The Sweetest Thing

And in the darkest night

If my memory serves me right

We'll never turn back time

Forgetting you but not the time

Remus and Sirius sat in blazing sunlight outside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, idly twirling their spoons in rapidly-melting chocolate-flavoured goo. In Diagon Alley, high summer lived up to its name; the sun was riding high in the sky and the rank scent of exhausted, incontinent dogs and sweaty people permeated everything. Both Sirius and Remus, their senses more highly attuned than most people's, had taken to performing Blocking Charms on their noses before going outside every day.

'So, do you think we should start making a move?' Remus leaned forward slightly and scooped up a fingerful of ice-cream, gobbing it into his mouth with more speed than grace, and looking at Sirius inquiringly.

'Nah,' his friend muttered, eyes closed. He was limp against the white-metal chair, his posture suggesting that every bone in his body had been melted into utter relaxation. ''M really comfy here. We can go in later.'

'Okay,' Remus agreed, pulling over Sirius' bowl and starting to scrape out the leavings. For a few days after every full moon he always felt ravenously hungry, and often got pregnancy-like cravings. Sirius had got used to nipping down to the kitchen at four in the morning to fetch peanuts and raspberry jam from the house-elves during term-time. Although notoriously self-centred, even Sirius couldn't stomach hours of Remus' muffled pleas and moans.

After a while, Sirius appeared to fall asleep, and Remus guiltily retrieved his History of Magic textbook from his satchel. Although they were only a fortnight into their summer hols, Sirius had declared that his coming-of-age deserved at least a month's respite from homework. Remus - whose birthday was within a week of Sirius' - seemed to have been caught in the net strike, and he hadn't had the heart to do any study in front of Sirius. (When he was out of it, it didn't count.)

Staying in London for a month had been Sirius' idea, but Remus staying too had been Sirius' birthday present to him. There was no way in hell Remus could have afforded it off his own bat, but Sirius waved it off, as he did everything to do with money.

'Can I get you lads anything more?' Florean - a young man whose florid appearance matched his name - inquired, fountain quill at the ready.

Remus winced; he couldn't keep shelling out for ice-cream if he wanted any spending money for the rest of the holidays. But neither could he legitimately take up café space if he wasn't eating café food. Sirius would have shrugged off Florean's request with one of his stomach-liquidising smiles, but Sirius was in the Land of Nod, and the only thing he was shrugging off - hopefully - were his reputedly detailed wet dreams.

'Sure - um, a coffee, please?'

'Milk and sugar?'

'Both, thanks.'

'Grand.' Florean leaned forward in sudden interest. 'History of Magic, eh?'

'Yes,' Remus groaned. 'I'm doing my seventh-year thesis on the origins of witch-burnings, their Muggle influences and so on, but I can't seem to get a handle on it.'

'Let me see,' Florean said, picking up the parchment. Remus let him. Florean was a bit of a berk, if he remembered correctly, but he had got full marks in his History of Magic NEWT - a Hogwarts first - and had also been the first student Binns had ever remembered the name of.

Remus rested his cheek on his hand, wanting to close his eyes, but feeling that it would be impolite. Florean's quill dashed across the parchment, while his doughy forehead was squished up into an unbecoming frown. Remus thought - ungratefully - that he looked like an uncooked scone.

'There.' Florean set down the parchment with an unnecessary flourish. 'A few notes that might help. Any time you need a hand, you know where I am.'

'Why, thanks, Florean,' Remus said in surprise. The parchment was covered in bulleted points executed in an extremely loopy hand.

'My pleasure.' Florean shrugged. 'I loved History of Magic. Are you planning to go further with it?'

'I'm not sure yet,' Remus hedged. 'I was thinking about trying for a job in the Ministry's Archives, but they're like gold dust.'

'A good History NEWT won't see you wrong,' Florean assured him. 'Like I said, if there's any thing I can do to help -'

'Thanks,' Remus repeated, feeling awkward. Florean bustled off, and Sirius wedged open an eye.

'Oh, is he gone? Good. I thought he'd never leave.'

'You were awake?' Remus accused.

'...No,' Sirius denied, too late. Remus' eyes narrowed.

'Cruelty, thy name is Sirius,' he declared.

'What? He seemed keen - to help.' Sirius snickered. He aped Florean's rather high, breathy tones. 'Any time you need a hand - I bet he'll give you a hand, all right. And a hea - '

'That's enough,' Remus snapped. 'Jeez, you never let up, do you?'

'Florean fancies you,' Sirius said matter-of-factly, twirling his spoon. 'Deal with it.'

'He does not!' Remus denied, squirming with embarrassment. 'He was just trying to be friendly -'

'Which is why you were mad at me for pretending to be asleep?' Sirius raised one arched eyebrow. 'Come now, admit it to Padfoot, your auld sod. Moony and Florean, up a tree, k-i-s-'

'Shut up!' Remus hissed, scarlet now. He gifted Sirius with a hefty kick under the table. This, more than Remus' admonishment, seemed to close his mouth. Remus sat back, crossing his arms defensively. Although Sirius' constant needling about people fancying Remus was irritating - and it didn't seem to matter what gender, age, race or creed they were, nor indeed did the fact that nobody, but nobody, fancied Remus - there was no denying that Remus had often caught Florean looking at him when they came for their daily shot of ice-cream. It was disconcerting to say the least, and Sirius' teasing didn't help, not when Remus was self-conscious enough as it was.

By the time Sirius had recovered enough to be capable of coherent speech - he always milked injuries for all they were worth - Florean had returned with Remus' coffee. Remus accepted it with downcast eyes and a mumbled 'thanks', and fumbled in the pocket of his threadbare jeans for change. Florean waved him away.

