A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. You rock! In this chapter: a little bit of quasi-slash (don't ask, just read). Whoot! Now read and enjoy my lovelies…

A Silly Thing Called Love—Chapter Two

Remus was resolved to deal with this silly love thing quickly and effectively. He was not, after all, untrained in the arts of emotional concealment and deceit.

As a werewolf, he had spent most of his life hiding what he was from others, hiding his true feelings so as to dissuade others from wanting to get close to him. Even as a child he never allowed himself to bond with others, fearful that they would discover his secret and recoil in terror and disgust—or worse, tell someone and have him taken away from his parents.

To love was a risk he had been always unwilling to take. Until Hogwarts. Until Dumbledore had extended his hand. Until three twelve year old boys stumbled upon his secret and proved that, sometimes, love was worth the risk.

Of course, there was love and then there was Love. The kind of love that consumed like an angry wildfire: wholly, and without hesitation or care, spreading until its flames licked at the deepest recesses of heart and soul, until it was beyond quenching and all hope of survival was lost.

Love was a distant cousin of Death. It was a slow torture, deceitful in its bliss, all the while scorching, rending, decimating your heart until all that remained was blind, heedless Love. The kind of love that left you a babbling fool, an emotional imbecile, a helpless slave to your own heart.

Love was pain and tears and loss. It was complete surrender to the will of another, the laying bare of your beating heart, a game of chance where the loser lost everything and the winner lost only their heart.

Why then did people flock to love? Why risk being burned by that wildfire?

Remus smiled sadly. What would life be without love?

For all the pain and grief it caused, Love was so much more. It was awkward silences, nervousness, excitement, hope. It was the frantic beating of your heart, sweaty palms, cold terror. It was comfort and it was home. It was first kisses and last dances. It was…Love.

And it was worth the pain because without love, what would make life worth living for?

All this swooped and swirled inside Remus's head like merry pixies high on caffeine. Love, love love…It was all well and good, to be sure. Remus was hardly against being in love. Quite the contrary actually.

Since boyhood he had dreamed of finding that special someone who would not only know his secret, but would love him in spite of it (perhaps even all the more because of it). Not so much to ask for. Werewolves had paired with non-bitten in the past and enjoyed long, happy lives together.

That was what Remus had always wanted: a long and happy life.

So why, in the name of all that was good and holy, did he have to go and fall in love with Sirius Black?—and yes, he fully intended to lament this cruel twist of fate until he either drove himself mad, or wormed his way out of it. Whichever came first.

Sirius was one of his closest friends, and not once, in more than six years of friendship, had he shown any inclination whatsoever of seeing Remus as anything more than a friend. If he had, Remus would have known—just like he had known when Lily had finally succumbed to James's charms from the way her posture and timbre would shift ever so subtly, and entirely unconsciously, when they spoke, and from the change in her pheromones whenever James was nearby. What? It was a werewolf thing.

The point was that of all people Remus would know if Sirius had a new flame in his life and would be able, eventually, to tell who it was. But Sirius had been as celibate as a priest since the start of term.

Which then begged the question: What the hell was wrong with Sirius Black?

It was utterly unheard of that he would go so long without finding someone to drape on his arm—and there were droves of students more than willing to take the job.

Was there something wrong?

Remus glanced over at Sirius's bed, empty and unmade, and felt a frown tug at his lips. If there was something wrong, why had he not come to Remus? They had always used each other as sounding boards, venting their emotions and seeking solace in each other's company. There was nothing Sirius could say that would ever turn Remus away from him. Remus would never judge him or castigate him.

So. If there was something wrong—and if Sirius was refusing the company of his groupies then something was most definitely wrong—why had he not yet sought Remus out? Had it something to do with Remus? Had he done something wrong?

No, wait. Remus felt his heart drop, his palms go suddenly clammy.

Sirius had picked up on his recent discomfort. It had to be. What other explanation could there be? Sirius must have noticed that he'd begun to put distance between them.

Remus felt sick. Oh, no, he thought miserably. He must think that he's somehow done something wrong.

