OOC: Remus will be online soon. He still has an exam which he’s freaking out about, but when he’s back he’ll try and breathe some life back into this blog. Sorry about that :S 

I think this was from our last Yule Ball 

sirius-padfootblack:

emmeyvance:

That was the best though, I miss it. Everyone was all dressed up and smashed before the Ball was even halfway over. I think someone was in charge of the camera but ended up passing out…no doubt the pictures are lost forever

Er, actually…MacDonald’s got the pictures. Unfortunately. Because as I’ve heard there really some that ought to be burned or destroyed or at least hidden away where no one can ever see them.

So there’s evidence is there? I remember that night all too well. Which reminds me, I’ve yet to hold that against you. Mary’s beaten me to it, I suppose. Unless my memory deceives me, those pictures are not for the public eye. You’d do well to comply with her demands. 

Boredom and Other Things | Emmeline & Remus 

emmeyvance:

Emmeline retreated into the kitchen to pour him a cup of tea, steam rising from the cup as she picked it up. Her wand was tucked into her slippers and she bent down to pull it out as she muttered a quick charm to keep the mug warm. She knew that more often than not that when keeping a cup of tea and talking to someone the tea usually cooled before it had been fully finished. “I hope you like it hot!” Her fingers looped through the handle and carried it back into the living room, seeing him glance around the flat. Her eyes followed his gaze as she held out the mug of tea to him, walking back over to her chair to retrieve her own. The warmth slid down her throat and sent tendrils of fire into her chest. 

“I’m fine, Remus. I appreciate the concern but there isn’t much to be worried about. Sure, it gets a little lonely here sometimes but I have firewhiskey and Order meetings to keep me sane.” Emmeline offered him a small, reassuring smile as she sat back on the couch. Her legs tucked underneath her as she laid back against the cushions, her cup already tilted towards her mouth as she took a long sip of tea. While she did appreciate his concern, she didn’t exactly know how to respond to it without seeming too defensive. Most of the Order members had known by now that she wasn’t very….well, heartwarming. It wasn’t that she wanted to avoid everyone, she just wasn’t the best as being as friendly as most of them were. Fighting Death Eaters was her job and the thought of being torn between friends or duty was enough to keep her far away.

Remus was easy enough to get along with and she didn’t need to worry about much when she was around him. He understood how it felt to be withdrawn but he had Sirius and others to share the worries and troubles that he went through everyday. “Want to sit?” She asked, patting the spot on the couch next to her. “What about you? Are you..okay yourself? How’s living with Sirius? Does he get some of the wet dog smell all over?” Dark hair spilled over her shoulders as she chuckled into her cup, unable to help it. Dog jokes had been around long enough since everyone found out about his furry little ‘problem’. 

Remus took the cup of tea with a quick smile of thanks, before taking the seat that was offered to him. As worried as he may be, he knew Emmeline too well to push the matter any further. He also respected her answer; if she claimed she was well, than he had to take that at face value. She may feel as if she was alone, but she was far from it. Remus merely hoped she knew that, for it wasn’t something that could be voiced easily. Remus had never been overly accustomed to honest words, merely because his affliction didn’t allow for him to talk about how he might be feeling or what was really going on in his life. Words of comfort sometimes didn’t carry as much meaning as he might have hoped of late. He had his doubts about the war, for the effects of it were staring him right in the face, but those were best left unvoiced. These darker thoughts only seemed to come to the forefront as he saw less and less of his friends. Sure, he had Sirius; but Sirius was often called on missions, as was Remus. Not to mention the recent full moon that had reminded him of what he really was, that which would never leave him.

“Firewhiskey always does the trick,” Remus said, summoning a feeble laugh. It was true; firewhiskey was somewhat of a comfort at the end of the day, chasing away any lingering thoughts of the war before you rested your head for a hopeless, disturbed night’s sleep. “I’m doing just, as is Sirius. The wet dog smell hasn’t been much of a problem, since he’s been away on a mission.” Yet it was forever there, on the sofa or wafting up from the smelly socks he discarded here and there. In truth, Remus didn’t mind. It was much like their years at Hogwarts, thus there was a comforting aspect to it. But he wouldn’t admit to that. Wet dog smell was not supposed to bring one comfort. Remus’ eyes lingered upon Emmeline’s features as if trying to discern something about her. His friends and fellow students from Hogwarts had only recently discovered that he was a werewolf, and he wasn’t entirely sure how they might have felt about it. It wasn’t a secret he could have hidden forever, but that wasn’t to say he hadn’t tried or at least wanted to. If Remus was nervous about it however, you wouldn’t know it from looking at him. “But really, he’s a great flatmate,” he said finally. “I’m very grateful, despite the odd smells.” Remus blew lightly on his tea in an effort to cool it down before he took a sip. It was hot, warming and almost soothing, something he needed at this moment in time. He suspected Emmeline felt much the same. Then again, if it weren’t for the empty bottles of firewhiskey that she’d hastily placed to one side or the darkening circles around her eyes, Remus would have mistaken Emmeline for someone far more relaxed than he knew her to be. Either that, or someone severely on the edge. 