'On the house,' he said, and hurried off to take another tables' orders.

Sirius opened his mouth.

'Don't say it,' Remus groaned, burying his head in his arms.

~

'Karaoke!' Sirius exclaimed, with every evidence of delight.

'No, they didn't have that method of torture back then,' Remus said, distracted by the sight of a new window display in Flourish and Blotts. He squinted; there was a pile of brightly-covered books, each bearing the portrait of a young wizard with bright blonde hair. He resolved to take a closer look.

'No, Moony, look!' Sirius tugged on his sleeve impatiently, and with a sigh, Remus turned around.

'Oh, a poster,' he said, unimpressed. His grasp of sarcasm had never been as sure as that of Sirius' or James', but even the thick-skinned Sirius seemed to pick up on the distinctly unawed tone in his voice.

'Aw, come on, are you telling me you've never wanted to sing in front of a bunch of people?' Sirius cajoled.

'Amazingly enough, no, I haven't,' Remus said, rolling his eyes.

'I think it sounds wicked,' Sirius said, a tad petulantly. 'It's on at the Leaky Cauldron next week. I think I'm going to sign up.'

'You do that,' Remus encouraged. 'In fact, bring James. You can use him to shield you from the rotten vegetables and things.'

'I'll have you know my singing voice is perfectly acceptable.'

'To asthmatic vultures, perhaps. Come on, Padfoot, I've heard you wheezing your way through 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs' down the Three Broomsticks. And trying to manage the Hedgehog song in the shower. Whatever key you sing in, it's not in any aural scale I've ever heard of. Or just plain heard.'

Sirius' face took on that granite-edged look that told Remus he was going to do a thing, come hell or high water, or even heaven, the Last Judgement and low tides. It said: I'm not going to be budged, and there's no point even trying. So Remus didn't. He was too young to die, anyway.

'Look, you know you're going to do it whatever I say,' he added. 'Sign up. I'm going to the bookshop.'

'What, again?' Sirius looked horror-struck. 'We went there yesterday!'

'Yes, and they've got in a new shipment.' Remus pointed to the window display. 'Besides,' he said, with some asperity, 'when you only have enough money to buy one book, you spend your time choosing. I'll see you in an hour, okay?'

'No, Moony, wait.' Remus halted at the oddly pleading note in Sirius' voice. 'Look, I'll come with you.'

'No, don't.' Remus shook his head, speaking over his shoulder. 'You'll just get bored and moody and keep asking me if I'm done. You can amuse yourself for hour, surely. I'll meet you at the Cauldron for tea.'

'Fine, I will! Amuse myself, that is!' Sirius shouted at him as he crossed the busy street. Remus ignored him.

He stepped into the musty darkness of the bookshop, marvelling at the difference between the interior and the almost painfully hot street outside. Taking a moment to blink yellow spots from his eyes, he moved forward.

A pile of spanking new books - copies of those in the window - were on a table pushed prominently to the centre of the shop. Curious, Remus picked one up.

'Wanderings with Werewolves,' he read aloud, and winced. He glanced at the blurb, and his eyes widened in disbelief. 'Homorphus Charm? That's a myth...and lycanthrophy never reached Australia.' He realised he was talking to himself, and tossed the book back on the table in disgust. One of the shop assistants spotted him, and hurried over, looking most displeased.

'Excuse me!' he said snootily. 'If you don't mind, these books are for sale, not to mention top of the bestseller list. I'd thank you to have a care in handling them.'

'Sorry,' Remus muttered, feeling himself flush. 'It slipped.' Of course, Sirius and James spent all their time in bookshops yanking books in and out of shelves, thumbing through them and bending covers, and not a word was said to them. But when Remus, who usually treated books with respect bordering on reverence, dropped one too quickly, he was pounced upon. It was so typical.

All at once, he didn't feel like browsing any longer. Jamming his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders, he stepped outside - right underneath a sudden sun shower. Grimacing as his hair was plastered to his head, he slipped and slid across the suddenly slick streets, past people shrieking in shock and anger as their light summer clothing and paper-wrapped parcels were treated to an unexpected drenching. One good thing, he thought glumly, was that at least the fetid smell was being washed away.

He found Sirius nursing a pint and a plate of chips in the Leaky Cauldron, looking pensive. He glanced up when Remus entered, and his expression took on one of bemused shock as he blinked repeatedly. Remus slid into the booth across from him, and plucked his sodden shirt away from his body, feeling a sort of helpless rage at being so wet and cold when he could see the sun blazing once more through the grimy windows.

'It rained,' he explained, then wondered why. Sirius was sitting there like a stuffed mullet, mouth open. Remus frowned, and debated slapping him. Before he could, Sirius shook his head, blinked yet again and took a deep draught of his pint. When he put it down, the tops of his high cheekbones were lightly crested with pink.

'You shouldn't drink so fast,' Remus told him. 'You'll get a drinker's nose.'

'I didn't expect you back so soon,' Sirius said in a low voice, staring rather fixatedly at his cooling chips. Inspired, Remus leaned over and nabbed one.

'Yeah,' he said rather grimly, in between bites, 'I didn't feel like window-shopping, after all.'

Wordlessly, Sirius pushed the plate across the table, and Remus grinned his thanks. 'So, did you sign up for your cabaret?'

'Karaoke,' Sirius corrected him. 'Yes, I did.'

'So?' Remus demanded. 'What are you singing?'

Sirius shrugged, unusually truculent. 'Secret.'

