Transition

5. Acceptance

Acceptance is not a state of passivity or inaction. I am not saying you can't change the world, right wrongs, or replace evil with good. Acceptance is, in fact, the first step to successful action. If you don't fully accept a situation precisely the way it is, you will have difficulty changing it. Moreover, if you don't fully accept the situation, you will never really know if the situation should be changed.

--Peter McWilliams

They sat facing each other for what seemed like hours, but Bill figured it was probably only a few minutes. Remus stared at him like he was something peculiar. Bill supposed he was. Few would, after all, dare to fall in love with a werewolf.

Love. Was it love? Bill was sure it was. It had come upon him suddenly, but he knew when he felt it what he was feeling. He was sure, though, that Remus did not feel it back, not yet at least. Bill had patience, though. He could wait a lifetime for Remus and he would, because love like this only came once in a life.

Bill was sure Remus thought that he pitied him; that he was trying to find a way to help Remus forget Sirius and get past all the mourning. That was not it at all. Bill knew that Remus loved Sirius and that Remus would always love Sirius. Despite all Bill's love and patience, Remus' heart would never wholly be his. It was the consequence of loving a man who had loved and lost. He didn't care. He would take any part of Remus that was offered and Bill would cherish it until his death.

It made Bill uneasy that Remus was staring at him. It was a look Bill had long forgotten: the odd stare a Professor gives a student when they can't quite figure out where they misplaced their common sense. Bill didn't want Remus to outright reject him. He prayed fervently to every God he knew that Remus would not just shake his head and tell Bill to leave. This place was home now. Remus was home.

Almost as if he'd read Bill's thoughts, Remus turned his eyes towards the frayed bed spread under his folded hands. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he told Bill.

Bill looked up from where he had been glancing at his own hands. "Remus..."

Remus shook his head and pushed the blanket off of him. "Even Sirius did not know. It's better this way," he said to Bill, getting up and leaving the room.

Bill stayed sitting in the bedside chair for a little while longer before getting up and following Remus' path out of the cluttered, neglected bedroom.

Hours turned into days and the days slowly melted into weeks. As the time went by Bill started to notice little things. Remus was not happier, but there was a certain air about him that he could not place.

One cold winter morning he realized as he walked by the bathroom at two in the afternoon that there was no razor and towel sitting on the table by the door. He wondered how long it had been that Remus had been forgetting to put out Sirius' towel.

He noticed, after that. Remus did not put out Sirius' teacup, and he didn't bother to set the breakfast table, since he ate late when he ate at all. When he did the shopping, Bill noticed from across the street that Remus didn't try and tie off Padfoot anymore. He wondered to himself in the dark of the night if maybe Remus was finally starting to adjust.

Snow was falling on London before Bill decided to break the silence that had permeated the place since the day he had decided to kiss Remus. He found Remus reading in the Black family library. He was settled among a stack of books on a chair that was probably older and worth more than his family home. Bill sat down across from him and Remus looked up from his tome and smiled at him. "I'm looking up Inferi for Dumbledore," he told Bill conversationally, as if there hadn't been almost two months of silence between them. "He thinks Voldemort might try using them again."

Bill winced at Voldemort's name but did not break his gaze away from Remus. "I'm not here to talk about Inferi, Remus," he said and Remus smiled again, knowingly this time.

"I'm well aware of why you're in here, Bill."

Bill felt his palms start to moisten. His mouth was getting dry. Remus knew, of course Remus knew. He knew everything, after all. "And..?" he managed.

Remus placed the book on top of the shortest stack within reach and stood up from the chair, crossing the small space between them. "I've realized something."

Bill was nervous. "O-oh?"

"Sirius is gone. He will never come back. I have to move on, and move forward. I'm willing to give you a chance..." A smile flittered across Remus' face. "After all, if there was one thing Sirius always understood, it was the funny way the heart works. If you don't mind sharing me with a dead man, that is."

Bill felt all the breath leave his lungs and before he could stop himself he was on his feet and kissing Remus.

Fine.