Work Text:
At Hogwarts, rumors didn’t merely spread—they exploded. A single misinterpreted glance, a whispered word in the wrong place, or a curious passerby with too much imagination could ignite a firestorm of speculation that no amount of truth could extinguish. This time, the spark had been struck in the Gryffindor common room on a perfectly ordinary Wednesday morning.
Remus Lupin, as usual, was tucked away in his favorite armchair by the fire, surrounded by a fortress of books. Across from him, Lily Evans sat cross-legged on the floor, parchment scattered around her as she scribbled notes furiously. Every so often, she would pause to consult Remus, her quill tapping rhythmically against her chin.
“You think simplifying the wand movement will really work?” Lily asked, tilting her head in consideration as she studied her essay.
“Definitely,” Remus replied, setting down the book he’d been reading. “Flitwick loves precision. He’ll appreciate the finesse more than the theatrics. Besides, you’ve already nailed the fundamentals.”
Lily’s lips curved into a warm smile. “You’re a lifesaver, Lupin.”
Remus merely shrugged, faintly amused. “That’s what Prefects are for, I suppose.”
It was an entirely innocent scene. No stolen glances, no lingering touches, no whispered confessions. And yet, to the sharp-eyed second-year who passed by at just the wrong moment, it looked like something far more tantalizing. After all, Remus and Lily were sitting so close, their heads nearly touching as they exchanged quiet, thoughtful words. The second-year scurried away, wide-eyed with excitement, ready to deliver Hogwarts its latest piece of scandalous gossip.
By lunchtime, the castle was alive with chatter. Everywhere Lily and Remus went, they found themselves the recipients of poorly concealed smirks and not-so-subtle whispers. Yet, blissfully unaware, they carried on as usual, completely oblivious to the wildfire spreading in their wake.
In the boys’ dormitory, however, the rumor was already stirring trouble.
Peter Pettigrew burst into the room, his grin wide and wicked. “Have you heard the news?” he asked, practically bouncing on his toes as he closed the door behind him.
“News?” James Potter asked lazily from his bed, tossing a Quaffle into the air and catching it with ease.
“Oh, you’ll love this,” Peter said, his voice dripping with glee. “Apparently, Lily Evans and Remus are dating.”
The Quaffle slipped through James’s fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud . He sat upright, his eyebrows furrowing. “What?”
Peter shrugged, his grin growing wider. “Everyone’s saying it. Saw them in the common room this morning, all cozy and whispering to each other. You know how these things start.”
“Rubbish,” James muttered, but the flicker of doubt in his voice betrayed him. “They’re just friends. Prefect stuff, probably.”
But Peter’s words lingered. James had spent years trying—and failing—to capture Lily’s attention, and the idea that she might suddenly be interested in one of his best friends gnawed at him. He paced the room, the beginnings of a plan to win her back already forming in his mind.
On the other side of the room, Sirius Black rolled onto his side, feigning disinterest. “Remus and Evans? Don’t make me laugh,” he said with a scoff.
But Sirius couldn’t stop the uneasy feeling bubbling in his chest. The idea of Remus, his quiet, steady friend, keeping something like this from him stung in a way he didn’t care to examine too closely. He shoved the thought aside, chalking it up to concern over the group dynamic. Still, he resolved to keep an eye on Remus—not that he’d admit it to anyone.
Neither Sirius nor James realized just how much that rumor would dig its claws into them—or how it would tip their lives into chaos. Because at Hogwarts, a misunderstanding was never just a misunderstanding. It was a spark, and in the right—or wrong—conditions, it could become a wildfire that no one could control.
Peter Pettigrew’s voice still echoed in James Potter’s mind as he stormed down the stairs leading back to the Gryffindor common room. “Lily and Remus? Dating?” The words didn’t make sense, yet the image Peter had painted—a cozy conversation by the fire, their heads close together—gnawed at him.
Sirius Black followed closely behind, his usual swagger subdued. “You’re not seriously buying into that nonsense, are you?” he asked, though his tone lacked its usual teasing edge.
James didn’t answer, his fists clenched as he reached the bottom of the staircase. He was about to respond when he froze, his jaw tightening at the sight before him.
There, in the center of the common room, Lily Evans and Remus Lupin were dancing.
The firelight cast a warm glow around them as Lily guided Remus in slow, swaying movements. Her hand rested on his shoulder, her other hand clasped in his, while his free hand hovered nervously at her waist. Lily was laughing, her eyes bright as she twirled him gently, and even Remus seemed to have relaxed, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
James’s stomach twisted.
“What in Merlin’s name…” he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.