'Oh.' Remus felt, if anything, even more deflated. It was just one of those days where little bad things mounted up into a huge molehill of dung. Best way to resolve it was to end the day. 'I think I'll have an early night.'

'It's six o'clock,' Sirius said, aghast. 'Aren't you going to have a drink, even?'

'I don't really want to,' Remus said, rolling his shoulders. 'I'm actually knackered. A nice cup of tea and a book, that's all I want.'

'God, you can be boring at times,' Sirius complained, reaching into his jacket - a rather horrible brown leather and sheepskin - for his cigarettes and lighting one with a flick of his wand.

Remus swallowed, feeling unaccountably upset. Sirius told him he was boring at least once a week. For some reason, today it stung. Probably because today it felt true.

Sirius was sending him looks of smouldering anger from beneath his heavy brows, but Remus refused to meet his eye. He reached for a chip, although his throat was so tight he didn't think he'd be able to swallow it.

'Excuse me - do you have a light?' A well-modulated female voice descended over Remus' shoulder, directly at Sirius. Sirius cocked his head.

'Sure.'

Remus watched as Sirius removed his cigarette from between his lips and held it up for the newcomer to stub. 'Getting a light' meant a whole different thing in a world that had wands instead of Zippos and matches.

The woman - and she was definitely a woman, enough woman to make two, in fact - made a show of flicking back her hair, inhaling, and making sure her filtered cigarette was alight. Sirius smiled at her, a slow, wide smile that made him seem utterly intoxicating. In-bred narcissism had its benefits when it came to pulling. Knowing when he wasn't wanted, Remus slid quietly out of his seat, feeling slightly drier but colder than ever.

~

Remus was curled up against the headboard in his room in the Leaky Cauldron, a steaming mug of cocoa on his bedside table and a book propped against his knees, when a rapping noise came at the window. Thanking his lucky stars for being of-age, he grabbed his wand and opened the window with an 'Alohomora!' A tawny eagle owl came soaring in, bringing the smell of night and yet another rain shower on its wings. It landed gracefully on Sirius' bed.

'Have you a letter, old man? If you want, I can give it to Sirius,' Remus offered. 'He's down in the bar now.'

The owl put its head on one side; it seemed to be sizing him up. Remus shifted uncomfortably under its gimlet glare. At last, it made a shuffling bed-hop, and held out a gnarled leg to which was tied a roll of parchment with a wizarding seal. Remus carefully untied it. At once, the owl took flight, almost knocking over Remus' cup of cocoa in the process. As it flew away over the rooftops, Remus engaged in a life or death struggle to keep his cocoa upright. In doing so he kicked his book onto the floor, dropped his wand down the side of the bed and tangled his knees into a knot with the sheets. At that moment Sirius stalked in, looking murderous. Remus fell off the bed.

'Moony? What the hell are you doing?'

Remus emerged from under the bed, dusty-headed but clutching his wand. He settled for the easiest - and also the most truthful - explanation. 'An owl came for you.' He gestured at his pillow, where the parchment had ended up. Sirius sighed heavily and stepped over his friend to retrieve it. He also took possession of Remus' bed to sit down and open it, leaving Remus sitting on the floor feeling extremely annoyed.

'It's from Andromeda!' Sirius exclaimed, his face brightening as he read. 'She wants me to baby-sit Nymphadora tomorrow...she and Ted have to go to the North on business.'

Remus said nothing, occupied in tugging down his pyjama top from where it was rucked up around his neck and on the verge of strangling him. He got the shock of his life when Sirius slid to the floor beside him - almost on top of him, in fact - and slung one arm around his neck.

'Ah! Don't choke me, Sirius!' Remus cried, struggling away. Sirius let him, and Remus crawled back into his bed, trying to return it to somewhere near the comfortable state it had been in before the Grindelwald-damned owl had ruined it.

'So?' Sirius rested his head against Remus' foot and smiling winningly.

'So what?' Remus retorted, drawing up his legs sharply and putting his arms around them.

'Do you mind? About Dora coming?'

'Don't see what it has to do with me,' Remus huffed.

'Ah, Moony, don't be like that,' Sirius pleaded, opening his eyes wide.

'Save that for your new girlfriend,' Remus retorted, but he felt his anger beginning to dissolve. There was something about Sirius' eyes, such a hypnotic, stormy grey and framed by such obscenely long lashes, that was irresistible, and had got him out of as many detentions as his runaway mouth had got him into.

'My girlfriend?' Sirius appeared confused.

'The girl in the bar?' Remus prompted. Sirius' expression cleared.

'Oh, her.' He waved a hand dismissively. 'She was just waiting for her boyfriend. Anyway -'

'I'll help you baby-sit,' Remus groaned, flopping back onto the pillow. 'Just let me go to sleep.'

'Thanks, old man. You're a mate,' Sirius said, in patent relief. 'Andy said she'd meet us in the bar at ten, okay?'

'Okay. Bugger off to bed,' Remus grumbled, turning on his side.

'Is this your cocoa?'

'Just drink it already! Goodnight!'

'Goodnight.' Mug in hand, Sirius reached down to ruffle the top of Remus' head, the only part that was showing. Remus growled. Sirius retreated hastily, and put out the light.

~

Remus awoke feeling groggy, to the sounds of Sirius moving about the room they were sharing.

He pulled the covers up to his chin, savouring the warm little dip he'd created with his body. He blinked his eyes into focus. Sirius was standing at the window, shaking out a t-shirt. He was dressed only in faded black boxers; as he started to struggle into the t-shirt, the muscles under his skin rippled. Unaware of Remus, as he was unaware of the idea that walking around half-naked in company could be an embarrassing thing to do to someone, he wandered back over to his bed and pulled the t-shirt down, leaving his hair in a halo of static. As he reached for his jeans, he noticed Remus peering groggily at him.

