Losing the Map

Remus was in front, Sirius at his heels, James and Peter walking a few steps behind.

Anyone watching the same group walk across the grounds a year before would have seen James and Sirius together in front, Peter following in a manner that might be called "tagging along," and Remus trailing absent-mindedly, a book clutched in his hand. Things were different now, at the onset of their seventh year at Hogwarts. The budding leaves of the previous spring had witnessed an event that had nearly torn the four asunder; now, their fallen husks observed a vastly changed group of Marauders. Sirius had betrayed Remus, James had saved his sworn enemy, and Peter had found himself struggling to put back together the broken pieces of his friends. Eventually things had been righted--the first time that anyone had seen Remus Lupin cry was the night before they all went home and Sirius came into the Gryffindor common room and begged James to forgive him. Otherwise, he'd pleaded, he would have nowhere to stay that summer and would have to return to his family. Peter vividly remembered watching Sirius fall on his knees in front of everyone, clasping his hands together, a desperate look on his face. Only the four of them and Severus Snape knew what had transpired months earlier, but nearly the entire school had noticed that the once inseparable Marauders were divided against each other. Every head in the common room turned to watch the spectacle of Sirius Black--Pureblood, haughty and occasionally cruel, imbued with copious quantities of inbred dignity--groveling and on the verge of tears. Peter nearly ran across the room to the couch that James and Remus sat at and Sirius knelt in front of, in time to see that Remus, his face hidden by a book, had tears pouring down his cheeks. James watched Sirius with an expression of so much pain on his face that it hurt Peter to see, and after Sirius had spoken, all three turned their eyes to Remus. He had lowered the book, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face, and slid off the couch to wrap his arms around Sirius. There was a moment of stunned silence; neither James, nor Peter, nor anyone else in the room had expected that, as the rift had seemed far too deep and had festered far too long. Remus whispered in Sirius's ear and the two of them stood and retreated to the dorm. As they left, James had noticed that Remus led the way, something that he had never seen him do. He and Peter had lingered over their homework far longer than normal, then tiptoed up the Tower stairs and into the bedroom. Sirius slept curled in a ball alongside Remus, who was lying in bed reading. No one said anything; it was clear that both boys had been crying. The next morning James had told Sirius that of course he could stay at his house that summer. Peter, who had been Sirius's sole confidante for the long months of spring, had beamed as he ate his eggs; he had tried to remain neutral, because he had heard what Snape had said to Sirius that made him do it, and he didn't blame his friend for his actions.

Things had been different--subtly so, but different nonetheless, ever since. The Marauders were closer than ever. Having spent two weeks together over the summer and concluding that it was, oddly, much more fun to be mischievous at school, they'd resolved to make their last year at Hogwarts the best they'd ever known. All four were racing towards maturity and the real world. Peter was an equal in the group, no longer the tag-along. James, realizing that he was running out of chances, seriously set himself to the task of wooing Lily Evans, and reformed himself completely for her. Sirius, stripped of his arrogance and family ties, became a much happier person. Remus lost most of his dreamy qualities--or some of them, at any rate-- and started to be more assertive. Whatever had transpired between Sirius and Remus that night at the end of sixth year was never spoken of, but the two were suddenly inseparable. Where Remus was, Sirius would appear a half step behind, protective and willing to follow wherever the other led.

So they walked across the grounds, heading towards the lake.

"I have never seen a more miserable day in my life," James yelled, slogging across the ice-encrusted ground. Freezing rain crystallized on the shoulders of his robe and his black hair was plastered down with it.

Remus glanced back, his Head Boy badge glinting on the edge of his collar. His robes were open, a book clenched in his right hand, and his hair whipped around his face in the wind. "What did you say?" he called.

James shook his head and pushed forward, aiming for the relative shelter of the trees lining the lake.

"Bloody hell," Peter muttered through gritted teeth, trying to stave off the cold blasts of wind cutting straight through his robe. "Is this really October?"

"I know, mate," James said. They whined together until they reached the edge, because it distracted them from the cold.

They caught up to Remus and Sirius on the shore. Remus stared up at the sky, trying to read it for a break in the clouds. Beside him, Sirius shifted from one foot to the other. "Can't believe we walked all the way out here for shite," he said, shaking his head in a manner very reminiscent of his Animagus form. Slivers of ice flew out of his hair in several directions.

"Why did we?" Peter asked, well aware that his voice rose petulantly on the end of the question.

"I don't know," James commiserated in the same tone.