For all his confident bluster Sirius was extremely sensitive to rejection. It was why he never allowed anyone to get close, never allowed himself to be put in a position to be rejected. His 'relationships' were always quick flings, no-strings-attached, no promises—and he had broken more than a few hearts because of it.

But Sirius's refusal to commit was legendary. Another reason Remus lamented his heart's choice. Even if he were interested, what's the point? What I want from Sirius he can't give me.

Oh, how truly cruel the Fates could be. How—

"Remus?"

Damn.

"Moony? Where—Oh."

Sirius paused in the doorway, his expressions bemused as he took in Remus's ragged demeanor. Unkempt hair, rumpled clothing, pallid complexion, dark circles under at his eyes…

In short, Remus Lupin looked like shit.

"What the hell happened to you?" Sirius asked, laughter in his voice.

A momentary surge of panic flushed Remus's system. Of all the luck…

Why did the gods so enjoy tormenting him? Had he somehow offended them in a past life? Somehow joined their game of godly roulette? If he had, he wanted out. He wasn't sure his heart, or his sanity, could take much more of this. If Sirius continued looking at him like that—

But, no! He was stronger than this. He would not—

"Um, hello? Earth to Remus."

Remus shook himself. "What?"

Sirius laughed, sauntering into the room. "Whatever it is you're on, I want some."

Remus blinked. Had his brain suddenly shut down? "On?"

"Boy, you really are out of it, aren't you?"

"I'm—I'm fine."

And he was, so long as he focused on something other than Sirius's close proximity, sitting as he was on Remus's bed, his right side pressed against Remus's left. It was a completely casual arrangement, the body-to-body contact unavoidable on the twin-sized bed.

Of course, the casualness of it did nothing to ease the frantic pounding of Remus's heart nor the burning of his skin where their bodies touched nor the sudden flush of his cheeks. Easy, he told himself. Sirius isn't threatening you. He's merely concerned. Like a friend.

Friend. Right. Remus released a slow breath, and tasted his heart in his throat. Double damn. "I'm fine."

"Are you?" There was a crinkle of worry in Sirius's brow. "You seem a bit…off."

Remus smiled softly. Before anything else was said…"Look, about earlier when I, you know. It wasn't because of you. You did nothing wrong, okay? It was me. I was," Remus sighed, searching for the word, "addled. The wolf was too near the surface."

There was relief in Sirius's eyes. "I thought I had done something."

"No," Remus said firmly. "And I apologize for making you think so."

"Water under the bridge." Sirius shrugged with apparent nonchalance but Remus saw the underlying tension easing from his mien.

He had been truly worried that he had somehow offended Remus—and damn if that didn't make Remus love him all the more. This may be harder than I thought.

"So. You want to tell me why you're hiding up here?"

"I am not hiding," Remus said, wincing at the petulance in his voice. Was he whining?

"No?" Sirius quirked an amused eyebrow. "Then where have you been all day? I was forced to eat breakfast and lunch by myself, you know? It was terribly lonely."

Remus snorted. "Oh, please. I doubt very much your fan club allowed you to sit alone for very long. I bet you didn't even notice my absence."

Sirius pressed a theatrical hand to his heart. "Ah, my friend, you wound me. Wound me, I say!"

"If only it were a blow to head," Remus replied sweetly.

Sirius chuckled. "Cute, Moony. Now fess up. You're involved in some torrid affair, aren't you? A wee lass from Hufflepuff, perhaps? A rosy-eyed bloke from Ravenclaw?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "So long as it's not a Slytherin, I give my blessing."

Remus tried very hard not to laugh. Sirius had something of a promiscuous imagination. "I was with Lily, actually."

"You don't say? James might not take too kindly to you trying to steal his girl, Moony."

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied dryly.

Sirius grinned devilishly. "And what, may I ask, were you and the fair Miss Evans doing all morning?"

"Well if you must know—"

"And I most certainly must."

"We were studying."

Sirius's expression collapsed into one of such utter disappointment it was comical. "Studying? Oh, how boring, Moony. You could have lied and said the two of you were engrossed in a bit of illicit shagging."

