IMAGINE DRACO AND HARRY GOING TO THIS SUPER IMPORTANT MINISTRY GATHERING, ALL DRESSED UP, IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE WIZARDING COMMUNITY. THEN, HARRY GETS HELLA DRUNK AND STARTS GRINDING ON POOR STARSTRUCK DRACO AND IT TURNS INTO HOW YUURI AND VIKTOR MET FROM YURI! ON ICE. JUST PICTURE IT. DRACO JUST FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE SINNAMON ROLL ALL OVER AGAIN
I need fanfics and fanarts and fancasts and fan-everything for Astoria Greengrass Malfoy, because she was the best damn part of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and we never even got to see her in it.
Give me this kind-hearted, equality-loving Slytherin woman who defied the Malfoy family and saw the good in Draco when very few could. Who raised her son to be a sweet bean amidst terrible rumors and her own frail health.
Astoria is so loved by the other characters that it’s ironic she wasn’t loved at all by the author who created her. Please spend time on this wonderful human being and give her all the love she deserves, thanks.
The one where Sirius is in the marines and Remus can’t go with him and doesn’t know how to be without him.
(quick side note please read for triggers: So, some of you I think have caught on to the fact that Remus has an anxiety disorder in this fic. Just to warn people, I don’t know if this qualifies as triggering or not because it really isn’t super bad or anything but Remus does have a little more of a described panic attack than ever previously written. Just letting you know!)
(Another side note: This is (and I’m sure about it this time) the last chapter… can’t really believe it. This was my first full fic and I just… thank you to everyone who read it, commented on it, sent me messages about it because, and I think I speak for all authors, it means the WORLD when people do that. It definitely means the world to me. So, thank you so much and I love you guys and I hope you enjoy!)
Remus wakes slowly. For the first time in a long time, nothing brings him out of his slumber. There is no sudden jolt out of a terrifying dream, one that leaves him gasping and shaking, only to find himself in a even more terrifying reality. There is no being caught in a seemingly constant half-asleep state and having his eyes forced open by a sudden horrible thought. Instead he wakes slowly. But even that in itself is terrifying for a moment or two. Because for a second, he doesn’t remember yesterday’s events. For a second, his chest defaults back into its heavy state, his heart returns to it’s place in his throat. His body curls in on itself, desperate to return to blissfully ignorant sleep.
But then reality kicks in. And for the first time in a long time, it’s welcomed.
Remus stretches out, trying to get his muscles to unclench. He can’t help the small smile that forms on his face, his eyes opening slowly, as his toes hit other cold toes, his palms reaching and pressing to a warm chest.
Sirius is still asleep. He’s asleep right beside Remus and he’s breathing softly and suddenly Remus can’t breathe.
His heart feels like it’s pressing tightly against the back of his ribcage, unsure what to do with the sudden close proximity of the thing it had been reaching out for for so long. Like it had tried to grow in an effort to not be so desperate for Sirius and now his chest was wound so tight, Remus felt like he’d burst. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling.
He reached out, tracing his fingers through Sirius’ dark hair lightly. He didn’t want to wake him, but he needed the contact.
Sirius had been only slightly off last night. Not for too long, but the moment they got in the car, Remus could tell how uncertain he was, how exhausted. Sirius blamed it on the time zones, his medicine, the flight. But Remus had found Bones’ eyes in the review mirror and he knew.
He might be different.
So Remus didn’t push. He kept him close, practically crying every time Sirius brought their entwined fingers up to press a kiss to Remus’ hand, every time Sirius laughed at the way he blinked the tears away. But he didn’t push.
He didn’t push when they entered the flat either and a blank expression took over Sirius’ face. No matter how much it scared him, how much it made him want to break down, he would not be the one that needed to be held together this time. He couldn’t be.
Bones had shook Sirius’ hand, hugged Remus (who made him promise he’d come over for dinner sometime) and left them at the door. It had gotten very quiet then.
“D’you want some tea, Pads?”
Sirius didn’t answer, he just looked around their living room like he’d never seen it before.
His head turned towards Remus then, eyebrows raised, “Hm? Sorry, what?”
Remus bit his lip before trying for a smile. He could see Sirius’ scars catching the light. He could see the purple under his eyes.
He’s fine. You’re fine.
“Do you want some tea?”
“Oh.” Sirius furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before nodding, “God. Yes. Yeah, I do. That-“ He let out a little laugh, “Sort of forgot that existed for a second. Tea.”
Remus leaned onto his toes, pressing a kiss to Sirius’ cheek. He slid Sirius’ pack off his shoulders, freezing for a second when Sirius flinched.
“No, s’okay. Just sore.” He took one look at Remus’ face and slid it from his back the rest of the way on his own, letting it fall to the floor. He pressed a palm to Remus’ neck, his thumb tilting his chin up. Remus’ eyes were desperately trying to cover up the small amount of panic threatening to surface.
