#Wolfstar if you squint

[spindrifters]

I've been doing battle with my internet all day to get this up for Lynxmas. I would not be bested!! I refused and I persevered!! So a very happy birthday from me and the rowdy 11 year olds to our favorite barwench humble forest cat @lynxindisguise!!

There’s a peculiar shuffle to sharing one’s room, a frenzy of activity when it comes to four boys squashed into a rather small circular dorm that puts Remus—not only used to the solitude of his own little cottage bedroom, but raised without so much as a single other child his own age for at least ten miles in each direction—decidedly on edge.

It’s a continuation of the chaos from the welcoming feast, where the newly-sorted Gryffindor boys had quickly found their stride and accompanying role in the ecosystem. James and Sirius, no longer competing over who could eat more chicken thighs but still loudly trying to one-up each other’s boasts about feats of accidental magic. Peter, scrabbling to get a word in while his eyes gleamed with excitement each time one of them noticed. And Remus, the impulse to join in the fun warring with Dad’s gentle word of warning before he climbed on the train earlier in the day—can’t be too careful, lad.

He pushes that to the side, focusing instead on finding his plush grindylow Raccoon at the bottom of his trunk. It’s a poor replacement for Jeff, the very real grindylow who lives at the bottom of his garden pond and who he already misses something fierce—and he is not going to let the other boys see that he brought a stuffed animal with him to school, thank you very much—but still. It helps to know that Raccoon’s there. It helps to know he'll have at least one friend at school.

Because Peter’s nice, but he and James are already friends from growing up, and Sirius and James… Well, he supposes they mean well, but with their shining black shoes and posh accents and the way they barrel loud and bright through a conversation like nothing in the world could touch them, Remus can’t help but be intimidated. For Merlin’s sake, Sirius has silver monogrammed cufflinks on the sleeves of his school uniform. Even if Remus does manage the courage to ever string more than two words together in front of his new dormmates, he can’t imagine they’d ever want to be friends with someone like him.

There’s a flash then, followed by a bang, and Remus becomes briefly distracted by a whirling firework escaping from James’s trunk. There’s laughter at that, a slight salve to his fluttering, nervous gut when the other boy winks at him from behind square-frame glasses, but then James turns back to say something to Sirius instead and stops. He gapes.

“Why are you wearing a dress?”

“It’s not a dress,” Sirius sniffs, looking affronted at the very idea. “It’s a nightshirt.”

Well, whatever it is Sirius has changed into while the rest of them weren’t paying attention, it certainly looks like a dress. It’s white, and ankle-length, and buttoned all the way up to just beneath his chin. Also, it’s frilly. Very frilly. If anything, it looks like something out of Ma’s old and battered copy of A Christmas Carol, like he should really have a long nightcap and candleholder to go with it.

Remus can’t help it. He snorts.

Sirius snaps his gaze over, steel grey eyes boring holes into him, and Remus wants to melt into the floor beneath his feet. “Well, what do you wear to sleep, then, if it’s so funny?” he snaps.

“Not my gran’s nightie,” Remus replies, feeling he ought to be congratulated, actually, on such a witty remark. Only Sirius’s eyes flash at that, and immediately his jaw clamps jaw shut.

But then James is cackling, and Sirius seems to take in his new dormmates for the first time since they all began changing for bed. James, in a vest and Quidditch shorts. Peter, in a matching set of broomstick-patterned pyjamas. Remus, in a pair of joggers and the oversized green jumper that still smells like Dad. A red flush creeps up Sirius’s pale cheeks. “Oh.”

It occurs to Remus then, that this wasn’t at all what he wanted, either. He didn’t want to make Sirius feel bad about it. He hadn’t wanted to embarrass him.

So it’s a poor offering, maybe, but he finds himself digging out another jumper—orange, this time, but a nice soft one, and not too oversized or nubby—and says, ���D’you want to borrow it?”

A moment passes, then two, and then Sirius is smiling wide. “Cheers, Lupin,” he says, a shine in his eyes of something Remus doesn’t quite know how to place.

In future days he’ll come to understand that that look is the surefire sign of Sirius about to do something that’s not the done thing—not by pureblood standards, anyway, whatever the hell those are. All he knows right now is that Sirius isn’t yelling at him—or worse, ignoring him—and then James is throwing an extra pair of Quidditch shorts at Sirius’s face and saying no one wants to see his skivvies, and then Peter is breaking out a massive bag of Bertie Bott’s to share, and maybe it turns out that Remus can have friends, actually, after all.