At this, Remus did laugh. "Would it make you feel less abandoned if I lied?"

"Bloody right it would!"

"Alright then. Lily and I actually spent the entire morning shagging wantonly on Madam Pince's desk and all over her books. Better?"

Sirius sighed with dreamy contentment. "You have no idea."

"You are shameless, Sirius Black."

"All the better to debauch you with, dear Moony."

With suddenly clarity Remus realized he was…comfortable. His heart had ceased its frantic beating. Incoherent thoughts no longer bounced about inside his skull like hopped-up pixies. So long as he kept his wolf at bay, Remus could stand to be around Sirius without worrying about what he might do.

There was a constant ache in his chest, of course—a pulsing reminder of the ill-fated love that had taken hold of him—but he was accustomed to such aches. The sorts of aches that came in the wake of all the things Remus had always wanted but was always denied.

He was a werewolf. There would forever be a brick wall separating him from the rest of the world. There would forever be fear in his heart to pursue those things he so desperately wanted: fear of being found out, fear of being reviled, fear of being abandoned and alone.

It was why he never allowed himself to get close to others—with the exception of Peter, James, Sirius, and more recently Lily. How many people in the world would so embrace him, a werewolf, the way they had? Most would run away in horror.

Remus had long ago accepted that many of the doors that would one day open for his friends would remain inexorably locked for him. And that was the root of the threading ache in his chest.

But he could bare that ache, especially if it meant keeping Sirius in his life. A silly thing like love would not take that friendship from him.

Now, on to what was bothering Sirius. Despite his carefree and casual mood, Remus knew there was something digging away at Sirius. If he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own lamenting, he might have noticed it earlier.

Sirius's lack of interest in any of the flocks of students that hovered around him was but one flashing red flag. There was also a subtle tension masked by his otherwise cheery demeanor.

Remus saw it the way his laughter didn't fully meet his eyes and in the tightness around his mouth; the way he avoided serious discussion or made light of it; the way he worried his bottom lip and chewed at his thumbnail (a rather abnormal gesture for a Black in that it ruined their otherwise flawless appearance).

Separately, they were insignificant gestures any number of people expressed at any given time—but put together, and expressed by one Sirius Black, they evolved into some festering worry gnawing away at him. But what was it? Very little ruffled Sirius's feathers let alone unsettled him.

So. What was bothering him?

Only one way to find out, Remus mused.

Shaking himself from his inner musings he shifted, turning to face Sirius—and froze.

Sirius stood at the foot of his bed, digging through his trunk, his button-down open and hanging off his shoulders, exposing a sinful amount of tanned, flawless skin. Oh, sweet mother of God.

Remus swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away, realizing with sudden horror that he was panting like a dog in heat. Which wasn't too far off the mark, he mused.

Stop it, he chided. It's only Sirius. Without a shirt on. Looking oh-so deliciously edible. God. What I wouldn't give to lick every inch of that gorgeous body.

Sirius slammed the trunk shut.

Remus jumped, becoming suddenly very aware of his body's appreciative response to Sirius's half-clothed body. Great. Just what he needed.

What was wrong with him anyway? It wasn't as though he'd never seen Sirius shirtless before. Being roommates for nearly seven years, he'd seen more than just Sirius's chest.

Then again, he hadn't been in love with Sirius at the time.

He hadn't had the sudden desire to tie Sirius to the bed and ravish him until he screamed his name and begged for mercy…

Remus shivered. That wasn't helping.

His wolf was dangerously close to the surface, snarling for dominance.

Closing his eyes, Remus drew in a long, slow, deep breath, willing his wolf into submission. He controlled the wolf. The wolf did not control him.

Right. And McGonagall wasn't shagging Dumbledore.

Ugh. Now there's an image…

"Moony?"

Remus blinked, startled. "What?"

Sirius laughed, pulling a dark-colored tee-shirt over his head. "What is it with you today, huh? It's like you're somewhere else altogether."

"Sorry. I was just—"

"Thinking?" Sirius grinned.

Despite his best effort, Remus felt his wolf stir, felt the flicker of amber in his eyes and the rush of heat in his belly. He looked quickly away from Sirius. "Um, yeah."

