This Literally Made My Day! :))

This is his home and I’m just a vacation.

.

.

this line broke me-

(my sis is literally singing 'hold back the river' as if it isnt completely out of my control already)

Fault Lines pt. 2

Fault Lines pt 1 here

In which Remus and Sirius are divorced and doing their best while also raising Harry.

(about 3k)

--

July 1987

Remus stayed behind to help clean up after the birthday party, their newly seven-year-old slowly losing steam minute by minute and heading for a sugar crash, judging by the quieting sounds from the sitting room.

“You were better with the mess this year…” Remus commented absently, putting paper plates into a large trash bag as Sirius stored the leftovers, magic moving around him to wipe off the counters.

“I’ve been…working on it.” Sirius replied, smiling a little over his shoulder, “But, in all fairness, seven-year-olds are better at mess control than six-year-olds…and this year the theme wasn’t Sandcastles.” Remus couldn’t help but smile back, thinking about Harry’s birthday last year. The first birthday after separating where they both tried to compensate and acquiesced to every ask their six-year-old had, including turning the backyard of Number 12 into a makeshift beach. Remus had stayed to help clean last year as well, watching as Sirius cleaned the floor free of sandy shoe prints three separate times. He also watched the whole party as Sirius made a mental list of the sticky doorknobs, spills in the kitchen, his smile never faltering and his voice never changing. As if nothing was bothering him in the slightest. Sirius always knew how to put on a good show, even when their relationship was pulling apart at the seams, and Remus’ would have to fight down tears in public spaces. Sirius could hold it together. Sirius could smile and say thank you, expert at lying between his teeth.

Part of Remus always circled back to wondering if that’s what started the rip in the first place. But the other part knew that there was no longer time for pointing fingers and it just was now.

“Still going to wash the floors tomorrow?”

“Shite, I'm washing them tonight after Harry goes to bed."

Remus laughed softly, the last of the used paper cups going into the trash bag as well. Sirius let out a contented sigh, eyes scanning the kitchen with a look that clearly said this will have to do, before extending a piece of cake in Remus’s direction.

“I already had some,” Remus told him, shaking his head.

“The tiniest slice. Even though I told you there was plenty. You deserve a proper one.” Remus accepted the slice, still unsure of when he should excuse himself to leave, thinking there should really be a book on this sort of thing. He noticed Sirius had his own piece in his hand as he jumped to sit on top of the counter, finally relaxing for the first time all day. Sirius was always the last to eat. Sirius always made sure everyone else got some before he did and on party days, focused more on Harry having a good time than remembering to eat himself. “Cheers, Moony."

“Cheers.”

Filling the gaps hadn’t gotten easier. Neither had dropping Harry off after the weekend, or leaving Number 12 on the rare occasions he had stayed for dinner, though he had found the courage to stay a few times now. It seemed unfair that Remus had to choose between loving his apartment and the way it felt to not be tiptoeing around arguments and his family. Though, if you asked Sirius, and Remus had, he felt it was unfair Remus got to be the one who left. Sirius felt it unfair he had to be the one who sat with the memories because his house was the one Harry felt comfortable in. Another show. Make sure someone else is comfortable before addressing what you need.

Remus sometimes wondered if his own selfishness was what caused Sirius to start pulling at the existing rip in the first place.

Did I push you away?

Did you ever love me or did you just want to make me happy?

Usually, Sirius was the one who took the step to make the palatable silence between them feel less awkward; less jarring. Remus noticed that in addition to not minding mess nearly as much, Sirius had also stopped doing that. Sirius had stopped doing a lot of things for Remus when he realized he didn't have to anymore.

Some days Remus missed it. He had admittedly grown accustomed to a life with someone who catered to him. Not just financially. But Remus missed coming home from work to dishes that were already done, waking up to a kid who was already dressed for the day, to favorite desserts and thoughtful notes left on bathroom mirrors. He missed having someone who always corrected baristas when they got his order wrong. Remus had drunk a lot of incorrect coffee since being separated.

Did I ever say thank you? How many times did I roll my eyes instead?

“It’s…the sun is going down.” Remus tried, around a mouthful of chocolate cake, wincing as he heard the sentence leave his mouth.

“It happens every day,” Sirius replied, raising an eyebrow in amusement, “You know…we used to be good at talking to one another. We used to be friends.”

“Yeah, how’d we do that?”

“I…think we would just…think things and then say them out loud.”

“Okay.”

“So...how are you?”

“You know…still pretty lousy most days actually, but today was good.” Remus finished, already bracing himself for Sirius to return with an answer that would add insult to injury. Already bracing for I’m just fine; I’m enjoying being single again; We get on swimmingly without you.

“Me too.”

--

June 1988

“I don’t understand why you’re still insisting you play by their stupid rules, Remus! He’s your kid just as much as he is mine. I know it, you know it, they’re just--”

“Because I can’t afford to break the rules, Sirius! How is that going to look?”

“If you do I’ll just--”

“And I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. This isn’t something your piles of money and last name can just--”

“It is actually. You’re so fucking stubborn…”

“And you’re not?”

