Hey, Remus!

NOTE - Chapter updated on February 23rd 2025.

In the dimly lit confines of the old Black family library, the faint crackle of a fireplace filled the silence as Remus sat in a worn armchair, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. The weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on his chest, and the usual solace he found in the quiet moments of the night felt elusive. He barely noticed when Sirius entered the room, a bottle of firewhisky in hand.
"Can't sleep?" Sirius asked, settling into the armchair opposite Remus. He poured two glasses of the amber liquid and slid one across the small table between them.
Remus accepted the glass with a murmured thanks, his fingers tracing the rim absently. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching comfortably until Sirius broke it.
"You've got that look," Sirius remarked, studying his friend. "The one that says you're thinking too much again."
Remus managed a small, rueful smile.
"When am I not?"
Sirius raised his glass in a mock toast.
"Fair point. But something's eating at you tonight. Want to talk about it?"
Remus hesitated, the words catching in his throat. Sirius leaned back, looking around with a raised brow.
"Where's Mary?" Sirius asked casually, taking a sip of his drink.
"Asleep," Remus replied, his voice soft. "I left her in bed."
Sirius's lips twitched into a sly grin.
"Your bed?"
Remus flushed slightly, glancing away.
"Yes, my bed."
Sirius let out a low whistle, his grin widening.
"Well, well. Look at you, Moony. Finally living a little."
"Don't," Remus warned, though there was no real heat in his voice.
"I'm just saying," Sirius teased, lifting his glass in a toast. "It's about time you had some happiness."
Remus shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
"It's not that simple."
"It never is," Sirius agreed, his teasing tone softening. "But that doesn't mean it's not worth it."
Remus sighed, the weight of his earlier thoughts pressing down once more.
"That's what I'm afraid of."
Sirius arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.
"What's going on?"
Remus exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping as he stared into the fire. For a long moment, he said nothing, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, each word weighted with the effort it took to say them aloud.
"She's... she's everything I didn't know I needed," he admitted, the words tumbling out in a raw, unguarded confession. "I've spent so much of my life convincing myself that I didn't deserve anything good. That I was too broken, too dangerous, too... unworthy. And then she came along." His lips curved into the faintest, bittersweet smile. "She didn't just see the parts of me I hate. She embraced them. She saw all the reasons why I thought I couldn't be loved, and instead of running, she stayed. She loved me anyway."
Sirius's teasing grin faded entirely, replaced by an expression of quiet empathy. He watched his friend intently, letting the words come at their own pace.
"And now that I have her," Remus continued, his voice thick with emotion, "I can't stop thinking about when I'll lose her. When she has to go back. Back to her world." He paused, swallowing hard, as if the very thought hurt too much to say aloud.
Sirius's expression softened further, his teasing demeanor giving way to genuine concern.
"You've really fallen for her," he said quietly, his voice free of judgment, only understanding.
"I've never felt like this before," Remus admitted, his greenish-blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I've never let myself. It was always too risky, too complicated. Every time I even thought about opening my heart to someone, I'd tell myself it was impossible. I'd be putting them in danger. I'd be selfish for letting them love me." His voice broke slightly, but he pushed on, his words a torrent now. "But with Mary, it just happened. I didn't even see it coming. I couldn't stop it. And now..." He trailed off, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his eyes as though trying to physically hold himself together. "Now, I can't imagine losing her. It's like knowing the happiest moment of your life has an expiration date. How do you live with that?"
Sirius leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied Remus with uncharacteristic seriousness.
"You're scared."
"Terrified," Remus confessed, his gaze dropping to the floor. His hands tightened around his glass as though it were the only thing keeping him grounded. "Every moment with her is a reminder that it's temporary. That no matter how much I want to hold onto this, I can't. And I don't know how I'll handle it when she has to leave." He let out a shaky breath, his voice trembling with the depth of his feelings. "I've never been in love before, and the thought of losing her... it hurts too much to even think about."
Sirius nodded slowly, his eyes filled with understanding.
"I get it, mate. Love is a hell of a thing. It's messy and painful, but it's also what makes life worth living. You're not alone in this."
Remus looked at him, curiosity mingling with the vulnerability in his gaze.
"How do you know?" he asked softly. "You've never been in love either, have you?"
Sirius leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look crossing his face.
"No," he admitted, swirling the firewhisky in his glass. "I haven't. Not the way you're talking about. But I've seen it. I've seen what it does to people. How it changes them, for better or worse." He paused, eyes drifting to the fire. "I watched my parents, and they didn't have love. What they had was control, manipulation. It was a nightmare. But then, I saw James and Lily. They had something real, something beautiful. It wasn't perfect, but it was strong. They fought, sure, but they always found their way back to each other."
Sirius turned back to Remus, his expression softening.
"And then there's you. I've seen how you've changed since Mary came into your life. You smile more, you laugh more, you look younger. She's brought out something in you that I don't think even you realized was there."
Remus's lips curved into a faint smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
"She has."
Sirius leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees once more.
