be the monster this time. “Yeah. But, um, how do you play? Because maybe we play different and…” And I don’t want you to think I’m weird.

James shrugs. “However you play! You’re the hunt master.” Sirius elbows him, and James quickly says, “Er, the game master.”

“Do you go on the hunt too? With Sirius?” Remus asks.

James’s face grows solemn. He nods. “The hunt is very important.”

“But not as important as playing monster,” Sirius says.

James considers this, then laughs. “Whatever you say, Sirius.”

“Now come on,” Sirius says with sparkling, mischievous eyes. “Let’s play.”

James isn’t always there, but he often is, and Remus eventually stops being so nervous around him. James is just as nice as Sirius, and is always finding cool bugs to show Remus. Sometimes he finds the magical bugs that only wix are supposed to see, and Remus has to pretend he doesn’t know that those bugs are odd and different, because James and Sirius aren’t magic. Remus doesn’t want to get them in trouble.

Remus still keeps journals, but now he includes letters to James sometimes, too. The spring Remus turns fifteen, Sirius brings him something, too, a huge antler. “I’m the one who found it, but it’s from me and James too,” Sirius says, and doesn’t explain what that means.

Remus wonders if it has something to do with the stag that now comes for the full moons. It scared him the first time he saw it. Large and towering over him when he was locked into the house he uses for transformations. The stag ducked his head and let Remus pet it, and it laid down unafraid when his transformation came. The next morning, it left with Padfoot, though Remus must have blinked to see how it got out.

“Sirius?” Remus asks. “You know how you know Padfoot?”

“Yeah, what about him?” Sirius doesn’t look up from where he’s making mud bombs. 

“Does James know a stag?”

Sirius smiles at the mud on his hands. “Why’d you ask?”

“Well, Padfoot comes with me when I’m sick every month, and now there’s a stag,” Remus says. “Padfoot came with you, and I was wondering if James brought the stag.” 

“Yeah,” Sirius says. He looks up at Remus with a smile and a streak of mud on his cheek. “It’s Cernunnos.” 

Remus wrinkles his nose. “It’s sir nose? Is that like Rudolph?”

Sirius laughs so hard he falls back on his back, arms wrapped around his waist. Remus can’t help but laugh too. “What?”

“Not Sir Nose, though I’m definitely going to tell James,” Sirius says. He’s laying flat on his back, with his legs bent at the knees, and Remus gets distracted by the way his shirt rides up and reveals a strip of skin over his trousers. 

That’s a completely normal thing to get distracted by. He’s probably cold… in the summer. 

Remus is so busy thinking about how cold Sirius is that Sirius goes on talking and Remus doesn’t even notice until Sirius sits up and taps him on the nose. “Hello?”

Remus’s face feels really warm. He looks away. “Um. Are you—uh—race you!” Remus shouts, and then he leaps to his feet and goes running, trusting that Sirius is following behind. 

He always is.

Remus goes home and asks his papa about Cernunnos. Papa pulls a book off their shelf about Celtic religions and flips to a page that shows a man with messy hair and antlers. Remus stares at the image of a young man, shirtless and covered in tattoos, with wild black hair topped by a crown of antlers. There is something oddly familiar about him, though Remus can’t quite place it. It’s like the picture had been drawn by a person with the idea of him, but not the actual likeness. 

“Why are you asking about Cernunnos?” papa asks. 

Remus hesitates. He should just tell papa about what Sirius said, but there’s something about it that feels like he shouldn’t. Like papa wouldn’t be able to understand, and Remus would find it harder to believe if papa didn’t believe. Like a wish on birthday candles that could only be true if Remus didn’t tell. So he doesn’t. 

“I heard someone in the village mention it,” Remus lies. “I’d never heard the name before. Can you tell me about him?”

Papa lights up. “Of course, Remus.” He tells Remus about Cernunnos, the God of the Wild Hunt and Wild Beasts. A man, or a stag, or a bit of both in one, with the power to calm animalistic tendencies and who ruled over pristine nature and uncivilized ways. Master of the forest and lord of life and creation, and Remus couldn’t stop thinking that it all seemed very familiar. 

Remus gets his first job the summer he turns sixteen, part time at a bookstore. He likes it there, but he likes even better the way James and Sirius come to wait for him on the hot summer days. After work, sometimes they get cheap ice cream from the grocery on the corner to eat as they walk back to Remus’s house–it’s always Remus’s house; he’s never been to either of their houses, but he’s accepted it at this point. Remus watches Sirius (and sometimes James) lick the sticky residue from their fingers while pretending the flush on his cheeks is from the heat. 

They don’t play anymore. They go on adventures, exploring the forests behind Remus’s house. They’re explorers, discovering new lands that no one has ever seen before. They carry long sticks that are sometimes swords and sometimes walking sticks. 

They run and run through the forest. Remus lags behind because James and Sirius seem to be able to run through the roots and bramble like they’re on four legs while Remus is stumbling along behind. He doesn’t mind, though, because they get ahead and wait for him, offering him a hand and a let me help you and a smile. 

Remus feels a little breathless when Sirius smiles at him, but it’s probably just because they were running through the forest. 

They find the ruin of a castle in the middle of a clearing one day. Or perhaps it’s just a house that’s been abandoned, but it looks like a castle to Remus and Sirius and James, so they call it a castle. They climb to the tallest tower and down into the dungeons–which might just be the cobwebbed crawlspace under the house. They find ghosts and trolls and magic, and Remus wonders if this is what Hogwarts would be like if he’d been able to go. 

James grabs a page from Remus’s journal and they draw a map of their castle. Sirius adds them to it, right in the great hall where they’re laying on the floor to draw. 

“You can’t add us to it,” James says. “We’ll move around and the map won’t be accurate anymore!” 

“It’s a magic map, James!” Sirius scribbles their names beneath their pictures. “We’ll move around on the page and it will always show where we are.” 

The map is just ink on paper, but Remus could almost swear he can see their figures move across the page and leave little footprints behind. 

The full moon comes round again, as it does. As it inevitably, always does. Remus waits in the little house until Padfoot, now a large dog–so big his bulk covers Remus if he lays down and allows him to lay on top of him–and the stag join him. 

The Stag. Cernunnos. The God of the Wild Hunt. 

Remus thinks of a man with wild black hair that curls in a way not entirely dissimilar to the stag’s horns. 

Padfoot crawls in his lap, and Remus absently scritches behind his ears. “Cer- Cernunnos?” Remus asks. The stag waits, stock still, almost frozen. “Are you- are you Cernunnos?”

The stag stares at him for a moment, then seems to duck his head. It seems to be an affirmation, or at least Remus takes it as one. 

“I think you know my friend?” Remus says. He’s not sure, really, why he says it. Stags don’t speak. “James?”

The stag takes a step forward, ducking his head, and when Remus raises his hand, it presses its head into Remus’s palm. “Did he send you to me?”

The stag lifts its head again. It sticks its nose behind Remus’s ear and snuffles in his hair. Remus laughs, even though laughing hurts a bit this close to the moon. “Alright, well, tell him thank you for me. I’m really glad you’re here.”

Sometimes, Sirius comes to sit with Remus at the bookstore without James. They never provide an explanation for the days that James comes versus the days that he doesn’t, but Remus doesn’t ask. As much as he enjoys spending time with both of them, his favorite times are where Sirius comes by himself and follows Remus around the store or sits next to Remus at the front counter, just keeping him company as he works. 

“Do you remember the first day we played together?” Sirius asks. 

Remus can’t help but smile as he pulls off a price sticker to stick to the next book. “Yeah, of course.” 

“We played Library of Alexandria,” Sirius says. “And now you work in a bookstore.” 

