The Marauders Year Five Part 2 #Wattys2017

Go Ahead, Ask Him

Go Ahead, Ask Him

The werewolf was terrible that night. His teeth flashing bright and his eyes yellow, angry, and piercing. It took the stag and the dog both to keep him under control. Sirius pleaded with him to come back, but Remus was lost deep beneath the werewolf's instincts, lashing out harshly, like a great whirlwind of danger. Sirius now sat on the floor of the Shack, the first rays of sunlight peeking through the cracks in the boarded up windows, Remus lay on the floor, his head in Sirius's lap. Sirius's back rested against the front of the couch, his head on the seat cushion, staring up at the cracking plaster of the ceiling, his fingers absently running through the curls at Remus's forehead. A lump had risen up in his throat.

It had been the hardest thing, sitting and rubbing the pains out of Remus's back the night before, holding him through the horrible last minutes before the moonrise, knowing that when he woke up with the sun this morning it would be back to being separated, back to the division that had grown between them. Sirius had sat watching the sun through the gap in the window covering, slowly reaching long fingers of light over the forest, turning the sky violet, then pink and cream... He looked down at Remus's face, his round-ended nose and pink blush across his cheeks, a soft smattering of freckles beneath his eyes, and of course those scars... garish and severe. Sirius knew those scars so well, he'd kissed them so many times, run his fingers across that one over Remus's nose... licked that parenthesis that curved around his mouth...

"I hate my scars," Remus had said that day.

"I love them," Sirius had replied, "You're the universe and they are your constellations."

He wished the sun would never rise further than it had already, that he could stay there, holding Remus Lupin all his life.

Prongs woke up, the stag lifting his head from the floor. The rat on his head curled his tail sleepily around the antler, holding on right at the feeling of the movement beneath him. He stared across the room at the two boys in the first rays of sunlight, his wide brown eyes blinking calmly, taking in the sight of Sirius running his fingers over Remus's hair. Sirius let his hands fall away as though he'd been caught and was guilty of some crime.

With a shudder, the stag transformed and there was James with a rat scrambling to cling his claws into his messy hair. James laughed and pulled Wormtail down from his head and the rat curled quickly into the pocket of James's sweater, his tail sticking out, hanging over the pocket. James stretched. "How is he?"

"He seems okay," Sirius said quietly.

"Did you sleep?"

Sirius shook his head.

James looked out the window. "Sun's up. Gotta go to class soon."

Sirius nodded slowly.

James stood up slowly, he walked over and patted Sirius's head. "You're staying here, aren't you?"

Sirius looked up. "Yeah."

"Alright. Well. I'll - I'll leave you to it, then." James looked at Remus and cleared his throat. "Good luck."

Sirius's eyes searched James's face. "Thanks."

He watched as James dropped through the trapdoor, the wormy tail of the rat still sticking out of his pocket, and pulled the door shut behind him. Sirius turned back to look at Remus as he slept.

Maybe there was hope.

Maybe.

There isn't hope, Achlys whispered.