Beside him, Sirius raised an eyebrow, his expression carefully neutral. “Looks like they’re… practicing?” he suggested, though his tone was clipped.
“I don’t see why they’d need to practice that ,” James snapped, his frustration spilling over.
Unaware of their audience, Lily’s voice carried softly across the room. “See? You’re not hopeless, Rem. You’re getting it!”
Remus chuckled. “Only because you’re doing most of the work.”
“Nonsense,” she teased, spinning him once more.
James had seen enough. Without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed back up the staircase, his footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet.
Sirius lingered for a moment longer, watching the pair with a mixture of emotions he couldn’t quite name. Then, shaking his head, he followed James upstairs.
“Do you see now?” James hissed the moment Sirius caught up. “Peter was right. They’re—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Sirius interrupted sharply. “We don’t know what they’re doing.”
“I know enough,” James shot back. His voice dropped as he added bitterly, “I’ve spent years trying to get Lily to look at me like that, and now…”
Sirius didn’t respond. He couldn’t, because the pang of jealousy he’d been ignoring since Peter’s announcement was now louder than ever.
Back in the common room, Lily and Remus finally stopped dancing, neither realizing the storm they had just danced their way into.
The following Saturday, the Marauders found themselves gathered in the Gryffindor common room, a tense silence hanging in the air. Peter had vanished to parts unknown—likely the kitchens—leaving James and Sirius brooding in their respective corners while Remus leaned against the window, a book in his hand and a crease of confusion on his brow.
The reason for the tension? The scene James and Sirius had stumbled upon earlier that afternoon.
James hadn’t meant to look for Lily, but he had been wandering the grounds with Sirius when he spotted her bright hair under the shade of a tree near the Black Lake. Sitting across from her was Remus, an open basket between them, both of them laughing about something neither James nor Sirius could hear.
James’s jaw had tightened as his grip on his broomstick flexed. “Seriously?” he had muttered, though Sirius had only raised an eyebrow, his silence doing nothing to calm James’s growing ire.
Now, back in the common room, James flicked through his Quidditch playbook with far more force than necessary, his knuckles white as he avoided looking at Remus. Sirius sprawled across the couch and absentmindedly tossed an apple into the air, his usual smirk replaced by an uncharacteristically distant expression.
“Alright,” Remus finally said, snapping his book shut and standing. “Are you two going to tell me what’s going on, or are we all just pretending this isn’t the most awkward afternoon of our lives?”
James didn’t answer, his eyes fixed stubbornly on the playbook. Sirius caught the apple one last time and sat up, meeting Remus’s gaze with a sharpness that made him flinch.
“I don’t know, Moony,” Sirius said, his tone light but his words cutting. “Maybe you’re too busy to notice. Picnics and all.”
Remus blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Lily,” James bit out, slamming the playbook shut and finally looking at Remus. “By the lake. Laughing. Sharing food. What’s next, a public declaration?”
Realization dawned on Remus, and his confusion turned to exasperation. “That? Are you upset about that? Lily and I were studying together—she insisted on bringing food because she said fresh air would help me focus.”
“Oh, how considerate of her,” James muttered darkly, his jealousy radiating off him in waves.
Remus’s brows knit together. “James, you know I’m not—”
“Do I?” James interrupted, standing abruptly. “Because lately, it feels like there’s a lot I don’t know. Like how my best mate decided to keep this… whatever it is… a secret.”
“There is nothing to keep secret!” Remus protested, his voice rising slightly. “Lily and I aren’t—”
Sirius snorted, cutting him off. “Sure looks like it, mate. The two of you whispering in the common room, dancing by the fire, and now a cozy little picnic?”
Remus stared at Sirius, hurt flashing across his face. “I can’t believe this. You two, of all people, should know me better than this. Lily is a friend. That’s it.”
“Funny,” James said coldly, grabbing his broomstick and heading for the portrait hole. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
Sirius followed suit, tossing the apple aside and rising to his feet. He didn’t look at Remus as he passed, his voice low and clipped. “Maybe you should think about how it looks, Moony.”
The door swung shut behind them, leaving Remus standing alone in the now-empty common room. He let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, the sting of their coldness settling in his chest.
For years, the Marauders had been his brothers, his anchor in the turbulent waters of life. But now, over a misunderstanding he couldn’t seem to fix, they were slipping away—and he didn’t know how to stop it.
Remus found Lily in the library, tucked away in a quiet corner surrounded by stacks of books and a half-empty teacup. She was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment, her hair falling in a loose curtain around her face. She didn’t notice him at first, so he stood awkwardly for a moment, clearing his throat to catch her attention.
She looked up, her green eyes lighting up in recognition. “Oh, Remus! Hi. What brings you here? Need help with something?”