“Unfortunately a bit of a let down after the Library of Alexandria,” Remus says. 

“Nah,” Sirius shrugs. “At least you can take books home from here. Alexandria was a bore.” 

Remus laughs, and Sirius huffs and crosses his arms over his chest–the effect, of course, ruined by the fond smile on his face. “I’m sorry, but the thought of actually visiting the most expansive library of all time and considering it a bore is just,” Remus shakes his head.”It’s insane, is what it is.” 

“Eh, it’s oversold a bit,” Sirius says. “Plus, there were no librarians there like you, so I prefer this little bookstore anyway.” 

Remus bites back a smile, and he’s sure that he is blushing. He keeps working, trying very hard not to read too much into Sirius’s words. 

It’s late in the fall that Remus is seventeen. It’s nearly Sirius’s birthday and time for Sirius and James to return to the hunt again. There’s something different about James that day. He’s on edge, jittery in a way that Remus hasn’t really seen him. They go on an adventure again, but James immediately takes the lead. 

“This way,” James says. 

Remus looks to Sirius, who just shrugs and follows James. Remus follows along behind. 

James leads them into the forest, down a seemingly random path, but he’s so certain in his steps that Remus thinks he must be following a map. They walk for a long time, without any of the side adventures they usually go on, getting distracted by brooks and bramble along the way. They walk for so long that Remus is on the verge of protest, but James suddenly stops. 

“Here,” he says, walking into a small clearing. 

Remus has never been here before; they’ve never come quite this far out. James walks into the clearing, and Remus makes to follow him, but Sirius stops him with a hand to his chest. Remus glances at Sirius, who just shakes his head, and they watch James walk out slowly as though intent on not being noticed. 

It’s not until he squats in the middle of the clearing that Remus notices the animal there. It’s a doe, only she is laying on her side. She’s injured; Remus can just see the spot on her neck, and he knows what that means. Remus’s heart tugs, but at least she has James with her now. 

He’s not sure why that matters, but it does. 

“Hush now, you beautiful girl,”James says. He pets her with a soft hand, cupping her face gently with the other. “It’s almost done.” 

The doe seems to calm at his touch, though she makes a small bleating noise. James tenses, as though he understands what that means, and resumes petting her. “I understand. I will take care of it. Rest, now.” 

There’s a peace that falls over the clearing, like every living being is holding its breath for a moment. Remus holds his breath too. The silence makes the doe’s breathing seem more harsh, more ragged. Each one takes effort, takes all that the doe has to give. The only other sound is James, as he murmurs softness into her ear. 

After one last shuddering breath, the doe stills. James bends to her, kissing her head softly. “You’ve done well, my little friend.”

A moment later, James stands, and just as quickly, he’s moving through the forest once more. He doesn’t go far now, just a few steps really, when he sinks into a squat again. Remus and Sirius follow him, stopping a short distance away. 

James stands again, this time, with a small fawn in his arms. As he stands, cradling the fawn lie a small baby, Remus sees him differently than he’s ever seen before. James is naked, tall and strong, broad muscled shoulders over a narrow waist. He’s older, suddenly, maybe just a few years or possibly he’s ageless. His body is covered with dark ink that depicts running herds of beasts and flying swarms of birds. His hair is long and wild, and a full beard that frames his face. On top of his head is an impressive rack of antlers that seem to match the pattern his unruly hair takes. He is glorious; he is powerful. 

Remus has a moment to catalog all the changes before he blinks and it’s just James again.  James, in a cloth jacket and jeans, holding a fawn to his chest, and his hair sticking up in a pattern so reminiscent of the horns that Remus can’t not see them. 

“Cernunnos,” Remus says, unable to hide the awe in his voice. 

Sirius smiles at him, eyes shining so brightly that they seem to be lit with starlight. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”

“Is he—“ Remus doesn’t even know what to ask. “You said the stag that comes with me when I am sick is Cernunnos.” 

“I did say that,” Sirius says. 

“Is James the stag that comes to me?” Remus asks. He regrets it as soon as he says it. It’s crazy. It’s insane. It’s simply not possible. 

“I wondered how long it would take for you to figure it out,” Sirius says. 

“Wait, I’m right?” Remus asks. He looks back at James in awe, who is standing near the edge of the clearing, still holding the fawn. James doesn’t look any different, not really, but somehow, everything is different. 

“You are,” Sirius says. 

Remus’s breath catches in his throat as he knows what he wants to ask next. It’s the obvious question. “Are you Padfoot?”

“I really like that name,” Sirius says. “I’ve wanted to tell you.” 

Remus’s mind is spinning. It seems impossible. It is impossible. “What are you?” Remus asks, but it takes a moment to realize that it’s probably a rude question. 

“I told you,” Sirius says with a small shrug. “I’m here for you.”

Another doe appears in front of James, with her nearly grown fawn standing near her. James stands still as she approaches him. She sniffs the fawn in James’s arms, snuffling behind his ears. After a moment, James sets the fawn down by her. 

The little fawn stands, stumbling slightly, and ambles its way over to the doe and begins suckling. James places his hand over his heart, and then rests his hand on top of the doe’s head. 

“Wow.” Remus almost doesn’t realize he said it until Sirius bumps his shoulder. 

“Pretty cool, right?” Sirius says, smiling. 

James walks back over to them. “Ready to get back to the adventure?”

Remus feels off-balanced, whiplashed from the reveal of James’s true identity. “Will the fawn be okay?” 

James’s face softens into something glowing and golden. “Yeah, he's going to be fine. He will grow up to be a gorgeous stag, and he will sire many fawns. He will grow a twenty four point rack the year that the hunt finds him.” 

“He's going to die?” Remus asks. He doesn't question the rest of it. It seems silly to question now, after everything he's seen. 

“Yes,” James says. “We all join the hunt in the end. Sometimes we're the hunter, and sometimes the hunted, but I make sure they're not alone when the time comes. Don't worry about him, though. His time ends quickly, and he does not fear it.” James claps his hands together. “Shall we go? I think the Dark Lord is about to attack the castle, and we should get back to defend it.”

Remus spends the next winter reading every book he can find about Cernunnos and the Celtic gods. He searches each page for a mention of Sirius, a glimpse of someone who might remind him of his friend. 

None of them seem right. 

Remus is eighteen the next time Sirius returns, and that changes everything. They can explore beyond the house and the forest, if they want. Remus has pocket money to spend. He waits for Sirius on the equinox, a plan already made up for where they’ll go.

“Moony!” Sirius calls, jogging toward him. 

Remus sees him, and his mind goes blank. Sirius is dressed in leather trousers with a white shirt that hangs off of one shoulder, giving Remus a view of dark ink tattoos and a well cut collarbone. Hanging off his fingers over one shoulder, Sirius carries a black leather jacket that looks like it was made for him. 

“Woah,” Remus says before he even realizes what he’s saying. 

Sirius smiles broadly, gesturing at his body. “Do you like it?” Sirius asks, giving a little spin. “I thought we could go for something new today.” 

“Yeah, it’s great—I mean, you look good. It. It looks good.” Remus chuckles, running his hand through his hair. “Hi.” 

Sirius laughs. “You look good, too.” 

Remus scuffs his shoe against the ground. “Thanks.” 

“What do you want to do today?” Sirius asks. 

“I’ve got an idea.” 

Remus had been to the pub once before, with his papa on the day of his eighteenth birthday. He’d had his first beer; papa had let him buy it so that he could prove he was old enough. They’d sipped it together, and honestly, Remus hadn’t liked the taste so much, but he liked the way he felt when he drank it. Like he was an adult; like he and his father were equals. 

Remus wants to share that feeling with Sirius. 