Firewhiskey & Padfoots || Sirius & Remus 

sirius-padfootblack:

It was no secret that Remus wasn’t overly fond of Sirius’ motorbike. Sirius could recall the numerous lectures he had received about the dangers of a regular motorbike, let alone one that could fly, but he never paid them much attention. He was aware of the danger as it made it all that more exhilarating. Danger was part of the fun, naturally. However, what Sirius wouldn’t tell Remus was that he had actually put a couple of charms in place to ensure his safety; that he wouldn’t fall off of the bike while riding it. After all, Remus would be terribly upset with him if he fell off of his bike and tumbled to his death. Sirius refused to tell Remus for he knew he’d get that smug I told you so type of look that he used to have back in school when him and James had been caught doing something Remus had warned them against. That had hardly ever stopped them, though, and as such had seen that face more times than they could count. Sirius brought his glass to his lips, sipping at it slowly as he eyed Remus out of the corner of his eyes. Remus had seemed to come to the understanding that the bike meant as much to Sirius as the Marauders. The notion was almost a bit silly—Sirius could admit to that—but that didn’t stop him from loving her so. When Remus had first moved in with him, Sirius was sure he was going to drive his friend to utter insanity because of the bike. He had developed a specific set of rules regarding her, and he had forced Remus to look after her when he was away on missions. Knowing Remus as well as he did, Sirius had been able to see right through him when he claimed to have checked up on her the first couple of times Sirius had been away, but in reality had done no such thing. Those were really the only major fights they had had since Remus’ moving in. It seemed that he quickly come to understand that Sirius was serious when it came to his baby; that she meant a hell of a lot to him.

Sirius grinned as he lowered his glass back to his lap, letting his fall backwards onto the back of the sofa. “Ah, yes, Sadie isn’t all that fond of poetry,” he replied with a mock-seriousness. “I s’pose she’ll be dreadfully upset with me.” He pretended to contemplate leaving for only a moment, although he knew he wouldn’t just yet. As much as Sirius loved the feel of flying through the air on his motorbike, as much as he loved the roar of the engine as they flew above London, he wasn’t about to leave Remus. He had only just returned home, after all, and he admittedly enjoyed being around Remus far too much. But that was to be expected. Sirius had always considered James to be more of a brother than his own truly was, and as such Remus held the position of his best friend. Back at school, and especially after the Prank, Sirius had enjoyed the hours spent alone with Remus sneaking off to Honeydukes and frequenting the Astronomy Tower. He had cherished the evenings Remus had welcomed him into his bed for a late night chat when Sirius couldn’t sleep or there was something on his mind. Long gone were those days of a kind of innocence and ease since the war had set it, but being around Remus was still able to bring back that same feeling. Being around Remus was just as easy as it had always been; there was still a simplicity that was exclusive to their friendship. Of course Sirius still found it easy to be around James and Peter, as well, but their time together was far less frequent than the time he had with Remus. That could be attributed to the fact that he and Remus shared a flat, however.

Pushing himself up from the sofa, Sirius set his glass of firewhiskey down on the table before walking back over to the small pile of chocolate on the kitchen table. He sifted through the pile and the various types that Remus had brought home, searching for one that would satisfy the craving he was having. “I’ll take her out later,” he said absently, his mind clearly focused on the chocolate before him. Sirius wasn’t usually as particular about the chocolate he ate as Remus was, much more preferring to simply eat the sweet than to find the “perfect” kind. Seeing one with a wrapper that looked nice, Sirius grabbed it before making his way back to the sofa. He plopped himself down, lifting his legs up to rest across Remus’ lap. He shot his friend a toothy grin as he peeled the wrapper back from the delectable treat. “So you recited poetry, hm? Seems like you’re taking quite the liking to her. Trying to woo her, I suspect,” Sirius teased as he took a bite of the chocolate bar. “She’s a bit too…metal to be your type.” In reality, Sirius was hardly aware of Remus’ type. He had never given much thought to the matter, however. From what he could recall, Remus had had the odd date or two while they had been at school, which was quite unlike what his own dating habits had been like. However, Remus hadn’t seemed to want much of a real relationship with anyone. If he had, Sirius hadn’t been aware of the fact. He only assumed that Remus wasn’t much interested in dating due to his furry little problem, and he never questioned that assumption. In fact, Sirius never questioned much about Remus’ love life anymore. Whereas he might have been interested in occasionally trying to set Remus up with the odd classmate here and there back in school, he had since given up on that. It was for several reasons, really. The war, first and foremost, put something of a damper on starting any type of relationship with anyone; things were far too uncertain what with their going on missions and being gone for days on end. However, Sirius also felt a little selfish when it came to Remus. He had given up on trying to fix him up with someone partially because he didn’t want his friend to find some great girl and move on with his life. Sirius had come to depend on his company far too much, and it frightened him to think that Remus wouldn’t need him if he found someone else. Pulling himself from his thoughts, Sirius took another bite from his chocolate. “You’re welcome to join me for taking her out for a spin later,” he added, although he knew Remus wasn’t fond of heights.

