#if you want to read it as wolfstar and cause yourself further pain then by all means

[what-a-weird-rose]

November 3, 1981

Happy birthday, Sirius Black!

[cw: a bit of swearing, implied wolfstar, oct. 31, 1981 angst]

The moon hung fat in the sky, glowering over the world in infinite glory. Sirius could see how it curled around the angry clouds high above Azkaban. The sky was always angry looking, and he had decided one day, not long after getting here. A breeze passes through the cell, carrying the drunken smell of rot and death. He squints at the sky, some tiny part of him hoping that the moon might come down, places a soft kiss on his skin, and brings him home and back to James. 

Sirius licks his lips and tastes how the skin has cracked without water. The act does nothing; his mouth is even drier if one could believe it, but the feeling of the act grounds him. The feeling, as strange as it seems in this hellscape, of dragging his tongue along the cracks of his lips brings him back to his center.

The moon does not come down to deliver him to James. Instead, it continues to be full and happy in the dark, cloudy sky. Sirius wishes he could be full; even without the happiness, fullness would be enough.

He can hear Bellatrix down the long, seemingly ceaseless halls, the way she screeches, sings, and cackles at his dementor-induced screams.

Sirius breathes, forcing her out of his mind as though her legilimency could reach into his mind, tear through the hundreds of cells between them, and tangle through his memories like Mother had so often done in his youth. Her choking screeches become distant– as though her cell has begun freefalling through to the bottom of Azkaban– the idea brings a small, reserved smile to his face. 

He smells the dementors as they turn to lord over him, and he instinctively screeches—the memories of his family flooding into his mind’s eye are more than enough to drown out any and all joy that remained from the moment.

The floating creatures are gone faster than they had arrived, gliding away gracefully toward their next victim. Sirius doesn’t feel bad for the soul they try for next; he tells himself that they deserve it—he whispers it aloud in the cold confines of his cell. Azkaban is for criminals, he thinks, when the moon is covered by thick, slightly less-gray-than-usual clouds.

“Azkaban is for the worst of the worst,” he says quietly as the moon slowly reemerges, beautiful and blinding to his overly sensitive eyes.

He crouches and feels the way Padfoot’s fur overtakes Sirius’ skin. He revels in how Padfoot moves– the instinctive agility topped with reflects Sirius’ human body could never achieve. Padfoot was synonymous with freedom– as silly as it felt to be free in prison, the idea of never becoming Padfoot again was horrifying; the thought brought with it an intense sickness that caused severe remembrance of eyeing James’ corpse for the first time on the thirty-first of October, 11:17 P.M. 

Padfoot twitches. An insatiable itch erupts along his back and haunches that, no matter how aggressively he rolls and shakes, he cannot satisfy. The moonlight slowly consumes his cell, casting grand, white light over the crackling, ugly black stone. 

Despite the persistent itch, he retreats and rescinds himself to the shadow of the back wall below the barred window. 

He can hear it distantly– the distinct, guttural sound of Moony’s howl– the anger, resentment, sorrow, and anticipation that meld into one another to become the eye-splitting, blood-curdling howl that haunts him. Padfoot’s blood freezes, as it always has at the sound of a creature so far removed from the natural world that the idea of investigating -of interacting with it- made him shake. He reverts to Sirius and tries to suppress the memories of Remus’ screaming, which preceded the howling. 

He finds his fingers coiled tightly by his hair when he wakes later. The moon is out of sight, likely sitting high and mighty above the horrendously massive prison like some demented warden of tortured souls.

Somewhere far away, Sirius can hear one of the Lestranges yelling at his brother and the other Lestrange yelling back. He distantly thinks he can relate to it, but the reason behind the connection is lost. 

James is with him today; he thinks it was sometime after the yelling had ceased. He stands tall and proud in the corner furthest from the window–and from Sirius. The residual moonlight highlights James in a way reminiscent of something holy. 

“What are you doing, Sirius?” James asks, not accusatory but more distant. As though he has a checklist of questions to ask, and he simply wants to complete it as quickly as possible. 

