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You Used to be Darling


James asked Carly Shaw to the Yule Ball the very next morning at breakfast, with a big production and of course she said yes. So had begun the next wave of James Potter’s Sixth Year Dating Saga as Sirius had come to call it, and the pair were seen snogging about the castle all over the place and had become a near permanent fixture in the chair in the corner, where James would sit with Carly straddling his lap, snogging half the evening away in the common room.

“It’s like they have no decency,” Lily hissed to Remus one night in the common room, at the big table with the firsties, doing homework.

Remus looked over at them in the corner and then back to Lily, “Why does this bother you so much, Lily?”

“Because. Look at it. Ugh, they’re being so distasteful about it.”

It’s true. They really were. James was running his hands over Carly Shaw’s bottom as they kissed. It was as though he didn’t give a damn who saw what he was doing and she had her pink sweater encased torso smashed against his chest and she would pant, “Let’s go somewhere more private!” and he would make a production of informing Sirius they were going to the Trophy Room Passageway and pulling Carly out the portrait hole.

Lily stared at the portrait hole as it closed behind them. “I hope her breasts are the size and texture of shrivel figs.”

Remus choked on the pumpkin juice he’d been about to sip.

To Carly, it was a mystery why, once they were alone, James seemed less into it than he had in the common room. “I think he has a voyeuristic fetish,” she whispered to Annalee one morning when they were talking about it. “He’s always so much more… interested… when we’re in the common room, running his hands over me and snogging with a lot more… gusto. Once we get alone, it’s never the same. Like he just puts his hands on my hips, like he doesn’t dare to do much else, and he never wants to go very far.”

“That’s so weird!” Annalee said. “Maybe James just needs a woman who’ll… you know… take control of the ship, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Maybe,” Carly answered, and they had whispered conversations about it.

Meanwhile, Sirius made a point to say that he was taking Lily Evans to the Yule Ball at least once a day. He would greet her with a smile and put his arm about her shoulders when she joined them outside of classes and say, “And here’s my little Christmas Kitten!” and press wet kisses onto her cheek and Remus would squint at them with a funny expression, as though trying to figure out just what the hell Sirius was up to, and Sirius would then turn to Remus and whisper, “I fucking love you, don’t get jealous, you know I love you more than breathing air.” And Remus would shake his head with confusion.

James found these moments intensely annoying and he’d sigh and lean against the door frame for the class, back-to Sirius and Lily as they planned their outfits for the Ball.

“Why the hell isn’t he taking you to the Ball?” James demanded of Remus one evening when Lily and Sirius were giggling in the corner about the dress Lily was working on fixing up to be her gown.

“I hate dancing and the Yule Ball is jinxed for me. It’s safer if I stay away from it,” Remus replied.

“So why doesn’t he stay here with you?”

“Because he likes dancing,” Remus replied.

“Aren’t you jealous over it? The way he’s treating Evans? I mean - gods. The way he keeps… kissing her face… and… and hugging on her…” James made a face.

Remus raised an eyebrow, “You sound rather jealous.”

“I’m jealous for you,” James explained.

Remus said, “Or jealous of him.”

“I’m over Evans,” James said, shaking his head, “I’m with Carly now.” He stared at Sirius and Lily for a long moment then, “It’s just annoying. I mean why is he always calling her kitten and darling? Like what the hell even is he doing?”

“Maybe you’re jealous of Evans,” Peter suggested, “After all, you used to be darling.”

“Only on every other Tuesday and Bank Holidays,” James murmured.

Remus smirked down into the textbook he was reading.




James went to Hogsmeade with Carly that weekend.

So Lily went with Sirius and Remus and Peter to the Three Broomsticks. She bought them each a butterbeer and got into a discussion with Remus about the subject of the history of St. Nicholas and Christmas stockings while Sirius yawned and asked Peter what his Christmas plans were.

