#like what kind of crack are they doing to write the most mouth slapping wolfstar there ever was

[ifyoucandaniel]

why are jegulus authors the best wolfstar authors…. like stg they’re putting smth in their side wolfstar tag. every time i read a jegulus fic and it’s got background wolfstar and the author switches prospectives or has an epilogue for them it’s always the most scrumptious kicking screaming giggling wolfstar i’ve ever read. and they always NAIL their characterization ??? what is it

[ashes-and-ashes]

So I was thinking the other night about the parallels between many of my favourite ships. Lightning and Marauders was a piece about Drarry and Wolfstar but I was also thinking about how similar Wolfstar and Grindeldore were, with the same desperate loyalty between two people who would quite literally kill for each other. I did write something similar to this before but I like this one much better :)

Anyways, here it is!

~

The office hadn’t changed one bit.

Sirius spins in a slow circle, taking everything in; the floor-to-celling windows, the half drawn silk curtains, the spiral rugs on the floor and the cabinets full of glittering pieces of metal. He stares at the huge oak desk, all carved lions and leafy vines and grins, remembering when him and Remus -

The sound of footsteps cuts his thoughts off. Sirius tried to banish the flush from his cheeks, instead turning to watch Dumbledore enter the room.

He’s dressed in full Hogwarts regalia today, all flowing purple robes and silver stars. His beard is braided neatly too, all the way down to his chest, his eyes twinkling even in the dimness of the room.

“Sirius.”

He inclines his head. Dumbledore crosses over, sits down on the other side of the desk.

“You called, Headmaster?”

Dumbledore laughs. “You’re not at school anymore. There’s no need for formalities.”

Sirius shrugs. He slides into the chair opposite of Dumbledore, studying the surface of the wood. One hand taps an uneven beat at his side, alternating scraping fingernails and palm slaps. Dumbledore doesn’t seem bothered by this at all; he just continues to watch Sirius with a calm gaze.

“Sorry,” Sirius says, after what seemed like hours of silence. “What did you want?”

Dumbledore laughs. “Patience never was your strong suit Mr Black.”

“I seem to be doing alright without an abundance of it.”

“I suppose it’s even why I picked you to coordinate the Order.”

Sirius acknowledges the point. He stares at his wrists, the moon inked on the skin just above his pulse point. It was enchanted, to change shapes with the lunar cycle - right now it was a beautful crescent, dark against the tracery of his veins. He thumbs the skin absentmindedly, tracing the pad of his finger over the smooth lines of flesh.

God he missed Remus, so much that sometimes it hurt. Remus never even told him - Sirius had woken up one day to a cold bed and a note.

Si,

D sent me to Werewolf Camps. Don’t know when I’ll be back.

I love you more then anything,

Re

He clenches his teeth against the rising wave of anger slowly filling him. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. They were at war.

It still hurt though, not being able to see, to touch Re. Almost 4 months later and he still hadn’t received any information.

“Really,” Sirius says, in the silence of the room. “Why the hell did you call me here?”

Dumbledore just nods. “Ah, yes. I just wanted to...talk.”

Sirius snorts. “You brought me all the way to Hogwarts just to talk?”

“I thought the act of speaking to you in your old home would help.”

Sirius shrugs. He yanks at a stray hit of hair curling into his face, tucking it behind his ear. “No you didn’t. You want me to do something.”

Dumbledore just studies him. Finally he tilts his head, fingers clasped together on the desk. For the first time Sirius imagined what those butterflies in those glass boxes felt like; metal driven through wings, pinning him down and tearing him apart. That’s what Dumbeldore’s eyes looked like - huge jagged pins that stuck Sirius to the ground.

Finally Dumbledore spoke, his words slow and low. “You don’t mind if I tell you a bit of a story, do you?”

Sirius shrugs.

Dumbledore leans back in his chair, regarding Sirius with that piercing gaze. “Well, once, back in my youth I...met a very special...someone.”

“Congrats,” Sirius says. “Who’s the lovely bird?”

Dumbledore smiles. “His name was Gellert.”

The words hit Sirius like a ton of bricks. He gasps, mouth hanging open and wide, staring at Dumbeldore’s calm face. “So - you and - “

“Which part,” Dumbeldore’s asks calmly, “Do you find surprising?”