“Just…” Sirius made a small noise of frustration in the back of his throat as he continued packing a trunk for Harry for the month. Their kid was spending the afternoon with Andromeda, giving the two of them time to work out any particulars and argue without the fear of their almost eight-year-old overhearing. Aside from losing his best friend in the divorce and the hangovers he endured coping with the fall-out when Harry was with Remus for the weekend, trying not to argue in front of Harry had been the hardest part. Sirius was always so proud at Hogwarts and the years following that he and Remus rarely argued. They rarely fought.

Love is the easiest thing in the world. He had said. And maybe somewhere Sirius still believed that because he didn’t love Remus any less now that he had an apartment across town and a whole life that Sirius didn’t get a play-by-play of. Love could be easy. Relationships weren’t though, and it was more common now that they would meet up while Harry was at school to calmly argue at coffee shops. Public places to settle disagreements, where they both had to keep their heads, never wanting to cause a scene, and not wanting to move backward. Because the first months had been full of name-calling and shouting matches that left both of the high and dry and bleeding out. Remus waved the white flag first.

“It’s been over two years at this point. You have a job and a flat and a car that I’m sure you drive very cautiously in. You've taken him to Healer check-ups, you've been on time to meetings... Just let me appeal--”

“It is not your job to intervene, Sirius.”

“Like hell it’s not!”

“Why are you arguing with me about this? All it means is you get Harry less.”

“I know.”

“You lose.”

“Has it occurred to you that I don’t want to win? I don’t want to win this one because that means Harry loses. He’s the one caught in the middle of this,” Sirius told him, hastily throwing socks into the trunk, not bothering to count how many there were or if they were matched properly, “And he’s the one who is missing out on spending time with you because the adults just couldn’t keep their shit together. That’s bullocks.”

Remus smiled softly, “You’re not folding his pants? This is a very messy trunk.”

“Shut up.”

“Sirius, come on, don't--”

“No, I mean it, shut up for one second,” Sirius said taking a breath as he closed the dresser drawer, flicking his wrist so the pants and socks would organize themselves in the trunk. Even though he knew it would be ruined the second Harry unpacked at Remus’s and that when Harry came back at the end of the month, it would be haphazardly thrown in. This was the second summer they had done this. This was the second summer Sirius would spend all of June alone in his big empty house, crossing off days on the calendar until his kid came back and the walls of Number 12 could be filled with laughter instead of ghosts. They had both agreed to this arrangement, but that didn’t stop the frown appearing on Remus’ face when he dropped Harry off the last day of June a year ago. It didn’t stop Sirius from looking out the window of Grimmauld Place a half-hour later to see Remus still parked there, tears running down his face.

I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make this about me. It’s just…hard. This is his home and I’m just a vacation.

But Remus didn’t hear the times Harry started calling for him and then had to stop himself mid-sentence. And Remus wasn’t around the first week of July where Harry couldn’t stop talking about the park near Remus’s flat and the time they had ice cream for dinner. Remus wasn’t there for all the bedtimes Sirius tried to read the book Harry had been reading with Remus only to be told you’re doing it wrong and it’s okay, I’ll just wait. Sirius didn’t want either of them to be a vacation destination--he wanted Harry to have roots in two places.

Point A.

Point B.

So no matter what happened, Harry would always have two clear places to go.

“This isn’t about money,” Sirius started, once the blood in his brain had settled and he could think straight, “Maybe at first it was…and I think if you take a second think about it, you’ll admit that you weren’t ready to have a five-year-old staying with you for an extended period of time when you first moved either…”

Remus chewed his lower lip for a moment, “No, you’re right. I wasn’t.”

“But it’s not anymore. It’s not about…I’m not just throwing money at you, Remus.”

“The galleons in Harry’s trunk say differently.”

“It’s pocket money!”

“He’s eight, how big do you think his pockets are?” Remus asked but there was no heat to his question. It was the same tone and same expression that Remus used to wear when Sirius would go overboard with baby clothes or toys.

“So I’m…indulgent. Okay? I admit that. But maybe you can admit you’re being stubborn about this? Harry deserves more than every other weekend with you. And to be honest, you know I can’t read and his books are getting more and more words in them.”

“You can read…” Remus smiled a little and sighed, “What is admitting it going to do? We signed a contract.”

“Contracts can be amended.”

“To what?”

“What do you want?” Sirius asked, though he already knew what the answer would be. All the time. So he’s mine. Usually with ex-boyfriends, you could go the rest of your life and never hear their name again. It was much harder to move on when the ex was your husband and his name came out of your child's mouth every other breath. “I mean, obviously we can’t…the all together under one roof thing isn’t going to work. So, what do you want to do? Just tell me and I’ll be down at the ministry and I won’t leave until--”

“I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that I don’t need you to fight for me anymore.” Remus told him, eyebrows knitting together, “That’s not your job anymore.”

“It’s always my job.”

