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Rating:
Mature
Archive Warnings:
No Archive Warnings Apply, Major Character
Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:
M/M
Fandom:
Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling

Relationships:
Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Remus
Lupin, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter

Characters:
Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, James Potter, Lily Evans
Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Severus Snape, Minerva
McGonagall, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Narcissa
Black Malfoy, Albus Dumbledore, Mulciber Sr. (Harry
Potter), Horace Slughorn, Mary Macdonald,
Marlene McKinnon, Poppy Pomfrey, Walburga Black,
Regulus Black, Fenrir Greyback
Additional Tags:
Marauders' Era, Marauders, Marauders Friendship,
wolfstar, Get Together, Slow Burn, so slow, it's
slow, seriously, Complete, Canon Compliant,
Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Requited Love,
Canonical Character Death, First War with Voldemort,
First Kiss, Period Typical Attitudes

Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of All the Young Dudes ● Next Work →
Stats:
Published: 2017-03-02 Completed: 2018-11-12
Words: 526969 Chapters: 188/188 Comments:
26695 Kudos: 121083 Bookmarks: 24645 Hits:
8193359

All the Young Dudes

MsKingBean89

Chapter 117: Summer 1977: Part 4

Summary:
CW for themes of homophobia in
this chapter.

The rest of the week in Cornwall passed in complete

bliss, as far as Remus and Sirius were concerned.
They spent long hot days on the beach and hillsides,
wandering through quaint little villages, exploring
caves and getting tipsy in pub gardens. They dined
exclusively on pasties, fish and chips and ice cream,
and at night - oh, the nights were best of all.

During the day, if the others were around, they would

toss a ball back and forth across the sand, or Remus
would consent to paddle in the sea a little - jeans
rolled up and long sleeved shirt still firmly on. If it
was just the two of them, then he might roll the
sleeves up to his elbows, exposing old scars, and
Sirius would become Padfoot and chase sticks or his
own tail. And they often got to be alone, because
everyone else seemed to want to keep sneaking off.

Lily and James were the worst - when they weren’t

bickering they were snogging; gratuitously, and at
length.

“You’re supposed to be prefects!” Mary yelled at

them, after the third night, finding them practically
horizontal in front of the campfire.

“Oh, as if I haven’t caught you a hundred times on

my rounds!” Lily laughed, getting up and
straightening her clothes nonetheless. “ And you ,
Black, so you can stop leering.”

“What?” Sirius blinked, innocently.

He was carrying back the bowl of washing up from

the shower block. Remus had been pretty amazed by
that - Sirius had volunteered to do the dishes every
night so far (“I quite like doing it, the muggle way,”
he had confided, secretively, “Mother used to make us
do the house elf’s work as a punishment sometimes,
but I just found it relaxing, to be honest.”)

“Don’t draw me into your sordid escapades,” Sirius

was saying, prudishly, setting down the tub. “I’ve
been a perfect gentleman all holiday.”

“I’m not convinced you haven’t been sneaking off

with some muggle girl in the village.” Marlene said.
She was lying stretched out on a towel in her
underwear, sunbathing. Her body was very long and
very pale.

“How dare you,” Sirius flicked her with the damp tea
towel, making her yelp and crease up, “I’ve been
tucked up in bed early every night, haven’t I,
Moony?”

Remus choked on the crackers he’d been nibbling on,

and had to be slapped on the back by James a few
times before he recovered. You’ll pay for that later,
Black, he glared at Sirius, eyes watering.

Once James had calmed down about the ‘Lily Evans

Event’ (as Sirius was calling it, behind his back)
enough to think straight, he’d been surprised that
Sirius and Remus were now sharing a tent, and
suspicious, for all the wrong reasons.

“You’re not going to start fighting again, you two? You

know you only wind each other up in close
proximity...”

“Right you are, Prong,” Sirius said, brightly, “You bunk

in with Moony and I’ll share with Evans.”

