#lie low at lupin's

[i-need-of-a-hobby]

how i picture the first conversation between wolfstar to go after arriving at remus' to "lay low at lupin's":

remus: so, i think we need to talk

sirius: *tensing up cuz damnit now they have to talk about their trauma and shit.* yeah...

remus: i made the longbottoms' son conjure snivilous in drag. for class.

sirius: tell me EVERYTHING

[alltoounwellll]

after azkaban sirius notices the new scars. some fresher than others. winding themselves around remus’ body like jagged wire.

“show me your scars” he says one morning. their legs tangled together beneath linen sheets.

“why?” remus asks, shying away.

“because I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there.”

[brandileigh2003]

Older wolfstar fic recs: (older in age that is)

let me know what I missed and self recs are welcome (also as always check tags for each one to protect yourself)

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

**And I know older is relative term bc most of these wolfstar are in their 30s I do believe. But. They have more life experience than in Hogwarts or uni.

--orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond: divorced parents of teddy with one bed at his graduation

-Honey If I'm Not by @brigid-faye divergent post war where remus left, jily lived, and wolfstar only reconnects years later by chance. (Also has a Sirius pov)

---used my best colours for your portrait by @littleoldrachel lie low at Lupin's with flashbacks exploring remus' life

-Looking for Moony by Writer_INFJ_2w1: meet and fall in love birthday party

-Flight of Destiny by @lucigoo lesbian wolfstar meet on plane (Luci also has several others where they're older and lots of beautiful fics

--Aging Gracelessly by orphan_account: texting fic

--the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual divorced wolfstar get back together, raising teddy

-Second Generation by MsAlexWP single parents, getting back together. The sequel is so perfect too! It's a Nice Day for a Wolfstar Wedding

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe (second in series is mcd but this one is open ending)

-Of Memories and Milk Thievery by moonymoment raising teddy, get back together

--Birthday Blues by YouBlitheringIdiot @blitheringmcgonagall :Sirius is turning sixty and he is appalled...

--Give Quarter to Old Men - @krethes series

--dear your holiness by mollymarymarie

--The Postwar Chronicles by @sliebman10 post canon series

-Vigil Strange I Kept by whitmans_kiss explores effects of lycanthropy

--ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 remus headed home, trying to move on from divorce

--Prettiest Star Verse by Raging_queer

-I didn’t sign up for this by Moonystoastandmarsbar divorced wolfstar

-Of Protein Powders and PTAs by @squintclover and @tracingpatternswrites rivals to lovers

-An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account raising teddy strangers to lovers

--The Road Not Taken by @mollymarymarie

-extra credit by MsAlexWP rivals to lovers

-Baby On Board by aqua_myosotis

-Of Memories, Bitter and Sweet by MsAlexWP memory loss

**luci's recs

-my love, take care of yourself by littleoldrachel

-How to romance a guy with (terrible) poetry by BayleyWinchester

-Teddy Plays Matchmaker by grow_as_we_go

-The Front Step Surprise by R33sesPieces

**Recs from others** (I haven't read all these yet but wanted to include)

--Just what the doctor ordered by WrappedUp (be aware there is age gap)

--The Lab by de_sire again an age gap

-Till We Have Arrived Home Again by prouvairing divergent post canon raising harry

-The Patchwork of Us by TracingPatterns

-The Things I Did by Lolo_row

-The Phoenix Agency by LupinsChocolatePraline

-The Fall by EuripidesTrousers

-Pages of You by wolfpants this is drarry main but apparently background wolfstar is really good

-Just Like Heaven by the_prettiest_w0lf_star: mechanic Sirius and librarian Remus

-soloorganaas

-impishtubist

***Self rec***

--Memories of You: mcd exploring memory loss

--Through the Years: Sirius thinks about the past and how handsome his husband is while holding their granddaughter.

--DN(R): Lie low at Lupin's era where they discuss decisions Remus made in the lost years.

**also- the wolfstar librarian is always a great resource make sure to give some likes on posts: 30yo and Up part 2 Bring Black Back Back from the Veil Lie Low at Lupin’s Post Azkaban Grimmauld Place

--Feel free to check my other rec lists, as well as the rest of my fics

[calmlyerratic]

Dumbledore: "Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

Sirius: *literally runs out of the room*

this is canon

"Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."

