two and twenty folds

#1 Valentine's day headcanon

They were just silly notes. Literally inanimate pieces of parchment with the stupidest thing written down on it, but still. And Remus knew. He sits on his bed and stares at the parchment, a mischievous and kind of fond smile playing on his dry lips, and he knows.

Frankly speaking, everybody knows. There was an absurd and silent accord that none of them would ever verbally bring the subject on, though. It was quite ridiculous but Remus enjoyed the silence. Honestly he prefered the peaceful, comfy silence of Sirius’ clean handwriting on that stupid piece of paper and it was more than sufficient, because he knew.

But when exactly the notes had started? Remus wouldn’t know. Neither why. Actually, if he thought about it, a one-word note could be barely considered a note.

“You.”

Sirius had been sticking the notes all over the place. Hanging it on the bathroom’s mirror. Inside Remus’ folded socks. Between his History of Magic book’s pages. It was even roughly written down on his potion’s desk, forever recorded on the ancient wood. Just literally everywhere.

Thinking properly, it had begun at some point after that little talk, if that could be called a talk at all. It was a game between them. A “get to know me better” game, like Sirius liked to call it. Started on first year. “You should know everything about me, if you mean to be my best friend,” an eleven year old Sirius told him on the occasion.

From that day on, they could be literally doing anything - doing homework when Remus suddenly urged to know Sirius’ favorite color, having breakfast when Sirius demanded to know Remus’ favorite word or tying their ties when Remus thought which would be Sirius’ favorite dessert. After seven years, you could imagine the amount of knowledge they had collected about each other. 

The questions were getting deeper and deeper due to the precocious maturity the war claimed from them. Until that day.

“The most important thing to you in the whole world?”, Remus demanded him quietly, they both staring at the orange sundown, sitting down together by the lake after two hours of profound, perfect silence. Sirius lately needed longer time to answer certain kind of questions. Remus always had the patience to wait. Always. The sun had already completely disappeared on the horizon when Sirius finally answered, very quietly and without avert his grey eyes from the tiny, distant line separating sky from water.

“You.”  Sirius didn’t receive Remus’ answer back that night as often used to happen. He wasn’t bothered anyway. He already knew the answer. Everybody knew.

Then the notes began. Out of nowhere and Remus knew. Everybody has knowing for years now. Remus folded carefully the twenty and two notes and slipped them beneath his pillow. Sirius walked in the half-empty dormitory a second after.

He was holding a note.

His eyes wide and at the same time full of some kind of mutual insight. He knows. He threw his note onto Remus pillow and leaned forward. The silence wasn’t broke until they finally, deservedly kissed.

“Us”, Remus one month late answer was written on that piece of parchment he had earlier slipped into Sirius’ pocket that morning. The answer for his own question. His whole world more important thing.