“The fact that - you were friends with - “

“Oh.” Dumbledore laughs. “We were more then that. Much like yourself and Mr Lupin. We were arrogant and bold and brave and all we wanted was to change the world.”

“So you were in - “ Sirius chokes on his words - he can’t imagine Dumbledore as anything more then his celibate professor.

Dumbledore just raises an eyebrow. “Love? Yes. It was a whirlwind, a breath in the space of a summer and sometimes I wonder if we would have lasted had we had more time.”

“But it didn’t,” Sirius says, hearing the finality at the end of Dumbledore’s words, the hard slam of a door. “It ended.”

Dumbledore inclined his head. “It did.”

“And do you regret it?”

Dumbledore just hums. He gets to his feet, suddenly looking very old, like the years had poured down on him turning youth into decay. “I can’t say I do.”

Sirius bites his lip, lets the legs of his chair slam down onto the floor. He winces at the sharp crack of wood against stone but Dumbledore didn’t seem to mind. “Get to the point, Professor. What fucked up your relationship?”

He almost expects a scolding, a hint of disapproval for the coarse language but Dumbledore didn’t look bothered by the swearing. He seemed almost contemplative, like he had been yanked years into the past, twisting and falling through memories in that way that was so familiar to Sirius.

“Gellert was...intense,” Dumbledore says and the way he spoke made Sirius’ heart clench. It was the same way he spoke about Remus, the love so evident in every word, the way the name sounded holy against one’s lips. “Certainly too much for others to handle. He was passionate too - he put his soul into everything that he did and when those things failed it practically killed him. I suppose that’s why he was drawn to me - we both had that streak of determination, fixation to the point of collapse. I loved him like that, oblivious to everything else.”

Sirius had an awful feeling that he knew where this conversation was going.

“And I let myself be blinded by him. I ignored all his faults, all his weakness, that vicious cruel streak and that calculating edge. I let myself be corrupted by the thought of what could be. It was only much, much later that I realized what he had done to me.”

Sirius stares at him in disbelief. “Oh,” he says, voice heavy with sarcasm. “Oh I see what you’re doing here. Let me finish the story for you. You realized who Grindelwald truely was and you left him. You became a better person, the most powerful wizard in the world and Grindelwald was consumed by his anger and his grief until finally, you destroyed him. Right?”

He refuses to drop Dumbledore’s gaze, his chest burning with anger. “Right?”

“Precisely. Although it was far less dramatic then how you describe.”

Sirius just laughs. “And now you’re going to start telling me just how similar I am to Grindelwald. The same viciousness, the same short-sightedness, the same disregard for the rules. You’ll tell me how I’m self destructive and unstable and how one day I’ll snap and drag everyone down with me. And - “ Sirius breaks off. “And Remus is like you, right? Pure and noble and he’s too good for me, I’ll never be enough for him. Well, joke’s on you. I already knew that. And unlike you I knew that right from the beginning - “

“There’s a few things wrong with that,” Dumbledore says calmly, shutting Sirius up. “Firstly, I never thought I was too good for Gellert. On the contrary, I thought I wasn’t good enough. That seems to be the trend with these kinds of relationships, self doubt on both ends.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Wonderful.”

“And secondly, you are both correct and incorrect with your statements. You are right that I’m using my own failed relationship as a metaphor between you and Mr Lupin. You are correct that I have assigned both of you roles, comparisons between myself and Gellert. But you are incorrect in your assignment.”

Sirius blinks. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” Dumbledore says, “That you are more like myself then Gellert.”

Sirius blinks. “Okay,” he says slowly. “So this wasn’t a conversation about how I’ll turn into the next dark wizard?”

“No,” Dumbledore says. “This is a conversation about fatal flaws and the unquestionable loyalty between two people who love each other.”

The words hit him like a sack of bricks, hard and aching, making him gasp desperately for breath.

“There’s a spy in our ranks,” Dumbledore says, and Sirius thinks he feels his heart stop in his chest. “A spy who’s been leaking our secrets, our plans of attack.”

“No,” Sirius says. “It’s not me. I would never - how could you think - “

Dumbledore shakes his head. “On the contrary. I do not think the spy is you, Mr Black.”

“Then who - “ Sirius cuts himself off viciously. “No,” he whispers. “He would never.”

Dumbledore just leans forward. “I would like to know everything you have ever told Mr Lupin.”