“No. You aren’t just going to sweep in and handle this for me but--”

“For fucks sake, Re--”

“Let me finish, would you?” and Sirius crossed his arms, the trunk long forgotten as he stared at his ex-husband expectantly, “You don’t get to handle this. Because it is not a you situation. It’s a we situation. So we can go handle it together.”

We.

Maybe there was a different version of us to be found.

“I can work with that.” Remus rolled his eyes at the response as Sirius walked to Harry’s closet, going through t-shirts, trying to remember which ones were his favorite to wear at the moment. Blue.

“Hot head…”

“Stubborn arse.”

--

December 1989

“I don’t think there are enough presents here,” Remus mused looking around at the towering boxes of gifts on the floor. It was after midnight, and as usual most of the gift wrapping was left until the last minute, Remus sitting in the parlor of Number 12 with Sirius a bottle of firewhiskey between them. It would’ve taken less time had they both not wanted to have at least two very stiff drinks following Christmas Eve dinner at the Weasleys before starting wrapping. The first hour after Harry went to bed was spent recounting the evening, a back-and-forth occurring between the two of them that had been pushed aside years ago. Like a double-trapeze artist act at the circus that had retired and came back around for a farewell tour, Remus still remembered how to counter quick remarks from Sirius. And for the first time in such a long, long, time, had been thankful to have Sirius next to him at the Weasley’s dinner table while he bit his tongue and they shared looks that no one else understood.

Dusting off the cobwebs of a foreign language both of them had forgotten to practice. Tongues were clumsy around the words, pronunciation a bit off, but a conversation could be had nonetheless.

“Kid is spoiled.” Sirius returned, “James and Lily would hate this. Christmas is about love, not about presents, Sirius," he finished in an impression of James that Remus hadn't heard in quite some time.

“He was such a bloody tosser sometimes,” Remus smiled around the rim of his glass, “Tell us all it’s not about presents and it’s about a feeling but you know he’d be the first one writing us about what he got from his parents.”

Sirius laughed, “Like it was a contest too. We get it, Prongs, you had a good childhood. No need to rub it in our faces. I remember one year, I think I had gotten a set of dress socks from my parents…this whole new, expensive wardrobe, and a magical planner to help me organize my classes. James writes me with Pads, I got a new broom and my Mum made my favorite cookies! Honestly, more--”

“Jealous of the cookies, right? Mrs. Potter’s were the best.”

“They were…”

“You make them pretty well too,” Remus told him, taking a sip of his drink. The fireplace crackled quietly, warmth enveloping the both of them. “You think they’d be upset?”

“About what?”

“Us?”

“I…can’t think about that.” Sirius told him, “I do sometimes and it gets way too dark up there," he said tapping the side of his skull with a tattooed finger, "and…it’s better I don’t. I think…they’d just want Harry to be happy and taken care of…and if we’re happy too, even better. But not required."

"Like a side effect?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Remus looked up from the amber liquid in his glass to meet Sirius’ eyes from across the room. The same dark curls, as thick as it was at seventeen. The same lopsided smile that Remus fell hook, line, and sinker for. Except now he was 29 and Remus wasn’t falling, wasn’t hurting, wasn’t anything but glad to be able to sit in a room with his best friend without wanting to claw his eyes out or play the blame game.

“You…you know…what I realized?” Remus asked, Sirius’ eyes meeting his own.

“Hm?”

The ache is gone.

“I don’t think we’ve been in a room this long together in…years. And…the funny thing is, I’m still looking forward to being here tomorrow. I don’t even want to pretend I’m going to the lav when I’m actually smoking out the window.”

“I knew you were doing that…”

“You never said anything.”

“Yeah, because that’d be very hypocritical of me when I say I need to go to check the wards when I’m actually smoking.” Remus laughed, Sirius’ smile catching the firelight as he spoke again, “It was rough waters there for a little bit, Moons…but, I think we did alright.”

“Yeah.”

“Except, you know…James and Lils would really hate that we’re still smoking.”

“you’re on your own, kid” is remus coded, “anti-hero” is regulus coded, “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” is wolfstar coded, “the great war” is the battle of hogwarts coded, “labyrinth” is dorlene coded

taylor swift is one of us you guys every evidence is on the table.

oh my god that sooooo amazing!!!!!!! YOU GO GIRL!!! im so happy for you and thank you for building up that courage and coming out to your mum!! <33

Sooo errr....I have news, and I kinda want to share it because its such a big deal to me and tbh I'm like 99% sure this is a dream ! Zhshdhdh

I finally built up the courage to come out as lesbian to my mother, and, she supports me ! She literally could not have handled it any better than she did and I am so so happy !

It feels so good to just not have to hide it from her anymore, and honestly I just feel so free !

And with all that said, if you're someone who's struggling with any of this stuff, I hope you're okay and that it gets better for you ! My messages are always open if you ever need to talk !

(a snippet from the same unpublished raising harry AU except make it wolfstar for all of you who have been suffering through shitposts, have a treat for sticking around <3)

context: sirius and harry relocate to grimmauld place.

