Title: France in Springtime
Author: Kait
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Sirius/Remus
Summary: I tried to write a fic about France and holding hands >_<
Notes: Slight spoilers for OotP


i. wishes

"I wish it were fall." He looks at you then and cocks his head to the side, just a bit. His hair falls into his eyes as that little quirk of a grin crosses his face. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you don't know if you want to kiss him or hold him or just watch him for the rest of forever. Your throat gets thick for a moment of complete contentment during which you swear you can feel a tug in your heart literally pulling you in his direction. From the small intake of breath and the look on his face you think he might have felt it too.

"You know you shouldn't wish your life away, Moony," he says to you, grinning. "Next fall we'll be on our own. This will all be over." He gestures into the air around you. You stiffen, but smile as he steps closer to clarify. "No... this..." He gestures between you. "This will never be over."

"Promise?" you say. You hate that you sound like a child but he makes you feel safe, makes you feel as if you can take your guard down and leave it that way.

"Promise," he replies firmly. You share a grin and slip a hand to the nape of his neck, pulling him towards you.

You kiss until you hear the final train whistle and then rush to get a compartment before it leaves.


ii. smells

"So why do you wish it was fall?" You're sitting in your compartment, just the two of you. Peter's mother is visiting family in Hogsmeade for the holiday so he didn't need to take the train. James left yesterday with Lily. You look at him briefly and then out the window into the spring sunshine.

"The smell," you murmur. He doesn't reply, silently willing you to go on. You comply. "The smell of fall is just... intoxicating. Spicy. Sweet. It smells like crisp leaves and hay and hearth fires and... musk. The air is the perfect temperature. The day is the perfect length. There's just something... electric about it. It's my favourite time of year."

He's silent for a long time, and after a moment you get up from your seat by the window and move across to sit next to him. He puts his arms around you, still quiet, and you sit like that for a long time.


iii. france

He's never been to France before and you think, distantly, that he thinks it's another planet as opposed to a country just across the channel from where you will be living together in just a few months. He was amazed, six years ago, when you started muttering exasperatedly in French when you couldn't understand the potions homework. James had rolled his eyes, telling his friend that any idiot could tell that "Lupin" is French, but Sirius merely quirked a small smile and ignored James, asking you, instead, if you grew up there. No...not entirely, you had replied. You had moved as a child, five or six, to England.

The first time he kissed you the French had slipped out involuntarily. It still does when he catches you off guard. You think he rather likes it and thusly have never tried to hold it back.

When your parents pick you up from the train it's just a few minutes before you're stepping into a small wizarding travel shop and paying a few sickles to use the public fireplace.

Floo powder always makes your nose itch and once you step out into your aunt's parlor Sirius can't help but laugh at the squeaky little sneezes that escape your throat. You swat him and murmur something that sounds like "incorrigible", but the smile won't stay off of your face. Your parents share a look as they dust off their robes and you can't help but blush. They are happy for you. He sees the look too and frowns a little, but then reaches over and brushes your hair from your eyes. You know he is thinking of his own family, the one who kicked him out before they even had a chance to hear about and condemn your relationship. You smile at him and your aunt and uncle walk in and the room is nearly shining with the smiles that are glowing on everyone's face.

You have no way of knowing that this will be one of the last three times that you will be in a room full of people thinking nothing but positive thoughts. But even if you did know this, it wouldn't matter, because when you introduce Sirius to your family in perfectly accented French he is accepted in a way you never would have imagined and you wouldn't trade that moment of happiness for anything else in the world.


iv. twilight

You're walking together in the gardens. All you can see is trees and nature in every direction you look and Sirius is marveling at it. He walks a few paces a head of you and slows down until you catch up. This cycle repeats until finally you grab his hand and pull him back to you.

You don't let him go, even when you're finally walking side by side.

You love this time with him. It's something you don't get enough of at school, not with Peter and James around all the time. It's gotten easier since James and Lily have become involved, but you hate to leave Peter alone, even if it makes Sirius scowl to have the other boy playing tag-a-long every where you go together. Normally a soft kiss on the nose or forehead and a firm assertion that he'll get lines if he keeps his face like that will relax him a little more, but sometimes, when you're all three working on an assignment together you can feel the resentment coming from both of them in deep waves and you are stuck drowning in the middle.

But you don't want to think about that now. Instead you think about the fact that you're holding his hand out in public and no one knows or cares. You're so cautious in public. School is easy - it's harder to keep a secret at Hogwarts than it is to tackle a ghost (and you should know - you think you're the only one who's successfully done it as long as the school's been standing) and to your fellow students the relationship is old news. But muggles can react violently to people like you and it always makes you stiffen in public, like they can tell just by looking at you, much in the way you wince every time a wizard says silver or moon or werewolf, like you think they secretly know and taunt you with their knowledge.