Sadie. So the bike had a name. Sirius had kept that pretty close to his heart all these years, Remus thought to himself for this was the first he had heard of it. A grin graced his lips, yet he didn’t tease Sirius further. He’d save that for another day when they’d be in need of something uplifting, a distraction from the war that always seemed to come in the form of their former selves. For the time being, it was enough to simply see Sirius again. For too long, Remus had the entire flat to himself. It had been quiet, vacant, whereas with Sirius back it was already much warmer than it had been, more welcoming. Not that Remus didn’t like being on his own; he enjoyed the quiet so long as he had a good book to lose himself in. But the war was ever present in his thoughts, making it harder to break free from the strain it placed upon them. James and Lily had each other. Peter rarely seemed too bothered which Remus pinned down to the fact that he was more level headed than the rest of them, not driven by anger, passion or resentment. He was fearful, but he was comfortable, was the assumption Remus had come to. Sirius was much like himself; they had each other, whatever that meant. Remus was pretty sure Sirius had others too, but if such was the case than he didn’t know about it, all except for Sadie. Yet why the hunk of metal wouldn’t take to poetry was beyond him. Remus had always had a certain fondness for literature and the like. It was almost as if it were his armour against the world. He could recite poetry, identify the different instruments of a jazz ensemble, list the various uses of dragon’s blood, and in doing so he could avoid speaking of anything too personal. Yet for all the poetry Remus might indulge in, he doubted whether he’d use such means to woo anyone of his liking. That would hardly do the job. 

“Ridiculous,” Remus muttered in an effort to draw himself from the thoughts he was drifting closer towards, his eyes following Sirius of their own accord. They lingered there for a moment as Sirius sifted through the various chocolates, until Remus tore them away to look at his own. He had only taken a bite so far, unlike Sirius preferring to eat it slowly. He’d always claimed there was an art to eating chocolate; it wasn’t a food like any other, but something to be savoured, especially in times like this. Remus didn’t draw pleasure from much; chocolate was one example of something which when consumed allowed him to set darker thoughts aside, others being a particularly masterful prank devised by himself and his fellow Marauders or when he and Sirius were listening to records at top volume. They were guilty pleasures, he supposed, but he clung to each as if they were a lifeline. There were times when Remus felt compelled to lecture Sirius on how he devoured his chocolate, but he’d given up long ago now. There were some things which simply wouldn’t change, and he didn’t particularly want them to either; this was distinctly Sirius. Breaking off another piece of the chocolate bar, Remus popped it in his mouth, letting it melt against his tongue. In truth, it was rather fortunate that Sirius ate chocolate as carelessly as he did, for it allowed Remus to feel as if his own consumption was matched by his flatmate. Blaming Sirius for the significantly low supplies of chocolates in store was something he had enjoyed at Hogwarts; he wasn’t about to give it up.

“Perhaps I’ll take you up on that,” Remus offered by way of answer, but he knew that Sirius would see through him instantly. It was no secret that Remus didn’t like heights. It always took him a good hour or so (unless he’d been passed the bottle of firewhiskey) to get accustomed to being on the Astronomy Tower where the Marauders spent many a night during their years at school. Once he had however, he could appreciate how beautiful the grounds looked from up high, even if he couldn’t quite bring himself to appreciate the moonlight which illuminated them. “Anyway, since when have you known what my type was?” Remus was genuinely curious. There was the odd occasion at school when Sirius would nudge him in the side and indicate in a far from subtle manner towards a passing female, asking what Remus thought of her. Remus’ answer never seemed to satisfy him however, yet that didn’t keep Sirius from attempting to set him up with someone when the occasion arose. Remus had a feeling it was all a game to Sirius, but if such was the case Remus couldn’t help but feel just a little amused. Admittedly, he should have given his entire attention to the girl opposite him, but he spent the most part of each date wondering what cunning tricks Sirius had employed to pull this whole thing off. Of course that had been long ago, before the war had stunted all their interactions with others. This was much to Remus’ relief. It seemed to strike him towards the end of his seventh year, when James and Lily started to develop serious feelings for each other, that whatever dating was it most certainly wasn’t for him. Werewolves didn’t usually procreate, as the textbooks put it. Distracted, Remus quickly poured himself another glass of firewhiskey. Some things weren’t worth thinking about. 