-

“Are you sure you’re going to be--”

“Ask me that one more time, Remus,” Sirius said harsher than he intended.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright here?”

“Arse.”

Remus gave him a wry grin over his glass of wine, lips already stained berry from the glass he had before, looking perfectly relaxed on the opposite end of the couch from Sirius. “Still haven’t answered the question.”

“I’m not sure I have an answer.”

Remus clicked his tongue, “You always have an answer. An opinion. It’s one of my favorite things about you, even if it is frustrating.”

“Am I frustrating you?”

“Every second since I met you,” he said, and Sirius opened his mouth, Remus holding up a finger immediately before Sirius could say a single word, “And before you respond with something clever regarding your time prison, no the 12 years there were not any sort of reprieve. Every time I thought I had gotten rid of the traces of you….one more would appear. Dog hair on my clothes, a neatly folded sweater, one year I even found an old letter you wrote me from hols when we were fifteen.”

“Well at least I know I won’t have to become a ghost to haunt you when I die…” Sirius mused, giving Remus a wink before taking a sip of his own wine. 

“...Are you going to be alright here?” Remus asked for the third time, and Sirius actually laughed, watching as Remus’s smile split his face wide open and suddenly Sirius was fifteen again, sitting across the Gryffindor common room with a quiet, golden boy who had the best barbs tucked away behind books and big sweaters. 

Sirius laughed quietly, looking up at the mantle where the ticking clock was. Sirius missed the stained glass windows already and the handsome emerald green clock and the soft beige rug that was in the sitting room at his home by the seaside. And then he thought of Harry’s smile when they arrived that day, trunks in hand, Harry rushing to the backyard to go flying, leaving his trunk in the middle of the hall.

It annoyed Sirius that Harry did that at first, because trunks didn’t belong in the middle of walkways and Sirius had told him to bring it up to the bedroom he had chosen the last time they had come together. Harry had blindly chosen a bedroom then as well, waving Sirius away with his hand and just nodding along, more interested in the backyard and his firebolt. 

It annoyed Sirius, and then…it didn’t.

It was so normal. As if Harry had been leaving his things around and Sirius had been getting mildly irritated for their whole lives. 

He thought of Harry’s messy hair and flushed cheeks when he finally came inside after Sirius had called him for dinner twice. Remus had come over to help them settle in, so had Andromeda, Sirius offering dinner in exchange, the table that Sirius had eaten lonely meals at just a few months ago feeling much bigger. 

“I think so,” is what Sirius settled on.

“Were you thinking that entire time?”

“Oi!”

“It was a long pause, thought you had fallen asleep.”

“I believe that’s your modus operandi, Moony,” Sirius said so easily, the nickname fizzling into the air like smoke after a firework. “Remus,” he corrected when he realized his fumble. Remus. 

“I can be Moony…I…missed being Moony.” Remus cleared his throat, “I missed you.”

“Remus…”

“I can’t tell you that? I can’t tell you how I missed you? And even though the dog hair on my clothes and the sweaters and the stupid notes you used to write me were frustrating to find…they also made me miss you? Can I not tell you I thought about you every day for almost 13 years?”

“You can tell me whatever you’d like,” Sirius said, “And I’ll tell you I did the same except it’s not quite so endearing or sentimental. Because what else was I supposed to think about? You were my…you were going to be my fiancee and you didn’t even try….”

“I’m sorry.”

“I…I know.”

“Then--”

“I’m not at forgiveness yet, Remus.” Moony. Whoever you are. “I’d really like to be, but I’m not.”

“I should go.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t get there.”

“You think you will? You think one day you’ll be able to look at me and want me again?”

“I want you right now. It’s not a question of want.”

Remus put down his wine glass on the end table, shifting on the couch so he was closer to Sirius, no longer on opposite ends of the couch--of the world. On the same page, in the same proximity for the first time since that night in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. The lights were dim, the clock ticked on the mantle as Remus’s knee touched Sirius’s. Amber eyes scanned his face looking for any type of sign and Sirius closed his eyes.

Moony.

“Can I hold you?” Sirius opened his eyes. “...Can I hold you?”

He breathed in deeply, already watching Remus’s hands between them, itching to touch Sirius. Sirius’s hands were longing to do the same. 

Remus was all scratchy cardigans and half-shaven face. Bumps and bruises, and Sirius remembered running his hands over every part of Remus entranced by the indentations of scar tissue and raised freckles. Nothing about Remus was smooth. Clever, but lacking social charm. Knew how to clear a room. Knew precisely the wrong thing to say at the wrong time. But their relationship had been. 

Against all odds, Sirius and Remus, Moony and Padfoot, my love and my darling, had been the smoothest course Sirius had ever sailed. 

“Can I hold you?” Remus asked one more time, even softer, his face moving closer.

“....the only thing I can think of to say is your name. Every version of it.”

“Yes…no…” Remus offered, “maybe…in a few hours…just for a second…”

“That’s a lot of options.”

“Yes or no, then.”

Yes.