They take a seat at the table, and Remus orders the drinks with his new identification card, and he sets the beers in front of Sirius. Remus raises the glass. “Cheers, mate.” It feels weird to say it. He wants to take it back as soon as he does. 

Only, Sirius raises his glass too, with a smile like he’s thrilled by the new game they’ve found. “Cheers,” he says, and he takes a large gulp of his drink… 

…and nearly spews it all over the table. “This tastes like shit.” 

Remus laughs. He can’t help it, because Sirius is right. It does taste like shit. “I like it,” Remus says. 

Sirius slides his across the table, then looks back toward the bar. “Do you think they have wine here?”

Remus had found the record, dusty with a dented cover, in the back of the record shop’s sale bin and purchased it for a few pence. He plays it on repeat in the evenings that he lays in bed, and when he sees their name on a flier for a music festival, he knows he has to go. He turns to Sirius and asks if he’ll go too. 

They load up in Remus’s parents’ old car, stale-smelling and rambling, but sturdy enough to get them there. They park the car in a grassy lot and walk toward the sound stages. 

“Have you ever been to one of these before?” Sirius asks. 

“No,” Remus says. “Never really had the chance to. You?”

“No. I’ve seen them from a distance, but it’s so much different being on the ground,” Sirius says. 

Remus laughs. “On the ground? What, did you last see it from an aeroplane?”

Sirius laughs. “Come on, let’s go.” 

He grabs Remus’s hand and leads him through a crowd until they come to the front of a stage. It takes Remus off guard. It makes sense, of course, that they would hold hands to keep from leaving each other. But they haven't held hands like this in a very long time, not since they were little, and Remus doesn't remember it feeling good like this. 

They stop close to the stage, and Sirius lets his hand go. Remus isn’t sad about it at all. “Is this alright?” Sirius asks. 

“Yeah, great,” Remus says. He turns his attention to the stage, not sure what to do with his hands now that they're free. It felt better, linked with Sirius.

The band comes on stage, and Sirius whoops in glee. Remus finds himself torn, looking between the band on the stage, and Sirius beside him, his face aglow in the stage lights, beaming like a moonless night, all starshine and joy. After a while, the band seems to hardly exist. Remus has never seen anyone so vibrantly, unstoppably alive.

They dance and pretend to sing along with the bands they don’t know the words to. They jump with their arms over their heads when the crowd around them does it, and Remus is smiling so much that his cheeks hurt. 

They make nice with a pair of girls next to them, Pandora and her girlfriend Emmaline. They share water and snacks, and when the second to last band of the night comes on, they share their smoke, pressing it to Remus and Sirius’s lips and telling them between giggles to suck and blow. 

Remus’s head is soaring, resting up in the sky with all the stars. He’s holding Sirius’s hand again, and he’s tethered to the ground by that point alone. He’s never felt safer or more settled. He tells Sirius as much, and Sirius’s laughter is like a million points of light in the night sky. 

They decide not to drive home after the show, given the late hour and the way Remus is still floating in the clouds. Instead, they pull out the blankets and pillows that Remus’s mum stuffed away in the back and lay out on the folded down seats. Remus lays on his side, looking toward Sirius next to him, and he can’t stop smiling long enough to fall asleep. 

“Did you have fun?” Sirius asks, his voice quiet and almost reverent in the shadows. 

“So much,” Remus says. He reaches out and holds Sirius’s hand in the open space between them. Sirius doesn’t pull away. “Thank you for coming with me.” 

“I’ll always come,” he says. “I’m here for you.” 

It hurts more when Sirius has to go. Remus knows it’s coming by the way Sirius drags his feet, hunches his shoulders. It’s like his light dims as the fall approaches, and by the time the leaves are crunching underfoot, Sirius is quiet and thoughtful. Remus will catch him chewing his lip, looking up at the sky with a funny look on his face.

“Do you have to?” Remus asks softly. They’re in his bedroom, and he’s sitting on his bed while Sirius leans against the wall, hands in his pocket.

“Yeah,” Sirius says quietly. 

“For the hunt?”

Sirius nods, looking out the window. “The hunt.”

“I’ll miss you,” Remus says. 

“I’ll come back,” Sirius promises, and Remus knows that’s true, but also knows the winter months will be so much darker without Sirius by his side.

Remus goes to university that year, and in some ways it’s helpful. Being odd and unusual is more welcome at university. Instead of being Loopy Lupin, he’s just Remus, the boy who excels at composition and debate. He makes friends for the first time—well, friends who aren’t Sirius and James. A couple of witches, mainly, who went to Hogwarts and don’t seem to mind that Remus wasn’t there. There’s Marlene, who he meets in his Philosophy class, who can argue about economic systems for hours without ceasing but can never remember the difference between a verb and an adverb. Her girlfriend, Dorcas, a year above them and already so advanced into the Chemist track that Remus can hardly understand a world she says. And Lily, who Remus literally runs into at the university library and becomes instant friends with.

He spends most nights over at Lily’s flat. They study together, and Remus feels seen in a way he hasn’t—well, ever. It’s like Lily is some long lost piece of his soul come home to find him. 

“You’re gay, yeah?” Lily asks one night. It’s long past midnight, and Remus is looking up through the window at the brightest star in the sky, twinkling above them irresistibly. It feels like he knows that star.

Remus thinks of holding Sirius’s hand, of the way his breath skips when Sirius tosses his hair or moves just so. “Dunno,” he says, his cheeks heating.

Lily nudges him with her foot, pressing it against his leg. “Do you like girls?”

“Sort of?” Remus says.

“Do you like guys?”

Remus closes his eyes. “Yeah. One of them.”

Lily gasps. “Who! Is it Benjy from Psychology?”

Remus laughs, shakes his head. “No. You… you haven’t met him. But you will. He’ll be back in the spring.”

“Studying abroad?” Lily asks. She scoots closer, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

“Kind of. Um… he has to help his family in the winter. They go hunting.”

Lily cocks her head, all green eyes and interest. “All winter? That’s a long hunt.”

“Yeah. It’s long. I… I miss him a lot. We were friends growing up and he… I don’t know if he feels how I feel. I don’t know how I feel. He’s just… he’s special. Important.” Remus swallows hard. “He was my first friend.”

“You sap,” Lily says teasingly, but she kisses his cheek. “I can’t wait to meet your lover boy.”

“Please don’t call him that,” Remus says desperately.

“Right, right, your totally platonic friend,” Lily amends. She sets her book in Remus’s lap. “When will he be back?”

“The equinox,” Remus says, putting all of his hope into the words. “He always comes back for the equinox.”

Sirius comes back early.

Remus hardly notices the irregularity of it, because he’s sobbing on his bed, big, choked off gasps that threaten to plunge him into darkness. The church program, printed with Hope’s smiling face, rests crumpled in his hand, wet with tears and snot. 

It’s January, and his mum is gone.

A sickness that moved too fast for medicine, too fast for magic, too fast for Remus to go home and say goodbye. One day she was well and then—and then—

Remus doesn’t eat. He doesn’t sleep. He curls on his bed, huddled together, shivering, and sobs. “Sirius,” he cries, because he needs to tell Sirius, and maybe Sirius will bring her back. Maybe Sirius will bend reality, the way Padfoot could slip in and out of the shack without opening any doors.

Papa leaves the house empty. “I can't stay here without your mum,” he says. Remus knows that he's going in search of more fairytales to fill his book. Remus goes back to his flat. The house isn't really home without them in it. 

Time passes. The moon rises high in the sky. It will come for him, but his mother will not.

There’s footsteps coming up the hall. Probably Gideon, Remus’s roommate. 

Except his bedroom door opens, and when Remus opens his swollen eyes, Sirius is standing there.