“Hey.” Sirius pressed a warm palm to Remus’ back, “I’m okay-“
“No, I know.” Remus blinked a few times, palm smoothing down the collar of Sirius’ uniform, “I know.” His eyes followed his fingers for a moment, tracing over the rough name patch, bumping over the embroidered BLACK there. Then he looked up, a soft but slightly strained smile covering his face, “I know you are… I’m- I’m going to get you that tea. Cinnamon, yeah?”
Sirius bit his lip, studying Remus, but decided not to press the subject. He knew Remus was trying to be strong. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to be, that he wanted to take care of Remus again just as much as Remus thought he had to take care of Sirius… but he didn’t press, he let the moment pass.
“Could- Could you make it like you always do? With the honey and the- y’know the little biscuits?” Sirius smiled sheepishly.
Sirius could see that this, although it made a wide grin cross Remus’ face, also make fresh tears spring to his eyes.
Remus sniffed, letting out a watery laugh and pressed a quick burst of kisses to Sirius’ lips, “Fuck, sorry.” He shook his head, bringing the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe his eyes, “Of course I can.”
Sirius just shook his head smiling, pressing another soft kiss to Remus’ lips, “‘m gonna change, yeah?”
Remus nodded, sniffing and mumbling something about how all of Sirius’ socks were clean and his pajamas were on the bed. And suddenly Sirius felt a bit like crying too. Because that was so… Remus. So home.
Remus was true to his word.
Sirius pushed their bedroom door open slowly. Five o’clock light flooded through the window making everything look soft and… almost unreal. It certainly felt unreal. Sirius felt a lump rise in his throat. He walked forward, his boots too heavy and hard looking against the soft white rug. He ran his fingertips over their quilted bedspread, over the carefully folded t-shirt and pajama pants sitting at the end of the bed. It was hard to imagine that, just this morning, he had been gingerly pulling the last of his bandages off of his body. That he had even been in a hospital, in a different country, just this morning… and that now, now he was here. He was home and Remus was just in the other room making tea. There is a war going on and he’d almost died in it and now he was about to put his pajamas on. He was about to have tea and biscuits. It all seemed like a distant memory, like it might’ve not happened at all, and still it felt as if it was right in the front of his mind, pressing against his scull.
Sirius let out a breath, unaware he’d even been holding it at all, and started carefully undoing the buttons of his jacket. The thick canvas made a dull thud against the floor, followed by his trousers. He had to admit, he felt a bit stupid, running his hands over his old pajamas, his bedspread, once more before slipping the plaid pants on. But he couldn’t help it. It all felt new and old at the same time, like he hadn’t been there in years when, in reality, it had been only a few months… a few months that had stretched themselves into a lifetime. He tried to ignore the way the cloth pants hung a little looser on his hips. He was just reaching for his t-shirt when there was a shattering sound from behind him. Sirius whipped around, his hands unknowingly reaching for his hip where a gun had been placed more often than not.
But what he saw as he turned was not an enemy. There was no guns or men looking to harm him. There were no grenades or shouting or friends and comrades he had to cover for. There was no war going on behind him. Instead, there was Remus. Remus with his eyes flashing through so many different stages of pain and sadness that they looked like melting gold through the tears suddenly welling there. Remus with trembling hands. Remus with a a smashed cup and saucer at his feet, three biscuits melting in the still steaming tea puddle on the floor.
“I-“ Remus stared down at the shattered mess at his feet and then trailed his eyes back up to Sirius.
And, as Sirius watched Remus’ eyes dart frantically around his body, he understood.
“Re… Remus, c’mere.” But even as he said it, Sirius was the one to walk forward, guiding Remus around the fractured ceramic and into his arms, pressing him tightly to his warm skin. He held his lips to the top of Remus’ head and he felt Remus shutter in his arms, felt his breathing escalating against his neck.
“Remus, it’s okay.” Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple, “It’s okay, Moons, I promise-“
“No. No-“ Remus pulled back a little, eyes trained on the small, round scars that littered Sirius’ body now: his shoulder, his chest, his side. Sirius saw Remus’ fingers trembling as he reached out, brushing his fingertips across one on his shoulder, the way Sirius had the bedspread moments before.
“I can’t-” Remus tried to breathe deeply but his heart was beating so hard he felt as though he could feel the shape of it in his chest, “It isn’t. It isn’t. Pads, someone- someone did this to you-“ But Remus cut himself off, his head falling forward against Sirius’ shoulder.
He was mad at himself. Remus had promised himself he wouldn’t fall apart. In the kitchen, going through the familiar process of making tea, he had been fine. He had been more than fine, he had been smiling. To himself. He’d felt like his face would split with all the sudden use. Sirius was in the other room, and he was making tea for him, and he would bring it to him. Maybe they’d lay in bed together, maybe watch a movie or talk. They could do anything because they had more than 45 minutes. They had more than a Sunday now, they had a lifetime.
And when Remus had walked into the bedroom he had been smiling then too. Because, for a while there, he didn’t think he’d ever see the sight of Sirius waiting for him again. Pulling on his sweatpants and waiting for him. But then his eyes had fallen on the small, slightly raised circular scars on his back. He hadn’t expected them. He should have. Of course he would have the scars. Of course there would be remnants of what had happened to him. No matter how much Remus wanted to forget, it had happened. Sirius had been shot. Sirius had almost died.