That put an end to that line of questioning, but not to

James’s sudden overprotectiveness of Remus. It was
nice - certainly nothing to whinge about - but a bit
uncomfortable. Remus had never had any kind of big
brother figure - unless you counted Ste or Craig, who
had taught him to steal and drink and throw a proper
punch - but James now seemed determined to do his
clumsy, kind-hearted best. Midway through the week,
Remus was a little surprised that no one had so much
as mentioned the confession he had made on the first
night. Not that he wanted anyone to make a fuss, or
say anything sly or backhanded, but… still . Nothing
at all? He brought it up with Sirius in a quiet moment,
and he’d laughed,

“Well if Prongs gave everyone else that bloody speech

I’m not surprised.”

“Speech?”

“Yeah he pulled me aside and told me if I started

treating you any differently he’d thump me. Probably
didn’t say that to the girls - maybe Lily did them.”
Sirius stretched out, doggishly, lying on his front.

They were lounging on the beach, alone, on a quiet

stretch of sand which so far no one else had
discovered. Sirius was in his swimming trunks and
Remus was taking the opportunity to stare at him as
much as he liked, and as brazenly as he liked. Every
now and then he gathered a handful of silky yellow
sand and poured it over Sirius’s skin, just to watch
the grains slide like water over the muscles of his
back.

“You’re having me on.” Remus said, lazily, not

believing Sirius.

“Wish I was. I swear, it was so hard not to laugh in

his face and just tell him everything.” He rolled over,
brushing the sand away carelessly, “I’m going to have
to go and wash off in a minute, if you keep doing
that.”

“That’s the idea,” Remus smirked. Sirius in the sea

was his new favourite thing to look at.

Remus still didn’t really believe him, until the very

last day of the holiday. They were all trying to pack
up the tents - which didn’t seem to want to fit back
into the bags they’d arrived in - and Remus had
ended up taking over, because Peter, Sirius and
James didn’t seem to understand the concept of
instructions. The girls had deconstructed their own
camp in less than an hour, and it was getting a bit
shameful.

“Right, that peg needs to come out first, and there’s a

sort of top sheet we need to remove, otherwise
everything gets tangled up…” Remus said, scratching
his head. James and Sirius did this successfully and
began folding up the brown canvas.

“What would we do without you, Moony,” James

chuckled.

“Yeah,” Peter said from the ground, where he was

collecting pegs, “Who’d have thought you’d be good
at all this stuff.”

“Well, I have always been the sensible one,” Remus

murmured, not really paying it any mind, skimming
the next few steps in the leaflet. Then he realised it
had gone quiet, and James was standing over Peter.

“What do you mean, ‘this stuff’?”

Peter looked up, confused, and rubbed his hands

together,

“Y’know, outdoorsy stuff - blokey stuff. I didn’t mean-

-”

“Pete. A word.” James said, his voice weirdly hard and

flat; channeling Euphemia Potter in a stern mood. He
marched off, towards the beach, Peter following
nervously behind, still wringing his hands.

“Blokey stuff.” Sirius muttered, though he looked

anxious and pale too.

“What was that all about?!” Remus asked, going over

to pick up the pegs Peter had put down.

Sirius shook his head, and didn’t speak again until

Peter and James returned, Peter looking very shaken.
Remus wished he could have said something, but he
felt like he might only make the problem worse.

When it came time to say goodbye, nobody wanted to

leave. Remus found himself staring glumly down at
the four yellow squares of grass where their tents had
been, while James and Lily clung to each other,
saying their goodbyes.

“You going back to Essex, Remus?” Mary asked,

cheerfully.

“Staying with the Potters for a bit.” Remus replied,

trying to perk up.

“Lucky!” Mary said, “I’ve got to go back to Croydon -

Marlene invited me to stay, but Mum says she doesn’t
see enough of me as it is.”

“That’s nice,” Remus smiled, “It’s nice to be missed.”

Peter and Dorcas left first, heading up to the main

road to find a secluded spot to hail the Knight Bus.
Remus waved them off, and everything seemed fine,
but that might just have been James’s presence. The
girls apparated - once Lily finally let go of James,
promising to visit before the summer was over,
promising to write, making James promise to
telephone. She hugged Remus, and then - perhaps
just in a moment of blind happiness, Sirius too.

James, Remus and Sirius apparated back to the

Potter’s with somewhat more success than the first
time. Remus ended up in the back garden, somehow,
Sirius somewhere in the village, but Mrs Potter was
thrilled to see them all the same, and decided they all
needed some proper food , at once.