OOC: Replies are on their way. They are currently half written, but they will be with you by tonight. My apologies!

Boredom and Other Things | Emmeline & Remus 

emmeyvance:

Emmeline found herself suddenly in the middle of her closet with nothing but a robe to cover her body and a pile of clothes in front of her. It was a rather small closet, nothing notable about it except for the few pairs of shoes and clothes that lined the shelves and the array of jewelry on one shelf. Most of them were gifts she had received but never really worn more than once, instead choosing to wear them only for the most important events. Order meetings didn’t exactly call for diamond earrings and jingling bracelets when there was talk of death and a somber mood in the air. She had invited Remus over to her flat and had showered previously but she still had no idea what would be suitable. With a groan, Emmeline pulled a simple fleece sweater over her head and one of her many jogging pants. 

Although she saw them time to time, Emmeline never really saw her friends as often as she would have liked. They were all busy with their missions or their own troubles and things weren’t as easy as they had been when they resided at Hogwarts. It was no easy task to give up her own freedom for a grueling mission but she did what was asked of her and didn’t stop until it was done. However, now that she had a visitor, it made her stomach tighten in a feeling that had been foreign to her for quite some time. Her stomach twisted with nerves as she set the kettle on the stove to prepare some tea, an empty bottle of firewhiskey lying abandoned on the otherwise pristine counter.

She wasn’t one for much clutter or decorations so the flat itself was rather easy to clean up and there was nothing really homey about it other than the television opposite the couch and a large bookcase that almost took up an entire wall. Emmeline was picking up another empty bottle of firewhiskey and scattered newspapers on the coffee table when the kettle started to screech. Shoving everything to the side, Emmeline ran into the kitchen to remove it from the hot stove and poured some into a cup, carrying it back into the living room. Her hands cupped around the mug to warm her fingers as she curled up in the chair that rested beside the window. Frost had accumulated in spots and she scratched at it with a fingernail, breaking the intricate feathery patterns with sharp, lateral lines. Once the doorbell rang and a short knock on the door alerted her of his presence, Emmeline left the comfort of the thick chair to open the door and reveal her longtime friend, Remus. “Hey,” She said simply, giving him a quick hug before ushering him into her flat. “Didn’t take too much trouble to get here I hope. Can I get you anything?”

Remus hadn’t seen Emmeline since that night at The Three Broomsticks, when they’d met alongside Alice and Marlene. Of course their meeting had been cut short by the arrival of Death Eaters leaving the place in ruin. Luckily the four were alright, escaping with little more than a few cuts and scrapes. The attack hadn’t been too bad; troubling, yes, but not as destructive as it may have felt at the time. Remus worried about Emmeline regardless of the fact that she’d claimed to suffer nothing more than a bump to the head. He was an incessant worrier, thus it was only inevitable that he wish to see her for himself. Besides, Emmeline happened to be one of the few people Remus turned to when there was something more troubling on his mind. She’d always been strong, but since leaving Hogwarts Remus had come to see how much of a fighter she really was. There was also something in Emmeline that reminded him of himself; beneath the strong front she put on, Remus sensed a vulnerability about her. If Remus’ suspicions were correct, there was a softer side of Emmeline that was severely staunched by the war.  He preferred to keep an eye on her, not because he didn’t think her capable, but because he did all his friends. There was also the fact that Emmeline lived alone. Remus was lucky to have Sirius, but he knew what it was like to live in solitude. It was in solitude that one’s darkest fears took hold of them.

Remus had disapparated a little ways from Emmeline’s home, for it was often difficult knowing where to apparate in the muggle world. Fearing he was earlier than she might have been expecting him, he tried took casual steps. However it wasn’t long before he arrived on her doorstep, bringing his knuckles against the door so as to mark his arrival. Remus was grateful that he got the opportunity to see Emmeline before the meeting for the Order that evening, for it gave him a chance to talk to her away from the eyes and ears of the others. Not that it would have mattered either way, for Remus was pretty sure he trusted everyone within the Order, but some things weren’t to be voiced in front of others. Remus hadn’t thought about that night at the Three Broomsticks since it had passed, however it had lingered in the back of his mind just as the war always tainted his thoughts. Remus was wrenched free of them momentarily when Emmeline opened the door to greet him. “Not at all,” Remus said, affecting a warm smile. Truthfully, Emmeline didn’t look all that great. However Remus knew better than to let that on. As he entered her flat, he couldn’t help but survey his surroundings. What struck him was how empty the place not only looked, but felt. “And uh.. a cup of tea?” Remus answered finally, for tea was one way of breaking the ice. “How are you? I know I’ve asked you that via owls, but really..” He hoped the tone of his voice was not enough to give away his concern.