“Sitting.” Sirius mumbles, looking at anything in the tiny cell but James. 

Something about this James makes him feel sickly– the way his eyes pierce with a ring of emerald laced around his irises like one of Mother’s doilies. 

“Why are you being so difficult?” James asks, but his voice has shifted from soft and uninterested to sharp and overbearing. “Why do you refuse to be helped?” James asks in Mother’s sharp, keen voice.

“’m s��rry,” Sirius says, quieter than before, and he vaguely remembers being small and young once.

“You should be,” Lily sneers, though her eyes don’t quite reach him. Her voice is James’, deep and rumbly, as though she had just woken up and had rolled out of bed to scold him. “Why are you here, Sirius?” She asks him, though James’s voice is gone and replaced with Lily’s. 

I don’t remember; he tries, but his voice fails him. Lily looks down at him and squints, looking vaguely toward his tattoos.

I did something awful. He tries again, but this time, his throat closes tightly, leaving him with a hoarse gurgling sound.

“Don’t lie to me,” James says. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, and his eyes look over Sirius suspiciously before roaming up toward the window.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says again, though James looks unimpressed.

“Do you know why Remus isn’t here, Sirius?” Sirius’ head begins to feel heavy, thick, and floaty with nausea. “I’ll tell you, hmm? It’s because he couldn’t stand it. No, he couldn’t,” James says, though his voice is thick as though his mouth is full of peanut butter. “He couldn’t stand to be lied to by you. You fucked with him before, you remember that?” James laughs loudly, and for a moment, Sirius worries the dementors will come for him next. “Remus could get you out of here, he could– but why would he when all you’ve ever done is fuck with him?”

Sirius nods. The words don’t quite sink in, but the feeling behind them sits on his skin and bites.

“I’m sorry, Prongs.”

“Don’t call me that.” James says quickly. “It’s your fault I’m here, you know– your fault you’re here, too.” 

Sirius rolls over, watching his hair fall limply in front of his eyes like a curtain calling for the close of a show. 

“I didn’t do it.” Sirius whimpers and doesn’t know whether he wants James to hear him.

“No, you’re right, Sirius.” James whispers from somewhere close to his head. “But you could have stopped it. You could have plead your case. You could have stayed with Harry. You could have seen through Peter. You could have known Remus would never betray us. So maybe,” James says quietly, oh-so-close to his ear, “you did kill us, Sirius. You killed me and my wife, and for that, I hope you rot.”

[g0thbabyspice]

Secret Santa Reveal!

This is my Secret Santa reveal for @madaampomfrey ! I hope you like it!

Wolfstar

Summary: The full moon lands right on Christmas Eve this year. Sirius decides to stay with him. Will he be able to keep his feelings a secret?

Prompt: Mistletoe

Word Count: 2,665

AN: I hope you like this! It was supposed to be a lot fluffier, but it got kinda angsty... 

The full moon this year fell soundly on Christmas Eve. To most, this was little news, something they could dismiss. For Remus Lupin, however, this meant many things.

It was decided between his parents and Dumbledore that it would make the most sense to stay at Hogwarts; that way, he could recover under the watchful eye of Madame Pomfrey instead of stuck in Saint Mungo’s, surrounded by tired healers and the hecticness that always came with lots of ill people in one space.

This also meant, however, that he would spend Christmas alone except for his teachers and the house elves. The other Marauders were all going home for Christmas. At least, he thought they were.  

Over the summer, the tension in the Black household had risen to a peak, leading to Sirius’ disownment. He had spent the rest of the summer at the Potter’s, swimming in ponds and getting drunk with James. Euphemia and Fleamont had invited him to their home for the holidays, but Sirius told James he felt uncomfortable intruding on them during a time that was supposed to be about family. This was true, mostly, though secretly Sirius also didn’t want to be around them- he was very grateful to them for opening their hearts to him, but as much as they wanted to pretend, he wasn’t a part of their family. Seeing them talking, laughing, behaving like normal parent and child left Sirius with a bitter ache in his chest. James seemed to understand this, as he didn’t push any further.