“Remus,” Sirius whispers, and then goes down to his knees at the side of the bed, and opens his arms. Remus crawls to him and holds on, shivering, sobbing raggedly. There’s no end to his grief, a bottomless hole as dark as the space between the stars.

Remus cries until his body shuts off, not so much sleep as unconsciousness, and when he wakes he suspects Sirius will be gone ( like Mum is gone ) except Sirius is still there, stroking Remus’s hair.

Sirius looks down at him with an impossible to read face. “Mum died,” Remus whispers.

“I know,” Sirius says softly. 

“Can you… can…” Remus cuts off. This is an impossible ask but Sirius is an impossible friend.

Sirius shakes his head, just a twitch. “If I could, I would.”

“Can James?” Remus asks.

Sirius shakes his head again. “No. But… she wasn’t alone. At the end. And going is warmer than you’d think. That’s what I’ve been told.”

Remus buries his face in Sirius’s chest, and cries there like a fawn lost in the woods.

James comes that night. Sirius hasn’t left Remus’s side, has held and petted him while he shakes apart. James comes just before sunset, looking stressed and different. Wilder. This must be James of the hunt. Remus would make more note of it if he wasn’t heartbroken. 

“Your father sends for you,” James says from the doorway.

“No,” Sirius says.

“Sirius,” James says. 

“No,” Sirius says darkly. Remus has never heard that tone from him. “I won’t go. Send Regulus in my place.”

“Regulus isn’t as bright as you,” James says.

Sirius shrugs. “He’ll do. And he is brave. A lion is a better hunter than a dog, anyway.”

James runs one hand through his hair and nods. “I’ll tell him.” He pauses, his eyes running over Remus, softening. “I’m sorry, Remus.”

Remus can’t speak. He looks down at the ground. He wants to beg. There has to be a way. This can’t be it.

James comes closer, crouches down in front of Remus. His eyes are deep, entire forests and constellations there. “It did not hurt,” he promises, and then he’s gone.

Sirius stays and stays, and Remus is so afraid that he’ll leave again, because it’s not the equinox yet. But Sirius remains stubbornly by his side, and when Remus eventually finds the heart to go to classes again, Sirius carries his books, waits for him outside the classroom. People stare at Sirius when they walk through campus together, but Sirius only looks at Remus.

If Remus had the heart to look up, he would see a difference in the night sky, but he is barely making it through the day. He sleeps deeply at night. 

He doesn’t sleep alone, though; Gideon has the only other bed in the house, so Sirius bunks with Remus. Even through his grief, Remus finds a way to blush at that. Sirius sleeps in Remus’s boxers and uses Remus’s chest as a pillow, and sometimes Remus’s heart beats so hard, he’s sure it will rouse Sirius from his sleep. 

Remus falls asleep to Sirius’s soft breaths and wakes up to Siruis’s fingers tracing the soft skin of his stomach. Remus does his best to keep still and quiet so he doesn’t stop, but Sirius notices when his breath hitches as Sirius drags his nails down Remus’s navel to the edge of his pants. 

“Good morning, Moony,” Sirius says. “It’s your birthday.” 

Remus feels nauseous, torn at even the thought of being a year older without his mum here to see it. “I don’t want to celebrate it,” he says, turning his face into the pillow and away from Sirius’s piercing eyes. 

“I thought you might not,” Sirius says. “But I’ve never been here to celebrate with you before.” Sirius threads his fingers with Remus’s. 

“I don’t know how to celebrate without her,” Remus says. He clings desperately to Sirius’s hand. 

Sirius moves up, until his head is level with Remus’s, and he swipes away his tears with his thumb. “If you want to stay here, I’ll be here for you. But if you want to get out and be distracted for the day, we can do that, too.” 

Remus almost agrees, that a day out and a distraction would be nice, but the truth is that there’s nothing out there that Remus gives a shit about. He pulls his fingers out from between Sirius’s. Sirius’s hand rests on Remus’s hip, and Remus brings his hand up to stroke his thumb across Sirius’s cheek. 

Remus’s heart is thudding in his chest, and Sirius must be able to hear it, but he smiles and Remus goes on. “What if I want to stay in and I want you to distract me?”

Sirius tilts his head like Padfoot might, and when he smiles, it’s pure mischief with a spark of heat that makes Remus’s breath hitch. “A distraction?” Sirius asks softly. His thumb moves in little circles over Remus’s hip.

“Y-Yeah,” Remus says haltingly.

“Like singing you a song?” Sirius asks teasingly. He shifts down Remus’s body, and Remus can’t move, not with Sirius’s breath ghosting over his bare chest. “Or telling you a story?”

“Um, that’s not… um, not what I had in mind—oh!” Remus squeaks as Sirius noses at his naval. “That tickles.”

Sirius smiles up at him. He’s so close to Remus’s cock, which is not exactly soft at this moment, and Sirius must be able to feel it against his collarbone. “What did you have in mind?” Sirius asks.

“G-Guess,” Remus says weakly. He feels like he’s dreaming. Maybe he is. Maybe none of this is real and he’ll wake up alone in bed with no Sirius until the equinox, or maybe no Sirius ever, because Sirius has always been too good to be true.

But then Sirius dips his head and mouths at Remus’s cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, and Remus’s hips lift off the bed on their own accord, and it feels so much better than any wet dream ever has. Sirius hums happily, the same way he does when Remus offers him ice cream. 

Remus thinks he’s going to pass out.

“Have you done this before?” Sirius asks, then licks over the damp spot he’s left on Remus’s boxers.

“N-No,” Remus stutters. “Have you?”

Sirius looks up at him, his eyes stormy and intense. “Not like this,” he says simply, and Remus wants to know what that means but he can’t really speak because Sirius is pulling his boxers down and licking up his actual cock. There’s nothing between Remus’s cock and Sirius’s tongue. Remus can only stare at the sight of that, so good that it can’t possibly be true.

But then he’s in Sirius’s mouth, and that is somehow even better, wet and hot and silky soft, Sirius’s tongue working the underside while Remus moans and throws his head back against the pillow. His fingers clench in the fabric of the bedsheets. 

Sirius bobs his head, and Remus is awash in sensations, the plushness of Sirius’s lips as he nears the tip and sucks at Remus’s cockhead, Sirius’s fingers cupping his bollocks and rolling them in his palm, even the heat of Sirius’s sides against his bare thighs. It’s so intimate, doing this with Sirius, and he knows all at once he wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.

Sirius hums again, vibrations rolling against Remus’s cock and making him moan. He bucks his hips, and Sirius pulls off with a laugh, pressing down on his thighs. “You know, a very long time ago you promised me you were nice.”

“That d-doesn’t sound like me,” Remus manages, although he’s really just trying to get back in Sirius’s mouth.

Sirius pinches his thigh and Remus squeaks. Sirius arches an eyebrow. “You swore you were a nice elephant and a friend to owls. You recall?”

“I was five,” Remus whines desperately.

“ Nice boys don’t gag people who are giving them good distractions,” Sirius says. He bends his head and nips at Remus’s thigh. “Be nice.”

Remus groans. Sirius’s teeth and admonishment should not make his dick harder, should not make him want to roll around and show his belly. But Sirius smirks at him like he can read Remus’s mind, and then he lowers himself down and sucks Remus down to the root and it doesn’t matter what Remus should or should not feel. He’ll do absolutely anything Sirius tells him to.

Sirius sets a slow rhythm, working Remus up to the edge and then back down from it. He seems to sense when Remus is close, and he’ll pull off with an evil little chuckle and watch his own spit drying on Remus’s cock while Remus whines and squirms. Or he’ll offer little kitten licks over Remus’s cockhead, not enough to let him come, just enough to make him sweat. When Remus begs—because how could he not beg, Sirius’s name and a stream of pleas falling out of his mouth, Sirius just looks at him impassively. “Hush, Remus. I’m here for you,” he says, and leans down to lick Remus from root to tip.