"I don't have to be in love to know what it looks like. It's in the way you talk about her, the way you look at her. It's in the fact that you're sitting here, terrified of losing her because you care so damn much. That's being in love, Remus. And yeah, it hurts, but doesn't it also feel... incredible? Knowing someone loves you like that? Knowing you've let yourself love her?"
Remus's lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes were still shadowed with doubt.
"It does," he admitted quietly. "It feels like... like she's given me a piece of my soul back. Like she's reminded me what it's like to feel normal. To be happy."
Sirius tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips.
"Sounds to me like she's done more than that. She's given you something to fight for."
Remus fell silent at that, Sirius's words settling over him like a warm blanket. He looked back at the fire, his thoughts churning, his emotions raw and exposed.
"She has," he said at last, his voice a whisper. "She's made me believe I could... I don't know, live a life worth something. Be more than just a war-weary werewolf waiting for the next tragedy to happen."
"And isn't that enough of a reason to hold on?" Sirius pressed, his voice gentle but firm. "Isn't it enough to know that you've had this, even if it's just for a little while?"
Remus hesitated, his fingers tightening around his glass.
"It should be," he murmured. "But I want more. I want to fight for her, for us. I don't want to let her go without trying to make the most of the time we have."
Sirius smiled faintly, his eyes glinting with approval.
"That's love, Moony. And you're braver than you give yourself credit for. Don't waste the time you have worrying about what might happen. Focus on what you can do now. She deserves that. You deserve that."
Remus didn't answer. The room fell silent for a while. Sirius studied him for a long moment, then shook his head with a knowing smirk.
"You're doing that thing again, aren't you, Moony?"
Remus arched a brow.
"What thing?"
"That noble, self-sacrificing, 'woe is me' bollocks." Sirius frowned. "Let me guess: you let yourself fall for her because, deep down, you thought it wouldn't last. You thought she would eventually go back to her world, knew there was no future, so it felt... safe. A tragedy waiting to happen. You never really let yourself believe in something more, did you?"
Remus sighed, rubbing his fingers over the bridge of his nose.
"At first?" He let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Maybe. It was easier to believe it was fleeting. That it was something I could hold onto for a little while and then... let go." His voice dropped lower, almost as if the admission tasted bitter. "But then she changed everything. She made me want more. Made me dream of something I hadn't dared to in years."
Sirius tilted his head slightly, his expression softer now.
"A future," he said simply.
Remus nodded.
"Yes. A real one. Not just stolen moments in the midst of a war, but something beyond it." He let out a slow breath, as if the weight of it all was settling into place. "She made me believe I could... I don't know, live a life worth something." He stared at the flames for a while, his brow furrowing. "She told me something once," he said softly, his voice tinged with wonder. "She said that in her world, in that... book about our lives, I die in this war. I'm killed in battle, but I die a hero. And because of that, I'm posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. The first werewolf ever to receive the honor. She said my life, my death, helped lift the stigma on werewolves."
Sirius's face fell slightly, his hand tightening around his glass.
"Bloody hell, Remus. She told you that?"
"Yes. And I've thought about it... so much. What it would mean to change how people see werewolves, to give them a better future." He met Sirius's gaze, his voice steady but thick with emotion. "But I don't want to die for it, Padfoot. Not when I've finally found something worth living for. What if I could do it now? What if I could make it my mission to survive this war, live a full life, and fight to change things for my kind?"
Sirius stared at him, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened.
"You don't need to die to become a hero, Moony," he said firmly. "And you're right. You could change things for werewolves. Make the world a better place for them. But you're no use to anyone dead."
A flicker of hope lit in Remus's eyes.
"You really think I could do it?"
"I know you can," Sirius said with conviction. "You've already done so much for the Order, for all of us. And now you've got something more to fight for. Mary wouldn't want you to throw your life away. She'd want you to live it."
Remus nodded slowly, the weight on his chest easing slightly.
"You're right. She's made me believe that I could be happy, that I could have... a somewhat normal life. She's made me believe in myself again."
"And that," Sirius said, "is what love is all about, mate. Now, go back to bed before she comes looking for you and drags you out by the ear."
"But what do I do?" Remus asked, his voice now barely above a whisper. "How do I make the most of our time without constantly fearing the end?"
Sirius leaned back, contemplating for a moment before answering.
"You cherish every second. You make memories that will last a lifetime, no matter how short that time is. And when the time comes... you let yourself grieve. But you also remember that you were lucky enough to experience love in the first place."
Remus looked up, his eyes meeting Sirius's. The warmth and support he saw there eased some of the weight on his heart.
"Thank you, Padfoot. I needed to hear that."
"Anytime," Sirius replied with a small smile. He raised his glass again. "To love, for better or worse."
Remus clinked his glass against Sirius's, a bittersweet smile on his lips.
"To love."
Before they could say anything else, soft footsteps echoed down the hallway. Both men turned their heads toward the doorway, where Maria appeared, her hair slightly tousled and her robe loosely tied over her pajamas. She stood there for a moment, her gaze sweeping the room until it landed on Remus, a visible sense of relief washing over her features. Her eyes, still hazy with sleep, softened as she padded barefoot across the cold wooden floor.