"Because Remus likes to torture us," Sirius suggested. "He enjoys making us suffer." Remus shivered and instantly Sirius's playful expression changed. "Good God, man, why is your robe open?"

Remus looked down, mystified, and said, "I guess I forgot to do it up this morning." He put his hands uncertainly on the collar of his shirt and adjusted his tie, as if this would somehow keep him warm. The shifting clouds transfixed him, and he squinted upward. "We should go, shouldn't we?"

Sirius reached out and pulled the edges of the robe together, hooking them tightly. "You're ridiculous sometimes, Moony," he said, and James and Peter rolled their eyes at each other.

They returned to the drafty castle, huddling together on a couch in the common room and listening to the rain lashing against the windows as they worked on homework. A group of first years sat on the floor in front of the fire telling scary stories. One of them started to tell a story about a werewolf terrorizing a village and Remus looked up from his book, stricken; in an instant, Sirius was out of his seat and saying, "Let's go upstairs."

The only thing to do then was go to bed. Sirius curled up under the sheets, folding his hands under his cheek and listening to his three friends fall asleep around him. His mind hummed with various schemes and theories, very few of them related to their lessons. He sensed Remus moving in the bed to his right and rolled over on his back to stare at the ceiling. Six years ago they'd painted the ceiling with some glow-in-the-dark Muggle paint (which Peter had acquired through a rather shady deal) so that it looked like the constellations of the northern sky. Sirius stared up at his own star and imagined opening the curtains and stretching across the gap to Remus's bed.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius jumped as Remus crawled onto his bed, fully dressed. "Yeah?" he asked, trying to sound as if he'd been asleep.

Remus listened for any signs that he'd woken the other two, leaning forward. "Sorry for waking you." He sat back on his knees, wondering whatever possessed him to jump on Sirius's bed. The other, despite looking disgruntled and tired, remained the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and studied the painted-on stars.

"Did you have a reason?" Sirius asked, sitting up and making a show of yawning. Remus's presence was making him feel pleasantly nervous.

"The sky's clearing," Remus replied. "I was looking for someone to go down to the lake with me."

Sirius nodded and reached for his robes. Remus hopped off the bed, grabbing the Marauder's Map from his chest of drawers and stepping outside of the room. A few seconds later Sirius emerged, holding up James's Invisibility Cloak. "It's too late at night for us to just wander around," he said, and the wicked grin on his face nearly stopped Remus's heart.

They crept down the stairs and out past the portrait of the Fat Lady--she winked at them, a happy member of all the Marauders' conspiracies since their reunification--and into the hallway. Sirius swept the Invisibility Cloak over them, his heart immediately thudding at being so close to Remus, and watched as the other boy spoke the incantation over the Map. Tiny dots of movement appeared, barring certain passages and opening others, and they began to walk towards the doors of the castle. Both boys clenched their fists around the edges of the Cloak, trying desperately within the confined space not to bump into the other.

Sirius knew that he was in love with Remus, and he had known it since their fourth year. Likewise, Remus knew that he was in love with Sirius, and had been ever since the summer. Neither spoke about it (although Peter knew, because Sirius had told him everything in late March, when he was desperate for forgiveness from someone), and neither intended to. Remus, an undying romantic (as are most people who have spent the better part of their lives buried in books), endured his unrequited love stoically. A large part of him suspected that it was the kind of thing that would never survive reality, and this love of Sirius had grown to be so central to his character that he'd rather keep it as a fantasy than risk losing it. Sirius, meanwhile, had thought that he could tell Remus--had tried once--but that had gone terribly wrong, and had resulted in almost losing him forever. Now he thought that he was better suited to protecting the other than becoming his boyfriend; in his mind, he was just another product of the Black family, fully capable of destroying everything he touched, and therefore unworthy of Remus.

Of course, it was hard for them to accept their chosen paths when their bodies were separated by only a few centimeters. Sirius's breath on the back of Remus's neck was driving them both mad; when their hands brushed together, they drew in twin sharp breaths. Pausing at the end of a long corridor near their Transfiguration classroom, they checked the Map once more--no one in sight--then ran out the door and across the grounds, their strides matching each other, breathing in unison. Running together once a month in their other forms, as a pack, allowed them to fall into a pattern instantly. They sprinted all the way to the edge of the lake and then slid to a stop in the slick grass in front of their favorite tree.