“Sort of,” he replied, taking the seat across from her. His voice was quieter than usual, hesitant.
Lily tilted her head, studying him with mild concern. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s wrong?”
Remus took a deep breath, his hands fiddling with the corner of the book he’d brought with him. “Have you… heard any rumors about us lately?”
Her brow furrowed, and she set her quill down. “Rumors? About us?”
He nodded, avoiding her gaze. “Apparently, the entire school thinks we’re… dating.”
Lily froze for a moment, then burst into laughter. It wasn’t a polite chuckle or a restrained giggle—it was a full, belly-deep laugh that echoed in the quiet library.
Remus blinked at her, his ears turning pink. “I’m glad you find this so amusing.”
“I’m sorry,” Lily said, trying to stifle her laughter with little success. “It’s just—us? Really? Where on earth did that come from?”
He shrugged, finally managing a small smile of his own. “It started after that morning in the common room. You know, when we were working on Flitwick’s assignment together. Apparently, sitting too close to you is enough to spark a scandal.”
Lily rolled her eyes, though her lips were still twitching with amusement. “Unbelievable. Honestly, people at this school are worse than the Daily Prophet when it comes to gossip.”
“That’s not all,” Remus added, his tone turning more serious. “It’s causing… issues. With James and Sirius.”
Her laughter faded, replaced by a concerned frown. “What do you mean?”
“They think it’s true,” he admitted, his voice low. “James is jealous, obviously. And Sirius—well, I don’t know what his problem is, but he’s been distant. Cold, even.”
Remus didn’t mention the way Sirius’s coldness hurt more than James’s jealousy. He didn’t tell Lily about the countless moments when he’d found himself watching Sirius—how his sharp wit and effortless charm had drawn him in long before he’d been able to admit to himself what it meant. And he certainly didn’t explain how Sirius’s distant behavior now felt like a knife twisting in his chest, because that was a truth he hadn’t even fully come to terms with.
Lily tilted her head slightly, her expression softening as if she could see through the gaps in what he wasn’t saying. “You care about what Sirius thinks, don’t you?”
Remus’s eyes widened slightly, and he quickly looked down, pretending to adjust his book. “I care about what all of you think,” he muttered.
“Hmm,” Lily said, not pressing further. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Well, you’d think they’d trust you enough to know better.”
“I thought so too,” Remus said with a sigh. “But you know how James feels about you, and Sirius… I think he’s just upset that I didn’t tell him about this ‘relationship’ I’m apparently hiding.”
Lily shook her head, frustration flashing in her eyes. “This is absurd. You’ve done nothing wrong, Remus. Neither have I. Why should we have to tiptoe around just because people can’t keep their imaginations in check?”
“I know,” he said quietly. “But it’s not just them. Everywhere I go, people are whispering or giving me knowing looks. It’s like the entire school has decided who I am without bothering to ask.”
Lily reached across the table, placing a comforting hand on his. “We’ll fix this. I’ll talk to James—set him straight. And if I have to stand on a table in the Great Hall and announce to everyone that we’re not a couple, so be it.”
Remus chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. “You’d really do that?”
“Of course I would,” she said with a determined smile. “You’re my friend, Remus, and I’m not going to let some silly rumors ruin that—or your friendship with James and Sirius.”
He looked at her, gratitude softening his expression. “Thanks, Lily. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She grinned, squeezing his hand before pulling away. “You’d probably be hiding in the library, avoiding people even more than usual.”
Remus laughed, but as the tension in his chest eased slightly, he couldn’t help the ache that lingered. As much as he wanted to set things right with James and Sirius, the thought of Sirius being angry—or worse, indifferent—toward him felt like a deeper loss than he wanted to admit.
The tension in Gryffindor Tower was palpable, and Remus felt like it was going to suffocate him. It had been nearly a week since the rumors started, and though he and Lily had tried to ignore them at first, the fallout was impossible to dismiss. Everywhere they went, whispers followed.
“Do you think it’s true? Remus and Lily? I heard they were seen sneaking out of the library together.”
“They’d make such a sweet couple, don’t you think? He’s so quiet, and she’s so... vibrant.”
“What about James? He must be furious!”
Remus had overheard variations of the same conversations all week. Each time, he felt his stomach churn. It wasn’t just the rumors that were getting to him—it was the way they affected the people closest to him.
James had gone from his usual boisterous self to icy silence whenever Remus was near. Sirius had been even worse. He hadn’t outright confronted Remus, but his casual jabs had been replaced by pointed remarks, and the warmth that usually radiated from him was now a frigid wall.