Yes.

Hold me. Please. Remind me of what it was like to give my burdens to someone else to carry just for a little while.

“Yes.” 

Remus moved slowly, daring to touch Sirius’s hands first, then his wrists, thumb caressing his pulse point while long fingers skimmed over tattoos and the dark hair on his arms again. Sirius sat still, inhaling and exhaling deeply, afraid Remus was going to make him come undone with the most innocent of touches. Remus’s hands moved up to his arms and Sirius continued to fight with lingering resolve. 

It wasn’t passion, though.

No.

Not like when they were seventeen and they would take turns edging each other into madness with wanton looks in the hallway and hands in places they definitely shouldn’t have been in the middle of class, and kisses that always left someone begging for more. Or even when they were nineteen and finding intimacy in learning how to fix a leaking sink and a tiny shower that really couldn’t fit the two of them properly, but they insisted on being in there together anyway. Sirius would have to hold Remus’s arm when they got out of the shower, so much excess water on the linoleum flooring, taking care not to let his boyfriend-fiance-nearly husband slip. 

The one thing Sirius always handled with care…was Remus, and now it seemed like it was the opposite. Not that Sirius asked for it, or explicitly told Remus that.

This Remus now though, this thirty-something Remus was feeling every valley and curve of Sirius’s arms, then shoulders, moving closer until their faces were mere centimeters apart. 

Sirius inhaled.

Remus exhaled.

Sirius and Remus. One name it was always said so fast and together- SiriusandRemus, carved into trees, etched into pavement, signed on leases and wedding certificates that never came to be.

....

“dear sirius,”

Please please please don’t be mad. Remember how I told you that Hagrid had made a new friend? Well… 

His new friend was a dragon and we had to help smuggle it out to Charlie (Ron’s brother) and we got caught by McGonagall and we lost 150 points and McGonagall said she’d have to write to our parents so I’m writing this really fast because I’m hoping you’ll get my letter first so that you don’t get too shocked when a Hogwarts owl comes through the wards. 

Please don’t yell at me too much when you see me at the next Quidditch match. I won’t be doing it again, I swear on your mum’s portrait. 

Love, 

Harry

Dear Sirius,

Our new Defense teacher is just as much of a loony as you told me he’d be. And his robes make me wish I was completely blind. Can you send me another one of your old books? I really really don’t think I’ll be learning much of anything this year. At least anything of value (although if you want to know what Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite colour is, I can let you know). 

Love,

Harry

Dear Sirius,

I FORGOT MY SIGNED HOGSMEADE PERMISSION SLIP CAN YOU PLEASE SEND IT TO ME! URGENTLY! THANK YOU!

Also do you want any more Sugar Quills when I go to Honeydukes? I remember you were on your last one when I left.

Love,

Harry

Dear Sirius,

You probably already heard, but I can’t come home from Christmas this year. There’s going to be a stupid Yule Ball at the stupid school on Christmas day and I have to go because I’m a stupid champion and I have to find a stupid date because I have to open the stupid ball. And learn how to stupid dance!

I think I left my stupid dress robes in my closet. Can you send them to me? Also, how do I ask someone to come with me to the ball?

Missing you and your horrid Christmas decor.

Love, 

Harry

Dear Sirius,

I know you told me to tell you if anything weird happens this year and I think something just did. The new Defense teacher is a witch from the Ministry-absolutely horrid woman. I had a detention with her (yes I know the term only just started and no you may not ask why) and she had me doing lines, only the quill she gave me was kind of strange? It didn’t use ink. It sorta… used my blood I think. Or at least the ink was red. Carved the words I was writing into the back of my hand. Healed right up though. No scars or anything.

Don’t lose your mind. I’m sure it’s fine. I’m just telling you now so that you can’t yell at me later for keeping  “important information” from you like the whole Philosopher’s Stone Disaster of ‘92.

Hope to see you soon. Schoolwork is slowly killing me.

Love,

Harry

Okay fuck it if this post reaches 666k notes by the end of 2023 I'll practise basic self care

Why 666k? Because it's funny and impossible so good fucking luck

i couldnt get through this without dissolving into a mess of tears every two seconds!

@greyeyedmonster-18 YOU ARE THE BEST, I hv said it before but I'll say it every time you create this...THIS - gawd even the word masterpiece seems like an understatement!

Fault Lines pt. 6

Read Fault Lines parts 1-5 here (links to part 5 but the rest are there)

(final installment. thank you all for following along with the pain.)

In which Remus and Sirius are divorced and raising harry and trying their very best.

--

December 1995

Sirius and Harry sat on the roof of Grimmauld Place, heating charm encircling their bodies alongside blankets that were thrown over their shoulders. Harry had a knit hat pulled over his head for good measure, hot butterbeer between them, as they talked into the open air about the past school year and upcoming holidays and of course, Remus, who had left hours ago on a date.

“Is this considered spying?” Harry asked

“No, we just happen to be on the roof, and if Remus happens to come back while we’re out there then…I call it coincidence.”