Within seconds they were huddled beneath the long fingered branches, sitting on the Cloak and surveying the landscape with expert gazes. This was where Remus had chosen to perform his observations, as he needed to maintain the same perspective and elevation for the duration of the experiment. The clouds had barely begun to tear apart, but a faint glow behind them betrayed the moon's position; Remus pulled a notebook out of his robes and began to make note of its location and features. Nothing--not the cold rain still spattering their heads, or the rolling waters of the lake, or even the twisting back and forth of the tree in the wind--could distract him from his calculations. Sirius observed him, feeling a quiet elation at being witness to these private vigils. He knew that Remus wanted to chart out the position of the moon over the course of the school year, so that he could gain a better understanding of astronomy, and he guessed that his friend's scholarly diligence was barely related to studying for class. Sirius leaned back against the tree trunk and sleepily watched the other, allowing himself to indulge in staring because he knew that Remus was too engrossed to notice anything.

Eventually the clouds disappeared and Remus sketched the crescent moon, his fingers shaking slightly under its pale glow. Finishing, he put the notebook back into this robes and twisted to look at Sirius, who sat with his head against the tree trunk, sound asleep. Remus rolled onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows, taking the opportunity to just stare at the object of his desire. He noticed the purple circles under Sirius's eyes and thought about how the other boy had changed since the night in June when he'd forgiven him. He remembered their conversation, held behind the closed curtains of his four-poster--it always seemed to slide into his memory when he saw Sirius in a vulnerable position.

The night had been sticky with heat, but despite that they'd crawled inside the cocoon of the bed and sat facing each other. Remus waited with his eyes averted while Sirius sniffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve--the two hadn't spoken since that night in February, and until that moment Sirius had held himself aloof from the other three Marauders, ignoring James's and Remus's cold anger and often rebuffing Peter's attempts to make peace. Remus had suspected that it was all a show--at that point, almost everything about Sirius was a show--and that his flippant response to having run away from home at Christmas was one as well. He suspected that his former friend was, to put it lightly, a on the verge of falling apart. He was surprised only that Sirius had held himself together for so long. The sniffling continued, reminding Remus of a hurt puppy, and he looked up and saw Sirius staring at him, his eyes red and his nose running. His chin quivered when their eyes met and that was so pathetic and un-Sirius that Remus felt all his cold pity leave him, replaced by a fierce desire to protect his pack mate. He reached out and pulled him into another tight hug. Sirius buried his face in Remus's neck, and for several minutes they simply sat like that, Remus rocking them back and forth while Sirius's hot tears dripped down his chest under his robe. Eventually, Sirius stopped sobbing, gasping for breath, and Remus stroked his hair and whispered, "What are we going to do, Padfoot?"

"I just want you to forgive me," Sirius said. His voice sounded so raw that it hurt Remus to hear it. Without thinking, he squeezed him even more tightly.

"I don't know how to forgive you," he replied. "What you did was--" He fumbled for words to describe it. "--beyond betrayal. You almost killed Snape--"

"And you," Sirius added from the depths of Remus's shoulder. "I almost killed you, Moony."

Remus ignored him. "I just don't understand how you could do that. Please, explain what you were thinking." He knew that he was begging for a reason to forgive,, because he knew with the suddenness of epiphany that he loved Sirius beyond words.

"Snape..." Sirius hissed, clenching his hands on Remus's back. "He said some terrible things to me. He found out something about me and he told my brother." Sirius swallowed, wrenching the word brother from deep within his stomach. "Regulus told my mother."

"But...you ran away from home. I can't imagine what kind of secret they could find out that would--"

"I know," Sirius said. "I know that I ran away from home, I know I can't ever go back there, but they're still my brother and my mother."

Remus understood. He resumed stroking Sirius's hair, trying to comfort him. "What did Snape find out?"

Sirius jerked away from Remus. He looked terrible--his hair matted down, his entire face red and puffy, and purple circles under his eyes. "I can't tell you."

Remus sighed and leaned his forehead on his fist. "Why not?"

"Please, Moony, I can't." Sirius was desperate. To reveal his secret now would leave him even emptier than he was already.

"How can I forgive you if you won't tell me the entire story?"