Firewhiskey & Padfoots || Sirius & Remus 

sirius-padfootblack:

Sometimes Sirius truly hated how logical Remus was. It made sense that Dumbledore wouldn’t allow for him to skip missions that spanned across the full moon. Death Eaters didn’t, after all. Still, Sirius couldn’t see why someone else could take a mission if it occurred during a full moon. He would choose being with Remus over fighting Death Eaters any day, but even more so if he would be with Remus for his transformation. However, he was sure that even in Dumbledore would somehow miraculously allow that, Remus would protest. Remus had always been proud. Sirius reckoned his friend valued his pride almost as much as he did chocolate, which was certainly saying something. Sirius knew that Remus could take care of himself. He had always had been perfectly capable of that, never needing nor wanting anyone to take care of him or baby him in any way. And if Remus had been perfectly capable of taking care of himself before, he most certainly was now for his transformations weren’t nearly as awful with the Wolfsbane. But that didn’t mean that Sirius didn’t need to take care of Remus. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but he almost thought that if he was able to take care of Remus, if he was able to make him just a bit better, then he wouldn’t get cast aside. Sirius was aware that the thought of Remus simply throwing him away after so many years of friendship was incredibly daft, but it was a deep rooted fear he had. Although he would never say it aloud, he was worried that Remus would rid himself of him just as his family had done. Sirius was only reminded of that every time he encountered the odd cousin or two during a mission. His family, quite simply put, had fucked him up.

However, hearing that Remus still needed him, maybe even as much as Sirius assumed he had back in school, was more comforting than it should have been. Those words had stirred something in the pit of Sirius’ stomach, causing a wave affection for his friend to sweep through him. Actually hearing that he was needed seemed to be the reassurance he had been seeking, for his previous thoughts of Remus brushing him off disappeared. Sirius had known back in school that he had been needed by Remus. While it had only been spoken aloud as they tried to deal with the after-effects of the Prank, Sirius had known it. It was something that remained largely unspoken, save that one occasion, for it never had needed to be said. It was simply unspoken knowledge that they had needed one another. It had been obvious in the simplest of glances exchanged or the most casual of touches between them. It had become almost painfully obvious following the Prank; the silence that had passed between them only served to show Sirius just how much he had come to depend on Remus. Even now, years after that Prank, its effects still lingered, reminding Sirius that he needed Remus more than he really cared to admit. Since Remus had moved into the flat, Sirius had once again received constant reminders of just what Remus meant to him, of just how much he depended on his friend. The other’s man company almost seemed crucial, and he could only hope that Remus needed him as much. Sirius was tempted to voice his own need for Remus, but he decided not to for the moment already seemed honest enough, almost painfully so.

Instead, something else slipped from his mouth before he realised what he was saying. Sirius replied with a joking, but all too true, “I would hope that you need me more than anyone else does.” He hadn’t realised what he had said nor its implications until after it had already been spoken. In all honesty, though, Sirius didn’t care whether anyone else needed him or not. He had always enjoyed Remus’ attention and company just a bit differently than everyone else’s; he could only hope that Remus enjoyed being around him as much. However, that only fueled his desire—if it could be called that—to be needed by the other man. Sirius knew it was rather ridiculous, but there was hardly anything he could about it. He had tried not to be so needy, so dependent on his friend, but nothing ever changed; he had come to simply accept it. Sirius offered a faint smile as he reached for his glass of firewhiskey. “I mean that only those poor damsels really need me all that much. Not the whole world,” Sirius corrected half-heartedly, although it was probably already too late. Remus would be able to see right through him as he always seemed able to. It was a bit frightening at times just how well Remus knew him and what he was thinking without a single word needing to be said. He almost felt like a book at times, completely open for whomever wished to read him. Luckily, though, that person was only ever Remus; only Remus seemed capable of reading him with so little effort. Sirius took a long sip from his firewhiskey as he leaned back into the sofa. “Did you take care of my baby while I was away?” he asked, changing the subject to escape the painful honesty that seemed to be settling between them. Sirius had left Remus with specific instructions for checking up on his bike before he left on his mission; he was rather over-protective of her, but one could never be too cautious. He loved his bike almost as much as he loved his Marauders, although voicing that as he had just once—and he promised himself that he never would again—only presented Remus, and at the time James, Peter, and Lily, with a perfect opportunity to make fun of his obsession with the beautiful piece of metal.