When he found out that Remus would be staying at Hogwarts as well, he figured it was the perfect coincidence. Spending the holidays with Remus was all he could ask for- even if it meant spending Christmas morning in the Shrieking Shack.

Sirius opened his eyes, immediately registering his discomfort. He was shivering, covered only by his thin clothing. The hard floor below him was unforgiving. There was light leaking in through the slats on the roof, just barely illuminating his surroundings.

Sirius tried to get up before realizing he’s completely entangled in the person next to him. He turns his head slowly, only to come nose to nose with Remus.

He can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and tries to slow his breathing.

Remus’ mouth was parted slightly, his breathing slow and labored. He was covered only by a thin, scratchy looking blanket pulled up to his chin. There were several new scrapes across his face. before he could think, Sirius lifted his hand and slowly traced along a particularly deep new scar, just above his eyebrow. When Remus’ eyes twitched just slightly, he froze.

Slowly, Sirius disentangled himself from the other boy, then as quietly as he could moved to the other side of the room.

Sirius took a deep breath, holding his head in his hands. How much longer could he keep this up? He felt as though everything was slipping out of his grasp.

He had known since second year.

There was one day in particular, sitting in the common room doing homework by the fire. At least, he had been watching Remus do homework by fire. Sirius was planning out a prank in his head, haphazardly strewn across a chair. Growing even more bored by the minute, he began looking for ways to get Remus’ attention, which ended in him throwing little balled up pieces of paper at the other boys head.

Remus had looked up suddenly, then. Sirius had expected him to look angry but he just looked… soft. His lips were curled in his standard awkward smile, one eyebrow raised.

“If you wanted to talk, you could have just asked.”

In that moment, Sirius felt something heavy and warm move in his chest. The fire set a soft light against Remus, so that he almost looked as if he were glowing. Where Sirius was all sharp edges, Remus was soft curves; from the gentle slope of his large nose to the extra bit of baby fat on his hips. Sirius found himself with the inexplicable urge to kiss him.

He supposed something had always been there from the very first day they met, but he just hadn’t realized it yet. Since then, his feelings had only grown harder to keep secret.

Sirius was drawn out of his thoughts by Remus starting to mumble in his sleep.

“Padfoot…”

The very air seemed to still for a moment.

Sirius’ breath hitched in his throat. Had Remus really just said that, or was he imagining things? If he had really said that, what did it mean? It was probably just some mundane dream about all the Marauders, if anything, right?

His head felt as though it were going a mile a minute. Remus dreamed about him, possibly…

Sirius took a deep breath. He couldn’t do this to himself. He couldn’t pretend that he had more of a chance than he did; it would only hurt him. He had done this many times before- read far into any little movement or gesture Remus made- in the end it only left him with heartache. He knew that in Remus’ eyes, he was only Padfoot, a too loud and slightly annoying friend.

Nothing more.

Sirius tried to collect his thoughts and ignore the dull heartache slowly setting in. As much as he loved watching him sleep, he should probably wake the other boy up soon. He looked slightly more battered than past moons had left him, and Sirius had no idea how extensive his wounds were.

Sirius got up and started to wander around the room, pulling out the pair of spare robes they kept hidden under the floorboards and tossing them at Remus. When even with the other boy barely started to stir, Sirius sighed and sat next to him, shaking his shoulders roughly.

“Rise and shine, Moony. Pomfrey is probably wondering where you are.”

Remus finally started to open his eyes.

“Stop shaking me, I’m up.” Remus mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Sirius noticed how each movement made him wince slightly.

“Finally. It took you a right minute.”

Remus rolls his eyes.

There's a pause for a moment as Remus just lay there, Sirius trying his hardest not to look at him.

“Your clothes are next to you.”

“Thanks.”

Remus still didn’t move. There was another short pause.

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, searching for something to say. In front of him, Remus lay completely still, eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“So, good dreams?”

Sirius picked up on the slight twitch of Remus’ eyebrow and the blush slowly swallowing his face.

“Good enough.” He muttered, looking away from Sirius.