And then there was Peter, the only one who seemed more entertained by the situation than upset. “Well, Moony,” he had said with a mischievous grin over breakfast a few days earlier, “you’ve certainly stirred up some drama. Who knew you were such a heartbreaker?”
Remus had scowled, but the comment had only added to his frustration. He wasn’t a heartbreaker, and he wasn’t sneaking around with Lily. He couldn’t understand why no one—least of all his friends—seemed to believe him.
By the time Friday morning rolled around, the weight of it all had become unbearable. He’d barely slept the night before, lying awake in his four-poster bed as the muffled sounds of James and Sirius’s late-night conversation filtered through the curtains. Whatever they’d been discussing, it hadn’t included him.
When he finally made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, he found Lily already waiting for him at the Gryffindor table. She was reading a book, her red hair catching the morning sunlight streaming in through the enchanted ceiling.
“You look terrible,” she said without looking up as he slid onto the bench across from her.
“Thanks,” he muttered, reaching for a slice of toast. “You always know how to cheer me up.”
She closed her book and raised an eyebrow at him. “Still no progress with James or Sirius?”
Remus shook his head. “James won’t talk to me unless he has to. And Sirius... I don’t even know what’s going on with him. It’s like I don’t exist anymore.”
Lily sighed, her expression softening. “They’ll come around, Remus. They just need to get over themselves.”
“Easier said than done,” he replied. He tore off a piece of toast and chewed it mechanically, his appetite almost nonexistent.
Across the Hall, James and Sirius were sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table, deep in conversation. James looked tense, his hands gesturing emphatically as he spoke. Sirius, on the other hand, wore his usual mask of nonchalance, but Remus could see the tightness in his jaw and the way his eyes flicked toward him and Lily every so often.
“Honestly,” Lily said, following his gaze, “this has gone on long enough.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she said, pushing her plate aside, “that this ridiculous rumor needs to stop. It’s causing more problems than it’s worth.”
Remus sighed. “Lily, I don’t think there’s much we can do. People believe what they want to believe.”
Lily leaned forward, her green eyes blazing with determination. “Maybe you’re willing to sit back and let this nonsense ruin your friendships, but I’m not. Come on.”
“Come on?” he echoed, confused.
She stood up, straightening her robes. “If the school wants a spectacle, I’ll give them one.”
“Lily, wait—” But she was already climbing onto the bench, her voice ringing out across the Great Hall.
“Excuse me, everyone!”
And just like that, the quiet hum of morning chatter vanished, replaced by a stunned silence as every eye in the Hall turned toward her.
Remus’s heart sank as he watched her command the attention of the room. He wasn’t sure whether to admire her bravery or dread what she was about to do. Either way, there was no turning back now.
The buzz of conversation that had filled the space moments ago died down entirely. Students from all four houses turned to look at her, wide-eyed. Even the teachers paused their conversations at the staff table, curiosity etched on their faces.
James, seated farther down the Gryffindor table with Sirius, froze mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air.
Lily straightened her back and raised her voice. “I’d like to clear up a rumor that’s been spreading around this castle for the past week. No, Remus Lupin and I are not dating.”
A murmur rippled through the room, a mix of gasps and incredulous whispers.
“We’re friends,” Lily continued, placing a hand on her hip. “That’s all. So, if anyone else wants to spread baseless gossip, kindly stop wasting your energy and find a better hobby.”
Sirius raised an eyebrow, leaning toward James. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”
James, who had been gripping his fork like a weapon moments earlier, visibly relaxed.
But Lily wasn’t finished. She reached down, pulling Remus to his feet despite his flushed face and muttered protests. “And if you don’t believe me, let me prove it. I’ll show you why Remus Lupin would never, ever , date me.”
Remus’s eyes widened. “Lily, what are you—”
Before he could finish, she turned to him with a teasing smile. “Remus, I need you to answer this honestly. Do you think I’m attractive?”
Remus sputtered, his cheeks reddening further as laughter rippled through the crowd. “I—well—you’re—”
“Exactly,” Lily said, cutting him off with a triumphant grin. She turned back to the crowd. “Remus Lupin is so polite, he’d combust before admitting anything personal in public. Trust me, he’s not sneaking off to profess undying love to me.”
The Hall erupted into laughter, and Remus shot her a look that was half-exasperated, half-amused.
“Now,” Lily said, hopping down from the bench. “Can we all move on with our lives?”
As the chatter in the Hall resumed and the weight of the stares dissipated, Remus sat back down, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable, Evans.”
“Thank you,” she said brightly, reclaiming her seat.
Farther down the table, James glanced at Sirius, his tension visibly easing. “She really isn’t dating him,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
Sirius smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Told you.”