Sirius’ words had caught Remus’ attention, and whilst he made note that Sirius seemed to regret them as soon as they’d left his lips Remus couldn’t help but ponder their meaning. They couldn’t have meant a great deal, for they were coming from Sirius and there was no ambiguity about their friendship. Yet Sirius’ words had stirred something in his subconscious. Remus wanted them to mean something, as if it would justify why he’d put up with him all these years. Of course putting up with Sirius was no trouble at all, for Remus cared so deeply for him that he even found his little quirks endearing as oppose to obnoxious. Wit and humour had proven useful over the years, masking words of honesty which Sirius must have seen through immediately. Remus never once admitted that whereas he and Sirius might possess vastly different personalities, his company had always been preferable. There were things about Sirius that Remus admired; whereas he cowered from confrontation, Sirius faced it head on. That was merely one example. Sirius said what was on his mind, at least for the most part, whereas Remus kept them locked away in dark places until the full moon at which point they erupted in a blaze of flayed claws and grizzly snarls. Yet for all that was left unsaid, Remus was often reminded that there was no need to voice certain things, as if it were understood regardless. Remus assumed that his needing Sirius was one of them. There was no hiding the fact that Remus’ biggest human fault was that he yearned the feeling of acceptance that the Marauders offered. Truthfully, it was too commonly denied him. Remus needed to feel liked. At school, it had been easy enough to keep within his friendship group and credit his unpopularity to not being cool, or not being as interested in Quidditch as others. It didn’t matter back then because he had the best friends any boy could have asked for. Now that he’d entered the working world, Remus was thrown askew by the new depths this yearning had developed. There wasn’t anyone Remus could possibly need more than Sirius; he’d always recognised that, though perhaps with less clarity than he did now.

Yet Remus couldn’t quite make sense of what Sirius had said, nor what they provoked in him. He decided the truth of the matter was that it didn’t entirely make sense. Sirius’ correction offered no explanation for the words they followed, and Remus couldn’t fathom why Sirius would hope for such a thing. Remus had always feared his need for Sirius would become a nuisance when, like James and Pete, Sirius chose to get on with his life. He’d convinced himself that this particular outcome was only inevitable for unlike Remus he had a chance at a real life. However, Sirius had sat on the opposite end of the sofa offering him an explanation as to why he’d missed the last full moon, apologising for his absence as if it was expected. Sirius never once had to stay with Remus on the night of the full moon, nor had Remus ever asked it of him. Sirius had always done it of his own free will. As these thoughts raced through Remus’ mind, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Sirius. Though Remus could usually read him like a book (as Sirius could him no doubt), it wasn’t always easy. Sirius was a mystery, even to Remus. He would never profess to know him through and through, for at points like this, he realised there was a side to Sirius that even he had never seen before. There were some things which could only be passed through words, for once voiced it took on a whole new meaning, however that is exactly why Remus did not press the subject.

Remus’ eyes flitted to the firewhiskey which he’d discarded on the table, leaning forwards so as to retrieve it before taking a gulp. “You’re baby, as you call her, is fine,” Remus said in mock disapproval. However it wasn’t long before his efforts failed and his lips tugged into a playful smile. There were few things the Marauders could tease Sirius about; from time to time he made a fool of himself, but not half as much as James, whereas Peter was naturally hopeless. When he’d first gotten hold of the thing, he’d immediately professed his love for it, and the Marauders jumped on the opportunity at tearing him apart for it afterwards. Remus had to admit, it was fun, though he wasn’t quite as ruthless as his two fellow Marauders. And he knew better than to call the thing it in Sirius’ presence. As much as he disapproved of motorbikes, let alone those that had been enchanted to fly (for Remus was not overly fond of heights), he had to give Sirius credit for the effort. Besides, it was by far preferable to hear Sirius talk passionately about his motorbike and its shiny veneer rather than the alternative. It kept him occupied, entertained, and when he spoke of the bike Sirius could be quite the poet. The truth of the matter was, Remus couldn’t help but take a liking to anything that moved Sirius as much as that hunk of metal had. In Sirius’ absence, Remus had felt compelled to ensure its safety once or twice, for Sirius would surely know if he were lying and said he’d checked up on it whilst he’d been gone if he hadn’t. It was exactly as Sirius had left it, the same few scratches here and there from when Sirius had run into the odd bird, still possessing that odour of petrol mixed with something metallic. “You’re going to have to take her out for a ride however. I don’t think she’s forgiven you for leaving her with the likes of me. Dreadfully boring, all I do is recite poetry and drink tea, apparently.” Remus’ smile widened before he drained the last of his firewhiskey. It occurred to him that despite the teasing of his words, Sirius may just take them more seriously than he intended. Remus wouldn’t quite forgive the bike if it were to rob him of Sirius so soon. 