Sirius frowned. Something was definitely wrong. "Moony…"

"We should head to class," Remus said suddenly.

"But—"

"You're right, Padfoot. You finish changing. I'll save you a seat."

Sirius stared after Remus, combing long, thin fingers through his hair. Strange, he thought. Very strange.


Lily chewed indecisively on her thumbnail, a crinkle of worry in her brow. What am I doing?

She about to willingly betray Remus's hard-earned confidence. To James, of all people. What was she thinking?

Remus would kill her if he ever found out. Chop her up into little pieces, set her on fire, and feed her to the Giant Squid. He'd never forgive her. He—

Focus, she told herself. It has to be done.

If she was to have any hope of making Sirius realize how perfect Remus was for him, she was going to need help. And who better than Sirius's best friend? Even if said friend was the biggest blabber-mouth in all of Hogwarts.

Honestly. James gossiped like a fifteen year old girl. Lily wouldn't be at all surprised to find him one day with curlers in his hair painting his nails. Well. Maybe a little surprised.

"So," James drawled. "You hauled me into an empty closest to…pace?"

"No," Lily replied. "I hauled you in here because I need your help."

James eyed her skeptically. Lily wanted his help?

They had only been dating for a few months, but James had long ago come to the conclusion that Lily Evans rarely needed anyone's help, especially his. He was, after all, a Marauder, and she was well aware of what his sort of help usually entailed.

"Don't take this the wrong way, love, but…have you been licking toads?"

Lily scowled. "Will you help me or not?"

"What's the problem?"

"If I tell you this," she said in all severity, "you have to swear on our future children that you won't get the way you get."

James scoffed, looking affronted. "And what is that suppose to mean?"

Lily sighed. "James. I love you. I really do. But you're about as subtle as Dumbledore in a pink frock."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Lils."

"Just promise me you'll use some discretion."

"Yeah. Fine. Whatever," he mumbled.

"Okay. Good." Drawing in a deep breath—I can't believe I'm about to do this—Lily said, "Remus is love with Sirius."

James looked at her expectantly. "And?"

Lily frowned. Had she missed something? "What do you mean 'and'?"

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," he shrugged.

Lily stared at him. When had James Potter become so, so astute?

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Have you seen them together? They were practically made for each other."

"Well, yes. But—"

James grinned. "You didn't think I noticed that kind of stuff."

"Because you don't notice that kind of stuff."

"Normally, no. But even I can see the chemistry between those two."

"I never thought I'd see the day when James Potter wasn't utterly oblivious," Lily teased.

James ignored her. "So. You want my help in delivering a massive wake-up blow to Sirius," he said, clearly intrigued. "What'd you have in mind?"

Lily flashed a devilish grin. "Well…"

When she was through, James stared at her with a proud smile on his face. "Why, that's downright diabolical of you Evans."

Lily shrugged, tracing her fingers along James's jaw. "I am dating a Marauder."

"You don't say?"

Wrapping his arms around Lily's waist James pulled her close, placing a soft kiss on her jaw.

"Class doesn't start for another fifteen minutes or so," she said, twirling a lock of dark hair between her fingers.

"Oh? What ever shall we do to pass the time?"

Lily smiled, drawing his mouth to hers.


"…lasted only three days but claimed the lives of sixty-four wizards and nearly a hundred goblins," Professor Binns droned in a painfully monotonous tone. "Like many previous confrontations, the…"

Remus yawned. How was it possible that Binns could make one of the bloodiest and most infamous of goblin rebellions so horribly, unspeakably boring? Students should have been riveted by the blow-by-blow accounts of gore and mayhem, not put to sleep by them.

Remus folded his arms on the desk and laid his head down. James was already asleep beside him. What harm could it do to close his eyes for a few minutes? Just a few…

The air is stifling, hot and sticky against his skin, carrying the faintest whiff of spice. Remus blinks into the semidarkness. Candles burn in holders hung from the plain stone walls, casting gold against the corner shadows. The floor is covered in thick grey carpet, soft under his bare feet.