[77nevilleplants]

POV: You're Remus Lupin (20) and one Sirius Black (20) asked you to pose for a sketch.

Very scuffed 😂 shout to @fiendishfyre for encouraging me to post this and being such a roleplay partner!

[evyltalks]

Would you prefer slutty wolfstar or slutty wolfstar with angsty undertone ?

[my-castles-crumbling]

"I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free."

~ Taylor Swift (So Long, London) Pairing: slight wolfstar, but it's not the focus - Rating: T - TW: mentions of abuse, Dumbledore bashing

"He was innocent," Remus murmured, staring into the clear blue eyes that he used to associate with trust. With hope. With honesty.

"And unfortunate oversight," Albus Dumbledore murmured, his face unreadable.

"An unfor- WHAT?" Remus shouted, immediately losing his temper, and not for the first time that day. Again, he pictured Sirius, the Sirius he knew, the Sirius he loved, rotting away in a cell, innocent. "He was in Azkaban for TWELVE YEARS, Albus! Twelve years without hope, without comfort, without-"

"Without you?" Dumbledore interrupted, his calm demeanor making Remus want to kill.

"I'm done," Remus murmured, his fury so strong that he felt like ice. He walked from the room shaking.

-

"You want me to go back?" Sirius asked, his voice hollow.

"It's for the best," Dumbledore murmured, his face impassive. "He need a safe place. We need to get Voldemort under control, before it is too late. I'm sure you agree, we need to protect everyone. Protect Harry."

But that struck a nerve.

"You seem to like sending people back to the places where they've been abused under the guise of protection," Sirius snapped, thinking of Harry, who was currently locked away at the Dursleys.

A long silence followed.

"Will you let us use Grimmauld Place or not?" Dumbledore asked after a few tense moments.

"Yes," Sirius grumbled. But only because he knew he had no choice.

-

"Did you know?" Harry asked, staring desperately at the painting of Albus Dumbledore. "Did you know how bad it was at the Dursleys?"

He knew the answer. He'd heard him speak to Petunia about it.

"I did," Dumbledore said simply, his eyes dull.

"And you knew about Draco. And Sirius. And his brother," Harry stated, no longer asking. How many other abused children had Dumbledore known about and ignored? How many other people had suffered without knowing it for Dumbledore's causes?

"It was for the Greater Good," the painting stated simply, not looking contrite at all.

"But...it wasn't good for any of us, was it?" Harry asked, a dull throbbing in his chest.

"I suppose not."

[himbionn]

Pov: Boys™️

(Tap picture for better quality)

There's not enough art of just these four vibin so I've taken the liberty of doing it MYSELF.

[sliebman10]

Cousin

"Moony," Sirius hissed behind his glass of scotch.

"Yes?" Remus said, raising his eyebrow.

"Since when are Harry and my cousin so friendly?" he asked, nodding toward where Harry and Draco were sitting on the sofa. Harry was clearly telling some sort of story and Draco was listening with rapt attention.

Remus shrugged. "I don't know why he'd like a haughty pureblood who rejected his father's worldview."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something else but closed it and kissed Remus's cheek instead. "Well, if you put it like that…"

Word count: 90

@wolfstarmicrofic

[aphrodite-of-sparta]

Sooooo do we all know mr. Brightside is wolfstar or did I finally have an original thought??

Like obv Remus is the narrator. Not only "he's having a smoke and she's taking a drag" and that stuff but also "open up my eager eyes, I'm mr brightside" like brother please tell you see what I see

[cels-not-so-secret-love-affair]

tired (sirius/remus)

a/n: wartime wolfstar except they get to be cute and domestic and in love and not fighting mwah x

‘Hello? I’m home.’ The front door swings shut with a soft whoompf as Sirius hauls himself inside, stamping his boots on the mat and rubbing his hands together in a feeble attempt to rid his bones of the cold that’s seeped in. Outside the night is deep and liquid. Sighing, he chucks his keys on the console, yanks off his shoes and throws his hefty biker’s jacket up on the hook beside his boyfriend’s worn-out duffle, before calling out again.

‘Remus? You there?’ This time, a head pops out of the kitchen doorway in response.

‘Hi, love. You’re late.’

‘Yeah, well. Such are the joys of life at present,’ Sirius replies joylessly, running a hand through his hair. Remus just gives him a rueful smile.

‘Come on through, I’ve got the kettle on.’