'Morning, Sleeping Beauty,' he grinned. 'Half-past nine - you'd better get your skates on if you want breakfast.'

'You go on, I'll meet you there,' Remus said, swinging his legs out of bed. Sirius could make him feel naked wearing wrist and ankle-length, fully-buttoned-up flannels; he hardly relished the thought of getting into jeans in front of him. He'd managed to avoid it every other morning by getting up before Sirius, who usually liked to sleep till eleven or later when on holidays.

'Hurry on,' Sirius urged, drooping over his bed to search for something in his trunk. He appeared in no hurry to leave. Reluctantly, Remus rummaged in his own trunk, retrieving relatively fresh, mostly respectable corduroys and a Woodstock t-shirt one of his American cousins had sent him. He glanced over; Sirius was dawdling over his socks. With a sigh, and a blush of embarrassment despite himself and six years of dormitory-sharing, he started unbuttoning his pyjamas, his head bent so far forward his chin was practically touching his collarbone and his hair was hanging down vertically. Why wasn't Sirius gone? He knew Remus was intensely private - after all, he'd used it to his advantage in many a prank. Why didn't he just leave?

Gritting his teeth, he shrugged out of the pyjama top and reached for his t-shirt, rubbing at arms, which were goose-pimpled from a sudden chill. He flicked his gaze upwards for half-a-second, only to find Sirius staring at him with a thoroughly unnerving avidity.

'What?' he couldn't help himself from demanding. Sirius' eyes widened. Remus quickly shoved his t-shirt over his face, not bothering to do it arms-first like usual, even though that method guaranteed greater coverage. By the time he was pulling it down over his stomach, Sirius was at the door.

'Don't forget to brush your hair!' he called gaily, and disappeared.

Remus shivered. He must be catching a cold.

~

Grumpy and disconcerted, Remus found to his dismay that he hadn't got one pair of clean socks in his trunk. In the end he was forced to borrow a pair from Sirius' trunk, after pawing through piles of haphazardly packed clothing, cigarettes, a few books and - Remus still blushed whenever he remembered it - condoms. He missed the Tonkses, and came down to breakfast with mussed hair, a thunderous expression and over-large socks to find Sirius sitting at their usual table by the bay window with a little girl of about four.

They both looked up as Remus sat down, and Nymphadora's hair and eyes suddenly changed colour, leaving her looking like a dark-haired, grey-eyed, female replica of Sirius. Remus was hard pressed not to gasp - Sirius could have bloody well warned him that the kid was a Metamorphagus, he thought crossly.

'Nymphadora, this is my friend Remus,' Sirius said, setting down a bread knife which he was using to cut toast soldiers for his cousin. 'Remus, this is my cousin, Dora.'

'Pleased to meet you,' Remus said, holding out his hand. The little girl giggled, but shook it; in the blink of an eye her hair straightened and turned brown, and her eyes hazel. She could have passed for Remus' sister, this time.

'Dora, stop being cheeky,' Sirius remonstrated, but he was grinning. 'You're not to do that anymore today, otherwise if you get lost we won't be able to find you.'

'Okay, Sirius,' Nymphadora said, beaming up at him. She clearly hero-worshipped her cousin. Remus made a mental note to remind him not to smoke in front of her.

'So, Remus,' Sirius' head was bent over the toast again, 'what do you think we should do today?'

'Well, Nymphadora, do you like Quidditch?' Remus asked.

'Yes.' She hadn't changed her appearance, and Remus wondered if he was going to spend the day fielding questions about his sudden paternity status.

'Quality Quiddtich Supplies seems to be on the cards, then,' Remus suggested, flicking his gaze between the two cousins and wondering whom, exactly, he was addressing. 'And we could take her - you - to Florean's for lunch.'

'Missing your boyfriend?' Sirius smirked up at him, something flinty in his expression. Remus refused to be baited. Sirius could often get nasty, but Remus always felt ashamed when he got into these pseudo-arguments with his friend. It generally only happened when Remus felt particularly touchy after the full moon, although Sirius teased Remus all month.

'What do you think, Nymphadora?'

'It sounds like fun, Remus,' she said solemnly, reaching out for her glass of orange juice and accidentally upsetting the small vase of flowers. 'Oops! Sorry!'

'Don't worry about it,' Remus said, picking up the spray and jamming it less than artistically back into the Wedgwood vase.

'Are you going to eat something, Remus?' Nymphadora asked. 'You can have some of my soldiers, if you like.'

'No, thanks.' Remus smiled at her. She was a nice little thing, and nothing like the rest of the Blacks - even Sirius had needed several thrashings from James to put some manners on him. 'I think I'll just have tea.'

'May I have some too?' she asked.

'Of course.' Remus reached for the fat silver teapot and poured out two cups. Nymphadora, delighted at being treated like a grown-up, carefully considered his offers for milk, sugar and lemon. All the while Sirius watched them through his lashes.

The morning passed quickly in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Sirius carried Nymphadora around on his back, pointing out the latest broomstick models and all the balls and explaining the game in far too great detail for a four-year-old. Nymphadora lapped it up, however, while Remus hovered in the background, poised to catch her should Sirius let her fall. After years of listening to Sirius' spiels on Quidditch, Remus was expert at hiding his yawns.

Unable to resist the lure, Remus picked up a copy of 'Quidditch through the Ages'. Although there were few subject matters of less interest to him, he was soon absorbed, and felt a jolt of surprise when a giggling Nymphadora tugged on his t-shirt and told him it was time to go. She had a toy Quaffle tucked under her arm, courtesy of Sirius.