“I think he might call us nosy berks.” Harry grinned around the top of his cup, before taking a sip, clearly not caring whether or not Remus found them to be intrusive. After years of Remus insisting he keep his flat, despite not using it for 9 months out of the year, Sirius had finally worked out a situation that met both their needs: a guest house. The backyard of Grimmauld Place was spacious--Sirius and his brother and his cousins had gotten lost in it as children when they strayed from the path-- and there was room for an entire tiny house to be built. Sirius hired a magical contractor, Remus demanded he pay for part of it, and the rest was history, Remus moving into the house the summer after Harry’s third year. They both still had their own spaces. They both still had their own boundaries. Remus still asked before he came into Number 12, especially if it was later in the night, and Sirius knocked before going into Remus’ guest house. But it worked. Even if their view from the roof could see the house in the distance, a lamp left on shining through the windows and breaking up the darkness of the ground.

“I never thought Remus would be the one who was going on all the dates,” Harry added.

“Do you mind it?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, and paused “Hey, Sirius?”

“Hey, Harry?”

“Do you think Remus will marry again?”

“I hope so.”

“Do you? Want to get married again?” Harry asked turning his head in Sirius’ direction, green eyes catching starlight. Sirius reached a hand forward, almost impulsively, stroking Harry’s face lightly. Fifteen was older than fourteen, James’ jawline as Sirius remembered it making an appearance in Harry’s face; eyebrows filling in, a smile that no longer seemed too big for his face.

“Can I be straight with you?” Sirius asked

“I don’t know, can you?” Harry returned smartly and Sirius choked on the sip of his butterbeer he had taken at precisely the wrong moment, peels of laughter wafting into the night sky decorated by starlight and winter clouds.

“Your Dad would’ve loved that joke,” Sirius said once he finally had control over his breath and was sure he wasn’t going to fall to his death off the roof.

“Was he funny?”

“I don’t think he meant to be,” Sirius said, “He…we joked around a lot together, he was always the person I felt I could be the most ridiculous with but…I don’t know if people would’ve described him as funny. Your Mum though? Hysterical. She was really quick on her feet…she’d have me laughing so hard sometimes at her responses.”

“Like you?”

“She was better,” Sirius told him.

“You can be straight with me.”

“I didn’t really want to get married in the first place, love.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“So…why did you?”

Because it was never 50/50 in a relationship. Because there was always someone who gave more, and someone who took more. Because there was always someone who worked hard to keep things running smoothly, and the other sailed along for the ride. Because after everything that happened, marrying Remus felt like the least Sirius could do to make everything feel normal again.

“Remus wanted to.” Sirius told him simply, “And I love Remus. Always will, and I’d do anything for him. If he woke up tomorrow and said he wanted to marry me again, I’d probably do it.”

“Really?”

“It’s what…you do.” It’s what I do.

“I know you’ve told me…why…did you two end, do you think? You know, now that you’re older and wiser.”

“We were kids when we fell in love, Harry,” Sirius told him after considering for a moment, his hand still on Harry’s face, thumb stroking cheekbone. “We were…two kids just trying to hate ourselves a little less and saw each other and didn’t want to let go. We were young and…then there was a war and we were terrified all the time. When your parents died it was like this…scary, massive space that was left behind. And…we held onto each other because who else did we have? We started because we wanted to hate ourselves a little less and ended up hating each other a little bit more.”

“But…now?”

“I love Remus, you know. We love each other, even if we’re not together. I loved him even when I hated him and he’d tell you the same thing, I hope.”

“Do you think you’ll ever…find love again?”

“I think, that the love I have to offer is best given to you. And Remus.”

“I don’t want you to be lonely once I move out…”

Sirius gasped, “You’re moving out? What? When?”

Harry cracked a smile, “I just mean…eventually.”

“You can stay forever.”

“Don’t…you want another love? Isn’t that what…makes the world spin and all that stupid stuff?”

“I had that once, Harry. With Remus. It was…passionate and wild and…sometimes I think about the time we had in our little flat after graduation and the early days here at Number 12 and they’re so…beautiful. I had that kind of great love once. Some people might get more than one shot, but I…don’t think that's me. I think I am just supposed to have you.”

“Seems…unfair that I get all of it.”

“Nah.” Sirius said, “Why are you wondering?”

Harry paused for a long time and then broke eye contact to look at his feet, stretched out in front of him, “I mean there's…a girl. And…I might have snogged her before the hols and I’ve just been thinking about it. Love? I know that makes me a tosser but…”

Sirius grinned widely, watching as his godson fidgeted nervously as he revealed the information, “Well first things, was it a good snog?”

“I…think so.” Harry said and looked up again, “I told her she could write me over hols and she didn’t say no…so I feel like that’s a good sign, right?”