“Should we get in touch with the home for you,

Remus?” Mr Potter asked, casually over dinner,
“You’re not pulling another vanishing act, are you?
Can’t have the muggle police called again.”

“Oh - er, no, I… um…” Remus stammered over his

boiled potatoes - what could he say, to stop them
asking? What would buy a bit more time? Sirius
kicked him underneath the table, and gave him a
look. Go on, Moony , it said; tell the truth. Remus
looked at Mr Potter, “Actually, now I’m seventeen,
there isn’t a place for me at St Edmund’s.”

“Oh good,” Mrs Potter smiled benignly, “We’ve got you

all summer then, wonderful!”

As easy as that.

“I told you,” Sirius whispered, as he slid into Remus’s

bed, after midnight. “The Potters love taking in
strays.”

“Should you be here?” Remus whispered back,

anxiously, “What about James?”

“Snoring his head off, I could hear him through the

wall.”

Remus didn’t press it further - after all, he wanted

Sirius there. It felt funny, lying alone in a big double
bed after a week spent squished up in a tent. Having
another body close by was comforting. Having Sirius’s
body close by was even better.

“Well done for telling them.” Sirius said, quietly,

holding Remus’s hand under the covers. He did that
often, and only in bed, in the dark. Remus didn’t
mind.

“Yeah, I’m just telling everyone everything, this

week,” Remus laughed.

“Nothing wrong with asking for help, Moony. People

like helping their friends.”

“I know.” Remus kissed the top of Sirius's head - one

of the many privileges now permitted to him. Sirius
liked to sleep hidden under the covers, like a
hibernating creature. It made him seem smaller than
he was, and made Remus feel protective. Another
thing that was ok to feel, now. “Sirius?”

“Mm?”

“That thing Wormtail said, did it really upset you?”

He felt Sirius tense against him, and instantly wished

he hadn’t brought it up. He tried to cover his tracks,
“Just... you know Pete, he’s a bit of an idiot
sometimes, but he’s just thick, not spiteful. He’ll get
used to it. Get used to me. Next time he needs his
homework done, it won’t matter.”

“I’ve heard stuff like that before, that’s all.” Sirius

said, very low, so that Remus, who usually had
perfect hearing - better than perfect - had to listen
closely. “About being a man. You know the sort of
thing.”

“From your mother?”

Sirius didn’t speak, but his head moved slightly and

Remus took it for a nod.

We aren’t talking about mothers. Remus had to

remind himself. He just squeezed Sirius’s hand, and
said the only thing he could think of.

“Well then, you know it was all bollocks.”

***

Saturday 30th July 1977

James Potter was not as clever as Remus had given

him credit for. They had been back from Cornwall for
a fortnight. James had telephoned Lily from the
phonebox at the end of the road exactly fourteen
times. And exactly fourteen times, Remus had had to
accompany James to the phonebox, put the coins in
the slot, dial the number for him, and show him how
to hang up, at the end.

The phonecalls lasted about an hour, usually, leaving

Sirius and Remus to sit outside on the brick wall,
smoking. Occasionally they walked up and down the
high street, but mostly they just waited for James to
finish.

“Bloody idiot.” Remus sighed, as he exited the booth

the fourteenth time. “How hard is it to remember a
few simple steps? He did muggle studies, don’t they
explain this stuff?”

“Aww, he gets too excited to remember anything.”

Sirius laughed, “Have some sympathy for the lovesick
fool.”

“No. I will be joyless and miserable forever.” Remus

grumbled, fumbling with his cigarette lighter.

“Oh good, I love it when you’re all dark and moody.”

“Fuck off.”

“Mm, oooh yeah, now call me a stupid prat, that

really gets me going…” Sirius teased, cigarette
between his teeth, embers glowing in his eyes.
Remus shoved him so that he stumbled off the wall,
laughing.

“You are being a stupid prat.”

“Only for you.” Sirius stubbed out his cigarette. There

was a low, dark rumbling in the far distance, and
Sirius’s whole face lit up. He grabbed Remus’s arm,
“Look! here it comes, right on time!”

Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius had another reason to

indulge James. Every evening, while they waited for
the lovebirds to finish their phone call, a miraculous
thing happened - in Sirius’s eyes, anyway. A
motorbike drove through the village - probably some
aging hippie on his way home from his boring
commuter job, Remus thought, petulantly.

It was a Triumph Bonneville T120 (Remus hated that

he knew this, but after they’d seen it the first time
Sirius had dragged them to the newsagent’s to buy
every motorcyclist magazine he could find, until they
had identified the model), with a cherry red tank,
every inch of chrome polished to a gleaming silver.
Sirius was madly in love, Remus was madly jealous.

Once the bike had passed, Sirius gave a sigh of

satisfaction, then climbed back onto the wall, and
watched Remus for a while. He did that a lot, now.
Remus had to learn not to mind too much; being
scrutinised. Sirius cocked his head, “Is it the moon?
Making you grumpy?”

“Probably.” Remus shrugged. “Usually makes me

restless.”

“Yeah, I noticed, last night.” Sirius winked.

“Oh my god, shut up, obnoxious prick.”

Sirius grinned and poked out his sharp pink tongue.

Remus was nervous about the moon. It would be his

first full moon not spent at either Hogwarts or St
Edmund’s. (Though presumably there had been
another full moon, once, long ago, with his mother.)
Mr Potter had taken him aside, after it was agreed
Remus would be staying for the rest of the summer,
and explained their plan of action.

Not that it mattered much to Remus; a locked room

was a locked room. This time it was the attic, and
Moody had offered to stand guard outside, ensuring
that the family would be safe. Mr and Mrs Potter (not
to mention James and Sirius) had repeatedly
reassured Remus that they weren’t concerned in the
slightest, and that he oughtn’t to worry either. But of
course he did, anyway.

Sirius wanted to go in with him - so did James, but

James at least had enough common sense to realise
it wouldn’t be possible. No one was going to get
anything past Moody - who had a new, creepy eye,
electric blue and horribly enchanted.

“Tackled werewolves before,” he said, gruffly, as

Remus was led up the ladder to the attic, “Always got
a good result, minimal casualties.”

This did not make Remus feel better, but he wasn’t

sure if it was supposed to.

It was a bad night. Maybe it was Moody’s presence.

Maybe the wolf didn’t like heights. Maybe it could
smell its usual playmates, Prongs and Padfoot, and
felt lonely. Maybe the wolf just hated Remus, who
knew. Either way, when he woke he found he’d ripped
the room apart; torn at the blinds and scratched the
floorboards. In the end, the wolf had chewed its own
paws out of frustration.

Hands bleeding, the skin all grazed away, Remus lay

in the dark, his heart pounding, waiting for the pain
to subside, or for someone to come and help him;
whichever came first.

Mrs Potter patched him up, and did a good job, but he
still struggled to hold his wand for a few days, while
the skin grew back. He couldn’t hold a broomhandle,
either, so had to just watch while Peter, Sirius and
James practiced, like old times.

Remus found other ways to occupy himself. He’d got

hold of a copy of the telephone book and spent more
time than was probably healthy looking up every
‘Jenkins’ in Bristol. There were lots of them, but no
Hopes. Hopeless . It didn’t matter, he tried to tell
himself. He’d got on all right for twelve years without
her.

“Tell me a secret,” Sirius would whisper, late at night -

every night, he came to Remus, “Tell me something
no one knows.”

And Remus would tell him - because it made Sirius

happy, and that was a very worthwhile pursuit - in
fact, Remus was realising, making Sirius happy might
be the only thing worth doing, for the rest of his life.

“I’m the one who told Philomena Pettigrew to go to

America.”

“You never!”

“Yep, in the bathroom on Christmas eve.”

“Sly bastard. How’d you get girls falling all over each
other to talk to you, eh? what’s your secret?”

“Maybe they trust me because they know I’m not

trying to get off with them.”

“An intriguing thought. Tell me another secret.”

“Um… I don’t know, I’ve told you everything.”

Everything that wouldn’t hurt you, he added, silently.

“You haven’t,” Sirius said, his lips now against

Remus’s, as he crawled on top of him, hands sliding
up under Remus’s night shirt. He flicked his tongue
along Remus’s bottom lip, “I’m going to know
everything about you, one day, I promise.”

Remus kissed him deeply, believing every word.

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