And then Sirius had turned around, and Remus saw that the scars were on his front too, mirroring their counter-parts on his back. And Remus slipped. The tea slipped.
Remus felt Sirius’ cheek pressed to his temple, his arms looping around him and his hands spanning his back.
Remus wanted to kick himself because you’re the one who should be holding Sirius right now. Jesus fucking Christ he was in a war. You were at home. You have to be able to handle this. He’s home there’s nothing to cry about-
“They’re scars, Re.”
Sirius voice was soft, made even softer somehow by the warmth of the room.
Remus blinked and tears fell away from his eyes. He watched them fall against Sirius’ chest. He turned his head, pressing his cheek to the warm skin, his ear to the steady heartbeat. His hooded eyes blinked slowly as he stared at the small crescent just below Sirius’ collarbone, in the valley between it and his bicep muscle. It was so small. It seemed too small to have been able to cause both of them so much pain.
Remus’ voice barely came out, “I know.”
Sirius’ fingers trailed over the length of Remus’ spin, “They mean I made it.”
Remus sucked in a breath. He leaned back, looking up at Sirius. He looked so calm.
Sirius offered him a small, slightly sad smile, “Right? I made it, didn’t I?” He brushed a hand through Remus’ hair, eyes flickering over his face, “Like I promised?”
Remus stood there motionless for a beat, then nodded his head. He reached up, thumb brushing over the little scar below Sirius’ lip, “Like you promised.”
He replaces the touch with his lips. He felt Sirius press into him as he practically gathered Remus against his chest, like he was holding him together. And really, if Remus thinks about it, he is. Sirius kisses him hard and slow, and Remus’ hands smooth down over his his cheeks, resting on his neck. He grips Sirius’ shoulders, tilting his chin up to press their mouths together harder, only to, once again, freeze when Sirius lets out a small noise and winces.
Sirius rolls his shoulder a little but can’t help but laugh at Remus’ face, eyes crinkling, “Re, it’s okay. It’s alright, you were just… getting into it.”
Remus feels heat rise to his cheeks and Sirius just laughs again and ducks down, pressing another long kiss to Remus’ lips, “You’re cute.” He grins into the kiss, “Forgot how cute you are.”
Remus just rolls his eyes and blocks Sirius from kissing him again by, somewhat dramatically, turning his head to the side. This only causes Sirius’ kiss to land on his jaw, which leads Sirius’ to pepper kisses all down Remus’ neck, then trail them across his cheeks and nose. He comes to rest with their foreheads pressed together, and they’re both grinning. There’s no small hints of sadness to it this time, they’re just smiling at each other.
“Jesus.” Sirius breathes after a few moments.
“Hm?” Remus questions, looping his arms around Sirius’ neck once more- carefully.
Sirius just kind of shakes his head a little, jostling Remus while he’s at it, and let’s out a sigh, “Nothing, just… Just don’t know how I got on with just a picture of you, s’all. Just phone calls.”
Remus nods, “Yeah, why don’t we write letters?”
Sirius’ grin melts into a smirk, “Because you’d keep every single one and just weep over them.”
Remus gasps, eyes widening, but he was already laughing to hard to pull off any form of mock-anger. He hit Sirius softly in the chest in a vain attempt to prove his point, “Fucking tosser.”
Sirius’ smirk melts into a soft smile as he captures the hand Remus had hit him with and holds it against his chest, “Yes, but your tosser.”
And then Remus is melting a little bit too. He might just join the puddle of tea and biscuits on the floor if Sirius keeps looking at him like that.
He bites his lip, the smiling still breaking through, and laces his fingers through the soft hair curling at the back of Sirius’ neck, “Yeah. I suppose so.”
Remus can’t help but just stand there looking for a moment, just taking it all in. He didn’t expect it to feel this normal so quickly. He didn’t know what to expect to be honest, but here they are. And he knows that it won’t all be like this. Sirius is still healing, he’s just begun to heal - Remus has seen this, in the car, and when Sirius walked in to their apartment - but he will heal. And he’s right here, beautiful and laughing and cracking jokes and kissing him. And so fucking alive that Remus imagines he can feel the energy, the relief, rolling of of him.
“What?” Sirius bumps his nose against Remus’, “You’re staring.”
Remus blinks a few times, “What? Oh. Nothing.” But a grin is breaking the surface again and he shakes his head, a soft, relieved laugh escaping, “Nothing just- Here, we’ll-“ He turns, looking at the mess by the door and tiptoeing carefully around it, “We’ll clean that up later, and I’ll make some tea while you put on a shirt. Actually-“
Sirius’ heart stutters as Remus peaks back around the doorframe, eyes more brilliant than any picture Sirius could ever take. He feels weak for all the right reasons.
Remus smirks, “Scratch the shirt part.”
And Sirius laughs and obeys, quickly following Remus into the hallway and capturing him in his arms again before he even makes it to the kettle.