"But—" said Harry.

He wanted Sirius to stay. He did not want to have to say goodbye again so quickly.

"You'll see me very soon. Harry," said Sirius, turning to him. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah . . . of course I do."

Sirius grasped his hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.

— GoF, Ch 36

[brigid-faye]

Wolfstar lie low Drabble, shout out to irl beta @remakaz ❤️🫶🏻 you are the best travel buddy and tech* date ever (*tesco)

-

He’s been lying low at Remus’ for seven days. It’s after the seventh time he catches Remus’ eyes flicking down to his lips (over a cup of tea, standing in the kitchen) that the question in Sirius’ chest finally escapes his mouth.

“How can you still want me?”

After a week of what Sirius knows, dimly, is wild rantings and vacant silences, insomnia and night terrors, it’s this that makes Remus Lupin look at him like he’s crazy.

One eyebrow up, the opposite corner of his mouth a bit quirked, a head tilt that makes his curls fall over his forehead. It’s so achingly familiar, but jarring, too - the grey in his hair, the depth of the wrinkle between his eyes.

And -fuck fuck fuck all of this - Sirius should have been there for those changes, he wants to press his thumb against that wrinkle and push away all the pain and worries Remus has endured without him. Because of him.

Remus swallows his tea and sets his cup on the counter. He considers Sirius for a moment, opens and shuts his mouth. Frowns and deepens the wrinkle.

“I would have kissed you in that fucking shack, Sirius,” he says, low but even. “If we-I should have kissed you in-”

Sirius isn’t aware of closing the distance between them, he only knows that the kiss is messy and desperate and tastes like life. He’s been so scared that he will finally do the one more thing that will make Remus give up on him, shun him, hate him. Some one thing that will expose the too much in him, something that will reveal the terrified need he feels to hide in Remus’ bones, in the warm brown of his eyes.

But Remus is kissing him and breathing in gasps, nearly sobbing with relief and-

Oh.

Oh, you need me, too.

[enbysiriusblack]

laying low at Lupin's but it's Remus having moved back in with his father so he's awkwardly making all three of them tea whilst Lyall tries to act like it isn't that strange for Sirius to be staying with them, and Sirius is just sitting in the kitchen with all his multitude of current issues and trauma but he cannot stop his brain from panicking over how his ex boyfriend's father has got even hotter.

[wolfstargazer]

Lie low at Lupin's - a wolfstargazer microfic

Sirius had sprung immediately into action. He had always been good at acting on instinct, and he'd spent so long waiting for something to do that he was like a coiled spring, not giving the instructions Dumbledore had issued a second thought.

Figg and Fletcher had been easy enough to track down. Arabella rarely left her house and the company of her cats, which afforded her an uninterrupted view of Number 4, Privet Drive. Mundungus had always been a creature of habit, and it didn't take him long to find him at one of his usual haunts.

Only then did Sirius pause and consider that the final part of Dumbeldore's directions might not be so easy to fulfil.

"Lie low at Lupin's."

Just four words. Sirius turned them over in his mind.

He had thought about writing. But hadn't. Every time he'd tried to put quill to paper the words hadn't come.

Sirius had told himself it would be safer for everyone if he kept his distance. He was on the run, after all.

He could have sent a note before arriving. Something short to explain that he was coming, that Dumbledore had insisted, that he'd need to stay for a little while whilst things were put in place. He was intending to offer Grimmauld Place to the Order. But that would take time.

But he hadn't.

Instead he'd apparated straight to the flat Remus had kept all these years, transformed into a dog to sneak past the nicotine-stained landlord who Sirius remembered from years ago replacing a lightbulb in the downstairs hall, before shifting back into a man as he hesitated outside of Remus' door.

He should've written. But he hadn't. What could he have said?

I can't tell you where I am, but the mangoes are excellent?

I'm sorry if my actions the year before last got you fired?

I need you. I want you. Is it too late, do you think, for us?

Hopeless, nervous, but more alive than he had felt in years, Sirius felt a rush of trepidation as he reached out and knocked on the door.

Footsteps on the other side. The door opened. Remus, bathed in light, appeared, soft from the evening and really there. Not a memory he'd had to fight in Azakban, nor a phantom he'd conjured whilst laying awake at night replaying the brief moment they'd shared together in the Shack in each other's embrace. Remus was real, regarding him with confusion, on the threshold of the doorway.

