All the Young Dudes ( Sirius' Perspective )

Sixth Year : Bad Moon Rising

It ain’t no big thing

To wait for the bell to ring

It ain’t no big thing

The toll of the bell

Aggravated, spare for days

I troll downtown, the red light place

Jump up, bubble up, what’s in store?

Love is the drug and I need to score

Showing out, showing out, hit and run

Boy meets girl where the beat goes on

Stitched up tight, can’t shake free

Love is the drug, got a hook on me

 

Tuesday 4th January 1977

Sirius had come to a Conclusion. It was an Important Conclusion, a Revelatory Conclusion, even. It had come to him two days after everyone arrived back at the castle, when he found himself absentmindedly studying the way Remus’s tongue poked out of his mouth, slightly, as he took notes in Charms, unaware that he was staring until he heard James whisper,

“Siiiriuss...psst, oi, Sirius!”

He’d snapped his head around, startled, and found his friend peering over his shoulder, studying the left side of the classroom.

“What are you looking at?”

Sirius had swallowed audibly, whispering back quickly,

“Nothing! No one!”

He had come to the Conclusion soon after that. It was a simple conclusion, but quite necessary if he wanted to ensure that he did not completely obliterate every friendship he had left.  The Conclusion that Sirius came to was this:

It was all in his head.

Christmas had been lovely, wonderful and thrilling and golden—but it had done something funny to him, and now every time Sirius looked at Remus he felt a strange ache in his chest. They’d be sitting in the common room, and he’d find himself wanting to reach out and run a hand through those tousled curls, or lean over and kiss the side of his neck, or twine their fingers together and run his thumb over the small scars on the back of Moony's hand. And that had been fine, when it was just the two of them—but it wasn’t fine now, with their friends always watching, with the halls filled once more by black-robed students.

The problem, Sirius thought, was that he was blowing everything out of proportion—letting his feelings get the better of him, making mountains out of molehills, the way he always did. It wasn’t like he absolutely needed to snog Remus in the middle of the common room, not like it was that hard to cast silencing charm if they needed to, not like it was impossible to wait for James and Peter to fall asleep before he snuck into Moony’s bed.

He had just gotten spoiled, over Christmas. The private intimacy had been so easy, so simple, so...

Well, it didn’t matter. It had been a one-time thing, and it was over now. They could go right back to normal—back to broom cupboards and empty classrooms and moans stifled under silencing charms. It was just a bit of fun, after all. Just—getting off. Not like there was anything more to it.