But James kept watching Remus, who was now shaking his head at Lily as she teased him about his flushed cheeks. A small frown tugged at his lips. “Still… I don’t think I’ve ever seen them laugh like that together. I don’t even make her laugh like that.”
Sirius groaned, tipping his head back. “Merlin’s beard, Prongs, it’s not a competition. You fancy her; he doesn’t. End of story.”
James turned away, the frown lingering as he stabbed at his eggs. “Yeah, fine. End of story.”
Back at the center of the table, Lily nudged Remus’s shoulder with her own. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Remus gave her a long look. “I’m pretty sure my soul left my body for a moment there.”
She laughed, patting his hand. “Relax. I think it worked. The rumors should die down now.”
Remus hummed noncommittally, his gaze drifting to where Sirius and James were seated. Sirius caught his eye for the briefest of moments before looking away, his smirk replaced by a thoughtful expression. James, on the other hand, still seemed to be sulking.
Lily followed his gaze and sighed. “They’ll come around, Remus. Give them time.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his heart sinking as he watched Sirius push his plate aside and stand, heading toward the door without a backward glance.
Even as the laughter in the Hall surrounded them, Remus couldn’t shake the feeling that proving he wasn’t dating Lily wasn’t enough to fix the cracks in their group—or the ache in his chest whenever Sirius looked at him like he was a stranger.
The library was nearly empty, the warm glow of the lanterns casting soft shadows on the rows of bookshelves. It was late in the evening, the perfect time for Remus to disappear into the quiet and try to sort out his jumbled thoughts. He’d chosen a secluded corner near the Restricted Section, hoping for solitude, but he should have known better.
“Remus Lupin,” Lily’s voice broke the silence, sharp and unwavering.
He looked up from his book, startled. Lily stood at the end of the aisle, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.
“Lily?” he asked hesitantly, closing his book. “What are you doing here?”
She marched toward him, her green eyes narrowing. “We need to talk.”
He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I think we’ve done enough talking for one week, don’t you?”
“Oh, no,” she said, sitting down across from him and placing her elbows on the table. “This isn’t about the rumors. This is about you.”
Remus frowned. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” she said firmly. “Specifically, about why you’ve been acting like a lovesick idiot around Sirius Black.”
Remus froze, his breath catching in his throat. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t even try that with me, Lupin,” she said, leaning closer. “You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are. I’ve seen the way you look at him. And before you try to deny it, let me remind you that I’ve been friends with James Potter for years. I know what unspoken feelings look like.”
Remus opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. He could feel his cheeks burning, and he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on a spot on the table.
“Remus,” Lily said softly, her tone shifting. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it doesn’t matter,” he muttered, still avoiding her gaze. “It’s not like anything will come of it.”
“That’s not the point,” she said. “You’ve been carrying this around all by yourself, and it’s clearly eating you alive.”
He shook his head, his fingers fidgeting with the corner of his book. “What would telling you have done? It’s not like it changes anything.”
Lily reached across the table, placing her hand over his. “It changes that you don’t have to go through this alone. Remus, I’m your friend. And whether you like it or not, I can see how much this is affecting you.”
He swallowed hard, finally looking up at her. Her expression was gentle, free of the teasing she usually wielded like a weapon.
“I just...” He hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to ruin things. Sirius and I are friends. That’s all he sees me as, and that’s fine. I can live with that.”
Lily raised an eyebrow. “Can you? Because from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look like you’re doing much living at all.”
Remus let out a bitter laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It’s not simple,” she admitted. “But it’s also not as impossible as you think. Sirius isn’t as thick as James. He’d notice if something was wrong.”
“Not with me,” Remus said, his voice trembling. “He’s too busy charming everyone else in the castle. Why would he waste his time trying to figure me out?”
Lily’s eyes softened, and she leaned back in her chair. “Remus, you’re one of the best people I know. If Sirius can’t see that, then that’s his loss. But you’re never going to know what he thinks if you keep shutting everyone out.”
Remus sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Well,” she said with a small smile, “how about you start by admitting it out loud? Just once.”
He hesitated, his chest tightening. Then, after a long pause, he whispered, “I like Sirius.”
“There,” Lily said, her smile widening. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
“It’s terrifying,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “And now I feel even worse.”
Lily laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re impossible, Lupin. But you’re also braver than you think. When you’re ready, tell him. Until then, stop beating yourself up over something you can’t control.”
Remus nodded, a small spark of gratitude warming his chest. “Thanks, Lily.”
“Anytime,” she said, standing up. She hesitated for a moment, then added with a smirk, “And for the record, if Sirius doesn’t realize how lucky he’d be to have you, he’s even thicker than James.”