Remus is sweating, whimpering, utterly undone by Sirius’s devotion. His cock has never been so hard. Every fumbled wank he’s ever had combined couldn’t compare to this. “Sirius, please,” he gasps when Sirius pulls off again. “Please, I—I need you.”

Sirius stills, something softening behind his eyes. “Alright,” he says, fingertips massaging the tight muscles of Remus’s thighs. “Alright. Let me give you what you need.”

Remus could come just from that, but Sirius wraps his fingers around Remus’s base, holding his orgasm at bay. Pleasure builds and builds, shooting up his spine, dancing behind his eyelids, making his breath come out hoarse and desperate, but it’s not until Sirius slips one slick finger into his arse, hooks it and presses against something Remus didn’t know existed that he comes, screaming Sirius’s name, arching up from the bed, lost to pleasure and forgetting, for a moment, that anything in life could possibly hurt.

When he comes back to himself—long minutes later, time lost in a starlight fog—Remus is on his back, coated in sweat, and Sirius is at his side. He’s stroking Remus’s chest, calming little motions, watching Remus avidly. Sirius looks at him like he’s never seen anything so fascinating, and despite everything, Remus blushes.

“How do you feel?” Sirius asks eagerly. He lifts one hand and brushes his thumb over Remus’s lower lip.

“Great. I mean. That… that was fantastic,” Remus says.

Sirius gives him a crinkle-eyed smile. “Good.”

“I should ask you for distractions more often,” Remus says. He laughs a little as he says it.

But Sirius looks solemn, and nods. “You should.”

Remus swallows. “Should I? Can I?”

Sirius rolls his hips forward, pressing his erection to Remus’s thigh. He’s hard—and big, fuck—and Remus instantly wants to touch him. Wants to do more than touch him. “You should, and you may,” Sirius says.

“Can I touch you?” Remus asks softly, one hand already creeping towards Sirius’s waist before he remembers to listen for an answer.

Sirius licks his lips. “Yes.”

Remus rolls toward Sirius until he’s laying on top of Sirius, who is on his back. Remus runs his fingers down Sirius’s bare chest, tracing the runes set into his skin. He takes his time, exploring the wide expanse of Sirius’s chest with his fingers and hands and occasionally with his tongue. He mentally catalogs the places that make Sirius react and saves the sounds that he makes to replay in his head over and over again. 

If this isn’t real, if he wakes up to Sirius gone, it will have been the best hallucination of his life. 

Remus finally makes it down to the space between Sirius’s thighs, his pants long since discarded, and takes Sirius in his hand. The weight of it is familiar, not all that much unlike having his hand on his own cock, yet it feels entirely different.

Sirius is thicker than he is, a substantial girth to him, and the velvety smooth skin feels far softer than Remus expected. Remus gives him a few preliminary strokes. 

Sirius watches him with parted lips the entire time. 

“I've not done this before either,” Remus says. 

“I assumed,” Sirius says, his voice husky. 

“Will you teach me what to do?”

Sirius props himself up on his elbows and leans down to cup Remus’s cheek. He looks at Remus like he’s a marvel, and Remus knows that’s all wrong, but he still revels in being the object of Sirius’s gaze. “Start with just a lick,” Sirius instructs.

Remus takes a breath and then licks over the head, tasting Sirius. He knows he’s supposed to wait to do more, to listen for Sirius’s cue, but he can’t really stop himself from taking Sirius’s cockhead into his mouth.

“Did I tell you to keep going?” Sirius asks, sounding bemused. Remus gives a muffled sorry around Sirius’s cock, and Sirius groans in pleasure. “What am I going to do with you?”

Remus pulls off just long enough to say—too brave, too honest, his heart on his sleeve—“Keep me.”

Sirius’s eyes darken, and he licks his lips. “If you wish. Now get back to work.”

Remus takes Sirius back into his mouth, but this time he waits patiently for Sirius’s instructions. “A little deeper. Now bob your head. Ah! Yes, suck, hollow your—yes, like that, good boy,” Sirius croons, and Remus feels his own cock twitching at the husky roughness in Sirius’s voice. His jaw aches around Sirius’s girth, but he can’t let that stop him. He can’t get to the bottom, but Sirius promises he’ll learn, and in the meantime Remus wraps his hand around Sirius’s base and bobs down to meet his fingers.

Sirius watches him the whole time, moaning, instructing, but never tearing his eyes off the sight of his cock disappearing between Remus’s lips.

“I’m going to come,” Sirius groans, fingers curling in Remus’s hair. “Come here, you won’t like the taste, come—“

Remus gives a whine of protest. He doesn’t care if he won’t like it. He needs to know what Sirius tastes like, and he needs Sirius in him. He can’t possibly stop now.

“Remus,” Sirius’s voice is breaking, his breath coming harder. “I’m going to—if you don’t—“

Sirius comes with a shout, bitter and salty in Remus’s mouth, but he doesn’t care, swallows him down and keeps going until Sirius shudders and pulls him off, practically lunging to get down to Remus and kiss him wildly. Sirius’s tongue slides inside his mouth, over his own tongue, seeking out the taste of himself. 

When Sirius pulls off, Remus is panting and Sirius is wild eyed, fevered. Remus looks up at him almost bashfully. “Alright for a first time?” He asks.

Sirius grins. “Suppose so. You’ll have to practice a lot. Refine your technique.”

“With you?” Remus asks hopefully. 

A streak of something crosses Sirius’s face, and his fingers curl tighter where they’re holding Remus’s wrist. If Remus didn’t know better, he’d call it jealousy. “Yes,” he says. “With me specifically.”

“Brilliant,” Remus says. 

“Yeah,” Sirius says, and bends down to kiss him again.

They practice a lot. Remus goes to class, mostly at Sirius’s insistence, then comes home and practices until he's memorized every line of Sirius’s body. Then, they practice some more. 

It doesn't occur to Remus that he might be worrying his friends until the morning that Marlene, Dorcas, and Lily show up at noon on a Saturday. Gideon must let them in because they walk in his bedroom right as Sirius finds that spot that makes Remus’s eyes cross, and Remus doesn't even have the ability to warn them before he jerks up and comes down Sirius’s throat. 

“Oh,” Lily says, the other two unable to say anything, mouths agape. “Perhaps we'll just wait out here.” She closes the door behind them.

Sirius seems unbothered, glancing over his shoulder even as he swallows and licks his lips. Remus buries his face in his hands, groaning. “Friends of yours?” Sirius asks. 

“I'm so sorry. I don't know why they did that,” Remus says. He scrambles off the bed, grabbing a tshirt and a pair of pants. “I'm going to go talk to them. You can get cleaned up if you want. You absolutely do not have to meet them.” Remus pauses, his hand on the door handle. “Except, I know they're going to want to meet you. I can probably put them off–” 

“I can meet your friends, Remus,” Sirius says. “I would like to.” 

“Right, okay,” Remus bites back a smile. “Take as long as you want. I’ll keep them busy.” He closes the door behind him softly, then just stands there, knob still in his hand, and grins stupidly. He should be more embarrassed than he is, but nothing else matters except Sirius.

He pads softly into the living room, ducking his head slightly as he comes in, but nothing dims his smile. As soon as he clears the doorway, his three friends are clapping. 

“Bravo, Remus,” Lily says, turning on the couch to face him. “That was not even on the list of what I expected to see today, but well done.” 

“Excellent showing. Encore. Do we get to stick around for the repeat performance? I hope Act 2 dives a little deeper,” Marlene says.