The desire to take Remus into his arms was almost overwhelming. In his mind's eye, Sirius saw himself plead passionately into Remus' ear, "Tell me I'm not too late?"

Reason and fear took over, and Sirius heard himself say in a voice that didn't seem quite like his own, "We can't talk here in the open."

Remus nodded and, without a further word, stepped aside so Sirius could enter and closed the door behind them.

[m00neroni]

so, (says with a thousand wips and on-going fics.) currently thinking about how the narrative would change and how much it would fix the situation if sirius knocked remus up during lie low at lupin's.

clearly, remus wouldn't find out until they are already living in 12 GP (and I feel sirius would be fucking livid at the idea of his pregnant partner growing his child in that hellhouse, so would they stay 24/7 there? another question.) by then, order missions are back - e.g the stake-outs at the department of mysteries to guard the prophecy - so they would have to tell the order that remus is absolutely not participating (which remus would hate, very obviously.)

with remus and sirius together all the time (because, honestly, a pregnant werewolf can't really risk it to be seen in society, can he?), would sirius' depression and general mental state deteriorate as much or would he be more settled? more rational? maybe to the point of being able to care more about his wellbeing?

obviously sirius would (rightfully and thankfully) still want to protect harry and keep an eye on him as much as possible, but would he put his unborn child at the same level? uhm.

and then, the baby would be born before june, which meant that by the time the department of mysteries battle takes place there is also the matter of another little human being in sirius' radar to take care of? would it affect his actions? I don't think he would have stayed behind (remus either, lol), but would he taunt bellatrix to the same extent? or would he play his cards better and survive?

uhm.

[sliebman10]

Second Chance

The door looked the same as it always had. Chipped white paint, a tarnished knocker in the shape of a wolf’s head James had bought as a housewarming present. The worn mat with a pawprint on it. He felt like he was falling into a memory.

Sirius bit his lip and knocked. The door opened and there he was. The same as always. Well, a little more grey streaked into his golden brown curls, a few more lines around his eyes. But still the same.

They stared at each other for a moment. 

“Hi Moony,” Sirius said softly.

Remus blinked and stood aside so he could come in. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“I can’t either,” Sirius admitted.

“How’s Harry?”

“Freaked out. I wanted to stay with him but…” Sirius sighed and smiled sadly at Remus. 

Remus reached out and put his hand on Sirius’s shoulder, a gesture that surprised them both. “He’ll be ok,” Remus said, more to reassure Sirius than because he really believed it. 

Remus showed Sirius to the guest room, without looking at him. They both felt the sudden tension between them. 

When it was time for dinner, Remus started working on it and Sirius joined him in the kitchen. They cooked using a mixture of magic and Muggles techniques, just like old times. Remus flicked on the wireless and an old Beatles song came on that they both started singing to, almost without thinking about it. 

After dinner, they sat in the living room. Sirius sat on the opposite end of the sofa but he really wanted to snuggle into Remus’s side like he used to. He didn’t know if he was allowed. There was so much he didn’t know. He could feel the weight of the past twelve years in between them.

When they got up to go to bed, they separated without saying a word. 

Sirius fell asleep quickly, but inevitably woke in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. He sat up, trying to catch his breath. 

And then Remus was there, putting his arms around Sirius, pulling him close. Sirius leaned into him, matching his breathing until the aftershocks of the nightmare melted away. 

“I missed you so much,” Remus said, into his damp hair. 

“Me too, Moony,” Sirius whispered. “Do you think we could…try again?”

Word Count: 387

@wolfstarmicrofic

[thebigstar-abouttofall]

Feel The Warm, Feel The Blood (Chapter 3, Like Past Visions of Osiris)

Explicit. Ch: 3/14. Wolfstar. Slow burn.

This is an unrelenting portrayal of post-Azkaban Wolfstar, from July 1995 to June 1996. A story about grappling with what you once loved, when you’ve both lost so much to the ravages of time. And the attempts, slowly but surely, to put the pieces back together.

Remus and Sirius head to Grimmauld Place for their first Order meeting in over a decade.