The kitchen is warm and comforting when Sirius sinks into his usual chair at the table, and a wave of exhaustion comes crashing down on top of him. The dull ache that had already started up a low thrum in his limbs seems to take over now that he’s finally let his guard down, and for a moment all he can really focus on is the soreness in his feet. Remus leans down to kiss his head, all soft wool and smoke and cinnamon, then sets about fetching a mug. The one he settles on is a gift from Lily. It’s got a slight chip on the handle and the words Best Dog in the World neatly hand painted on the front in an imitation of Sirius’ fancy cursive. Sirius had roared with laughter when he’d unwrapped it, and it had immediately become a fan favourite in their household.

‘Do you fancy something herbal? We’ve got peppermint and liquorice in if you’d like.’

‘Sure Moons, that’d be lovely.’ Remus hums in response and takes the box of teabags down from the cupboard. Then he shuffles across to the kettle where it’s cradled childlike by its tipper (a lifesaving stroke of genius on Mary’s part) and pours the water. It’s a familiar sound, mundane, and Sirius closes his eyes to bask in the feeling of just being home. When he’s opened them again his tea is sat steaming happily before him, and he pulls it closer, grateful for its warmth in his hands. Remus pulls up a chair opposite him.

‘That better?’, he inquires softly.

‘Loads, thanks.’

‘I’m glad to have you back.’ Sirius winks at him.

‘Can’t stand to be without me, right babe?’ Remus laughs and makes a face.

‘Actually I take it back. You can give me that mug back now and return to the dark and cold.’

‘You’re a cruel man, Lupin.’

‘Not my fault you’ve poor taste in men.’ Sirius shakes his head at this, a fond expression softening the sharpness of his features.

‘I’ve got great taste in blokes. The best.’

They spend a few quiet minutes together after that. For the first time in about four weeks time seems like it’s on Sirius’ side, and things are allowed to slow to a dreamy kind of pace where whole lifetimes can be spent wrapped in the gentle embrace of a tiny old fashioned kitchen with a flickering lightbulb. It’s grounding to sit still for a second and focus on nothing else but being. Soon enough he’s finished his tea, and looks up to find Remus watching him somewhat analytically. He’s looking at Sirius in the way he sometimes does, like he’s trying to memorise every detail of his face just in case there’s a test on it later.

‘You don’t look right.’

‘Wow. Complimentary.’

‘You know I don’t mean it like that. Are you alright, cariad?’ The question is so gentle and so genuine that Sirius has to fight to keep himself from tearing up.

‘I’m just tired, Remus. I’m so fucking tired.’ Remus studies him, then stands.

‘Here. I think you need it.’

Sirius doesn’t need to be told twice. Remus’ arms are safe and reassuring and soft and Sirius clutches fistfuls of his woollen jumper tight as they hug. He buries his face in Remus’ shoulder and decides to just let the rest of reality fuck right off. Somewhere along the line Remus reaches up to stroke his hair and God, if that doesn’t heal something in him. They’re like that for a while. Just the two of them, in the very very early hours of the morning, embracing. As if maybe if they were close enough, if they held each other long enough, they’d be able to squeeze all the sadness and all the suffering out of their weary souls and send it spiralling off into the night. As if they’re comforting each other through something so much bigger than half past midnight on an awfully cold Thursday.

‘I’ll run you a bath,’ Remus murmurs eventually. ‘Wash your hair for you, yeah?’

‘Yeah,’ breathes Sirius, voice barely audible, muffled by his boyfriend’s shoulder. ‘Please.’

[lynxindisguise]

blaming this on @plecotusauritus and, per usual, @spindrifters

canon-inspired praise-kink remus, dom/sub dynamics, but mostly just crying

“No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Moony was the good boy, he got the badge.” 

Beneath the table, Sirius gives Remus’s knee a teasing squeeze before his hand creeps higher up his thigh. 

Remus clears his throat, begging the blood vessels in his cheeks to behave themselves. Per usual, his body betrays him. 

“I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my... best friends,” Remus says through clenched teeth, batting Sirius’s hand away. “I need scarcely say that I failed dismally.” 

Sirius’s grin is the glint of a dagger in his peripherals. It’s blunter than it used to be, than the slick smirk of his memories. 

“Please Moony. I can be good, I promise. I’ll make it up to you.”

They sneak off to their room at the first opportunity. Sirius sits himself on the edge of the bed, as if waiting for Remus’s command. But then his palm is pressed flat against Remus’s chest, holding him at a distance. 

“Strip for me, Moony.” 