“Very good.” Sirius nudged Harry with his shoulder, “Second…your parents had the greatest love on this Earth. Your Dad would talk about your mother like she opened the sky and love was this big thing that could move mountains. I think you inherited that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Sirius nodded, and then picked up his wand, waving it in a pattern in front of them, light appearing in the shape of two trees twisted around each other, “See these trees? How they’re wrapped around each other?” Harry nodded, “They can grow like that for a little bit, using each other for support, but eventually the branches get knotted and they knock leaves off one another because they’re too close and they stop growing,” Sirius waved his wand again, the trees unraveling into two separate ones, extending taller and he watched as Harry’s face lit up at the magic. Still a child in the way the little things expanded his mind. “But separate? Look what they can do. Sometimes they need to do that to grow. And I think…all relationships are about finding someone you can grow with.”

“That…” Harry smiled a little, “makes a lot of sense.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Now tell me, who is--” but the sound of the back door of Number 12 opening and closing cut Sirius off, Remus’ form walking onto the path towards the guest house, looking upward to spot the two of them on the roof. “Welcome back, Moons!” shouted Sirius.

“Room for one more up there?” asked Remus back, his wand up to his throat to magnify his voice magically

“Depends, can you make the climb? You might hurt yourself!” Harry responded and Sirius laughed. He and Harry used the trellis on the side of the house, the same way Sirius had snuck out as a teenager, not bothering with magic or brooms. Remus apparated though, appearing next to Harry and nudging him for the cheek.

“I’m as fit as I ever was, thank you,” Remus said absorbing into Sirius’ warming charm.

“You’re just in time,” Sirius told him, “Harry was going to tell me every last detail about this girl he snogged.”

“Oh, Ms. Chang, wasn’t it? It was the talk of the staff room before the break,” Remus grinned back and Harry’s eyes went wide. Sirius laughed, taking his sip from his butterbeer as Harry proceeded to follow up with Remus about what the teachers all knew and how they found out, thinking this was all he could ever want. Thinking that there were no people more deserving of everything Sirius had to offer than his best friend and his kid.

--

May 1996

“It….seems you get full custody now,” Minister Fudge said carefully, examining the paperwork in front of him.

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

“No, it just…is, Mr. Lupin,” he said signing on the line on the bottom of the page, “You are granted custody and all his possessions…there's a list here of things he wanted you to have. He left quite a lot to Mr. Harry James Potter, but of course, he stipulated that you manage the money and the estate until…” Fudge laughed, though it was hollow and empty like the air in the room. Like the cavities of Remus’ chest. “He is of age and passes his NEWT in Arithmancy and can look at the Black Estate ledger without getting a tension headache.”

“Sounds…like Sirius…” Remus mumbled, clenching his fists to keep his hands from shaking. Not even 36 and Sirius had thought about a will. So like him to be well-kept and organized, a tragedy turned into a political affair once there were massive amounts of money to be allocated. Sirius knew that though. Sirius…prepared for every emergency.

If disaster struck, there was a chance Sirius has already thought about it ten times over and had come up with a plan to get them out of it in three different ways. Flood or hell-fire or duels or a second plague and Sirius had prepared for it.

Except he didn’t prepare Remus for what it would feel like when he was no longer there. He didn’t leave behind a set of instructions for Remus to follow that included what to do when their fifteen-year-old kept waking up in the middle of the night screaming and calling his name or recipes for the fudge he made every Christmas or even how to be the person in the room who made everyone feel like they belonged.

Because Remus had never felt more out of place in his life.

Every space felt emptier now.

--

June 1996

“Normal” for their house had shifted drastically. Morphing from high thread count sheets to a thread barren blanket that was too short for a bed. Some days, it covered them just fine; most days…it left them cold and shaking, and worst of all Harry never knew which one it was going to be. He slept on the couch of Remus’ guest house, not strong enough to walk the several feet into the back door of his home. Not certain he’d be able to look at the empty kitchen chairs without falling to his knees and crying until tears dried out.

Normal--Sirius and Remus; Remus and Sirius-- was no more.

It was just Remus now and Harry found himself wishing for the days he spent as a child living out of a suitcase. Because even if it was hard, and Harry hated when he forgot his favorite pair of jeans in his dress, it meant that there were two places he could count on. It meant that eventually, the clothes would run out and Harry would return home and Sirius would be there.

Smiling.

Waiting.

With clean sheets.

And his favorite pair of jeans.

And two tattooed arms that wrapped around him tightly and made sure everything was okay.

It wasn’t okay.

--

“I want to leave,” Harry said one evening, pretending to eat dinner across from Remus. Both their plates were still full despite sitting there for nearly a half-hour. “I don’t think I can be here.”

“Okay.”

“Where do we go?”

I’m not sure anywhere is going to feel like home again.

“We…can figure that out. Wherever you want. Whatever you want.”

“It hurts too much to be here.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I…he worked so hard to make sure that…this big house was good. He let me paint on the walls and…there's still a scribble in the sitting room…I feel bad leaving it behind but I can’t breathe here.”

“Me neither.”

“I think we need to start breathing again.”

Somehow.

“It’s yours, you know.” Remus told him, “Whenever you’re ready…it’ll be waiting for you.”