“I give it a six out of ten,” Dorcas says. Marlene and Lily protest. Dorcas shrugs. “You’re the only man I’ve ever seen orgasm. In my opinion, it would have improved if you had a vagina.” 

“I’ll work on that,” Remus says with a laugh. “Obviously, I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“We did text you that we were coming,” Lily says. “Though I understand why you haven’t checked your phone today.” 

Remus blushes. “I, um. I left it in the bedroom. I hadn’t looked.” 

“Would be rude to text us back with your dick in his mouth,” Dorcas says. 

“What are you doing here?” Remus asks. 

“We came to check on you,” Lily says, her voice going soft. “It’s been a few weeks since any of us have really seen you, except in passing. We were worried you were holed up and wallowing.” 

“Oh,” Remus says. His gut twists at the thought that his friends worried about him over this. He also feels a bit nauseous over the fact that he hasn’t really thought about his mum. He sinks into the chair next to them, clasping his hands in his lap. “I mean, I was, but then Sirius came–” 

Marlene laughs. “And so did you!” 

Remus turns his head away, trying not to laugh. “Stop it!”

“Don’t lie,” Lily says. “We saw you. Literally.” 

“I mean,” Remus’s cheeks heat up. He wasn’t sure it was possible to blush more. “It is a very good distraction.” The three of them giggle so loud that Remus considers casting a silencing charm to keep Sirius from hearing. 

“I knew it,” Lily says. “It’s hard to feel sad with a dick in you.” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Dorcas says, pulling Marlene back against her. 

“Well, since you're not wallowing in your bed,” Marlene says. “Then you have to come to our party next weekend. You can bring your boyfriend.” 

“Marls, he's not–” 

“Party?” Sirius says. “I want to go to a party.” 

Remus turns to see Sirius walk in the room, and his jaw drops when he realizes that Sirius doesn't have a stitch of clothing on. There’s not a drop of shame in his whole body–not that he should. Remus often wonders if he was in fact carved from marble and given life (which, really, is a possibility). 

Lily kicks Remus, and when he looks at her, she mouths oh my god! excitedly. He blushes. 

At her side, Marlene holds her hands apart, glancing between her palms and Sirius to make sure she’s got the correct length. Huge, she mouths with a grin.

“Sirius, pants,” Remus says weakly.

Sirius looks down at himself and shrugs. He disappears and comes back a moment later wearing Remus’s boxers, and then he plops down on Remus’s lap. “Hullo. I’m Sirius.”

“I bet you are,” Lily says.

Dorcas elbows her. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dorcas. This is Marlene, and this is Lily.”

Remus wraps an arm around Sirius’s waist. There’s that flash on his face again, something like jealousy, but that’s impossible. There’s no way Sirius could be jealous over Remus. Remus is… Remus. Sirius is a god. Or something close to one.

“Party?” Sirius asks, running his fingers through Remus’s hair.

“Yeah, you should come. And, you know, bring any fabulously attractive friends you may have,” Marlene says.

Sirius grins. He looks to Remus. “I’ll be bringing you to a party.”

“She said attractive,” Remus says, blushing. Sirius tugs his hair disapprovingly. “Bring James or something.”

Sirius looks thoughtful. “Perhaps.”

“Who is James?” Lily asks.

“Does he look like you?” Marlene asks.

“I’m right here,” Dorcas says with a scowl.

“Baby, you’re my one and only. I’m just looking out for poor Lily,” Marlene says. She glances at Sirius. “We’re trying to get Lily laid.”

“Marlene!” Lily hisses, elbowing her.

“All she does is study,” Marlene continues, unabashed. “It’s pitiful. So if you know anybody good in bed—“

Sirius laughs, throwing his head back, throaty and deep. Remus can’t look away from the column of his throat. “I’ll bring James,” Sirius says with a wink. 

“Great! Next Saturday,” Dorcas says. “You too, Remus. We haven’t seen you in ages.”

“My apologies. I’ve been keeping him busy,” Sirius says.

“I’ll bet you have,” Marlene says.

“Okay, you can go now!” Remus rushes out. 

Lily stands, pulling Marlene behind her. “Alright, we’ll go. But come to the party or we’ll be barging our way in again.” 

“It was lovely to meet all of you,” Sirius says. 

“I’d say the pleasure was ours,” Marlene says, “but I think it was Remus’s.” The girls cackle with laughter again.

“Alright, you three are worse than a group of pecking hens,” Remus says. He slides Sirius off of his lap to stand up, kissing him first on the cheek. “Out, now.” He chases them to the door, subject to their whispered taunts as he shuffles them out and closes it. 

Remus turns back to find Sirius still sitting in the chair Remus left him in, watching him blankly. Remus crosses the room in large steps and sinks to his knees at Sirius’s feet, resting his head on Sirius’s lap. “I’m sorry about all of that.” 

“I like your friends,” Sirius says, but there’s something twisted in his voice. He brushes his fingers through Remus’s hair. “They seem to like you a lot too.” 

“They’re great,” Remus says. “I–well, I’ve never really had friends, besides you and James, and I really like them.” 

“I’m really glad,” Sirius says. His voice sounds sad. “I didn’t like you being lonely.” 

“I’m not lonely with you around,” Remus says. 

“I know,” Sirius replies. “And now, you have them too.” 

Remus looks up at him with a frown. “You know I didn’t replace you, right? You know that.”

Sirius thumbs Remus’s lower lip. “I know that.”

“You just seem… unhappy. Is it them?” Remus asks.

Sirius shakes his head. He smiles, and it almost reaches his eyes. “I just like being with you. That’s all.”

“Are you going to stay? It’s almost the equinox, I mean, when you’d normally come. Maybe you could just stay and not go back for this hunt?” Remus asks hopefully.

There it is, the sadness in Sirius’s eyes. He leans forward and kisses Remus. “If that’s what you wish.”

James arrives the day of the party. Remus almost doesn’t recognize him for a moment, because his friend James is wild and kind and fun, and this James is exuding a kind of fuck-me energy that takes Remus’s breath away. He leans back against Sirius, staring as James walks across the small park in the heart of the university. The men and women near them all track James, his smoldering eyes and wry smile. 

“Show off,” Sirius says as James comes near.

James shrugs. His nails are painted a deep black, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to see a tattooed set of antlers spreading along his collarbones. He looks at Remus, who gets half-hard on instinct. “Good to see you, Remus.”

“Hi James,” Remus says shakily.

“You two finally figure yourselves out?” James asks, glancing at Sirius’s hand on Remus’s hip.

“Bugger off,” Sirius says.

“Yes,” Remus says.

James smirks. Remus’s knees wobble. “Good to hear,” he says. Then some of the mirth leaves his face. He looks to Sirius. “Your father asked me to pass along a message.”

Sirius stiffens, pulling Remus a little closer. “I know what’s required,” he says.

“Your father?” Remus asks. “You have a father? Is it… Zeus?”

Despite the tense moment, Sirius barks out a laugh, and James snickers down at his feet. 

“It could be Zeus!” Remus protests.

“My father is not Zeus. That would make me Apollo, and I’m not a good archer,” Sirius says.

“Or Dionysus,” James adds. He tilts his head. “You’d make an alright god of the vine.”

“Or Ares,” Remus adds, because he doesn’t know what Sirius and James are talking about half the time, but he at least knows mythology, given how often he heard his papa tell the stories.

“Ares is a cunt,” Sirius says. He kisses Remus’s cheek. “My father’s name is Orion.”

“And Orion is furious you missed the end of the hunt,” James adds.

Sirius lets out a long breath and then shrugs. “He’ll cope. We have a party to go to.”

James laughs. High above them, Remus swears he hears a falcon calling. “Right. Lead on then, Canis.”

Remus blinks. “What’d you call him?”