Sirius left when he was 16 and never turned back. He doesn't blame him one bit. It's worse than he could ever have imagined. Like staying in a fucking sarcophagus. A dusty crypt that's been empty too long. Stripped long ago of anything resembling familial love. Leaving dry ancestral fealty and blood ties in its wake. There's a stench of evil here too that Remus thinks would be impossible to get out, lurking in perpetuum in the shadowy upholstery and creaking floorboards.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Grief/Mourning

Words: 993

@wolfstarmicrofic

***

Sirius arrived at Remus’ cottage yesterday on Dumbledore's orders. It wasn’t that Remus minded, but a heads up would have been preferable to a bedraggled, but grinning Sirius just appearing at his door at 11 pm.

He made them both tea, and some toast for Sirius, and they sat on Remus’ worn sofa staring at each other for a few minutes.

“Would you like a bath?” Remus asked eventually.

“Is that your polite Moony way of telling me I smell?” Sirius laughed. “I’d love a bath, actually. Can’t remember the last time I had a bath.”

Remus nodded and took his tea into the bathroom to start running a bath. Sirius lingered in the doorway, sipping his own tea from his favourite mug. Remus had felt silly for keeping it but now, seeing it in his hands again, he was grateful to his ridiculous brain for forbidding him from throwing it away.

“Can’t believe you kept this,” Sirius said quietly. “Thank you.” Remus just smiled at him, “So. I’m assuming that Dumbledore didn’t warn you that I’d be here?”

“He didn’t,” Remus added bubbles to the bath, to Sirius’ delight. “But I’m glad you’re here. We have a lot of catching up to do.” Sirius smiled at him as he tested the temperature of the water. “I think this is done. Towels are on the rail. Do you need—”

“Would you stay in here with me?” Sirius’ gaze was fixed on the cup in his hands. “Please?”

Remus nodded, “Of course. Whatever you need.”

He looked away as Sirius shed his clothes and slid into the steaming water. He continued looking away as Sirius groaned blissfully before sitting on the floor with his back against the tub.

“You cut your hair.” Sirius said, “It’s nice.”

“Thanks. Uh, do you want some help with yours?” Remus asked, “I have conditioner. It wouldn’t be too hard to detangle, I’m sure.”

“You don’t think I should just cut it all off?” Sirius sounded surprised.

“Well, do you want to cut it all off?”

“No,” He said in a small voice, “But I convinced myself that was the only way of salvaging it. It’s pretty bad. There are no hairbrushes in Azkaban, but I think being Padfoot helped.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He turned his head slightly to smile at Sirius.

“Thanks, Moons.” Remus thought his heart might stop hearing Sirius call him ‘Moons’ again, but he schooled his features and took a couple of deep breaths. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rested his head on the edge of the tub. “You want me to put some music on? I have all our old records.”

“Of course you do.” Sirius chuckled, “Oh, shit. I bet I’ve missed so much. How many new Queen albums are there?”

And it was at that moment that Remus’ heart broke. Sirius, he realised, had no idea that his idol was dead. He really had missed so much. It had only been a few years since Freddie Mercury’s death, but it still devastated Remus when he thought of the end of his life or listened to The Show Must Go On. So he tried not to.

“There were a few in the 80s,” Remus said, guardedly.

“But nothing new?” Sirius swirled his hands under the hot water and smiled at the sensation. Then he paused and looked up at Remus. “Please don’t tell me they split up.”

Remus shook his head but knew his eyes were about to spill over and give him away. “Worse, sorry.”

Sirius stilled, “Tell me.”

“In the 80s, there was this illness that mostly affected queer people, queer men especially. AIDS. It’s not a death sentence anymore, but it was then. It was terrifying. So many of us died, Pads. Freddie died. A few years ago. It was awful.” He inhaled sharply, “I’m so sorry.”

He looked up at Sirius and saw his face frozen in a look of pure anguish. A single tear rolled down his right cheek as a sob choked out from his chest. “No.” He whispered, “No.”