"I don't know. But I want you to understand that I wasn't thinking, that when I got the letter from my mother I had to take action." He remembered the burning smell as he opened it, the acrid taste of her anger as he read the words. "I told Snape where to go, and I still wasn't thinking. A few minutes later I realized... what'd I'd said... what I'd done... and I ran and told James." He felt tears welling up again, sharp stings in his swollen eyes, and he welcomed the pain. Remus's stared at him, unreadable, and he started to babble. "I'll do anything to fix this. Anything, Remus. This has been the worst year of my life, and I know that's no excuse, but I promise I'll be a better person for you. Please believe me, I'll--"

Remus held up his hand and Sirius clamped his mouth shut, awaiting judgment. "You're going to have to prove that I can trust you again. I don't know how long it will take." Remus paused, debating what to say. Before February he had been certain he could trust his friend, and the pain of betrayal had been far worse that the physical pain of the change without his pack mate, Padfoot. Now he didn't know what to feel--he was terrified of feeling that way again, but another, more primal sense within him flared up, willing and ready to forgive Sirius of everything. He looked Sirius over, his features distorted but his beauty still evident (Remus secretly knew that he would still find Sirius beautiful even if he'd spent years rotting in Azkaban). All of his masks and facades were lying around him, broken, and Remus gave in to his animal self. "But I do forgive you, on the condition that someday you tell me what your secret was."

Sirius cried again, and as Remus stroked his hair he knew that everything would be all right. They had written long, detailed letters throughout the summer, and when Remus and Peter came to visit Sirius and James at the Potters' house, they had become as inseparable as a werewolf from his shadow under the moonlight.

"Did I fall asleep?" Sirius mumbled, stretching against the tree trunk and breaking into Remus's memories.

"It's OK, I was drifting too," Remus replied, suddenly realizing that he was freezing.

"What were you thinking about?" Sirius asked, stretching out beside Remus on the Cloak. He made sure that there was a thin strip of empty space between them, and then rolled onto his back and stared up through the interlaced branches at the sky.

"You," Remus replied truthfully, playing with the collar of his shirt. Sirius shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold. "And what you promised to tell me but haven't."

"Oh."

Remus glanced over and saw Sirius staring up at the sky. "I take it this is not the time."

Sirius shrugged. He felt as if someone had forced him to swallow a large chunk of ice. "I don't know." He jumped up, needing to move, and paced while Remus stood, picked up the Cloak and examined the Map. After an eternity, Remus handed him an edge of the Cloak and they walked back to the castle in silence. Sirius kept glancing over at Remus under the dappled light that filtered through the magical material, but the other did not look up from the Map until they were inside the stone walls. Immediately Remus threw the Cloak off and started to march in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, the Map clutched in front of him. If he had spent another second in the same proximity as Sirius he would have grabbed him and shaken him, demanded an explanation--and that probably would have led to him doing something terrible and impulsive like kissing the other boy. When he heard Sirius's footsteps behind him he winced and hissed, "I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Wait," Sirius whispered back, grabbing Remus's arm with the edge of the Cloak. The rest of it slid to the floor. "Where are you going?"

"Let go of me," Remus replied, stunned that Sirius had chased him and trying to pull away.

Sirius shook his head and hung on, saying, "I don't want to." There was a pause--they both stopped struggling and stared at each other, and something seemed to snap in the air between them--and then they heard a distinctive meowing. Sirius went white and snatched at the Cloak; Remus dragged them both in the direction of a classroom and at the last minute veered off and pulled them into the bathroom beside it. It contained a single stall and locked from the inside; Sirius dropped the Cloak on the floor and slipped the bolt while Remus checked the Map in the light of his wand.

"It's McGonagall," he mouthed.

Sirius, who had come within a centimeter of being expelled in February, remembered her wrath and said, "Put out the--"

"Nox," Remus finished, and they were plunged into darkness. Sirius leaned against the door, listening hard, but acutely aware of the other's presence. After a few anxious seconds, Remus bent down and pushed the Cloak into the crack under the door and then whispered a spell that illuminated the Map alone. Sirius crouched down beside him and they leaned over it together, so close that Remus could smell Sirius's hair. He had the feeling that he was flirting with disaster, but for some reason tonight he was drawn to the other boy like the tides to the moon. For a second panic flared in his mind; then Sirius sat down on the ground and set the Map at his feet so that it cast strange shadows on his face.

"Remus..." Sirius's breath came in short gasps. They had been too close and some sort of implosion was going off in his stomach. "I'll tell you."

Remus twisted to look at him. "You don't have to."

"I promised you I would."

"Well, I trust you now." Remus closed his eyes; he was suddenly afraid of whatever Sirius was going to say.

"No," Sirius said. His courage started to sound the retreat. "No, I will keep my promise." He swallowed hard. "I wrote a letter."

Remus waited a long time before he said, "And...?"

"It was a letter to you," Sirius whispered.

Remus thought his heart might have stopped. "About what?"