James winks. The effect is breathtaking. “An old nickname. Let’s go.”

Remus can hear the music blasting from three buildings down. By the time they get to Lily’s flat, the ground is practically vibrating with it, although maybe it’s just the moon making him sensitive. Still, he’s grateful to have Sirius’s hand on his back, keeping him steady as they climb the stairs to Lily’s door.

Inside, it’s a riot of voices and faces. They’ve cleared the front room for dancing, and Marlene and Dorcas are leading the charge. Benjy from Philosophy is already tonguing Lily’s neighbor Arthur so thoroughly that Remus thinks it’s a wonder neither of them choke. 

Lily is pouring drinks, and when she sees Remus she gives a cry of pleasure, throwing her arms around his neck. “You came! Mar! Dorcas! He came!” Lily shouts to be heard over the music, gesturing wildly. They turn and wave, and Lily beams, and then she rests her eyes on James.

Remus thinks he can actually see the moment her rational thinking goes out the window. Lily’s face goes slack, mouth open, and she drags her eyes down and then back up James’s body. Remus can’t really blame her. James dressed up tonight, looking somehow entirely different from the boy that Remus played with or the wild man that came to him after… Regardless, if Remus wasn’t so entirely in love with Sirius, he might find himself agape at James too. 

That’s what he is, he’s realized. In love with Sirius. He hasn’t told Sirius yet, of course, but he is so hopelessly endlessly in love that he doesn’t know how to handle it. 

James closes the distance between himself and Lily, until she has to look up to see his face. “You must be Lily,” he says. “I hear you’ve been very busy studying.” 

Lily visibly swallows, licking her lips. “I have, but I’m not busy tonight.” 

The smile that breaks over James’s face is radiant, like a bit of celestial light shines through him. “Good. I’m not busy either, but I’d like to be. You can call me James.” He holds his hand between them. 

“I’m Lily,” she says. Instead of taking his hand, she reaches up and cups his face with her hands, and pulls him into a kiss. A round of whoops go up around them. 

Remus leans toward Sirius. “I don’t think you understand how weird it is to see that. Lily would never.”  

Sirius rests his hand on Remus’s lower back, leaning in until his lips brush Remus’s ear. “You’d be surprised by how often it happens to James.” 

Remus laughs, turning into face Sirius and capturing his lips in a kiss. “I’ve never had the urge.” 

“To randomly kiss someone?” Sirius asks, still so close to Remus that his breath warms Remus’s lips.

“To randomly kiss James,” Remus replies. “I definitely get the feeling of desperately wanting to kiss someone.”

Sirius’s eyes cloud for a moment, and he looks around. “Someone here?” 

“Yeah,” Remus says, turning Sirius’s head back toward him. “You.” He kisses Sirius’s smile until they’re both breathless. 

“Come with me,” Sirius says. “Let’s dance.”

Remus lets Sirius lead him by hand out into the middle of the living room, where some people have started dancing. Sirius turns Remus to him, pulling Remus flush against him by his belt loops. 

It’s on the tip of Remus’s tongue to tell Sirius that he doesn’t dance, but the moment Sirius begins to move, the words disappear. All that exists is Sirius and his hips and how much Remus loves him. 

Sirius keeps his hands on Remus’s waist, and he’s not sure if he’s dancing well or if Sirius is dragging him along, or if maybe there’s a magic that keeps them together. Regardless, Remus lets himself sink into the moment and just exist there with Sirius. 

They dance for a while, pressed together like no one else exists. Maybe no one else does exist. There’s something about Sirius that always draws him in; something that takes Remus’s breath away if he looks at him too long. 

Sirius’s hands wander as they dance, and Remus should be embarrassed by the way he pushes up Remus’s shirt, but all he can think about is the way Sirius is so desperate to touch his skin that he does it. No one has ever looked at Remus the way Sirius does, and Remus suddenly has an urge to get him alone.

Remus sucks Sirius’s lip between his teeth before stepping back. “Can we go?”

Sirius pulls back, looking right at him. “Do you want to? We’re here with all your friends.” 

Remus shrugs. “I don’t care about any of them. I just want to go home with you.” 

“Well, I’m here for you. Let’s go.” 

They stop in the kitchen to find Lily and James again. Lily sits on the counter, wearing James’s shirt as he stands between her legs, and Remus laughs. Lily turns to face him when she hears it, with James’s lips sliding down her neck. “Remus!” she says, and it’s not until then that James sees them too. 

“That was fast,” Sirius says.

“Appetizers often are,” James says. One hand tenderly tilts Lily’s head back so James can suck a love mark over her pulse point. Lily makes a noise that Remus can hardly hear over the music, her thighs tightening on James’s sides.

“We’re going back to Remus’s,” Sirius says, flicking James on the ear. “You’ll find your way?”

“I’m staying here tonight,” James says. His hands slide down Lily’s back until he’s cupping her arse. “The things I want to do to you will take me till the sunrise.”

“Fabulous,” Lily breathes.

James smiles at her. He looks over at Remus. “Your friend has the spirit of the great goddess to her,” he says. 

“Who?” Remus asks.

“It’s a long story,” Sirius says. 

“And spectacular breasts,” James says, turning back to Lily. “Utterly spectacular.”

“You said,” Lily says, but her cheeks still burn as red as her hair.

“Thanks for the party, Lily!” Remus calls, and grabs Sirius’s hand, pulling him away before they can watch James take Lily to pieces. Not that he’s opposed to watching, necessary. He just has his own goals first.

It seems like Sirius has the same goals, because he kisses Remus as they walk home, and by the time they get to Remus’s front door, Sirius has his thigh wedged between Remus’s thighs and is grinding against him while Remus whines into his mouth. Remus unlocks the door with shaky fingers and then Sirius takes them through, closing it with a slam.

“I want you,” Sirius breathes, eyes wild and bright. “Tell me I can have you.”

“You can have me,” Remus gasps. “Please?”

Sirius hefts Remus up carelessly, and Remus gives a little moan at the show of strength as Sirius carries him to the bedroom. He wraps his arms around Sirius’s neck and makes the task harder by kissing every part of Sirius’s face that he could reach. 

Sirius laughs. “Baby, you’re not helping.” 

Remus breath punches out of him. “Call me baby again?”

“You like that, baby?” 

“Yes,” Remus says. “A lot, yes.” 

Sirius lays him back gently on the bed. “Then I’ll keep calling you that.” He kisses Remus again, soft and sweet. “I’ll do anything you want, baby.”

“Will you—could you—um, will you fuck me?” Remus asks, and feels his own face heat as he says it. They’ve done a lot in this bed, but not that, not yet, and Remus is dying to know how it feels.

Sirius groans, dropping his head to Remus’s chest. He uses one hand to adjust himself in his pants. “You’re going to kill me.”

“You don’t have to,” Remus says.

“No, no, don’t take it back,” Sirius says. He lifts his head and looks at Remus with fevered eyes. “Say I can. Please.”

“You can,” Remus says, licking his lips.

“Say you want me to,” Sirius goes on. He’s leaning over Remus’s body, propped up on his arms, another casual show of strength. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Remus says. It might just be the truest thing he’s ever said.

“I want that too,” Sirius says. 

They kiss again while their hands fumble with buttons and zippers, and they wind up naked with Sirius between Remus’s legs. He reaches his hand down, skipping past his cock and grazing across his balls until he’s brushing Remus’s puckered hole with the pad of his finger. 

A whispered word like magic leaves Remus tingling and slick with lube. Sirius presses a finger inside of him while he kisses Remus’s neck and face. Remus clings to him, gripping his arms tightly, holding on like he might float away into the sky and live among the stars for how Sirius touches him. He doesn’t try to hide the noises he makes–he’s never had to hide with Sirius. 