"There you are," she murmured, her voice low and warm as she stopped a few steps away. "I woke up, and you weren't there. I got worried."
Remus sat up a little straighter in his chair, his face immediately softening with guilt and affection. Sirius, however, leaned back in his seat, his smirk widening as he took in the scene.
"Well, if this isn't the sweetest thing I've ever seen," he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head in exaggerated amusement. "The lovebirds can't stand to be apart for more than a few minutes. Adorable, really."
Maria arched an eyebrow at him, folding her arms as her lips curved into a wry smile.
"I see you're in fine form tonight."
"I aim to entertain," Sirius replied, gesturing toward her and Remus as though presenting them to an invisible audience. "But really, Remus, disappearing on the poor woman in the middle of the night? Tsk, tsk. What would I have to do to get a woman to look for me like that?"
Maria rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched with amusement as she countered smoothly:
"Maybe try not being insufferable?"
Sirius let out a bark of laughter, placing a hand over his heart in mock injury.
"Ouch. Straight to the heart, Mary."
Remus shook his head, a blend of exasperation and fondness in his expression as he stood, the chair creaking slightly beneath him. As Maria tilted her head to meet his gaze, he crossed the room and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest. Her body relaxed into him almost instinctively, and she rested her hands on his chest, her fingers curling into the soft fabric of his cardigan.
"Sorry," he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity. "I didn't mean to worry you."
Maria sighed softly, her breath warm against his neck as she leaned her head against his shoulder.
"It's okay. I just... didn't like waking up alone."
Sirius, watching the pair with keen eyes and an ever-growing smirk, couldn't resist interjecting.
"Oh, my heart! It's too much. The romance, the tender moments... it's like a bloody novel." He pressed a hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint.
Remus turned his head slightly, giving him a pointed but somewhat amused look:
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?"
"Not a chance," Sirius shot back, his tone gleeful as he leaned forward in his chair. "This is far too entertaining. A werewolf and his lady love. Honestly, this is the best thing to ever happen in Grimmauld Place."
Maria chuckled, shaking her head before lifting her gaze back to Remus, her expression softening.
"Let's go back to bed," she said gently. "You can brood tomorrow."
Remus's lips twitched into a small smile, and he nodded, the tension that had been etched into his features melting away.
"Good idea."
As they turned toward the door, Sirius couldn't resist tossing one last remark their way, his grin devilish.
"Don't keep him up all night, Mary! The man needs his rest! Werewolves need their beauty sleep too, you know."
Maria glanced over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with laughter as she answered without missing a beat:
"I'll keep that in mind, Sirius."
As they disappeared down the dimly lit corridor, Remus's arm still snugly around Maria's waist, Sirius leaned back in his chair and raised his glass to the empty room.
"Young love," he said to himself, his grin lingering as he sipped his firewhisky, the warmth of the drink matching the glow of amusement in his chest.
Sirius's laughter followed them as they made their way back to the bedroom, the flickering firelight casting a warm glow over his still-grinning face.
As Maria and Remus settled back into the quiet comfort of their shared bed, the warmth of their bodies pressing together, a contemplative silence enveloped them. The weight of unspoken thoughts hung in the air, the reality of their situation settling in once more.
Maria traced lazy circles on Remus's chest, her mind racing.
"Remus," she began softly, her voice laced with hesitation, "have you thought about... what happens when I have to go back?"
Remus's hand stilled on her back, his gaze lifting to the ceiling.
"I think about it all the time," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I try not to, but it's always there, in the back of my mind. The idea of you leaving... it's terrifying."
She propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes searching his face.
"I don't want to leave you. I wish there was a way for us to stay together. Maybe... maybe there's a way we could jump between our worlds."
He turned to look at her, the flicker of hope in her words tempered by the reality they faced.
"Even if we could, it wouldn't be ideal. You have your parents, your life in your world. And I... I'm needed here, especially with the war."
Maria sighed, resting her head against his shoulder.
"The war won't end for another two years. We could wait, but what if I get pulled back before then? What if we don't have that kind of time?"
Remus tightened his arms around her, the thought of losing her wrenching at his heart.
"We'd have to find a way to make it work, somehow. But jumping between worlds... it's risky. And it might not be sustainable."
"Maybe there's magic we haven't discovered yet," Maria suggested, a faint glimmer of hope in her voice. "Something that could let us be together without sacrificing everything else."
He nodded, though his expression was solemn.
"It's possible. But even if there is, it won't be easy. We'd have to be ready for whatever comes our way."
Maria looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with determination.
"I'm willing to fight for this. For us."
Remus gazed at her, his heart swelling with both love and fear.
"So am I. We'll find a way, Mary. Somehow, we'll find a way."
Their lips met in a tender, lingering kiss, a silent promise to each other that they wouldn't give up. Despite the uncertainty, despite the odds, they would hold on to the fragile hope of a future together, no matter how distant or improbable it seemed.