'I'm going to be a Chaser,' she informed Remus as she took one each of their hands walking down the street. 'Siri wanted me to be a Beater like him, but it sounds painful!'

'It is,' Remus confirmed. 'P - Sirius is always having to go to Madame Pomfrey to patch up his bruises.' He winked. 'Don't tell him, but she has a bit of a crush on him.'

'She does not!' Sirius objected in a loud voice. Remus smiled; it was nice to get his own back for once.

'I think he has one on her too,' Nymphadora confided. Remus suppressed a snort at the enraged expression on Sirius' face.

Remus offered to get their orders at Florean's; Nymphadora puzzled over the menu for ten minutes, and Sirius waited with surprising patience as Remus read it out to her several times. At last she decided on a huge fudge sundae.

'Mummy always makes me have sandwiches and fruit at lunch,' she complained, wrinkling her - Remus' - nose.

'Well, today is special,' Remus told her, winking. 'And we won't tell if you don't. What about you, Sirius?'

'The usual,' Sirius said with a yawn, tossing him ten Galleons.

Remus headed up to the counter. It was early summer, and a Tuesday, so even the popular Parlour was quiet. He waited for a few minutes for Florean to return from the backroom and placed his order.

'It'll only be a few seconds - I'll bring it over if you like,' Florean offered, with a shade too much eagerness in his tone. Eager to avoid giving Sirius any more ammunition, Remus shook his head.

'No, that's okay. I'll wait.' Remus looked out at the table. Nymphadora was chatting to Sirius, who was listening indulgently with half-closed eyes. Every so often he would reach out and move something that was in danger of being toppled by Nymphadora's gesticulating arms.

Florean pushed a tray on top of the counter. 'That'll be four Galleons and fifty Knuts.'

'Thanks,' Remus said vaguely, handing him five Galleons and waiting for change.

'So, have you made any headway on your History essay?' Florean asked, leaning forward on his plump elbows.

'Not yet,' Remus muttered. 'Haven't had a chance. Thanks though.'

'I had a few more ideas - if you like we could meet up one day after closing time and talk about it,' Florean urged.

'Er, thanks,' Remus repeated. 'I'll think about it. I'd better go -' He rushed out, face flaming. He didn't particularly like Florean, and obviously he was only being helpful, but he was mortified all the same. He plonked the tray on the table, and Sirius took the sundaes off it. Nymphadora plunged into hers with the reckless abandon of those force-fed fruit-based desserts.

'Everything okay, Moony?' Sirius asked in a low tone, noting his friend's red face and stooped posture - he always tried to make himself smaller when he was embarrassed.

'Yes - no.' Remus sighed. 'Florean offered to tutor me after work.'

For once Sirius made no digs. When Remus dared to look up, he was startled by the naked fury on Sirius' face.

'That little worm,' he growled. 'Trying it on with you -'

'No, it wasn't like that!' Remus protested. 'He was just - I mean, I just felt uncomfortable.'

'I don't blame you,' Sirius said, looking grim and rising out of his chair. 'Look, I'm going to go in there and sort him out once and for all -'

'Sirius!' Remus said sharply. 'No. Don't. Just leave it.'

Sirius looked down at the restraining hand Remus had placed on his arm in faint surprise. Pursing his lips, he sat back down. He took Remus' hand in one of his own and replaced it on the table, chewing his lip.

'You shouldn't bite your nails, Moony,' he muttered.

'This is a yummy little tart!' Nymphadora squealed in delight, hugging her sundae.

~

A few days later, when the sting had worn off, Remus left Sirius to his secret 'practice' and headed back to the bookshop. Avoiding the New Publications table entirely, he made his way to the back of the shop, where his favourite Charms/Defence Against the Dark Arts section was located. Tucking himself away into a corner between two bookshelves, he started skimming his latest favourites, trying to decide between them.

He was just blinking muzzily and considering going for lunch when someone said 'Remus Lupin?' in an incredulous, but pleased, voice.

Remus squinted against the sunlight which silhouetted the figure. They moved closer, and Remus could at last make out the shape of Lily Evans, James' to-be-pitied long-term crush, dressed in a Muggle denim skirt and heather-coloured blouse. Her bright red hair was in loose waves, making a drastic change from its usual severe ponytail.

'Lily - hello. Nice to see you.' Remus felt somewhat at a loss, and was suddenly aware of how grubby and holey his jeans were, and that there was a ketchup stain on his t-shirt.

'Nice to see you too.' Lily moved closer and smiled at him. Her cheeks were pink and lightly freckled from the sun. 'Surrounded by books, as ever.'

'Yes, well.' Remus looked down at the piles of books in his lap and on the windowsill beside him. 'It's so hard to choose.'

'I know what you mean!' Lily empathised, running a hand through her hair to push it out of her face, leaning forward to look at the titles. The room felt very close all of a sudden.

'Have you got your schoolbooks yet?' she continued, holding up a bulky-looking bag.

'Yeah,' Remus affirmed. 'Me and Sirius have been staying here since the end of term.'

'Oh,' Lily said, biting her lip. Remus wasn't surprised; she and Sirius had never had what could be termed a rosy relationship.

'He's not around at the moment, though,' he hastened to assure her. He made a resigned face. 'Bookshops aren't his scene.'

'No,' Lily murmured, staring at him. Remus squirmed slightly. 'So, have you got your History essay done yet?'

'Done? Hark at her.' Remus made a face. 'I've it barely started, woman. Even though Florean Fortescue keeps trying to get me to go to private tutes with him.'