Remus wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, shaking off his thin tweed coat—beneath which he wears only a flimsy white button-down and tan trousers. He allows himself a moment to wonder at his lack of shoes and odd attire before turning a slow circle.

A large canopied bed dominates the small room, draped in red-silk sheets and plush pillows, the gauzy curtain pulled open and wrapped around the bedposts.

Soft music drifts from some hidden place.

Remus unbuttons his shirt, all but panting in the sticky heat.

A window looks out over a black landscape. He unlatches it.

Cold autumn air curls in around him, banishing the unbearable heat and cooling his skin. The candle flames flicker and dance. The scent of spice grows stronger: forbidden, alluring. Remus breathes deep, blood stirring in his veins.

Footsteps outside the door draw his attention. Anticipation tightens in his belly. His heart thumps against his chest.

The door opens slowly, a soft creak purling against the stone walls. In the wavering semidarkness, Remus catches his breath. How is it possible for one man to be so beautiful?

Sirius wears only black trousers, his bare chest perfectly chiseled and golden in the soft light, his beautiful Adonis face framed by locks of dark hair, fathomless grey eyes burning with passion.

As the door falls shut behind him, Sirius sweeps Remus into his arms and kisses him. Remus inhales the spicy scent of him. Sirius licks at his lips, his tongue hot and slick. His hands tug at Remus's shirt, ripping buttons and fabric, tossing the material aside with a satisfied growl.

Remus shivers.

Sirius's mouth slides across his jaw, his neck, and Remus surrenders to the needy, desperate sounds swelling in his throat.

Sirius pushes, gentle and insistent, and Remus stumbles back towards the bed.

He falls naked onto the silken sheets. His mind wonders fleeting where his trousers have gone, but the feel of Sirius's body pressing against his vanishes all thought.

Warm lips skirt across his chest, his stomach, his thigh, and a hitched breath later—

Remus awoke with a sudden start, James snoring quietly beside him. A ball of parchment teetered on the edge of his book. Remus blinked at it. What…?

Lily coughed softly.

She sat one desk over, head propped up on one arm, eyes focused on the notes she was scribbling. She glanced at Remus, quirked a single eyebrow, and waved her quill in the air.

Remus frowned but dutifully opened the ball of parchment.

:Sleeping in class?:

Smoothing out the crumbled sheet of Notes-Between parchment, glancing behind him to see that Sirius was slumbering peacefully, Remus wrote, :It's getting worse.:

The words glowed softly, then faded into the parchment.

Lily stared at her own parchment and frowned. :Dreams?:

:In a manner of speaking.:

:And what manner is that?:

Remus chewed at his bottom lip and felt his cheeks flush. This would need extremely delicate wording. The last thing he wanted was prim-and-proper Lily Evans making some sort of scene in the middle of class. Like shrilling. Or passing out.

Remus didn't want a repeat of the incident when it finally clicked for her that he was a werewolf. She ended up in the Hospital for three days after cracking her head against the edge of her desk when she swooned and fainted.

So. How to word this with finesse?

:A…libidinous manner.:

Remus watched as Lily's eyes widened, her cheeks coloring faintly. At least she didn't make a scene, he thought dryly.

Lily recovered from her momentary shock with relative quickness. That was certainly not what I expected, she thought, casting a quick glance at Remus.

She was unsure of how to breach such a delicate subject, and even more unsure of how Remus would take it if she simply plowed right in, so to speak.

He was willing to talk about the foundation of and potential cure for this silly love thing that had take up residence in his heart. That wasn't so difficult a thing. But to willingly offer up the intimate details of his sexual fantasies? That might be asking too much.

She needed to tread carefully here. His unconscious mind would surely hold the key to unlocking Remus's unwanted love, and what better way to glimpse the desires of the unconscious than to examine the details of one's dreams?

So. How to reply without scaring Remus away or mortifying him with her blunt curiosity? Hesitantly, of course. Perhaps a dash of uncertainty. And just a hint of embarrassment. Lily smiled inwardly.