Remus couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound lightening the heaviness he’d been carrying. As Lily walked away, he felt a strange sense of relief settle over him. He wasn’t sure what would happen next, but for the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel completely alone.
Later that evening, Remus sat in the Gryffindor common room, the warm fire crackling in the hearth as shadows danced across the walls. The room was quieter than usual, most students having already retired to their dormitories. Only a handful of people remained, scattered across the plush armchairs and sofas.
Remus was perched in his usual spot by the window, his knees tucked up to his chest as he stared out at the snow-covered grounds. The conversation with Lily lingered in his mind, her words repeating like an echo he couldn’t shake.
“I like Sirius,” he’d admitted, and even now, the weight of those words still pressed on his chest.
Across the room, James and Sirius sat together on the couch, a chessboard between them. James looked unusually focused, his brow furrowed as he planned his next move. Sirius, on the other hand, leaned back with a carefree smirk, twirling a pawn between his fingers like he wasn’t the least bit concerned about the game—or anything else.
Remus’s gaze lingered on him longer than he intended, tracing the sharp line of Sirius’s jaw, the way the firelight caught in his dark hair, and the easy confidence in his posture. He quickly looked away when Sirius’s head turned, his heart pounding in his chest.
The scrape of wood against stone pulled his attention as Lily entered the room, pausing at the entrance with a pointed look in his direction. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head toward Sirius and James, her meaning clear: You need to talk to them.
Remus swallowed hard, shaking his head ever so slightly. Lily sighed dramatically, throwing up her hands before sauntering over to Sirius and James, dropping herself onto the arm of their couch.
“Alright, you two,” she said loudly enough for the whole room to hear, her voice cutting through the quiet. “This nonsense has gone on long enough.”
James looked up, startled. “What’re you on about, Evans?”
Lily pointed a finger at him, then at Sirius. “You. And you. And this ridiculous cold shoulder you’ve been giving Remus.”
Sirius snorted, leaning back further. “We’re not giving him the cold shoulder.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Lily shot back. She turned to James, her expression softening just slightly. “You two are supposed to be his best friends. Instead of talking to him, you’ve been acting like petulant children.”
James’s ears turned red, and he opened his mouth to respond, but Lily cut him off. “No excuses, Potter. Fix it. Now.”
With that, she stood up and turned on her heel, shooting Remus one last knowing glance before heading upstairs to the girls’ dormitory.
Sirius and James exchanged an awkward look before their gazes drifted toward Remus, who was still frozen by the window, every muscle in his body tense.
“Well,” Sirius said finally, breaking the silence. “I suppose we should have a chat then, Moony.”
James nodded, standing up and motioning for Sirius to follow. “Come on. Let’s take this somewhere private.”
Remus hesitated, glancing around the room at the few remaining students who were trying (and failing) to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. With a resigned sigh, he stood and followed his friends toward the stairs to the boys’ dormitory, his stomach twisting with a mixture of dread and anticipation.
As the door to their room closed behind them, the tension in the air became almost unbearable. Remus took a deep breath, bracing himself for whatever came next.
The familiar four-poster beds loomed around them, their heavy curtains half-drawn as if trying to offer some privacy for what was about to unfold. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting flickering shadows across the room.
James plopped onto his bed, running a hand through his messy hair, while Sirius leaned against the wall near the window, his arms crossed. Remus stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting for one of them to say something.
It was James who broke the silence. “Alright, Moony. Spill it.”
Remus blinked. “Spill what?”
James gave him a pointed look. “You know what. The whole school’s been buzzing about you and Lily for weeks, and you haven’t said a word to us about it. We’re your best mates, for Merlin’s sake.”
Remus frowned. “And you thought giving me the silent treatment was the best way to handle that?”
James flushed slightly, glancing at Sirius for backup. Sirius, however, didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he was staring out the window, his jaw tight.
“Look,” James said, his tone softening, “we didn’t know what to think. You and Lily—well, it seemed like it could be true, and you weren’t exactly denying it.”
“I did deny it,” Remus snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I told you both that it wasn’t true, but neither of you listened. Instead, you acted like I’d betrayed you.”
James shifted uncomfortably, guilt flickering across his face. “Alright, maybe we didn’t handle it well. But you have to admit, it looked suspicious. You and Lily sneaking off together, having picnics, dancing in empty classrooms—”
“That was her idea, ” Remus interrupted, throwing his hands up. “She wanted to help me practice for the Winter’s Dance. There’s nothing going on between us!”
“And what about the picnic?” Sirius finally spoke, his voice low and strained.
Remus turned to him, his heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gray eyes. “The picnic was Lily’s way of trying to cheer me up because she knew how miserable I was. Nothing more.”