'Oh, that Fortescue that Binns still waxes lyrical about?' Lily sent him a quizzical look. 'I thought you'd be jumping at the chance, Remus.'

'Ah, well -' Remus really wished he could find the off-button for his terminal blushes. '- Sirius says that, he, well, that he, you know, likes me...' his voice trailed off into a veritable swamp of humiliation.

'Sirius says, eh?' Lily sounded disapproving. 'Well, I wouldn't worry. Attractive and all as you are, Remus, I wouldn't trust Sirius' judgement if he told me the sky was blue. Anyway,' she brightened up, 'what are you doing for the rest of the day?'

'Nothing much,' Remus fudged, still flummoxed by her assertion that he was good-looking. First Sirius, now her - the entire world needed glasses.

'Great. You can come with me to Gringotts,' she ordered him. 'Those carts terrify me. Martina always makes me come with her, and I swear one day I'll throw up in her lap.'

'All right,' Remus agreed, putting aside his books and straightening them into a neat pile. They'd probably still be there when he came back tomorrow. 'When did you get a vault?'

'Oh, my parents set up one for me when I came of age,' Lily smiled. 'It was a present.'

'Cool,' Remus said, wishing he even had enough money to make opening a vault worthwhile.

Remus had an unexpectedly good time with Lily. He'd always found her to be a sensible, pleasant sort of girl, well able to fight her corner, but he'd usually come in for the flak that was part and parcel of being friends with James and Sirius. It turned out that in addition to that, she had a lively and wicked sense of humour, and Remus spent most of his time laughing at her droll asides about the people they passed in the street.

Once they were walking down the long, goblin-lined bank, however, she went a bit green about the gills, and she grabbed Remus rather tightly by the hand. 'I really don't like these carts,' she moaned. 'Even bicycles give me motion-sicknesses. They're just so fast!'

'Don't worry - you can always get sick over the side,' Remus suggested. Lily snorted, but looked moderately less apprehensive.

In the cart, Lily gripped his hand so tight his knuckles nearly popped, and clutched him around the arm for good measure. As the cart thundered around the hairpin bends, she groaned and buried her face in his shoulder.

Remus had never had a girl cling to him like that before. It was ... terrifying and disconcerting, of course ... but still, rather nice.

At last, they staggered out into the dim evening sunlight - well, Lily staggered, and Remus linked arms with her to make sure she didn't fall over. After a several lungsful of fresh air, not to mention a static foothold, Lily seemed to regain her equilibrium, and insisted on treating him to tea.

'Not at Florean's, though,' Remus said firmly.

'All right,' Lily laughed, and directed him to a discreet little tearooms down a side-alley. She ordered a pot of tea and scones, which Remus helped himself to with glee. He loved tea, and he loved melting-with-butter-and-jam scones even more. Lily watched him indulgently as she sipped from her own bone-china.

'Thanks very much for today,' she told him as he walked her to the exit from Diagon Alley. 'I enjoyed it.'

'It was my pleasure,' Remus contradicted her, giving her one of his rare genuine smiles. Lily blinked in a manner that was oddly Sirius-esque. 'You're good company, Lily.' He hesitated, and forged on. 'James doesn't know what he's missing.'

'On the contrary, he knows exactly what he's missing,' Lily said, her tone suddenly sharp. 'I'm just in the manner of giving people what they deserve.' Remus blushed for the umpteenth time, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

'Remus...' she said, in a low voice, and to his horror, she had moved closer to him, so that his back was up against the brick wall.

'Lily -' he tried to say warningly, but she cut him off with her mouth.

As a first kiss, it could have gone worse. Lily seemed to know what she was about. After all, he was only kissing the love of his best mate's life. Lily had got ahold of his shoulders and was pulling him down to her, and Remus, horrified, thrilled and utterly inexperienced, for one split second let her.

Then he shoved her roughly away. 'You can't,' he gasped, rubbing his mouth fiercely in a hopeless attempt to remove the taste of her lipstick and her mouth and hot tea. 'James -'

He dared a glance at her. She looked utterly humiliated. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered, passing a trembling hand over her eyes. 'I don't know what came over me -'

She fumbled blindly for her wand and tapped the brick. As the archway opened before her, she looked back at Remus with suspiciously bright eyes. 'I -' she hesitated, and then continued more strongly. 'I did enjoy today. And I don't regret - it. I want you to know that.'

And she was gone.

Remus stared at the blank wall. And kicked it, hard.

'Shit!' he groaned, nursing his foot.

~

The storm which had been brewing gradually between Sirius and Remus broke that evening. Confused and heart sore, Remus wandered back to their room in a daze, to find Sirius sitting on his bed, arms crossed and face tight.

'Where were you?' he demanded, before Remus had even registered his presence.

'In Diagon Alley,' Remus said, wondering what Sirius looked so angry about. 'Where else would I be? Scotland?' He sank onto his bed and buried his head in the duvet. The last thing he needed right now was one of Sirius' strange, possessive rages.

Sirius seemed intent on giving him one whether he willed it or no. He stood up, arms akimbo, his handsome faced screwed up in ugly rage. When he spoke, however, his voice was dangerously quiet. 'Did you never think of informing me where you were going? We're supposed to be in this together, after all.'

'Maybe I just wanted a break from you,' Remus snarled, reaching the end of his tether. Sirius had a habit of getting jealous over his friends' doings. Remus had never liked it, but he usually put up with it. Right now, he just didn't feel like it, and he actually did want to be alone for a while.

'Is that so?' Remus rolled over and looked up into Sirius' frozen face. 'Perhaps I should just bugger off entirely and leave you to it?'

