We can post fic? YAY.

Title: Fairy Tales
Author: Ami (of Slytherin)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Warnings: boys kissing boys, rawr
Notes: my first Harry Potter ficlet EVER. barely more than a drabble (or two), written for the_plamos. because she is cool like that. <3<3




Remus has always been fascinated by tales of knights in shining armor, beautiful maidens, monsters, and transformations and magic. Fairy tales, the Muggle world’s limited, ignorant view of magic.

His family and friends laugh at, roll their eyes at, tolerate and ridicule his love for these ancient tales. But Remus doesn’t care. They don’t – they *can’t* - understand what these stories mean to him.

His favorite is the story of Beauty and the Beast. The transformative power of love – Remus wants to believe in it so *badly*. He is the Beast; there is no use in pretending otherwise. He is the Beast and every month he transforms into a horrible monster.

He always comes back though, and Remus is grateful for that. But he can’t quite give up his belief in this fairy tale. It is his only folly, the only frivolity in solid, dependable, practical Remus’ character, and he has not qualms about giving into it. It is a fantasy he can abandon himself wholly to, a dream he can cling to.

Sometimes the only thing that keeps him sane is this dream, this half-realized belief in the transformative power of love. This small hope that maybe…maybe one day, there will be a Beauty who can end this horror, this enchantment – forever.

Remus goes in and comes out of his night of the Beast thinking this thought.

And he never tells anyone, never breathes a word.



*


Somewhere, somehow, Sirius finds Remus’ copy of Muggle fairy tales. It nearly stops Remus’ heart to enter the Common Room to see Sirius seated primly in his favorite armchair, his legs stretched out before him and crossed at the ankle. His hands are draped casually across the book’s leather cover and Remus just wants to *die*. Panic has frozen him to the spot, thoughts tumbling wildly through his mind – should he say anything? Take the book back? Simply ignore Sirius?

Belatedly, Remus realizes a small crowd is gathered around Sirius. Some at his feet as though he is a king and they mere peasants, other lounging in nearby armchairs, and still more standing in small clumps around him. Remus feels an icy trickle down his spine. He will never live this down, he will be branded a Muggle-lover and all the Slytherins will torment him. The Ravenclaws will laugh at his silliness, his childishness and even the Hufflepuffs will shy away from him. And the Gryffindors – Remus’ heart plummets – they’ll take their cue from Sirius. He had thought, hope, he and Sirius were becoming friends…he’d made Sirius laugh a few times, explained a difficult concept once or twice.

All these panic-stricken thoughts fire through Remus’ head at incredible speed, and he’s actually only been in the Common Room a minute or two before Sirius begins to speak. “Shall I read another?” he asks his audience, his tone indifferent as his fingers stroke languidly at the book’s spine. What? Remus thinks.

Remus watches, amazed, as Sirius is encouraged to open the book once more. Sirius shrugs as he opens the book, as if this were no matter of importance. His lips twitch at the corners though and his dark eyes are bright with pleasure. He’s thriving on the attention; Remus is certain Sirius has grown five inches simply by having every eye in the room fastened on him.

And then, to Remus’ astonishment, Sirius begins to read a fairy tale. He’s a born storyteller, a talented actor who pleases without trying, whose performance only improves with each passing second.

Dumbfounded, Remus sits down where he’s stood and listens to his precious tale told in a way he’s never imagined before. And it doesn’t seem odd at all for a room full of wizards and witches to be spellbound by a Muggle’s child tale, so great is the power of Sirius’ voice.

Remus remains in his spot on the floor, even after Sirius is finished and has slammed the book shut for good. The Common Room springs back to life around him and yet, Remus stays where he is frozen. Until-

Sirius kneels down in front of Remus. He flicks a strand of hair from his eyes with the sort of messy elegance that makes Remus’ heart ache, and holds the book out to Remus. “Thanks,” he says softly.

“You’re welcome,” Remus replies, a moment too late. He reaches for his book, avoiding Sirius’ eyes.

“Muggle born?” Sirius sounds genuinely interested and Remus half-wishes he was, if only to prolong the conversation.

But he’s not and sadly, shakes his head. “Just like the stories,” he adds, somewhat apologetically.