“I think I’ll stay at the castle this year,” Peter said, staring at the plate of chips he had ordered before him. He dipped a couple in ketchup and chewed them quietly.

Sirius detected a sort of melancholy about his fat little mate and he watched Peter for a moment, then asked, “Why? Doesn’t your mum want you home for the holiday? What about all the food you always brag on about at Christmas?”

Peter stared at the chips, “Mum says she’s not going to do a big to-do of Christmas this year. She’s thinking on going to my grandmother’s.” He paused. “Dad’s going on a business trip. Leaves this week. I think it was to Romania to inspect the dragon academy there or something of that sort… Christmas isn’t the same since Maggie…” he paused. Then, “Dunno, just think perhaps it’ll be more cheerful staying at the school this year. I’ve never pulled crackers with Dumbledore like the rest of you have and I reckon it sounds pretty fantastic.”

Sirius didn’t know what to say.

Peter looked up, “You’re going with James and Remus back to the Lupins to be with the Potters aren’t you?”

“Yeah, probably,” Sirius answered.

Sirius bought an extra large Honeydukes bar to give to Peter for Christmas while they were at the candy shoppe that afternoon, and three packs of Sugar Mice as well. He’d never felt bad for the little Rat before but something about the way Peter’s eyes had moistened when he spoke about his broken little family had broken Sirius’s heart and for the first time, he sort of saw Peter Pettigrew differently.

“He’s been so quiet about it, but I reckon he’s actually rather heartbroken,” Sirius said in a low tone to Remus later that night as they sat together in the Trophy Room Passageway, having secured it as theirs before James could drag Carly down there. They were snuggled up together on the couch beneath a blanket, just talking in the afterglow of other activities, and Sirius was had his cheek and palm pressed against Remus’s chest, stroking his fingers along the lines of the scars that striped him. “I feel really bad for him.”

Remus sighed. “Yeah.” He ran his palm over Sirius’s shoulder.

Sirius breathed in Remus’s scent. “I know what it’s like not having a family. I mean, I remember it very well. And it hurts like hell.”

Remus nodded, “I know.”

“You’ve got Newt Scamander, when he’s about, and Tina and Ned Veigler. You have them the same as I have the Potters. Who’s Pete got?” Sirius asked, and his voice cracked a bit.

“His mum loves him still, it’s just really hard getting over the loss of a child,” Remus replied. “They say it’s common for marriages to fall apart in the wake of it. I reckon that’s what’s happened to the Pettigrews.”

“Yeah,” Sirius murmured.

Remus sighed, his fingers tracing the John Lennon lyrics wrapping about Sirius’s bicep. “Nobody should have to go through the pain of losing something so precious as a child.”

They were silent for a long moment as Remus’s fingertip ran over the word imagine over and over.

“Do you reckon you want children one day?” Sirius asked quietly.

Remus pictured the sound of little voices calling daddy and meaning him and he pictured tiny fingers and toes. He pictured the giggle of little girls and the way kids love to show off their skills and their little smiles when you praised them…. Really, he was thinking of the times he’d baby sat Nymphadora Tonks and how sweet she was and how he’d love to have a child that was like her that was his very own. He pictured a tiny human that needed him, that was a part of him, and his heart yearned for the feeling of a little hand wrapping about his fingers to hold on. Remus said, “I do.” He paused. “Do you?”

Sirius hesitated. He pictured all the drool and the crying and screaming and the mess - the toys he could step on and the the stink of the diapers that would need changing. “Dunno. I suppose I’d like my own more than I like other people’s, you reckon?”

“Yeah,” Remus said. “Probably.”

“Then I suppose I could deal with having some.”

Remus was quiet.

“Remus?” Sirius asked into the dark.

“Yes?”

“I just want to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy, Sirius. Very happy.”

Sirius said, “You’re sure?”

“Very sure, Sirius.”

“Alright.”

And Remus fell asleep holding Sirius extra close because he wanted to be sure that Sirius knew how happy he felt when he was close to him like this.