Firewhiskey & Padfoots || Sirius & Remus 

sirius-padfootblack:

Sirius watched Remus as he stood to get some chocolate, regret splayed across his features. It wasn’t his choice to miss full moons; it never had been. In fact, it had always been his wish to be able to make it to every transformation since he had mastered becoming an Animagus. Of course, he had been forced to miss transformations during the summers while at school, and he had received only a few detentions on the evenings of full moons. Even then, he had usually managed to make it to the Shack before too long. Part of Sirius’ motivation for insisting that Remus live with him, although it was certainly a very small part, had been so that he could ensure he was always there if his friend needed him. Sirius had always felt a desire to protect those around him, those he was closest to. It stemmed from his need to protect Regulus from the wrath of their mother when they had been small, but it had grown into this burning desire, this burning need to keep those he cared about safe. Of course, that desire had only increased tenfold upon discovering Remus’ secret back in their second year. That desire had fueled his goal to master the skill of becoming an Animagus; it was the only way they could help Remus through the nights that often left him scarred and battered the morning after. Missing a full moon left Sirius feeling guilty now that he didn’t have to miss them, especially when Remus had received a new scar. Even though Remus didn’t need his company since the potion kept him in his own mind, Sirius still felt that he should be there. Perhaps it was a way in which to hold on to what it had been like at school; Sirius couldn’t say for sure what compelled him to be there during the full moons anymore.

Sirius’ eyes flicked down to Remus’ covered thigh, imagining how bad the scar that lurked beneath the cloth might be. While he hated that the wolf ripped at Remus’ flesh, leaving its marks months after month, he couldn’t bring himself to hate Remus’ scars. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Sirius was rather fond of Remus’ scars. They were the physical embodiment of everything Remus denied about himself time and time again. They showed his strength, his bravery, that he could endure such a torture each month and still be as he was; that he could remain good and pure despite the curse that lurked beneath. Sirius had always been a bit jealous, not because Remus had scars but because they were every part of Remus that Sirius could never hope to be. Sirius had long ago accepted that he would never be as brave or as strong or as good as Remus always had been. He didn’t mind admitting that to himself, although he was sure that if he ever spoke the words aloud Remus would shoot them down quicker than one could say Quidditch. Sirius looked up at Remus’ face, offering a small smile. “I could always make up a story, Moony. I’m rather good at it, if you haven’t noticed,” he replied fondly. Of course he could make up a brilliant story, for he could easily see that which would qualify as heroic in Remus better than Remus ever had been able to. Sirius reached for the bottle of firewhiskey, pouring himself another glass; after missions, it was easiest to just lose himself in the effects of the amber liquid. It cleared his mind, allowing for him to relax more completely than he ever could without.

Leaning back against the sofa, Sirius continued to sip his firewhiskey silently for a few moments. “Was it really that bad?” he asked quietly, breaking the silence that had settled between them. It had been some time since Remus had given himself a new scar. At least two transformations since the last one, if Sirius remembered correctly. Remus had smaller scratches after each transformation, but he hadn’t gotten a considerble scar in a while. Sirius had come to learn that that meant that something had been bothering Remus. The transformations were always worse when he was under stress or experiencing some kind of emotional turmoil, the worst one notably being the one after the Prank in their sixth year. The wolf had turned on Padfoot, taking out any anger that had been left unspoken on him. The morning after had been rough for the both of them, but it ultimately led to their fixing things completely, whereas before that particular full moon apologies had been given and accepted although the problem had not been truly resolved. Sirius sighed softly as he set his glass back down on the small coffee table, grabbing his unfinished bar of chocolate instead. He bit a large piece off of the sweet, not bothering to eat it slowly anymore. “I’m sorry I had to miss it,” Sirius added after another moment. “I never want to, but the bloody missions…d’you think I can request the full moon off or something? I mean, I’m sure Dumbledore knows. Or he’d understand, at least. I just…I hate missing them, Moony.” Sirius took another bite of his chocolate, finishing off his first bar. He tossed the empty wrapped back onto the coffee table before he looked back over at Remus, an apologetic expression on his tired face. “I know you don’t need me, what with the potion and all, but I dunno know…I’d really rather be here for them,” he continued with a casual shrug of his shoulders. Sirius hadn’t voiced his want to be there during transformations since they had been back at school. He hadn’t had a need to once Remus had accepted that they were going to join him no matter what. Even now, he didn’t really need to say it; he simply felt as if he should.