Sirius is looking at Remus thoughtfully. “Lupin,” he says, “Remus, my friend, do you like Quidditch?”

It would have been pompous from anyone else, but it’s not, it’s from Sirius and Remus almost dies. “Love Quidditch,” he says happily.


*


Somewhere between first and fourth year, Remus develops a bit of a crush on Sirius. It’s nothing new, nothing unheard of, at least half the school has a crush on Sirius. And maybe that’s why Remus is reluctant to speak of it, tries to keep it suppressed and hidden in the back of his mind.

Remus doesn’t want to be another one of the group that follows Sirius around adoringly, he doesn’t want to be just another face in a sea of admiration. He’s Sirius’ best friend, he knows Sirius better than that.

He *deserves* better than that.

James thinks he’s being ridiculous. “Sirius adores you,” he says again and again until it’s faded into some sort of bizarre chant in the back of Remus’ mind.

SiriusadoresyouadoresyouSiriusadoresyou…

It’s all very sick and smacks slightly of obsession, actually.

But there’s no getting over it, every time Remus thinks he’s left this fancy behind, every time he gets angry at Sirius and vows to never have anything to do with him again, Sirius does something that completely changes his mind and makes him fall even harder. And Remus is positive Sirius is aware of the effect he has on Remus – how can he not be? Why else would he go out of his way to be so (for lack of better words) *kind* to Remus.

It breaks Remus’ heart that Sirius is so kind to him when he is to no one else. Sirius must know. And he’s trying to let Remus down gently and that makes Remus’ infatuation grow even more.

James laughs at him when he says this. “Idiot,” he says to Remus. “He’s *flirting* with you.”

That can’t be though. Remus has seen Sirius flirt and Sirius does *not* flirt by being quiet and thoughtful with you. Sirius flirts by being loud and shining and brilliant with you.

Peter gets wind of Remus’ little crush eventually and he giggles incessantly any time Remus and Sirius are in the same room together or whenever someone mentions Sirius to Remus. This grows annoying very quickly and Remus eventually casts a silencing charm on Peter and doesn’t remove it for a good two weeks.

Peter avoids Remus like the plague after that. And Remus is relieved.

Remus finishes fourth year without ever saying a word beyond the carefully drawn borders of friendship to Sirius and goes home for the summer, hoping this puppy love will die before his Hogwarts letter arrives that August.


*


James invites Sirius and Remus to his parents’ home for the last two weeks of holiday and Remus is disappointed to realize that:

1. He is not over Sirius
2. Sirius is as kind and quiet around Remus as always
3. Sirius looks really, really good with a tan and unbrushed hair and no shirt on


*


James, always endeavoring to make himself irresistible to a certain Miss Lily Evans does some investigating and browsing through Peter’s Muggle Studies notes and comes with (in his estimable opinion) a perfectly brilliant way to celebrate Halloween.

“We’ll have a Gryffindor party in the Common Room after the feast,” he announces to his friends that morning over toast and sausage.

Remus gives him a skeptic raise of the eyebrow and gives no further comment on the subject. Peter on the other hand, squirms in either an expression of pleasure or complete fear of the punishment James’ antics always seem to bring.

Sirius, of course, jumps on the subject eagerly. “It’ll be fantastic,” he says loudly and then, with a suspicious glance around the Great Hall, drops his voice. “We’ll sneak out for butterbeer and-,”

“No you won’t,” Remus cuts in, fingering his prefect badge as he speaks. “You’ll get us all in trouble, you were nearly caught last time.” And his hearts breaks, a little, as Sirius smiles at him and gives in immediately rather than arguing and knocking him off his chair like he would have done to anyone else.

James makes sure Lily Evans is watching him as he leans back in his seat and ruffles his hair in what he thinks is a decidedly rakish manner. She rolls her eyes and pointedly opens and raises the textbook on her lap to cover her face. James makes a disgusted noise and leans in and says in a low, urgent voice, “See here, I’ve been talking to some Muggle-borns about it and they’ve told me about this game they play at parties, it’s called Spin-the-Bottle and-,”

Remus’ eyes widen. “I forbid you to make Evans kiss you, she’s likely to chew your lip off.”