He clearly expected Remus to come out with a vehement denial, à la Peter. Remus really was not in the mood.

'You do that,' he suggested, and burrowed his head back into the pillow.

There was a shocked silence, during which Remus felt his gut clench with guilt. But there was a stubborn core to Remus Lupin, and he refused to apologise. After an eternal five minutes, the door opened and shut with a great bang.

With a sigh, Remus shut his eyes and prayed for sleep.

~

When Remus woke up the next morning, the sun was at its zenith in the sky and it was another scorcher of a day. Beside him, Sirius' bed was as neat as it had been on the first day and never since. With a sinking heart, Remus wondered if Sirius had made good on his threat.

However, his trunk was still there, open and gaping several t-shirts like some sort of sartorially-disgusted monster. A couple of shoes were still under his bed, and his reading glasses were sitting on top of Nymphs and their Ways on the bedside locker.

All the same, Remus worried as he dressed, the neat bed was not a good sign. The last time Sirius had made his bed was during that period when he and Sirius were fighting because of what Remus termed the Severus Incident (it was better than Sirius' Betrayal). It tended to indicate some deep mental strain on his part. With a clearer head, Remus felt the mother of all guilt-hangovers descend. For all his beauty, popularity and riches, Sirius was incredibly low in self-esteem. He needed to find him and make up the squabble before Sirius blew it out of all proportion.

The dining room was in uproar. Remus halted a passing, harried-looking maid and asked what was going on. She looked at him as if he had luminous fangs.

'The karaoke is on tonight,' she told him, speaking slowly as one would to a person who hasn't all their chairs at home. Chastened, Remus thanked her and grabbed some toast. Sirius would probably be incommunicado for the day. Feeling in his pocket, Remus found the five Galleons Sirius had refused to take back from him the day of his cousin's visit. He decided to buy Sirius something - Merlin knew what, the boy had everything, but at least it would show willing.

Quality Quidditch Supplies yielded nothing that Sirius didn't already have three of. Flourish and Blotts was out of the question. He gravely doubted that Sirius would appreciate a top-up of potion supplies from the apothecary. Out of his wits, as it started to shower again, he took shelter in a small toyshop.

The little old witch on the till glared at him beadily, and with a nervous smile Remus pretended to browse. Sometimes he desperately wished for Sirius' charm or James' easy way with people. Like dogs smelling fear, humans could smell the wolf in him, and it raised their hackles immediately. The only reason he had friends, Remus often thought, was because James and Sirius had more courage than sense.

As he trailed half-heartedly along the white-painted shelves, his eyes lit on something. Sirius had lately got a new obsession, and Remus had unwittingly found the perfect gift to match it.

Even better, it cost four Galleons.

~

With the brown-paper package under his arm, Remus nearly walked into Sirius, leaning against the door to the Leaky Cauldron smoking, with his eyes closed.

'Hey, Padfoot.' Remus cleared his throat uncomfortably, wondering how exactly to approach this. Sirius opened his eyes; his expression was wary.

'Look, mate, I'm sorry about last night,' he said, leaving Remus gaping at the unexpectedness. 'I was out of line.' He shrugged, and Remus could see by the quilting of his jaw how much it had cost him to say that.

'I'm sorry too,' Remus said, almost gasping with relief. He shoved the package at Sirius. 'And - look, I found this, I thought you might like it.'

'What is it?' Sirius asked, his voice guarded.

'Open it and see,' Remus told the ground. He heard the tearing of paper - Sirius had always loved to tear open presents, so unlike Remus, who undid them carefully so as to conserve the paper - and glanced up.

Sirius was looking down at the model motorcycle in his palm with a goofily delighted expression on his face. Remus let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, and smiled.

'Moony -' Sirius shook his head and engulfed Remus in a bear-hug. Slightly surprised, Remus patted him on the back before pushing him away.

'I'm glad you like it,' Remus said, as Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus' uptight ways. 'It'll keep you going until you get a real one.'

'Yeah,' Sirius agreed.

'And, watch this.' Remus prodded the seat of the bike with his wand. With a faint whirring noise, it took flight. It made a loop of Sirius' head before landing on his palm once more.

'Do you know, that's an excellent idea!' Sirius said, looking enthralled.

'I've created a monster,' Remus groaned, and added mentally, and cleared the air. 'So, when are you singing?'

'Hour's time,' Sirius beamed. 'That reminds me, I must go get ready. See you in the bar!' He capered off, stowing his toy in the pocket of his jeans.

Remus shook his head in bemusement, and decided to go check if his books were still on the windowsill of Flourish and Blotts.

~

'Are you of age?' the barman asked, every pore radiating suspicion.

'Yes!' Remus snapped, feeling frustrated. His books had gone, and he couldn't find them anywhere on the shelves. 'I'm here with Sirius Black.'

'Oh, right then.' The barman's face cleared, and he lumbered off to draw Remus a pint of Turbot's Very Odd. Gritting his teeth, Remus leaned his elbows on the bar and let his head flop forward until he was nearly washing his hair in beer.

He was just considering taking a pull when the lights went down and some out-of-place yet familiar backing music started up.

Remus whirled around, slapping himself in the face with his wet locks. The small stage he'd noticed on arrival had come alight with fluttering fairies, and the usual kerosene lamps had been doused. There was no jukebox or microphone, merely an enchanted radio and the Sonorous Charm.

And Sirius.

Even as his brain protested madly at the sight, he recognised Sirius' dark shiny hair and cheeky grin. It was Sirius, although his mental image was receiving several jolts due to the red cocktail dress, the rose tucked behind the ear, and the lipstick.