Remus turned around, no longer caring about seeing Sirius’ body. He reached out a hand to wipe the tear away and Sirius grasped it in his own. Remus sat on the side of the bath and pulled Sirius into his chest, wet clothes be damned. Sirius sobbed as Remus held him, stroked his matted hair, and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said again. “Queen and Bowie released a single together, days after you went to Azkaban*. It felt like the cruellest thing in the universe on top of everything else. There’s a lot you haven’t heard. We can listen when you’re ready. I didn’t even think about…”

They stayed like that until the bath water was cold, Sirius bordering on catatonic, nodding as Remus told him about songs and albums that he’d love. Sirius wondered what the point was. Everyone was dead or dying, Voldemort was back, and he had no way of protecting Harry, or Remus. He closed his eyes as Remus gently washed his hair with warm water and did his best to detangle the knots. He stared vacantly at the ceiling of Remus’ bedroom for hours and listened to Remus breathe.

After a few hours, he got up and headed for the record player. He rifled through Remus’ records until one caught his eye, with cartoon versions of the band on the front, ‘A Kind of Magic’. He scanned the tracklist and found himself drawn to side 2. He slipped it onto the turntable, dropping the needle onto the vinyl, a very familiar crackle that made him smile tentatively as he turned the volume down.

As soon as the vocals started There’s no time for us, There's no place for us, Sirius found himself crying again. Within seconds Remus’ arms were around him and he held on tight. He wasn’t sure which of them started swaying gently first.

Who waits forever anyway?

***

* this is my villain origin story.

[alltheyoungmoons]

the ghosts of my memories won't let me sleep

Rated T, 2.1k words - Summer of 1995. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, has become the new base of the Order of the Phoenix, but Sirius finds it hard to fall asleep on his first night there.

The clock in the drawing room chimed thrice, the sound shattering the mortiferous silence of the ancient townhouse. Sirius heard it all the way from the kitchens, in the basement. He hadn’t set foot in that house, or in Islington for that matter, for twenty years, twelve of them spent in hell. He thought he quite deserved a drink to celebrate the unlikely return, and remembered very well where Orion stored his liquor collection. Kreacher had caught him tinkering around that cupboard several times, the young boy mesmerised by all manners of fancy bottles and delicious-looking liquids. He produced some ice with his wand inside of a fine crystal goblet he plucked from the mantle top and poured a healthy dose of aged Firewhisky that must’ve cost a fortune, stirring slowly. He brought the glass to his lips, inhaling the smokey, rich smell of the alcohol. He looked down and sighed, and placed the goblet back on the table. With a tap of his wand he transfigured the goblet to a mundane-looking Old Fashioned glass.

“Much better,” he muttered to himself, and went for the stairs. 

Sirius, for all his misfortunes, had never thought he’d be back in this house. He hadn’t thought twice about giving it to the Order, relishing in the fact that their parents would be rolling in their graves if they knew. It had been the easiest decision he’d ever made. He didn’t think he’d be forced to stay there, though. He’d take his cell at Azkaban or a frigid Scottish cave over his childhood bedroom any day. Thankfully, Remus was there with him.

He planned to nurse his drink on one of the library’s sittees, hopefully with a useful read in hand. He felt wide awake, adrenaline coursing through his veins just like after a duel, or a flight, or a quick shag. If he couldn’t sleep, the least he could do was keep his mind occupied. 

He was deep in thought when a rotting step whined under his foot, and he looked up, flinching instinctively. 

He was in front of his mother’s portrait, the curtains drawn wide open, but she wasn’t screaming, as she did that morning, when he, Remus, Moody and Kingsley breached the entrance of Grimmauld Place after a decade of abandonment. 

Instead, she looked at him gravely and with disdain, her mouth a tight line. 

In this silence, Sirius had the chance to properly see her. She wore her mourning dress, black cap and veil to cover her silver hair that matched the gray in her eyes, the same that were looking back at her now. She was so different from how Sirius last remembered her - a beautiful, regal woman now turned old and bitter, her hateful scowl forever impressed on her once smooth skin in deep wrinkles. 

He broke the silence first. “Hello, mother,” he said, tilting his glass towards her in a sort of cheering gesture.

She didn’t bother to look him in the eyes, her gaze wandering out of frame. “You’re no son of mine.”. Her tone was flat, indifferent. 

“Believe me, I’ve spent the better part of my life hoping just that. But alas,” he opened his arms as if to show off his surroundings, shrugging “The house opened for me. So.”

No response. Walburga kept staring off into the distance. Sirius wondered silently what she could see within the dimension of the frame.

“Guess you didn’t disown me after all,”

“Well, You won’t catch me complaining about it. It’s been pretty useful lately.”