Remus freezes. Under the blue tinge of moonlight, his hair is streaked with silver, his body a textured map of scars and jutting bones and the soft give at his middle. But in the orange haze of early evening, he’s a lopsided canvas artlessly slashed and dulled with grey. 

“Go on, Moony. For me.” Sirius’s tone is the gentle caress of a shard of glass. 

Head bowed, he shrugs off his cardigan. Trembling fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt.

“You have such lovely hands, Moony.” 

This wrings a chuckle from him, and with it, some of the tension in his shoulders. His shirt falls open, and his heart relocates itself to his throat.

“Keep going, baby. You’re doing so well. Such a good boy.”

This is new. Very new. It was always Sirius writhing beneath him, begging for release as Remus made a tally of his disobedience on his deceptively perfect flesh. 

Now his skin is stained with ink, and Remus is standing before him in all his imperfect glory. 

“Oh Moons, you’re so handsome. Look at you.” A choked whine escapes Sirius as tears spill from Remus’s eyes. “Hey, no, come here.” 

Sirius sits up on his knees, hands ready to catch Remus’s face as he shuffles forward. He licks the tears from his cheeks and kisses his greying temples as his hands slide down to his waist. 

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispers against the corner of his mouth, raw and stinging with salt. “You did such a good job, Moony. Let me make it up to you.” 

[floralembarrassment]

What did you Expect? (1/1) (jegulus | wolfstar)

"You know your cousin's kid is a little brat," Regulus chided, waggling a finger at Sirius.

"Oh so now she's my cousin?" Sirius retorted, drawing out the 'my' and feigning a pearl clutch.

"Well technically she's always been your cousin," Regulus volleyed back matter-of-factly.

"She's your cousin too Reg, and in fact we only talk to her because of you," Sirius huffed.

"All I'm saying is he is a little shit." Regulus folded his arms as he spoke with a tone of finality.

"Darling, I don't know how to tell you this but umm what did you expect? First of all he's a Malfoy... second of all you know who his parents are, and honestly a kid named Draco has to be a bully otherwise he would get bullied." James placed a gentle hand on Regulus' shoulder as came to stand behind him.

Regulus fell into James' chest, and leaning his head back on James' shoulder he sighed: "well maybe he needs to be bullied," and a small glint appeared in his eyes.

"Reg, no. Come on Harry would be so upset."

Regulus quickly spun around to look at James. He pointed a finger at him, "oh fine but if it wasn't for him I would be bullying that twerp."

"Agreed" Sirius and James said in unison.

"What did he do?" Remus asked.

Sirius' mouth fell open in brief betrayal. "Moony come on. You can't seriously be trying to play devil's advocate. It's Lucius Malloy's boy! He's bound to be a dick," Sirius waved his arms dramatically as he spoke, but no one missed the upturn of his lips as he purposefully messed up the last name.

"I just want to know the story," Remus said waving Sirius off, who only rolled his eyes in response.

"You just want the gossip," Regulus corrected.

"Sue me," Remus said shrugging his shoulders.

"He bought his way onto the quidditch team and then called his daddy when Harry beat him anyway before breaking his arm..." James explained.

"HE BROKE HIS ARM?" Remus jumped up from his seat. He looked between the three others incredulously.

"Technically his house elf set a bludger after him," Regulus corrected.

"Here we go again, you and the elves..." Sirius threw his arms in the air and dropped them quickly by his side.

Regulus continued as if Sirius didn't exist: "If I thought he was smart enough to charm it himself, I would be pushing it harder, but that kid is as dumb as his hair is blonde. Harry is fine though, Madame Pomfrey is excellent as always." Regulus glossed over the insult and quickly a warm feeling fell over the group at the reminder of Madame Pomfrey's caring abilities.

After a moment Remus spoke. Breaking the silence: "It's a good thing he's got a crush on the Weasley girl,"

The others looked at him a bit quizzically.

"What? If he's anything like his fathers, we'll all be lucky if doesn't end up in love with the boy," And Remus burst into laughter. While Sirius' barks soon followed, James and Regulus shared worried looks.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Penpals

Words: 792

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

21st August

Moony,

Please tell me you’re still coming this weekend. Evans actually replied to one of James’ (many) letters, and not just to tell him to fuck off, and he is being unbearable. If I have to hear one more sentence that starts “She said” I might just unforgivable myself. Please put me out of my misery, I’ve been helping Effie cook just to get away from the lovesick prick. Note that I can cook now. I’ll show you this weekend, I asked her to teach me how to make Samosas and they’re surprisingly easy. So I can make you samosas now! Hope the moon wasn’t too bad, wish we could have been there.