"I was..." Sirius stopped, listening. He looked into Remus's eyes, silently asking if the other heard it--another meowing, slightly different than the first. Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat. Harbinger of evil. Remus nodded, once, and they waited, listening as it moved down the corridor, then stopped outside their door, mewling. "Shite," Sirius mouthed.

Remus pointed his wand at the Marauder's Map and stretched over Sirius to open the door a crack. He was not going to detention before he heard what Sirius had to say. He whispered, "Mischief managed," and then, "Wingardium Leviosa." The Map floated into the air, and he guided the it out the door and then, praying that they would be able to find it again, flung it down the hallway, down a set of stairs, and into the entrance of the castle. They waited, listening as Mrs. Norris streaked away after it, until they were sure that no one was around. Sirius shut the door silently and Remus sagged against his side.

"What was the letter about?" Remus asked again, pushing his hair back from his face. His stomach clenched itself into angry knots; his breath rattled in his chest.

"I was just writing to you," Sirius said, staring down at the floor. "I was writing it in History of Magic--remember how we had it with the Slytherins--and I put it in my bag and was going to give it to you, but Snape must have taken it out and read it... and, well..."

"But why would he care about a note you wrote to me?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "I was telling you that I liked you."

Remus raised an eyebrow. Warmth spread throughout his body, making his fingertips tingle. "Of course you--"

"As more than a friend," Sirius interrupted. "I like you as more than a friend."

"Still?" Remus asked. He tried to keep his voice steady.

"Always," Sirius replied, fervent. Loving Remus was his religion. "What would you have said, if I'd been able to give you the note?"

Remus watched him out of the corner of his eyes; Sirius looked anxious and beautiful, a celestial event happening beside him. He slid his hand down the other's arm until their hands slipped together. Sirius sighed and moved closer, reaching out with his free hand and nestled his fingers into the curls at the base of Remus's neck. Slowly, awkwardly, they leaned forward, Remus's eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted and Sirius watching him and not quite believing what was about to happen--

"Who's in there?" demanded an angry voice that they knew too well. Sirius leapt back with a yelp and Remus opened his eyes, dazed. For a minute their eyes met, a silent promise, and then the door swung inward, nearly crushing them both. The caretaker stared down at them, his yellowing eyes bulging out of his head at their insolence. "Do you know what time it is?" he demanded, grinning. "Professor McGonagall will love to hear this."

They followed him silently down the hallway, not paying attention to anything but each other as they walked. Remus swung his hand out and touched Sirius's; Sirius glanced over at him, his grin as unstoppable as a force of nature. They went down a flight of stairs and Filch stopped, bending down to look at something. The two boys stopped, confused but not concerned until Filch straightened up, holding the Marauder's Map.

"What's this?" he demanded. "My cat's been playing with it." Mrs. Norris twined her way around his boots, mewling again and batting her paws at the dirty parchment.

Sirius shrugged, his eyes fixed on the Map. Its edges were grubby with the fingerprints of the little boys they'd been. Remus said, "It looks like rubbish."

Filch kept it and led them to his office, locking them in and saying, "You boys stay here while I fetch Professor McGonagall."

The door slammed shut. Sirius and Remus stood shoulder to shoulder, sneaking nervous looks at each other. Eventually Sirius said, "How long do you think he's gone for?"

Remus stepped in front of him and pushed his black hair away from his face. Sirius closed his eyes out of pure instinct just as Remus's mouth touched his. He smiled uncontrollably and Remus wound up sucking on his lower lip. They were still leaning into each other, off balance, merrily trying to figure out the physics of their kiss, when they heard McGonagall's voice outside the door. Sirius jumped so far back that he hit a moldy filing cabinet and knocked off a pile of used dungbombs; Remus remained standing in the center of the room, his eyes closed and a dreamy look on his face.

"Let me see this parchment," she said, and the door opened. Remus didn't hear a thing, as he had entered some sort of new plane where fantasies and real life coincided in a spectacular fashion. Sirius pulled himself up and dragged Remus out of the center of the room while McGonagall glared and Filch handed her the Map. She tapped it with her wand a few times, and Sirius suddenly knew what was coming and squeezed Remus's arm hard.

In the end, they had to admit that McGonagall took the insults well--even the one from Mr. Prongs, which remarked that she would not know an emotion if it slapped her in the face--and gave the two boys only a few nights of detention. Filch confiscated the Map, and although several attempts were made by the Marauders to break into his office and retrieve it, they never saw it again.