Sirius’s expression didn’t soften. “You could’ve told us.”
“I tried, ” Remus said, his voice cracking. “But you were too busy glaring at me from across the room or making snide comments to give me a chance.”
James rubbed the back of his neck, looking thoroughly chastised. “Alright, Moony. We messed up. We should’ve trusted you.”
Remus let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right. You should have. But I get it, James. You’ve had feelings for Lily forever, and seeing us together probably hurt. I didn’t mean for it to, and I’m sorry.”
James’s face softened, and he nodded. “Thanks, mate.”
Remus hesitated, his gaze shifting to Sirius, who was still leaning against the wall, his expression unreadable. “What about you?”
Sirius shrugged, his tone unusually clipped. “What about me?”
“Why have you been avoiding me?” Remus asked, his voice quieter now, almost fragile.
For a moment, Sirius didn’t answer. Then he pushed off the wall, his movements tense. “Maybe I didn’t like seeing my best friend spending all his time with someone else. Maybe it felt like I was being replaced.”
Remus’s chest tightened, and he took a cautious step forward. “Sirius, you’re not being replaced. You could never be replaced.”
Sirius’s eyes finally met his, and for a brief moment, the tension between them seemed to crackle like static. “Then why didn’t you tell me the truth from the start?”
“Because I didn’t know how,” Remus admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And because... I didn’t want you to think I—” He stopped himself, the words catching in his throat.
Sirius tilted his head, his brows furrowing. “Didn’t want me to think what?”
Remus hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced at James, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes, clearly sensing that this was no longer his conversation to be part of.
“I didn’t want you to think I was hiding something more important,” Remus said finally, his cheeks burning. “Something I wasn’t ready to talk about.”
Sirius studied him for a long moment, his gaze searching. Then, to Remus’s surprise, his expression softened, and a small, almost teasing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re a bloody enigma, Moony.”
Remus felt a flicker of relief but also something else—something hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, the walls between them were starting to come down.
James stood, clapping his hands together in an awkward attempt to break the tension. “Well, I think this is my cue to leave. I’ll, uh, be downstairs if anyone needs me.”
He hurried out of the room, leaving Remus and Sirius alone. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken words.
“So,” Sirius said, sitting down on his bed and patting the space beside him. “You want to tell me what’s really going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?”
Remus hesitated, but the warmth in Sirius’s eyes gave him the courage to take a seat. Maybe this was the moment he’d been waiting for.
The dormitory was quiet, the only sounds were the soft crackling of the dying fire in the hearth and the faint rustle of the wind against the windowpanes. Sirius sat cross-legged on his bed, leaning casually against the headboard, but there was a tension in his posture that hadn’t been there moments before.
Remus perched at the edge of the mattress, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He glanced at Sirius, then quickly looked away, his heart pounding in his chest. The words were caught somewhere between his mind and his mouth, and the weight of them made it hard to breathe.
“So,” Sirius said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “What’s really been eating at you, Moony?”
Remus swallowed hard. “It’s not... It’s complicated.”
Sirius tilted his head, his hair falling into his eyes in that effortless way that always made Remus’s stomach do somersaults. “I’ve got time,” he said with a small, teasing smile.
Remus tried to smile back, but it faltered. He let out a shaky breath and looked down at his hands. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about the beginning?” Sirius suggested, his voice softer now.
Remus hesitated, the words tangling in his throat. But then he thought of Lily’s encouragement, her unwavering belief that he could do this, and he forced himself to speak.
“It’s not about Lily,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “It never was.”
Sirius’s brow furrowed. “Alright. Then what is it about?”
Remus clenched his hands together, his knuckles white. “It’s about... why I didn’t tell you. Why I couldn’t tell you.”
Sirius leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. “And why is that?”
“Because I was scared,” Remus admitted, his voice trembling. “Scared of how you’d react. Scared of ruining everything.”
Sirius’s gaze softened, but he didn’t interrupt, letting Remus find his own pace.
Remus took another deep breath, his chest tight. “You mean so much to me, Sirius. You’re not just my friend—you’re... more than that. At least, to me.”
Sirius blinked, the teasing light in his eyes replaced by something more serious, more intense. “More than that?” he echoed, his voice quieter now.
Remus nodded, his throat dry. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t even know if I should. But... I like you, Sirius. I’ve liked you for a long time. And I’ve been terrified that if you found out, you’d hate me for it.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and vulnerable, and for a moment, Sirius didn’t respond. Remus’s heart sank, and he quickly looked away, regretting every syllable.
“I get it,” he said hastily, standing up and backing toward the door. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll just—”
“Wait.”