Padfoot

✨✨✨✨

21st August

Pads,

I’ll be there Friday night, I promise.

To be fair to James, it’s a pretty big deal for him. But rest assured I’ll tell him to shut up if you need me to. Lily didn’t tell me that she replied to him, so now I need to fire off a letter to her and ask her if she sustained a head injury. Please don’t off yourself, I don’t want to spend the week with lovesick Prongs on my own.

Samosas! For me? I’m glad James’ arseholery has resulted in something good at least. I will never tire of Effie’s Samosas, so the bar is high! I hope you’re practicing ready for the weekend, I expect to be wowed.

The moon wasn’t great. I have two ugly new scars on my jaw/cheek, just to prepare you for the weekend.

The wolf misses his friends, and I miss mine.

Moony

🌙🌙🌙🌙

21st August

Dear Lily,

I have received news that you sent a letter to James, and I was so concerned that I had to write to you immediately. Are you alright? Were you injured? How bad was the head injury? Do they think you’ll ever gain back full brain function?

But seriously, what the fuck? He won’t shut up about it and he’s driving Sirius mad. I’m spending the week with them and if he’s as insufferable as Sirius claims, I will be blaming you.

Hope you’re enjoying France.

Also, I told you so.

Remus

🌺🌺🌺🌺

22nd August

Moons,

Sorry the moon was shit. We’ll be back at school by the next one and it’ll be better. Also, I won’t tell you again, your scars aren’t ugly. They’re cool and rugged, and make you look distinguished and mysterious. I will hear no arguments on this subject, thank you. I also meant to ask how many books you’ve read this summer. I think you’ll be incredibly proud that I have read seven whole books in the last month. One of them was mostly pictures, but I think it still counts. I’m agonised that your only issue with my death is that you’ll have to cope with Prongs’ pining alone. Do I truly mean so little to you, Remus? I fear I shall never recover from this slight.

Yours,

Pads

PS: I made another batch of samosas and honestly, you’re going to swoon when you taste them. They’re so good. Effie seems to love bonding with me over a hot stove, and it’s very sweet. I love living here so much. I try not to think about what I’d be doing if I wasn’t here, but sometimes the comparison is helpful. Well, that got sappy. My next letter will only be discussing Quidditch and boobs to make up for it. Counting down the hours til Friday.

✨✨✨✨

23rd August

Pads,

Not long to go now. Can’t wait to see you later, and for samosas.

Seven books? Wow. That’s impressive! I’m a few ahead of that, but I’ve literally had nothing to do but read since July. Moony and Padfoot book club, when?

Can you believe it’s been over a month since I saw you? Maybe you’ve finally had that growth spurt you’ve been hoping for. My mum seems to think I’ve grown, but she always says that.

It wasn’t enough for me to tell you not to top yourself in general? Do you need me to tell you how much I’d miss you creeping into my bed at 3 am and hogging the blankets? Or how sad it would make me to not have to share every cup of tea I make? Weirdly, I would actually miss that, to be fair, so please be alive when I get there.

If I wanted to hear about Quidditch and boobs, I’d write to Prongs. Please spare me. I’ll probably be with you before it arrives, so there’s little point. I might send this right before I floo so you don’t get chance to reply. If so, hi, I’m already here!

Looking forward to swooning over you! your samosas!

Your

Moony

🌙🌙🌙🌙

[sachsoup]

i didnt know i named them that,,,

[a-sunset-outside-my-window]

fic rec friday

Identification of the Werewolf

by BrigidFaye on Ao3

On the first Monday back from Christmas holidays their second year, James had a very bad idea.

As usual, it was Sirius who prompted it. As was not usual, James genuinely thought his bad idea was a bad idea that might have bad consequences he didn’t really want to deal with. He didn’t usually think ahead to the consequences part.

The bad idea was this: Maybe Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

(Short fic, 12yo Marauders, hints of Wolfstar if you read between the lines. POV moves between all four Marauders)

ahh this is so sweet!! a little three chapter fic about the marauders figuring out Remus is a werewolf, aka my favourite type of fic <3

favourite tropes included:

werewolf angst

the marauders being good friends

hurt/comfort

all of them have povs and they are so clueless T.T

they are all trying their best

general marauders shenanigans

as always, give lots of love and kudos to the author and have an amazing rest of the week <3

[elliemarchetti]

Obsession (Part 3)

@jilymicrofics’s prompt #29

Prompt: Disgrace

Part 1

Part 2

Words: 539

If only his job hadn't also depended on that damned phone, James would’ve been tempted to unplug the one sitting on the bedside table in his hotel room. These days it did nothing but bring bad news, like the call he had received a little past dawn and nearly caused him a heart attack. Another body had been found in a nearby park, and his first thought had been that it was his wife’s. For some strange reason, his sick mind had pictured her naked, tossed in the grass like garbage, too pale and too still for him to confirm her identity without crying, but when sleep had completely dissipated and his mind had cleared, he realized his partner would’ve never broken the news to him so calmly. First, he too had a boyfriend and certainly had no difficulty in empathizing with what James felt, and second, he was friend with Lily too. Still, another call, another disgrace.