Sirius felt his heart skip a beat.

“That’s good.” Sirius said, choking on his words.

Why were things so awkward right now? They had always been comfortable around each other. Remus was easy to talk to. He was one of those people where Sirius just felt okay around. He didn’t have to think. It was effortless.

This moment felt forced, though. For the first time around Remus in a long time, Sirius was searching for words.

Remus breathed in deep before sitting up. As he did, he winced forcefully, causing the blanket he had previously had covering his torso fall to his lap, revealing a smattering of bleeding wounds and dark colored bruises.

Sirius bit his tongue. This was the worst shape he had seen Remus in in ages. Sirius felt his stomach twist into knots. He was supposed to be there to protect him… This was his fault.

“Moony…” Sirius breathed, reaching towards the other boy.

“I’m fine.” Remus snapped, pushing his hand away. “Can you turn around so I can get dressed?”

Sirius furrowed his brow.

“You look like you got into a fight with the bloody whomping willow.”

Remus gave him a pained expression. “Can you just turn around? I can’t go to Pomfrey until I’m… You know…. Wearing clothes.”

Sirius sighed, but turned around obediently. He heard Remus behind moving slowly, the sound of the creaking floorboards interjected with the occasional sharp intake of breath from Remus, as he, Sirius imagined, struggled to dress himself.

After an exceptionally long time, Remus finally spoke.

“You can turn around.”

Remus was on the ground, clothed in a loose cloth shirt and a pair of slightly-too-large trousers. Sirius could see bloody stains soaking through his shirt.

“Let’s get you to pomfrey.” Sirius said, bending down to help Remus up. Remus shook his head at him.

“I can walk by myself.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re joking.”

“Just give me a minute, I’ll get there on my own.” He said, holding himself up with his hands.

“You could barely dress yourself.” Sirius says, exasperatedly running a hand through his dark hair. “Let me help you.”

“I’m fine.” Remus says again. “I’m just a little dizzy.” He tries to stand up, getting onto his knees, but ends up losing his footing and falling forward. Sirius rushes forward, catching him by the shoulder. Remus jerks back suddenly, which causes him to yell out in pain and fall backwards, landing back on the floor in a tremendous flop.

“Merlin’s pants, Moony, you can’t even stand up!” Sirius can feel the heat rising to his face, despite the cold air around them. Why was Remus being so obstinate? “Let me at least do something.”

“I’m telling you, I can do it, just give me a moment!” Remus snaps, not looking at Sirius.

Something inside Sirius snaps. Why was Remus being so angry with him? What had he done?

“Why won’t you just let me help you?!” He yells, throwing his hands into the air.

Remus glares at him, yelling back, “why are you trying to help me so much?W

“Because I love you, wanker!”

The room quiets.

Sirius can feel his heart beating in his stomach. Did he just say that out loud?

Remus sits there, stunned, his mouth hanging open slightly. Sirius feels a sharp twist in his stomach as he is hit with the urge to kiss the other boy.

After a long pause, Remus finally speaks.

“Really?”

Sirius feels as though he might scream. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. In fact, this wasn’t supposed to happen at all. They weren’t supposed to argue over something this stupid, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to tell Remus he loved him.

“I’m sorry.” Sirius says. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s frozen in his spot, looking everywhere except at Remus.

“How long?” Remus asks softly. Sirius turns around to face the wall, holding his head in his hands.

“I’m not sure.” Sirius nervously picks at his fingernails. “A long time.” Since we met, Sirius thinks to himself. “You just… You’re Remus, you know? You don’t judge me like other people do. Around you i don’t have to be Sirius Black, I can just be Padfoot.” Sirius sighs.

“I had no idea…” Remus whispers. Sirius squeezes his eyes shut. He feels sick.

“Really?” He laughs sarcastically. “I thought I was so obvious.”

There’s a pause. In for a knut, in for a galleon, innit? he thinks.

“It’s hard not to look at you. You’re beautiful, y’know. I know you don’t believe it, but you are. And you’re funny, and kind, and you get along with almost everyone in our year, except for bloody Slytherin but they don’t count.”