“I won’t enchant the bottle so if it DOES land on her, it’s a complete act of chance and fate,” James bargains.

“No,” Remus says, only slightly less certain than before.

“It’ll be fun,” Sirius says encouragingly. His eyes lock on Remus’ and he smiles (in a true rakish manner, not a supposed one like James’) and adds, “You never know what lovely girl – or boy – your spin might land on.”

Remus’ heart does a silly fluttery thing and he wishes that he was made of steel as he relents: “Fine. But if she bites you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”


*


Sirius’ spin lands on Remus one, two, three times.

The first time he places a gallant kiss to Remus’ hand.

The second time he leans in for the cheek and laughs instead at the heat of Remus’ blush.

The third time he gets Remus square on the mouth.

Remus floats out of the Common Room that night and doesn’t even bother to tell James and Peter to stop laughing as he falls into bed and dreams sparkling dreams filled with champagne and fields of flowers and more, lots more, of Sirius’ kisses.


*


Remus is in love with Sirius and he doesn’t find it odd at all to be woken up the morning after Halloween by a pair of dark eyes staring at him. “Good morning,” he says to Sirius.

“I love you,” Sirius says back and looks inexplicably frightened as Remus sits up in bed.

The fright, Remus is glad to see, dies away after a second kiss.


*


“Come with me,” Sirius murmurs, sidling up to Remus and wrapping his fingers around his wrist. Remus looks at him, surprised. “Come on,” Sirius insists, pulling harder at Remus’ wrist.

Confused, Remus allows himself to be led away from the Great Hall. Sirius is acting strangely, keeping a firm hold on Remus and darting about the corridor, glancing around furtively and telling Remus to “shh!” at every sound. Remus rolls his eyes and allows himself to be dragged. If this is Sirius’ attempt at subtly, he’s failing miserably.

“Okay,” Sirius says suddenly and without warning, shoves Remus into a dusty room. He’s never been in here before and after doing a careful turnabout, gathers that he’s in a rather large, little used, closet.

Remus stares at him, watching as Sirius slams the door closed and kicks brooms, buckets, mops out of the way. “What are you *doing*?” he asks, as Sirius turns around in the small space he’s cleared and nods at it.

“I want to show you something…something that will help you when, you know.” Sirius has never been very good with Remus’ transformation, it worries and excites him and he can never refer to it like the others can. “James and Peter and I have been working on it for months…and I’m the first who’s got it…”

“Sirius, what are you talking about?” The words are barely out of Remus’ mouth when suddenly, without warning, Sirius morphs and melts and slides until it’s not Sirius, it’s a huge shaggy dog where Sirius once stood.

Remus is horrified. “Sirius?” he whispers and takes a staggering step back, away from the dog. He trips over a stray mop and falls, lands flat on his back and takes huge gasping breaths that don’t seem to bring any air to his lungs.

The dog is gone and Sirius is back and he’s crawling past dust and buckets to get at Remus’ side. “Remus?” he asks, reaching for Remus’ hand. He holds it tightly, nearly breaks Remus’ fingers in his grip. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be pleased, now we can be together on those nights, we can help you-,” Sirius breaks off, astonished, as for the first time he sees tears form in Remus’ eyes.

“You’re the *same* now,” Remus whispers and is dismayed to find the tears rolling down his cheeks. “You’re exactly the same as me.”

“Well yes, that was the point,” Sirius says, patting Remus’ hand in a useless gesture of comfort. He doesn’t understand, why isn’t Remus happy? Why isn’t he excited? Why is he *crying*.

“No it’s not,” Remus says miserably and wipes his free hand across his face. “That’s not the point at all…the point was…”

“What was the point?” Sirius asks gently and leans down to hear what Remus has to say.

“The point was to end it all,” Remus says and begins to cry again. He cries for his shattered dreams and loss of hope. He cries for himself and for the Beast he is doomed to become, the Beast he is condemned to be for the rest of his days.

And he cries for Sirius because he loves Sirius and Sirius is beautiful to him and Sirius was to end it all.

And all Sirius can do is pat his hand and wait for the tears to die.

::End::