He stops walking after a moment and it's your turn to cock your head to the side and give him the quirking grin.

"Moony...I just... I can tell that this is where you come from. This is where you belong." He turns and takes your hands. "This place... it even sort of looks like you. All golden and quiet and just waking up. And it's calm and peaceful and serene but I can tell there's something more carnal underneath." You smile as he pulls you close for a hug. You don't know if he intends for you to hear the last part or not, but you do. "And I bet it looks beautiful in the moonlight."

You kiss him as the sun sets and the two of you collapse onto the ground, breathing in the deep earth scent as well as the scents of each other.


v. promise

You are amazed how accepting your aunt and uncle are of Sirius, just as you were amazed at how accepting they were of your condition. They grieved for the brother whom no one ever speaks of anymore, but they were the only relatives who did not condemn you. They are the only relatives left now, and with no children of their own you feel like they live vicariously through your parents.

The holiday goes by too quickly, filled with days of lazing about in the gardens or completing homework on the porch of traveling into the village together to window shop and people watch. Well, you watch other people. He watches you. He loves to watch you haggle over the price of fruit or ask about the availability of certain books. He loves watching you interact with the denizens of the village, loves hearing how easily you slip into fluent French. You've started to teach him the basics of the language and he's added on to the short vocabulary he started the trip with, but the language is clumsy for him still, his soft scottish-english lilt making the words fall out of his mouth at awkward angles. He gets frustrated, but your reassurance makes him let it go and your kisses make him forget what he was so worked up about in the first place.

Tomorrow you leave for London where you will take the train back to school. You are sitting in the garden together for the last time. The sun is low in the sky as you lean your head onto Sirius' chest. He is sitting against a tree, running his fingers through your hair as you munch on a chocolate Easter egg despite the fact that dinner is in a few hours.

"I can't wait to get back," he says softly. You glance up and he continues. "But at the same time, I never want to leave. I mean... everything here is... it's just... I have you and this wonderful place that reminds me of you. And it's like there's nothing wrong in the world and everything is quaint and warm and full of light." He buries his face in your hair. Your stomach goes weak as you are overcome with emotions you can't put into words. You swallow the lump it leaves in your throat and push your face into his chest, chocolate forgotten.

"I know," you whisper. You don't want to think about the dark that's slowly slipping over the world, about the missing places at the house tables, about the stiff and silent letters that appear every morning, "I'm sorry to inform you that your brother-mother-sister-uncle-cousin has disappeared", the tension in their group and the fear of what lies beyond graduation. You want to stay in this perfect moment with your perfect Sirius for the rest of time, even though you know it will be impossible.

Plus you have your own, selfish reasons for not wanting to go back. Sirius will be James' again, like he always is when those two are together. You'll have to spend each night in the dormitory with the two other boys, left to fumble with pillows and silencing charms when you make love, unable to be as free as you are here where you have an entire wing of the house to themselves and a bed you can both fit into without feeling awkward.

You sigh into his chest, letting his scent fill your lungs.

"I'll miss this," you whispered, your arms tightening around him. He hugs you back, his lips grazing over your forehead.

"I know," he whispers. "I know. I will too. But we'll be together soon. Just you and me. No Prongs and Lily and Wormtail around all of the time." You blush because he's reading your thoughts and you hate that he can do that sometimes. You pull yourself up, the two of you rolling around slightly until you settle into a more comfortable position, you sitting on his lap, facing him, your legs wrapped around his midsection.

"I love them, Sirius. I do. They're like brothers, and Lily is becoming one of us faster than I thought possible. But... I don't like sharing you. And not just with them, with everyone. Sirius Black is the prankster, the bad boy, the quidditch star... someone who belongs to the entire school." You smile feeling foolish, the blush still colouring your face. He kisses you. Once. Twice. Three times.

"I don't care about that, any of that rubbish." Your noses bump and again you find that feeling wash over you, that moment of contentment that makes your heart tug towards him. Again you look up and see that he's feeling the same thing. "It's only you, Moony. Only you."

You kiss for a long time, kisses filled with promises and hope and something to hold onto. You've never been so happy in your life and find yourself close to tears. You'll never be quite that happy again, and if you knew that now you might let them fall.

Years later, when he's stuck in Azkaban and you're curled up alone, you will remember that night and you will cry, but for an entirely different reason. Years after that, the two of you will lay curled in the heat of the Black family fire place. Different relatives, different circumstances, and a different holiday. There will be mistletoe and as you kiss again and again, the rest of the house long since turned in for the night, you will remember that night again. You will feel the tug in your chest and he will feel a tug in his and you will look at each other, knowing, innately, that the other is thinking the same thing, remembering the same night. You will both cry then and make love and hold each other until the morning comes and there are no more tears left to cry.

.end.