Sirius spread his arms, welcoming the jeers and whoops with dignity and a flash of carmine heels. He broke into crooning song.

He had been telling the truth when he said his voice wasn't bad, at least when he wasn't jokily playing it up. It was thankfully in key, although slightly flat, and Remus winced in preparation for when it would crack on the high notes. No, what was the most astonishing thing was that Sirius had decided to sing 'Hey Jude'.

Although no one in the pub bar Remus seemed to have a clue of the words, they were all clapping and humming along. Remus assumed this had more to do with Sirius' showgirl demeanour and sly winks than his skill in bringing the Muggle song alive for them. Remus gulped when he stepped off the stage, still singing, and started threading through the crowd, leaning over to sing to this patron, sitting on the lap of another and tucking his flower behind her ear.

At last, as Remus had dreaded and suspected the moment Sirius' heels hit ground, he made his way over to him. As the song drew to a close, he dropped to his knees before him and rested his head against Remus' knees, leaving Remus puce with embarrassment as the lights dimmed and came up again for the next performer.

'Sir - Pa - there are no words,' Remus spluttered.

'I thought you liked the Insects!' Sirius pouted, winking. 'I went and scared up that song specially. Even had to alter the radio so it'd play the backing tape.'

'Beatles, Sirius,' Remus sighed, knowing Sirius made the mistake on purpose to rile him. 'What on earth possessed you?'

Sirius shrugged. Remus rolled his eyes.

'Well, you didn't break any glasses, at least. Although I still don't see the reason for the dress. The Beatles are all men.'

'Thought you liked girls,' Sirius said bafflingly, and with a too-wide grin sauntered off, hopefully to change, waving at the girl to whom he'd given his flower.

'What?' Remus complained to his pint. It didn't answer, but as Remus thought the answer might be in the bottom of the glass, he started to drink it down steadily.

~

By the time Sirius arrived, back in jeans and a jumper, Remus was giggling at his sixth pint of Turbot's. With a beleaguered expression, he ordered himself a pint of Large and pulled up a barstool beside him. Remus gave him a cross-eyed grin.

'What is your alcohol threshold, one pint?' Sirius asked rhetorically. Remus peered at him. It could just be the beer-goggles, but Sirius' lips still looked slightly redder than they were naturally, and traces of kohl remained around his eyes. With his sooty lashes and long silky hair, he looked faintly androgynous and frighteningly attractive.

'Guess what - guess what I did yesterday?' Remus asked.

'What did you do yesterday?' Sirius humoured him.

'I kissed Lily!' Remus declared in drunken euphoria. 'Or, well, she kissed me.'

Something in Sirius' face closed up. 'James -'

'I tol' her, I said, Lily, my mate fancies you,' Remus hiccupped. 'An', an' she stopped and said she was sorry and she left.' He dropped his head onto the bar. 'I feel sick,' he moaned dolefully.

Ignoring this last, Sirius asked in a quiet voice, 'Did you want her to keep on?'

Remus didn't answer for a minute. Even through three miles of alcoholic padding, he could sense the quiet fury in Sirius' tone. He couldn't fathom it's origin, but he felt it imperative to tread carefully.

'Sort'a,' he mumbled. 'But not really. Wouldn't do that to James.'

'Glad to hear it,' Sirius said, with all the natural warmth of a glacier. 'I think you should go to bed.'

'No!' Remus protested. 'I wanna stay with you. Don't wanna be boring.'

'You're not boring,' Sirius sighed. 'You're anything but, unfortunately. I shouldn't have said that.'

'Nah,' Remus reflected with great glibness. 'You're righ'. Read too much. Boring!' He giggled, and nearly toppled off his bar stool.

Sirius looked at his untouched Large with faint regret, but opted to grab Remus round the chest and heave him upright. 'I'm taking you upstairs.'

''kay,' Remus murmured, his head flopping into the angle of Sirius' neck and shoulder. Sirius smelt of a faintly spicy aftershave. Remus hadn't even started shaving yet.

A sudden thought occurred to him as they were making their way up the stairs, Sirius holding him around the waist and using his Beater's muscles to shove him up the steps.

'Hey, Pad,' he addressed him. Sirius looked across at him, his Roman nose almost connecting with Remus'. 'How many girl's've you kissed?'

Sirius' arms stiffened involuntarily. Remus squinted at him; his expression was almost pained.

'A few,' he said, with a mammoth effort at being illuminating.

'Oh.' Remus' eyes crossed again. Sirius pushed him up and into their room without another word.

Almost comatose now, Remus submitted to having his shirt taken off and his shoes and socks removed, but he retained enough modesty to keep a death-grip on his jeans. With unusual gentleness, Sirius tumbled him into bed and drew the covers up around his naked shoulders.

Remus blinked up at him sleepily, his eyes fluttering. In his fuzzy gaze, Sirius and his mother seemed to have become one person, and Remus was ten years old again, being tucked up after cocoa and a goodnight story.

'G'night,' he managed. 'Love you.'

And he fell asleep.

Sirius' face twitched. He compressed his lips, and reached down to smooth Remus' haystack hair back from his flushed forehead. Certain he was asleep, he pressed his lips to his temple for the briefest of kisses.

He sat on his own bed, drawing up his knees and hugging them. It was a posture he'd unwittingly copied from Remus. He glanced over to his trunk, where a paper bag with five or six books had been shoved in amongst the rest of his possessions. He sighed. He could give them to Remus tomorrow. He wouldn't understand - he never understood - but hopefully, he would like them.

As the moon rose, Sirius feel asleep, clutching the toy motorbike to his chest.

FIN