:Has this—Was this—Are such dreams…normal for you?:

Remus gave her a sidelong glance, eyes narrowed just so. He wasn't fooled. "Lily" and "hesitancy" were not two words found often in the same sentence.

:I'm a seventeen year old werewolf,: he replied. :What do you think?:

Lily had the decency to shift uncomfortably in her seat. :Right. Silly question.:

So much for stealth, she sighed.

Remus was much too clever sometimes.

So. If he knew her hesitancy was a sham, then there was no harm in diving right in. He did, after all, expect a certain level of professional curiosity from her. Besides which, she had tried for a tactful approach and he called her bluff. What else was a girl to do but turn to a more direct line of questioning?

:This dream,: she wrote. :Describe it.:

Remus flushed an adorable shade of pink. :Describe it?:

Lily tried very hard not let her amusement show through. :Yes. I can't very well help you decipher it unless you tell me the exact details. Shall we start with the setting? Were you outside or in a room somewhere? Was it a place you recognized? Was there any furniture? What kind? Colors? Shapes?:

:A room,: Remus wrote, a bit overwhelmed. :Not one I recognized. There was a window overlooking a beach. It was dark. Grey carpet. Stone walls hung with candles. Canopied bed. Red sheets. There was…music playing.:

:Music? Did you recognize it?:

:Something classical. Italian, I think. Maybe an opera.:

:And you? What were you doing in this dream? What were you wearing? What sensations did you experience? Strange smells?:

:I remember the room smelled like—: Remus flushed that adorable shade of pink again. :Sirius.:

Lily paused, covering her mouth to hide her smile. If that wasn't the most darling thing she had ever heard in her life…:What else?:

:The room was hot. Stifling. I opened the window and that was when Sirius—:

"…is a four page essay on the rebellion of 1546," Professor Binns droned.

James stirred beside Remus, eyes fluttering open drowsily. Around the room, other students did the same. Behind him, Remus heard the telltale groan of a waking Sirius Black.

:We'll talk latter,: he scribbled, crumpling the sheet of parchment and shoving it into his bag.

James blinked at him a couple of times, frowned blankly, then shook his head clear and stretched his arms. "What'd I miss?" he yawned.

Remus tucked his things neatly into his bag. "Goblin rebellion."

"Didn't we already cover that?"

"One of them," Remus replied. "There are about a dozen."

Shoving his things into his bag with all the care of a raging hippogriff, James said, "They all start and end the same way?"

Remus shrugged. "Basically."

"Then who cares?"

"You should care, Potter." Lily pushed through the line of students exiting the classroom to tuck her arm through James's with a smile and a kiss. "Unless you want your grades to fall below mine."

James grinned. "In your dreams, Evans."

Remus rolled his eyes at the sickly-sweet display, pushing away from the desk. Turning, he caught sight of Sirius with his arms stretched above his head, back arched slightly, a look of quiet pleasure on his face.

Oh, sweet lord, he thought watching the deliciously erotic display. He felt his wolf stir and forced himself to look away before he did something very naughty.

Lily gave him a knowing smile, lifting a single manicured eyebrow.

Remus flushed. "I, uh…"

"You okay there, Moony?" Sirius asked. "You look all flustered."

"Fine," he chirped, wincing at the sound.

Lily's smile widened.

Merlin's beard, he sighed. Where's a hole when you need one? "I'm fine, Sirius. Really."

"Uh-huh."

Remus cleared his throat, glancing away from Sirius's doubtful look.

He needed space. Right now. His wolf was clawing for the surface and Sirius's heady scent was doing nothing to help. Damn him and his delicious pheromones. How was Remus supposed to overcome this silly love thing when Sirius smelled so damn good?

"I think I'm going to head to the library," he said, ignoring Lily's blatant grin.

Or maybe Timbuktu. I hear its nice there this time of year…

TBC

A/N: A bit shorter than the first one, yes. Fear not. The next one should be longer. And I know, I know. You're dying to know what Lily has up her sleeve. Well…I'm not telling. You'll just have to wait and see. Oh, and how much did we love Remus and his naughty thoughts, hm? (-: Anyway. Please review. Let me know what you think.