This time, the killer had picked a police officer as his victim, surprising him with a garrotte on his morning jog.

“Ryan Thomas was a strong, trained man,” Sirius mused, twirling a pencil between his fingers. “Our killer can’t be just anyone. Maybe he underwent military training, or…”

Whatever his best friend said, James wasn’t listening anymore. He hadn’t told anyone that he had recognized, even if he couldn’t put a name or a face to it, the voice of his wife’s kidnapper, but now that someone else had mentioned the possibility of him being a former student at the academy everything came back.

“Do you remember Snape?” he asked, interrupting his assumptions. Sirius looked at him with a puzzled expression, but subconsciously he must’ve understood where he was going with this, or he wouldn’t have put the pencil back on the desk.

“Severus? It’s been a long time,” he replied, but they were both aware of how bitter their former classmate could be. Everyone knew how much James and Sirius loved to joke and make fun of others, and even if they rarely behaved like bullies, showing some decency to the less fortunate, that guy got too much on their nerves to just let him be. He was a racist, classist, misogynist and he deserved to have his life made a living Hell until he retired. They even celebrated with a couple beers at a nearby pub when they found out he wasn’t on the list of names of those who would take the shooting test the following week. Turns out, they got rid of him only for a while, but they hadn’t eradicated his crazy ideals.

“But why obsess over Lily?” Sirius asked, and the question would’ve been more than legitimate, if only James hadn’t been certain he had seen her, on more than one occasion. They even kissed in front of that bastard. “Ask Peter to find out everything he can about him and make sure he keeps it confidential,” he nearly shouted to Sirius before bolting out of the office and heading as quickly as possible to his car. If he wasn’t wrong, and he was sure he wasn’t, there were other clues hidden in his house that, if coded correctly, would lead him to his beloved.

[cuddlebugsirius]

Warning: I cried writing this, so you might cry reading this, but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️ this @wolfstarmicrofic is for the May 23rd prompt 'pool' and is a beyond the veil Wolfstar reunion scene, post-Second Wizarding War. Everyone's dead. But no one is alone!

Remus woke to a murmur that was slowly growing louder, his head pillowed on a strangely familiar surface. As the voice grew louder, he recognised it: Sirius.

“My Moony is here, my Moony is here, look Prongs, he's finally here!”

He coughed just once, blinking in the low light, and saw the radiant face of his love leant over his frame. It was then he realised why it was so familiar, this place.

“We’re in the clearing?”

“Moony,” Sirius breathed, toppling Remus off of his lap so that he could flop on top of him in a hug; “Gods, Moony, I've missed being able to touch you so much,”

Eyes watering, he caught James hovering a few feet away from them, Remus' arms full of the boy he loved and the clearing full of their long-gone friends and family. The sun was just rising, casting shadows of the lush fruit trees across the wide open space as everyone he'd been missing came closer and closer to them. Potter Manor was far in the distance, but he would recognise the grove of trees they'd lounged in every summer from fourth year on for eternity.

“Did he live?” He asked, watching Lily and James’ reactions closely, “did we manage it?”

“He lived,” Lily nodded, silent tears streaming down her face as they pooled in James' eyes; “I’m so sorry it cost you your life too, Remus, we never meant to-“

“Don't,” he cut her off, holding Sirius tightly as he sobbed to Remus’ chest; “don't ever apologise for letting me save your boy, or for bringing me back to my love, Lily Potter. If you do I'll, I’ll…”

She was smiling now, cheeks wet but eyes bright; “you’ll what?”

“I’ll- I will never braid your hair for you again!”

A broken laugh escaped Sirius, Remus slowly sitting the pair of them up and nudging him back so that he could see his face more clearly. To take his face in his hands again near knocked the wind from him, but he gathered all the strength he had to say: “hi, Pads,”

[overdueforarevival]

Whumptober Day 31 - Even If I Die Screaming

Asking For Help | Therapy | 'I'm alive, I'm just not well

Summary: Sirius tries to be a good brother, he tries to protect Regulus, tries to help him, but Regulus doesn't want any part in it.