“The inheritance, I mean”,

“Turns out being put in prison for twelve years is an excellent savings plan.”

Sirius saw her eyes dart to him for a moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the mention of Azkaban that did it, or the fact that he had the gall to bring up a subject so common as saving money. 

He took a sip, suppressing a smirk. 

There was a thrill in being able to talk to her without the fear of retaliation that was engrained in their every exchange since Sirius was ten. 

He still felt a little nauseous, though. 

“You were sent to Azkaban.” She said, then. It sounded like an affirmation, but Sirius knew better. His mother never did questions, only statements. 

Sirius nodded. He studied her reaction. 

Her eyes would’ve glinted if they weren’t oil paint set on canvas.

“Just like your cousin.” 

Sirius had been wondering when the comparisons to other members of the family would start, a fixture of Walburga’s chinwag. 

“Dear Bellatrix was there, alright,” Sirius nodded, circling the remnants of the ice around his glass. “The whole jolly company was there, eventually, the inner circle at least. Saw them coming in one by one. But I was there first.”

He looked up at her, and saw one of the corners of her thin mouth lift slightly. He was starting to enjoy this. He wanted to make her believe he’d recanted his belief in the end, and then pull the rug from under her feet. He wanted her to ask. 

“And I was the first out. First Wizard to ever do it.”

“I’ve been at large for the better part of two years now.”

“Thankfully no one can find me here.”

He winked.

Walburga sat up, straightening her already impossibly rigid posture. The shadow of pride swiftly passed on her features - Sirius recognised it immediately. He used to chase that impossible shadow as if it was his only reason to live. Before Hogwarts. Before he knew better. 

They studied each other for what felt like minutes, their stern features a mirror of each other. 

“How.”

Sirius rose to his full height. Not so much a question as a demand. Still, she had caved.

“Well,” he started, with a chuckle. “I tried to avenge my best friends’ deaths and was falsely incriminated because of the curse of the name that I carry! This title taints everything it touches like poison, it fosters animosity and mistrust, it follows like a haunting! The system this family helped to build sent me straight into the Dementors’ mouth without even sparing the thought of a trial, just because I must’ve done it, I must’ve been rotten after all, because I am a Black! First and foremost, forever scarred to drag around your filthy, thoughtless, sheeple beliefs with me even if I made extensively clear that I never wanted to be associated with you or the obscenities you preached! You were always so concerned about decorum and standing and reputation that you never noticed that all of those things had slipped from your control decades ago! Outside of your stupid Sacred Twenty-Eight circle-jerk everyone thinks you’re utterly mental!”

Twelve years of pure agony, of building a steady hatred for them and all they came to signify, had come out in almost a single breath, his tone clear but never loud, precise and cutting - he had learned from the best, after all. 

Sirius had never hated his family during his school years, and even after, during the First War, he tried his best to act like they never existed at all. Indifference was the best way to hurt someone, he knew that well. But in Azkaban there were no distractions, and he found that rage was an excellent companion, keeping his flame alive. He had been caught because of Peter, sure, but he was imprisoned without a trial because of his name. It was never going to go any other way. 

Walburga’s face had turned into a mask of blistering fury, huffing angrily, chest heaving - she stayed silent for a moment, and Sirius had to remind himself that she was a painting. He would not flinch. 

So he took another sip, smacking his tongue at the end.

Walburga lunged towards him fruitlessly, shrieking, her rage bound to the two-dimensional space of the canvas, starting off her usual tirade:

“Filth! Traitor! Coming here in the house of my forefathers slandering the name of the Noble and Most Ancient House in Britain! How dare you come back here, you scum! I knew since the day you came back from your first semester at Hogwarts that you were going to be nothing but a criminal! A degenerate! Fraternising with blood traitors and half-bloods! Having impure thoughts about them! You’re nothing but utter filth and I cursed the day you were born until I drew my last breath! Traitor!”

Sirius just stayed there, leaning along the rail, finishing off his drink and letting her words slide off him, like water off a duck’s back. There was something cathartic about letting his feelings explode like this, with no filters, even if it meant they’d probably have to endure Walburga’s shrill shouting for a while. The treat had not been without its consequences; still, better be subject to her incoherent string of slurs rather than one of her well-placed hexes. 