Sirius stopped, and the room went quiet again. He was too scared to turn around. What if Remus was so disgusted he didn’t even want to speak to him?

After another moment, Sirius takes a deep breath. “Are you going to say anything?” Silence. “Moony?”

Sirius turns around reluctantly. Remus is slumped on the floor, eyes closed. Sirius curses under his breath and grabs the other boy, quickly lifting him over his shoulder and carrying him, panicked, out of the room.

It was late evening now. Sirius was sitting next to Remus, who was lying prone in the hospital wing. Silvery, unmelting icicles hung from the ceiling, and the cots were draped with garland.

Remus hadn’t woken up since he passed out in the shrieking shack. Luckily, when Sirius dragged him here, Madame Pomfrey had asked few questions, instead immediately getting to work. She had only let Sirius to stay after he threatened to jinx himself so he would need treatment as well.

Now, he was fretting, twisting his wand in his hands as he did when he got nervous. Would Remus remember what he had said, or could he just pretend it didn’t happen and move on? What if Remus hated him now? What if Remus never wanted to see him again?

Sirius should have just gone to the Potter’s for the holidays. None of this would have happen if he hadn’t been so bloody emotional and had just accepted their offer.

In the midst of Sirius’ regretful internal monologue, Remus began to stir on the bed. Sirius jumped to alert immediately, shoving his wand back into his pocket.

“Pad…” Remus murmured, slowly sitting up.

“Be careful,” Sirius said, “How do you feel?”

“Like i’ve just woken up from a 40 year coma.” Remus joked, rubbing his side.

Sirius laughed awkwardly.

“Pomfrey took good care of you while you were asleep. I think she might fancy you.”

Remus smiled. “Who could resist my charm?”

Sirius coughed and blushed.

“So… How much of this morning do you actually remember?” Sirius tries to keep his tone light, but the worry is evident.

“Not much.” Remus says, looking Sirius in the eye. “I remember waking up and feeling as though I was trampled by hippogriffs. I remember being an idiot and thinking I needed to prove something to you and get up myself.” Then Remus says, much quieter, “I remember you told me you love me.”

Sirius winces.

“Look, i’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” He begins talking quite fast. “I didn’t mean it, I was just tired, and angry, and it was so cold and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, I was talking nonsense and-“

“Sirius.” Remus stops him, looking at him with soft, honey colored eyes and a gentle smile. “Stop.”

Sirius holds his breath. Why was Remus looking at him like that?

“Look.” Remus says, flicking his eyes up. Above them, vines of mistletoe were swirling around in the air, growing faster every second.

Sirius can feel his heart thudding in his chest. His hands felt jittery.

“Mistletoe? Why?”He says, disbelieving. The mistletoe at Hogwarts was enchanted to grow over two people who are in love, but… Remus couldn’t possibly...

Sirius looks into Remus’ eyes. He can see the gentle slope of new scars across his face, the dimples in his cheeks, his bushy eyebrows, his big nose. Remus is beautiful, plain and simple.

“Because I love you.” Remus says simply. “Now kiss me.”

Sirius grins wildly. He feels his whole body buzzing with joy. He stands up quickly, leaning over Remus and cradling his face in his hands.

Slowly, he leans down and presses his lips against Remus’. He doesn’t close his eyes, for fear if he does he’ll open them again to find that this was all just some wonderful dream. Remus’ lips are chapped and soft, pressing against his own. Sirius can barely pull himself away.

“Since when?” He asks softly, once they finally stop, running his hand through the other boys hair. Oh, he’s wanted to do that for so long.

“I don’t remember not feeling like this.” Remus says simply.

Sirius looks up quickly, smiling wide.

Thank Dumbledore for mistletoe.

Sirius kisses the other boy again, deeper, closing his eyes this time. Remus kisses back, putting his hands around Sirius neck. They stay like this until they hear Madame Pomfrey coming over to give Remus more potion, when they jump apart, both blushing. Sirius can’t help smiling to himself.

This is by far, after all, the best christmas he’s ever had.