Also posted to AO3

Sirius Black has known for years that his baby brother has been lost. He died years ago, perhaps even that first year when Sirius was having the time of his life at Hogwarts while Regulus suffered alone in a cold, dark house. He tried to fix it, begged Regulus to come with him time after time, pleases for his baby brother to come back to him. The night he ran away, he’d tried to physically drag Regulus away, half delirious with pain and desperate for someone to stand by him. Regulus had sneered and spat that Sirius is no brother of his and he should fuck off to his blood traitor friends. So that’s exactly what Sirius did.

But now, three days before the end of school, Sirius can’t help the knot of anxiety in his stomach. These will be the last days Sirius will be able to keep an eye on his brother, the last days he’ll know for sure that he’s safe. After this, Sirius will be out on his own and Regulus will, once again, be in his rearview mirror. He can’t help but think that’s he’s failed.

So, in a last-ditch attempt to protect his little brother, Sirius sends his owl across the Great Hall with a tiny piece of parchment, a stupid little message scrawled across it he’s not even sure Regulus will still remember. It has been years since the sentiment has been passed between the boys, dating all the way back to their boyhood when Regulus would stand in Sirius’ doorway, crying because he had a bad dream. Every night, before bed, Sirius would reassure Regulus that he was only across the hall if he was needed. And now, those same words are landing in front of a seventeen year old Regulus who opens it with a frown.

I’m still across the hall.

Regulus’ brow furrows, for a moment Sirius thinks he’s going to scowl and burn the parchment as he had with Sirius’ last letter two years ago. He doesn’t burn it. He tears it in two, scrunches it up and tosses it behind him.

And that’s that.

It’s just over a year later when there’s a loud banging against the door of Sirius’ apartment. James and Lily are getting married tomorrow morning and he’d been planning on an early night so he can get up early and make sure everything’s ready, but this person seems to have other plans.

‘Who the hell’s making that ruckus at this hour?’ Remus grumbles, reaching for his tea with a frown. Sirius shrugs, leans down to kiss the man on the forehead and then makes for the door, wand gripped beneath his robes. He couldn’t be too careful these days.

As he opens the door, Sirius immediately raises his wand, ready for a battle when he sees the man stood on the other side.

‘Regulus?’ he asks sharply. It’s no secret that his little brother is now one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted followers. Rising through the ranks at a young age, just like Sirius has done on his own side of the war. Sirius forces himself to see a Death Eater before him, not the chubby cheeks of a boy he used to sing to sleep.

‘Sirius,’ Regulus responds. There’s a strange edge to his voice, a childish relief he hasn’t heard in years. Sirius’ gaze only hardens. ‘I need your help, you said… you said you’d always be there,’

Sirius looks his brother up and down. His eyes linger on his forearm where he knows the long sleeves are covering a horrid mark, the mark that has signified the deaths of so many friends. How many of those friends saw his baby brother moments before their death? How many people has he lost to this man? Sirius scowls.

‘I did. That was a long time ago,’ Sirius crosses his arms over his chest, lowering his wand for the moment, though he’s still not convinced Regulus isn’t here for a fight.

‘I- I know, I’ve done stupid things, awful things, really, but… I don’t- I can’t- that doesn’t matter, Sirius, I need your help. I know how to—’

‘You should have thought of that two years ago,’ Sirius snaps, cutting Regulus off and reaching for the door, swinging it shut in his brother’s face. He sighs heavily, tells himself he’s done the right thing, and leans his head against the back of the door, waiting until he hears his brother’s retreating footsteps.

‘Who was it?’ Remus calls from the living room.

Shaking himself back to reality, Sirius plasters on a smile and returns to his boyfriend, sitting down next to him and draping his legs over the man’s lap.

‘Nobody, darling. Now, what’s on TV tonight?’

***

Sirius is watching James and Lily dancing together, deep into the night and just a little tipsy with a smile on his face when he hears the news. Some old farts are muttering behind him, gossiping about the latest war news, despite their strict No War Talk policy.

He never figures out who says it, doesn’t really remember the exact words but he knows that they’re saying Regulus Black is dead. Drowned, they say, on the orders of the Dark Lord. Regulus Black is dead. Sirius’ baby brother is dead.