There was a sudden noise from up the stairs, and after a moment, a sleepy Remus appeared, in his pyjama, wand drawn. He stopped a few steps from Sirius, looking confused and disheveled from being woken so abruptly. Sirius looked up at him tenderly and smiled, and Remus let his arms rest down to his sides, donning a grumpy expression. 

“Merlin’s balls, Sirius. I thought someone broke in.” Remus had to shout over Walburga’s yelling to make himself heard.

Sirius couldn’t help but grin at him. “Couldn’t sleep, bumped into Mother. Thought it’d be rude of me not to greet her properly.”

Remus squeezed his eyes at him suspiciously. His gaze registered the empty glass and Sirius’ fingers nervously tapping on them. 

“You had to go and tick her off uh? What year is this, 1973?” Remus had stepped down a few and was now eye-to-eye with Sirius. He was studying his face in that way of his, as if gathering information and quickly making a log of it in his head. 

They hadn’t talked about it, exactly. They had a steady correspondence streak going since the summer after Sirius - and Peter - escaped, but some things couldn’t be committed to parchment. It was clear that they were both inclined to naturally fall back into their old ways, but so much had changed, and even when forced to share a bed - seriously what was Dumbledore thinking, just sending him there, no notice, as if Remus lived in a mansion, as if Remus wanted anything to do with him after all those years… it had been extremely awkward to say the least. 

And for all the free, comfortable beds that Grimmauld Place had to offer, Sirius still couldn’t sleep.

But the love was still there. They both felt it. If it was never going to be like it had been before, Sirius was fine with that. Remus was his oldest friend. 

Still, it was fun, sometimes, to slip into the old ways. 

“You know, I have an idea that would really aggravate her”. Sirius glanced at Remus’ lips and wriggled his eyebrows. 

Remus arched one brow and crossed his arms. “How many of these have you had?” 

Sirius huffed as if he were offended, but smiled. 

“Come on, help me draw the old bat’s curtains.”

“Fine, but I want a drink too, afterwards,”

“Fine, but can I sleep in your bed,”

They looked at each other, spooked, and then warily glanced at the portrait that was still mumbling angrily, quieter now. It didn’t seem to have noticed them.

Sirius was just bantering along, but the truth had its way of slipping out. 

Remus’ lips were parted, and his cheeks were flushed. Sirius couldn’t stand the buried pain in his eyes. He looked down, and whispered.

“Can’t sleep.” He found his gaze “This fucking house, y’know?”

Remus exhaled sharply, and nodded. 

“Sure, yeah.” He whispered back.

“It’s not really her, you know.” Remus added, still looking at him, searching.

“Yeah… yeah I know. Still. Felt good to take some things off my chest, I guess.”

“Might want try to piss off Phineas Nigellus’ portrait next. That one’s more animated.”

Sirius tutted “Remus, don’t give me any ideas.”

Remus smirked “Bet he loves an argument just as much as you do,”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but he was elated. It was the first time they had been able to joke between them as if no time had passed at all.

“Tease.”

They yanked the curtains shut, and tried a few silencing spells to boot. When they were done, Remus plucked Sirius’ tumbler off the railing and gave him a delicate shove.

“Come on then, Master Black. Show me where that cranky old elf keeps all the booze.”

[labyrinthhofmymind]

we all know i’m obsessed with older wolfstar and am their no. 1 fan (and if you didn’t know that, now you do!) so here’s four songs that embody their “lie low at lupins” era/them just getting their rightfully deserved happy ending

1. wildflower and barely by hozier (THIS IS THEIR SONG, if you’ve read presque vu then you probably understand when i say that this song gives the exact vibe of when they’re staying at remus’ parents house in the country, it’s just GAHHHHH it makes me feel so many things I LOVE IT)

2. fresh out the slammer by taylor swift (duh. also. this song gives me chills, purely because of how wolfstar coded it is)

3. skinny dipping by sabrina carpenter (the reunion vibes??? the second chances??? ITS THEM YOUR HONOUR)

4. sweet nothing (wolfstar just standing in the kitchen humming cause they got the peace and happiness they so rightfully deserved????!!!!! YEAH DON’T MIND ME JUST GONNA GO CRY)

i have so many more but here are the top ones that NOBODY asked for

[brigid-faye]

lie low at lupin's

“I don’t care if you…” Remus tries, after, with Sirius quiet in his arms. (He's so thin it makes Remus' chest ache; he tries to stop noticing.) “I don’t… wherever you went the last couple of years, I don’t care if you…”

He can’t quite get the words out because it’s not what he means. He deeply does not care if Sirius was with someone else wherever he was hiding, but asking if he was might suggest that he does care.