Sirius’s voice stopped him in his tracks, firm but gentle. Remus turned, his chest tight, and saw Sirius standing now, his expression open and raw in a way Remus had never seen before.
“You think I’d hate you for that?” Sirius asked, taking a step closer.
Remus shrugged, his voice barely audible. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone has.”
Sirius’s jaw tightened, and he closed the distance between them in two quick strides. “Remus,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “I could never hate you. Not for this. Not for anything.”
Remus’s breath hitched as Sirius reached out, his hand hesitating for just a moment before resting gently on Remus’s arm.
“And for the record,” Sirius continued, a small, tentative smile tugging at his lips, “you’re not the only one who’s been scared.”
Remus stared at him, his mind racing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Sirius said, his voice soft but steady, “that I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you the same thing. For months.”
The world seemed to tilt, and Remus blinked, certain he’d misheard. “You... what?”
Sirius chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You’re not exactly subtle, Moony. But then again, neither am I.”
Before Remus could fully process the words, Sirius’s hand slid up to cup his cheek, his touch gentle but sure. Their eyes met, and for the first time in weeks, Remus felt like he could breathe again.
“Is this okay?” Sirius asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Remus nodded, his throat too tight to speak.
Sirius smiled, his thumb brushing lightly against Remus’s cheek. “Good.”
Then, with a tenderness that made Remus’s heartache, Sirius leaned in and kissed him.
It was soft and slow, filled with all the things neither of them had been able to say until now. When they finally pulled apart, Sirius rested his forehead against Remus’s, a quiet laugh escaping him.
“Well,” Sirius said, his voice full of warmth, “I guess we’re both idiots, aren’t we?”
Remus laughed, the sound shaky but genuine. “Yeah. But maybe that’s okay.”
Sirius grinned, pulling him into a tight hug. “More than okay, Moony. It’s perfect.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, Remus let himself believe it might be.
The weeks after their confession felt like a dream—one that Remus was almost afraid to wake from. It wasn’t that everything changed overnight; Sirius still teased him relentlessly, James was still overly dramatic about Quidditch practice, and Peter still had a knack for sneaking food out of the kitchens. But there was a shift, a subtle, unspoken understanding between him and Sirius now.
It was in the way Sirius would brush their hands together when no one was looking, the way his teasing turned softer when it was just the two of them. It was in the way Sirius would glance at him across the common room and flash that dazzling grin that made Remus’s heart race every time.
And somehow, the Winter’s Dance was just around the corner.
The Great Hall had been transformed into a shimmering winter wonderland. Frosted garlands draped across the enchanted ceiling, where soft snowflakes fell and disappeared before they could touch the ground. Candles floated overhead, their warm glow casting a golden light on the students twirling across the dance floor.
Remus leaned against a pillar near the edge of the room, watching James finally convince Lily to dance. The two of them were laughing, Lily’s green dress swirling as James spun her around clumsily but enthusiastically.
“They look good together, don’t they?” Sirius’s voice came from beside him, low and warm.
Remus turned, his chest tightening at the sight of Sirius in his formal robes. He looked effortlessly handsome, his black hair falling into his eyes and a mischievous glint in his smile.
“They do,” Remus admitted, his voice soft.
Sirius tilted his head, his grin turning playful. “Not as good as we do, though.”
Remus rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” Sirius said confidently, holding out a hand. “Dance with me, Moony?”
Remus hesitated, glancing at the crowd. “What if people stare?”
“Let them,” Sirius said, his tone firm but kind. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I just want to dance with you.”
The sincerity in his voice made Remus’s heart ache in the best way. Slowly, he placed his hand in Sirius’s, letting him lead him toward the dance floor.
The music was soft and slow, and as they moved together, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. Sirius’s hands were warm on his waist, his touch steady and sure. Remus let himself relax, his own hands resting lightly on Sirius’s shoulders.
“You’re not half bad at this,” Sirius teased, his voice low.
“Lily taught me,” Remus replied with a smirk.
Sirius laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Remind me to thank her later.”
They swayed together, the snowflakes above them catching the light like tiny stars. For the first time in what felt like forever, Remus felt completely at ease—no secrets, no fears, just him and Sirius in their own little world.
When the song ended, Sirius didn’t let go right away. Instead, he leaned in, his forehead resting against Remus’s.
“You make me happy,” Sirius whispered, his voice so soft that only Remus could hear it.
Remus smiled, his cheeks warm as he whispered back, “You make me brave.”
Sirius grinned, pulling him into a hug that felt like home. Around them, the Winter’s Dance continued, but neither of them paid it any mind.
For Remus, this was all he needed.