“You’re beautiful, baby,” Sirius kisses the corner of his lips, the near kiss somehow more intimate for it. He strokes Remus with two fingers, leaving him whimpering at the feel of it. “You’re so beautiful that it outshines any light I could provide.” 

Remus laughs, or attempts to, but Sirius brushes over that spot, and it comes out far more desperate than a laugh. “M’not. Nothing next to you.” 

Sirius shakes his head, and nuzzles into Remus’s cheek as he pushes a second finger inside of him. “Remus, you’re more beautiful than all of the stars in the sky. I’d trade whole galaxies if I could look at you for just a little longer. I’d give them all up to keep you forever.” 

“You don’t have to give up anything,” Remus says. “I’m already yours.” 

Sirius lifts his head, and there’s something in his eyes, like a mix of hesitation and adoration. Remus doesn’t know what it means, but it’s gone a moment later and Sirius is kissing him again. 

Sirius waits until Remus is desperate and writhing, three fingers full but not enough when he knows that he’ll be so much fuller in a moment. He pulls Remus’s legs around his waist, cockhead pressed to Remus’s hole, and he waits, poised to enter him. 

Remus’s eyes flutter open, finding Sirius’s face hovering over his and shining with so much love that it’s almost blinding. Remus can’t look away, eyes locked on Sirius’s, as Sirius pushes inside of him. “I’ve always been yours, baby,” Sirius says, right as he slips past the tight ring. “I’m here for you.” 

Remus is so full–of him, of love, of the absolute perfection of this moment with Sirius. They move together, like dancing, with Sirius leading him or maybe dragging him along, but Remus doesn’t mind. He pulls Sirius down so they’re kissing, delicious, messy kisses that leave them both breathless. 

Remus knows he won’t last long, not with the way it feels to finally have Sirius like this. He opens his mouth to tell him, but Sirius wraps a hand around Remus’s cock and shushes him. “Don’t speak, baby. I’m here for you. Just let go.” 

Remus gives himself over to memorizing every second of this–the stretch of Sirius in his arse, the snug fit of his hand around Remus’s cock, the tight clench of muscles in Sirius’s arse as he moves inside of Remus, the way Remus spills over his hand and coats his chest when Sirius finally pushes him over the edge. 

The pattern of Sirus’s thrusts stutters as he spills his release inside of Remus, and it’s delicious. Everything that Remus has ever hoped it would be and so much more because this is Sirius, and he is everything. 

Sirius collapses on top of him, shaky arms giving out now that they’re done, and Remus wraps himself around Sirius, arms and legs, wanting to hold him as much as possible. Sirius nuzzles under his jaw, tasting his skin, and Remus wonders if he can taste how much Remus loves him. 

“Was it alright?” Sirius asks, and Remus can’t help but laugh. A desperate, delirious sound. 

“It was perfect,” Remus says, pulling Sirius’s face up until he’s close enough to kiss. “You are perfect.” 

Months pass easily with Sirius that summer. The pain of his mother’s loss doesn’t get easier—he’s not sure that it ever will, but he’s able to distract himself so thoroughly with Sirius that sometimes he goes hours without thinking of her. Once a whole day, though he cried into Sirius’s arms the next, worried that he was going to forget her entirely. 

“You won’t forget her,” Sirius assures him, fingers carding through Remus’s hair. “You’ll never forget her, and I’ll help you remember.” 

They spend time with James and Lily, with Marlene and Dorcas, with Benjy and Arthur and Gideon, and Remus has never had so many people to call his. It’s so wonderful. He’s never been so happy. His life has never been so full.

November is a looming deadline. He had Sirius for longer this year than he ever has before—since January—but giving him up now seems harder than ever before. He can tell that Sirius is struggling too, in the frantic way that Sirius clings to him after they’re both sated and sweaty. 

He catches Sirius and James having a furious, whispered discussion, which Remus doesn’t catch much of, but hears things like the hunt and your father said, and Remus knows that the strain on Sirius’s gorgeous face is because of him. Yet, he wants to be desperate and beg him to stay. 

Neither of them bring it up until the end of October. 

It’s Halloween, and Remus knows that means that Sirius is leaving. They lay in bed, naked and legs tangled together under the sheets. The conversation they need to have is heavy in the air. 

“You're leaving,” Remus finally says. He doesn't look at Sirius when he says it, just traces his tattoos with the tips of his fingers. 

“I'm supposed to,” Sirius says. “I don't want to leave you.” 

Remus swallows hard. “I don't want you to go either, but it's just a few months. I'll see you after the hunt.”

Sirius shakes his head. “Not this time.” 

Remus’s heart is pounding in his chest, his mind spinning and trying to find some other meaning to the words on Sirius’s lips. “What do you mean?” he finally asks. 

“I'm here for you, but you don't need me anymore,” Sirius says. 

“That's not true; I do need you.” 

“You're not lonely anymore,” Sirius says. “Your wish came true, and I can't stay without a wish.” 

“What? What wish?” Remus asks. It feels like they're not even discussing the same thing any longer.

“You wished on me, don't you remember?” Sirius lifts a hand to his face, tracing his freckles with his thumb. “Star light, star bright, the brightest star blah blah blah. Do you remember your wish? ‘Dear Mr. Star. I'm so very lonely. Could you send me a friend who can play with me? Someone who will be safe from my monster. Please. Oh, and Thank you.’ You were so polite.” 

Remus should’ve known, but it still makes his heart skip a beat. “That-that was you?”

“The brightest star in the sky,” Sirius says. He laughs sadly at the look on Remus’s face. “I thought you knew.” 

Remus shakes his head. “So what does this mean?”

“You're not lonely anymore, Remus,” Sirius says. “You've got so many friends. Your wish is fulfilled, and I have to go home.” 

“I don't want you to go,” Remus says. “Please stay.” 

Sirius hesitates, just a moment. Remus almost breaks in that moment. “There's one way,” Sirius says. “It's up to you.”

“Anything,” Remus says instantly. “I'll do anything.” 

“You have to wish for me to stay,” Sirius says. He's clinging to Remus’s arms now, like he might return to the sky if he doesn't stay grounded. “If you make a wish, I can grant it.”

“That's it?” Remus says with a laugh. “That's easy.” 

“It's not,” Sirius says. “You have to really mean it, or it won't work. You have to do it right, or I go back and I can never return. Please, Remus.” 

For almost his whole life, Sirius has been there when Remus needed him, appeared in the dark to carry his pain and grant his wishes. And now Remus gets to give it back, gets to be the reason Sirius gets what he wants. It feels like an honor. It feels like love.

Remus nods, solemnly. He licks his lips bringing to mind the words his mother taught him. “Star light, star bright, the brightest star I've seen in my life. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight.” Remus exhales slowly. “Please, Sirius. I am lost without you. Stay here with me, forever.” He pauses, and then for good measure, adds, “Please and Thank you.” 

Sirius laughs, and it's like a thousand tiny sunbursts. It fills Remus with so much light and happiness that he cannot keep a smile back. 

Sirius leans in to kiss him, hands coming up to clutch his face. “Okay. I'll stay forever.” 

~~~

Have you heard the story of the brightest star going out? Some say he was cast out. Others say he fell. Codswallop, in my opinion. The brightest star in the sky granted a wish for the saddest little boy on earth, and their lives were forever altered. 

If you had asked the star, all those long years later, if the sad little boy was worth giving up the firmament for, he would’ve laughed. He would’ve wrapped strong arms around a not-at-all-sad man, a man with laugh lines and kind eyes, and the star would’ve winked at you, grey eyes twinkling like starlight. “I’m here for him,” the star would’ve said, and shone much brighter there with his lover than he ever managed to in the night sky.