Staring At The Sun

I'm not the only one staring at the sun.

It was those last days of Hogwarts that changed things. NEWTs were over and the rest of their lives were stretching out in front of them. They were lying under a tree by the lake and it was the two of them. James was away in Hogsmeade with Lily and at this moment they had no need for anyone else. Peter had disappeared with a blonde from Hufflepuff - he was happy not being serious about anyone in particular - and then it had just been them. Just sitting and staring at the sun.

Life was different now. It had changed after what had happened at the end of last year. Was it just thoughtlessness or was it a sign of something deeper and darker? He sat up and looked at the boy next to him - still the reckless boy that he had met at the age of eleven, determined to walk his own path - whatever that path would be. Wanting to rebel but desperately loyal to those he deemed loyal. That was the trick: proving yourself worthy of that loyalty but without seemingly to. Had the rays of sun always drifted through the leaves in this particular way?

He lay back and looked at himself in his mind's eye. Too thin. Too wary. He supposed he was happy. Whatever that meant these days. During the days, it was always them against the world. A tightly knitted pack. At night, it was just the two of them. He could barely remember a time when he preferred to sleep alone. He needed the warmth of someone else. The tangle of sheets and legs and the feel of warm breath on his shoulder. Then, the moon was never something to be feared but something to be admired.

Her light never blinded like the sun's. It picked out a person's flaws but also showed their admirable qualities. James's grin as he came up with another scheme. Schemes that were always funny if you weren't at the wrong end of them. Peter's dry and often quite filthy sense of humour, sometimes close enough to the truth to hurt. Sirius's fierce sense of independence. But when did that sense allow him to admit he needed help? The moon was a cursed blessing. She allowed you to see people in their true light. Whilst the sun blinded you to things you didn't want to see.

A shadow passed over the sun and a finger traced along his jaw line. He opened his eyes to meet grey ones. This was good touching. Someone who knew who he was inside and didn't fear to touch him. Someone who learnt from the cradle that a half breed with tainted blood should never be consorting with the heir of the Black family, let alone share a bed as lovers. If you could call them lovers. They were more than friends but not quite lovers. Another secret that the sun hid.

Hands traced patterns on bare skin. Just doing what felt right. Talking without speaking. Then a bowed head and the brush of lips against his. A half smile that promised that there would be more later. Maybe. Was this the whole truth? Things were always best at dusk. Enough sunlight to hide the darkest of things and enough moonlight to see the truth in most.

Did they need each other because they wanted each other? Or did the want grow from the need? The brightest star in the night skies and the moon illuminated the truth to everyone with the courage to look for it. A combination that could burn fiercely for years to come or just die a gentle death like the waxing and waning of the moon. But for now, one had to be content with what was here. Who knew where they were going to be tomorrow, let alone in twenty years time?

Today they were together and that was all that mattered.

Sounds drifted down from the castle as classes finished and people tumbled out to enjoy the last of the sunshine before dinner. They took no notice of the two figures, who were sitting in the sunshine and content in just being. And if they saw a lingering touch or look, they knew better than to taunt. For wouldn't Sirius Black hex you six ways to Sunday? And wherever Sirius Black was, James Potter was never far away. Between them, they could make a person regret inappropriate words. The last time someone tried it, they were spitting feathers for three days. And the other two of that quartet would turn and twist your words until your head spun.

But the sun hid secrets and it didn't matter if people whispered now. They were leaving soon and who in the big bad world listened to schoolyard gossip, anyway? Time for dinner came and went and still they sat. The shadows lengthened and once again they were alone.

Hands slid under shirts and the kisses weren't feather light any more. They were desperately needy and said all the things that been left unsaid. Where are we going to be this time next year? Will we be together? And the burning question that was always pushed away, will we still be alive? Doesn't matter. We're here now and now is what is important.

Ties loosened and then discarded. Buttons pulled at and ripped. Shirts in a pile. Tentative hands plucked at each other's trousers, now tugged down past knees. Soft touches and then a ragged intake of breath. Was this loving or something else? Was it just a desperate way of trying to feel alive? If you were touching and being touched, then it meant you weren't dead or soulless. You were still capable of laughing and crying, no matter what was happening outside these walls.

That was the secret that the sunshine hid. In the harsh light of day, it was difficult to remember if you were still alive. You just survived from day to day and only truly came to life in the moonlight. In the moonlight, scars can be partially healed through another's acceptance. And surely, that is the best way to live? Scars and all.

Staring at the sun made black spots appear before your eyes but the moon made a person's secrets available to all. Remus wasn't sure which was worse.