What Remus wants to say is I have been. Of course I’ve been with other people in the last 14 years, you must know that. I loved a couple of them, for a while. But I don’t want you to care, please don’t care.

Sirius says nothing, just shifts a little, almost shaking his head, pressing his face more firmly into Remus' neck.

That little head shake could mean: I have and it doesn't matter.

or: I haven't. I haven't been with anyone but you since we were 16 years old. My last time was our last time, 21 and terrified and furious with each other, fucking unceremoniously one rare moment together at the end of that October. There were tears in my eyes and you didn't ask why, Moony, you didn't ask why and maybe if you had, it would have changed everything.

So Remus doesn't ask. He closes his eyes and turns his head, pressing his cheek to Sirius' hair, inhaling deeply and holding him closer. And he doesn't ask.

[orchideous-nox]

this is our last dance - a lie low at lupin's microfic

Gonna apologise now, I guess? Got a bit angsty.

I listened to this song a few too many times after watching an X-Men edit (it was Cherik in case you were curious) and then just started writing.

[meggiejolly]

A Relationship of Full Moons (Wolfstar)

Word Count: 2969 Tags: Sirius Balck/Remus Lupin, post Sirius in Azkaban, second wizarding war, lie low at Lupin's Summary: After Azkaban Sirius is staying with Remus and tries to get back to some semblance of normal with their friendship and how they handle the full moons together. Sirius' plans for the 20th anniversary of the Marauders becoming Animagi finally make the two of them talk about some things. ~ "Moony, come on. It's been 20 years! Can you believe it? We have to celebrate!" Sirius leaned over the back of the chair Remus was sitting in. He was so close to Remus' face, that the steam from the fresh cup of tea in Remus' hand tickled his nose. Remus sighed and turned his head slightly, bringing his lip dangerously close to Sirius'. "We can. I'll get us some Firewhiskey and Butterbeer and we can reminisce about old times all night. I'm sure we'll find an old Gryffindor scarf somewhere." Notes: This fic was written for a writing challenge from my favourite ever discord server. The prompt was "forest" and my original idea for the fic was very different than what I ended up writing, but the characters just went another way and it didn't feel right to force my original plan in. It's less forest themed than originally intended, but I like what I ended up with.

After Sirius came back from Azkaban and was told "to lie low at Lupin's" it had taken months until Remus had let Padfoot anywhere near the wolf during the full moon. 

At first Remus would leave to transform somewhere else without even telling Sirius where he went. Eventually he made use of the cellar beneath the tiny cottage they both lived in, but he still wouldn’t let Padfoot keep him company. 

Sirius could hear the wolf howl and scream all night and it drove him crazy. 

Eventually, when Remus had gotten his hands on some Wolfsbane potion again, he reluctantly allowed Padfoot to be with him in the cellar. 

Being down there, locked in, was too much like being back in his cell in Azkaban for Sirius liking, but being able to help Remus, to be close to him again, to feel like some things could go back to the way they were before, made up for it. 

Padfoot and the wolf spend all night curled up together in a way that Sirius and Remus couldn’t do as humans. There was too much left unsaid between them, too many years, too much pain.

A couple of months later, Remus couldn’t get Wolfsbane potion in time and Sirius was afraid he would bar him from the cellar again. He didn’t dare bring it up, but when the full moon came and Remus went down to the cellar, he didn’t stop Sirius from following him. He even held open the door invitingly. 

That night was harder and they both ended up with a few scratches to show for it the next morning. Sirius didn't care, it was another step back to their old self, it felt familiar, the patching each other up the next morning, the sleepiness the next day. It also made him miss James and Peter even more than usual, but he could take that if it took away a little of the strain between him and Remus. 

They continued like that, spending full moons together in the cellar, sometimes with Wolfsbane, sometimes without. Slowly their relationship began to get back to something almost resembling their friendship from before. Sirius knew it would never be the same, they were irrevocably changed and broken, but maybe together they could mend some cracks. 

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