Secretly

Secretly

by Noctiluca

Secretly he watches as the light-brown-haired boy bends over the piece of parchment and dips the quill into the rich, dark ink, pausing for a moment before he starts to write. Listens to the sound of the fine metal tip scraping over the expensive paper, the writing uneven and restless, whereas his own letters are round and bold. Notices the small, uneasy frown on the handsome boy's forehead and feels the urge to run gentle fingertips over the soft, pale skin to soothe it. Feels a million mixed emotions stirring deep inside, and a small, amazed smile flickers on his lips for the split of a second as he wonders just how his friend is able to touch him so deeply.

Sirius will never be able to understand how Remus manages to take it all, day by day. How he just doesn't seem to care about being bullied, and made fun of. How he takes it with a dignity that is both heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. Sirius is fascinated, mesmerized by that haunted look in his beautiful eyes. And sometimes when he watches him, he has a feeling that his friend is waiting; waiting for something to happen. He isn't sure what it is that Remus is waiting for, but secretly he hopes to discover the answer.

The raven-haired boy can't remember when things started to change between them. He can't recall the first time he felt that little shiver running down his spine when their eyes met, or that strange, anxious jerk in his stomach, so deliciously forbidden and addictive. All he knows is that his skin tingles with electricity at the casual touches, and something deep inside is always aching and burning for more.

Soon, Sirius tells himself silently, soon things will be easier for Remus. He gets a little nervous thinking about their planned transformation and all the dangers and possible consequences. But none of his doubts and fears are strong enough to overpower his will, his need to help his friend. They have been working very hard for years, and both James and him are well-prepared and ready. Gazing at the werewolf from behind his large, leather-bound Potions book, Sirius wonders if Remus knows about their secret plans. What will he say when he finds out? What will he think the first time he sees Sirius in his new animal shape?

He's always known which animal to transform into. He's known it long before he became aware of the change between Remus and him. And maybe, he thinks, that change didn't come quite so suddenly after all. A strong, big dog, he'd said to James, would be able to keep the wolf in check if necessary. It seemed like a plausible reason enough for him at that time. But he'd always known that there was more behind it all.

For dogs, deep in their souls, remember being wild, untamed and free long before man tamed them and became their master and friend. They remember the wide plains and the deep, dangerous woods. They remember the haunting call of their pack under the silver-tinted moon on dark winter nights. Only in the shape of wolves, their ancestors, is that memory still alive. Deep in their souls, they feel the bond between them. A connection that is both sad and beautiful. And the knowledge that they are the same, and still so very different.

When he looks at Remus, Sirius doesn't notice the shabby handed-down robes that are far too big for the skinny fifteen-year old. He doesn't see the untidy light-brown hair that always falls into his face, or the dark shadows under his tired eyes. What Sirius sees is far from what everyone else sees when they look at the werewolf. They see a thin, insecure teenager nobody ever notices because there's nothing special about him. But Sirius sees beauty, and strength. He sees a young man full of hopes and dreams, bold and brave enough to challenge a fate that doomed him to be a monster and outcast for life. He sees someone truly remarkable, and special in every possible way. It's always him and James that are admired and get all the attention and respect. But Sirius knows that Remus deserves it so much more than they do.

Lifting his eyes from the parchment as if in answer to a silent call, Remus' intense gaze focuses on his friend's face, and a gentle smile soothes his concentrated expression. For that brief moment only, he seems to shine with an inner light, and Sirius finds himself catching his breath at the little excited shiver running over his body.

"What is it?" The warmth of the smile still lingers in the soft sound of Remus' voice.

"Nothing," Sirius is quick to reply, averting his eyes for a second, but unable to resist meeting Remus' gaze again immediately. Clearing his throat, he nods to one of the books that are spread out on the common room table before them. "Have you finished your Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment? With the tons of extra homework Binns gave us, I'll never get it done by Friday."

Another smile lights up the pale boy's face, and with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, he hands his friend a roll of parchment. "Here, you can copy mine. It's quite brilliant."

Sirius grins, and both their eyes shine a little more brightly than the occasion justifies. "Naturally."

A little too quickly, Sirius leans forward to take the parchment, his fingers brushing against the werewolf's as he takes it, then closing around them. Remus doesn't let go.

The raven-haired boy can hear his heart beating madly in his chest. Feels smooth, warm skin underneath his fingertips, feels the heat and the energy pulsating between them. Knows that his cheeks are blushing lightly, but doesn't care. There's something thoughtful in his friend's beautiful eyes that rest on him unblinkingly. A question.

But it's the one question Sirius is not prepared to answer yet.

"Thanks, Rem."

"Anytime." The handsome werewolf slowly draws his fingers back as if hesitant to break the contact. He smiles and returns his attention to his essay, dips the quill into the ink again.

Sirius swallows, holds the parchment gently in his sweaty hand for a moment before carefully unrolling it on the table. Stares at his friend's familiar, spidery writing, mirroring the restless, tortured soul that produced it. Doesn't see the letters, the words, can't make out sentences. Just follows the ups and downs, the sharp edges and soft curves with his eyes.

And Sirius sees nothing but beauty. And a message, hidden somewhere between the lines. Meant for only him, secretly.

-FIN-