Remus felt the colour rise in his cheeks as Sirius spoke. It meant something that he wanted to be there, that he continuously wanted to be there until this day. At Hogwarts, it was easy not to think too much into it. They were younger then, reckless, and neither of them knew what was good for them. Besides, it was so painfully obvious that Remus needed Sirius back then; James and Peter too. Remus had less control in those days, and whereas that meant he should have outright refused the Marauders to ever come to the Shrieking Shack on a full moon, he couldn’t. Not only did he lack control on a full moon, but he couldn’t keep himself from needing his friends either, no matter how dangerous it was for them to see the night out alongside him. Remus was ashamed of how he often welcomed Sirius’ presence in particular, out of a selfish want to feel some relief from the tumultuous rush of emotions that accompanied the full moon. It proved vastly more dangerous than either of them could have ever estimated; they’d discovered that an animagus couldn’t be infected with the curse, though it should never have come to that. The wolf, Remus even, had taken things out on Sirius whereas he never would have had rational thinking not been beyond him. He’d left Sirius bloody and blue, beaten to a pulp. The same had been dealt him, however Remus was used to it. Such was merely inevitable, to an extent. Sirius wasn’t mistaken; how Remus was feeling before a full moon definitely affected how the transformation would play out. If he was angry about something, it became harder to deny. Such was strikingly obvious before the Wolfsbane potion was invented, but it remained prevalent today. Remus had spoken too quickly. Had he realised Sirius would have picked up on this, he might not have disclosed that little bit of information about the new scar. It wasn’t anything too severe. It was perhaps one of his more ugly scars. But it was only one amongst many, nothing out of the ordinary. There were more important things to worry about in the present moment, like Sirius’ needless babbling.

“Sirius,” Remus said quietly, leaning forward slightly so as to impress upon Sirius that he really didn’t need to say any of these words. Yet as true as that was, he couldn’t deny that it filled him with a certain rush of affection towards Sirius, one that had always been there yet had resurfaced as he was reminded of how amazing Sirius Black really could be. A smile played on his lips, but he suppressed it, sensing the situation was too delicate for any open sign of emotion, for Remus at least. There was a fine line in their friendship that Remus found himself ever more compelled to cross.  “I’m almost certain Dumbledore knows. But as understanding as he is, I don’t think you can put off missions just for the full moon. After all, the Death Eaters won’t. Besides, I couldn’t forgive myself if I robbed the Wizarding world of their most daring warrior.” Remus sat back, breaking another piece off the chocolate bar he still held in his hands before setting the rest to one side on the coffee table. Yet he paused before bringing it to his lips. “I can take care of myself. It’s not like it was, you know that as well as I do.” Remus hadn’t so much as scratched Sirius since the Wolfsbane potion had come into use. That was something he was forever grateful for; back at school, it pained him to see what he’d done to Sirius, yet nothing had ever changed. Remus needed Sirius too much to turn him away, not that he didn’t try. It was the first time he’d shouted at Sirius, when he had left a monstrous bruise on his should after one of their first full moons together. Of course that had only been the start of their troubles; worse was yet to come. Equally, Remus had always sensed that Sirius needed him. Sirius needed to protect those he cared for, and Remus was ecstatic that he was included amongst them. In Remus’ desire for friendship, he had been reckless with the wellbeing of the very friends he’d treasured.  

“I still need you.” Remus’ eyes chanced a glance at Sirius, yet he was unable to hold his gaze, as much as he might have wanted to. There was something comforting about the stormy depths of Sirius’ eyes.  They were a mere shadow of the depths that they concealed, yet Remus felt he knew Sirius as well as anyone could. Being in the company of Sirius had always been unique. Remus could say things like this, and whereas Sirius would sometimes laugh and call him a girl or utter some dig about him writing a journal, Remus said them for a reason. Something compelled him to say these particular words; he almost felt they were welcome, despite the painful honesty they possessed.  Yet equally, Sirius knew Remus far more than he was ever comfortable with. At certain points in their friendship, Remus felt he couldn’t meet those eyes for fear that Sirius would see exactly that which he could never see. In some way or other, Remus depended on the man far more than he should have, far more than he ever depended on James or Peter. Sirius was severely mistaken if he thought Remus didn’t need him, if he believed the Wolfsbane potion satisfied his every need. Remus’ eyes settled on the chocolate that was beginning to melt between his fingertips, his eyebrows twitching out of discomfort at the unexpected honesty of his words. “But.. don’t you think the rest of the world needs you more?” Remus popped the chocolate into his mouth before he could utter another word, licking the chocolate from his fingers. 

Werewolf - Cat Power