The smile slips from Sirius’ face, eyes still trained on his best friend as he leans ever so slightly on his wife, trying to hide just how many gins he’s had. Should he have let Regulus in last night? Or would that have only gotten himself, and perhaps Remus too, killed. Is Regulus Black because he slammed the door in his face? Or did Regulus slam it first? Whose fault is it? Who failed who? Was Sirius an awful brother, or did Regulus never let him be better?

He’ll never know.

All he does know is that his new family are dancing around him, drinks in hand and laughing loudly over the music drifting from the muggle speakers Lily insisted on having. And his old family is dead, deranged and devastated. He doesn’t know where to look, where to turn. So he stands still, frozen in place as the world moves around him.

Nobody notices, continuing to celebrate around him and this time it’s Remus dragging Sirius out onto the dance floor, insisting they dance to the David Bowie song playing. Sirius tries, he really does, but from the strange look on Remus’ face he knows he’s not doing a very good job of it.

Everyone goes home and Marlene and Dorcas offer to clean up since Sirius and Remus set everything up, so Remus drags Sirius home. He falls straight into bed, formal robes and all, and he doesn’t wake up until the sun is high in the sky and Remus is already bustling about the house. Even then, Sirius doesn’t get up.

Remus tries to get him to say what’s wrong, but he won’t say a word, can’t figure out how to voice the thoughts in his head. There aren’t any, really. There’s nothing going on in his head except a vast abyss of nothing. Nothing. Sirius Black is nothing.

Regulus asked for help, Sirius said no and now Regulus is dead.

Of course, the news breaks soon enough and Remus understands why Sirius doesn’t want to eat and why he cries when Remus suggests he take a shower. So he cuts Sirius’ food up into tiny pieces and offers them up one by one, he drags Sirius to the bathtub and scrubs his skin clean. Remus holds together Sirius’ crumbling pieces and never once complains.

Sirius doesn’t say a word when he unlocks the liquor cabinet only to find it empty. It doesn’t take a genius to know what’s happened to all the alcohol in the house. He’s even gone as far as taking the muggle rubbing alcohol Remus swears by out of the little first aid kit in the bathroom.

James tries to talk to Sirius, he seems strangely upset too, but then again James has always absorbed the emotions of others. It’s no surprise, then, that he overhears Lily talking to Remus one day, saying that James has been acting strange lately too. That’s the reality of war, he supposes. Nobody knows what ‘normal’ is anymore or how to be that. In fact, Sirius doesn’t think he’s ever had the chance to learn.

And eventually the war calls Sirius back to the front lines and he can’t mope about in bed any longer, so he drags himself off to Order meetings and plans strategy with Moody and goes on missions with James. Slowly, things get better and he meets a little bundle of joy called Harry. He swears to never fail him, to always be there when he needs him and die if it means this child is allowed to live. He’ll go to the ends of this world and further for this boy.

For a year, everything is perfect. Or, as perfect as anything can be in this world and Sirius thinks that he could find happiness here, even if things never get better, he could find some joy.

Things don’t get better.

The don’t even stay the same.

All it takes is four hours and Sirius Black’s world falls apart.

People always say they’ll never forget the worst day of their life, but Sirius only remembers three things.

The lifeless eyes of the first boy to show him true happiness. They’re a soft brown, that honey sort of colour every Potter has and Sirius is sure it’s a mark of their kindness. These eyes have always been so full of life, a bright spark shines in them that could never be replicated by another being. The spark is gone, James Potter’s eyes are dull and all the light and life has been zapped out of it with two simple words.

A baby boy’s terrified wails. It’s a piercing sound, one that shatters Sirius’ ear drums and carves his heart in two. He’s heard Harry cry a hundred times, often had the screaming child dumped in his arms by one of his exhausted parents and he’d rock the child until he’d calm down. Harry is beyond rocking, beyond soothing words, even beyond his stuffed stag. Nothing will calm this child and nothing will ease his pain. He’s only a year old but something in Sirius’ heart tells him he’ll remember this feeling the rest of his life.

A burning anger in his chest as the boy was torn from his arms. It swells from his heart, through his lungs and invades every organ in his body. His blood boils in his vein, rage coursing from head to toe and it fuels him, forcing him to put one foot in front of the other. There’s nothing left for him, everything has been torn away in one horrific night that he’ll never remember, memories stolen away by rage, pain and time.

The next thing he knows, he’s sitting in a cell in Azkaban, freezing cold and begging for mercy, pleading that he’s innocent.

Nobody listens

Nobody helps.

Finally, Sirius knows how Regulus felt that night.