--

May 2003

Harry was surprised the house still recognized him, Grimmauld Place appearing as he approached the front door, magic searing through his palm as he touched the knob.

It was quiet. So unlike what he remembered from the house who built him. He remembered music playing. He remembered the way it smelled--spices and sandalwood, sometimes fresh mint, Sirius telling him it was relaxing and Harry would roll his eyes. His shoes made the floorboards creak, the house moaning at someone else's presence.

Do you belong here?

Harry walked through, using cleaning charms along the way, thinking of how Sirius would’ve hated the cobwebs hanging on the stair railing banisters and the dust clinging to picture frames of his parents in the hallway. Neither Remus nor Harry had been back to Number 12 since the day they moved out of the guest house all those years ago. He had cried on the driveway for an hour before taking the welcome mat that said wipe your paws as the only reminder of Sirius, everything else too painful to even touch. Remus had waited for him in the car, the two of them finding a nicer flat in no time at all, almost taking the first option they saw because anything was better than a guest house on your dead godfather's property. It had been a long set of years, filled with trying his best to move on in a world that had much less laughter and light in it.

Everything had gone dark for a little.

And Harry did his best to learn from Remus and Sirius's mistakes and tried not to cling to the first person who felt familiar. He did his very best to grow and learn, now expecting his first child with Ginny, who had come along years after Harry had found the shore again, and they needed a home.

Height marks carved into the threshold in the kitchen.

The desk where Harry used to do his homework in the library, a book left open from Christmas of 1995. An unintentional time capsule.

Harry took a breath as he approached the door at the end of the hallway on the first floor, pushing it open, immediately hit with the overwhelming sensation of Sirius and his study.

It felt like he should’ve been there. Standing behind his desk, because Sirius never worked sitting down, always moving around, using the walls and the entire space to craft his ideas and write his essays. As if a mind so big and so brilliant needed an entire room to organize everything clearly. The walls were bright violet. Harry remembered painting it with him. Pale blue shag carpet. A picture of the two of them on Sirius’ desk.

Harry sat down in the leather chair behind his godfather's desk, closing his eyes. If he stayed there long enough, maybe Sirius would just…appear. Like he had been tucked away, just out of sight, for years and he’d come around the corner with his comforting smile and loud laugh and say did you miss me?

Yes.

More than you could possibly know.

He opened the top draw of Sirius’ desk slowly, hands gravitating towards a simple black journal. Sirius wrote in one because his Dad had written in one.

I started after your Dad died, and he might have been onto something.

Harry wrote in one as well.

It felt wrong, but Harry opened the journal to a random page, his godfather’s neat cursive handwriting across the top of the yellowing paper, and his heart stopped.

February 1996

Remus and I. We had our time. I keep telling myself that no matter how…real it feels now when we’re alone in the sitting room, our time has passed. Our love was another century ago and we can’t go back.

I wish I could.

He tells me I'm the brave one but...not this time around. I fucked it up once already.

I would ask to try again if I thought he wanted to.

Right person.

Wrong time.

A very specific Sirius Black rec post for @v-a-l 😘

Always - Sirius (and Lily) being badasses in an AU where James and Harry died that night.

Stealing Harry - A classic Wolfstar raising Harry fic. Might be a bit too shippy for your tastes but I do love Sirius in this.

Contrariwise - This fic has me howling every time I read it. Sirius is so good and so in-character.

Dead Men Don't Bleed - Sirius & Harry centric, and an absolutely excellent fic.

The Unforgivables - I hate Snape but this has excellent Sirius (and Harry) characterization that I have a feeling you would like.

A Life More Ordinary - Another classic Wolfstar raising Harry fic with excellent Sirius characterization.

before the door of hell lamps burned - a very long Sirius-centric AU. His characterization is excellent here.

The Many Lives of Sirius Black - Sirius is so good in this series, especially Stronger At The Broken Places. Highly competent, badass, and in-character.

Zoozve, my beloved

Soft Christmas Drabbles: masterlist

Ficmas became my entire personality, here is all the things in one convenient area, in case you missed one or in case you want to re-read again

all is calm, all is bright- post-full moon christmas's arent so bad.

sweaty hands, full heart, can't lose- sirius meets the lupins.

its a wonderful life -sirius/remus watching Christmas movies. raising harry au

the best present - sirius learns to knit. wolfstar/raising harry au

a letter to you - remus gives sirius a gift. wolfstar @ hogwarts

grandmas cookies - on grief, love, and baking. wolfstar/raising harry au

traditions - lily and sirius have a christmas tradition of their own. (lilypad friendship fic)

do you not want to kiss me (pt 1) - jily, under the mistletoe

do you not want to kiss me (pt 2)- jily and a first kiss.

are we going to do this then?- jily, under the mistletoe, take two

good things take time - soft christmas moment with sirius/harry, raising harry au

ghosts - sirius drinks with ghosts...and his godson.

simply the best - lily convinces sirius to go to the slug club party with her. lily and sirius friendship fic.

a room of ones own- remus and harry surprise sirius for christmas.