Title: Collision

Author: Kate of Kintail

Fandom: Harry Potter

Rating: PG

Parings: Sirius/Remus

Spoilers: HP3

Disclaimer: Sadly, J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter-verse and its characters. I write this only in fun, I mean no harm, I get no money from this. I go in peace.

Summary: Dreams can only be dreams for so long before they start to haunt you. And when that happens, you have no choice but to act.

Note: This was an attempt at writing a good, one hour fic, There was no time left to edit

Collision

I used to climb out of the window in the dorm room next to ours. It leads out onto a gradually sloping rooftop, right before the tower takes off on its own away from the rest of the castle. I used to go out every night and look up at the moon and the stars. When it was the right time of year, even when it was cloudy I could pick myself out of the sky. There I was, big and bright, looking down at myself and how much I’d changed over the years. At Number 12, my room had one small window. From it I could barely see the sky, let alone the starts. But at Hogwarts it was as though a whole world had opened up to me, starting with the sky.

Some nights James would come out with me. We would talk and laugh or just sit in silence, looking upwards. Sometimes he would smuggle butterbeers out and we would clink our bottles in toast. Toast to freedom. Toast to our futures. Toast to love. To love, yes, that’s what we toasted the most to. To that highly elusive emotion neither of us had ever come close to experiencing but which we both desperately wanted to understand.

Peter, when feeling particularly brave, would climb out, too. Rather plumper than James or I, he usually needed a supporting hand to be sure he would not be wrongfooted and slip down the roof. He would point out a few of the constellations and ask James to make up stories about them. James would oblige, stretching his legs out with a sigh and wrapping his arms around our backs as though to draw us into the plots. The stories were mostly about love and always had the happiest of endings. I liked endings. I liked the decisions to be made and the quests to be accomplished and the characters loves and lives to be final. I liked to think of time stopping with them. Stopping like it did when I was out on that tower.

I used to wonder what was happening on the other side of the tower and in the rest of the school on those nights. It seemed as though I were an outsider, looking in, simply biding my time before I would infiltrate. I admired from afar, picking and choosing with scrutiny but allowing all to admire me as I walked, or rather strutted, down the halls. I think maybe even a few of the teachers took a look or two. I used to wonder how many other people inside the great school were thinking about love at the same moment. I used to wonder if any were, maybe, even thinking of me.

When my eyelids grew heavy and I couldn’t be quite as sure of my balance, I would carefully crawl back inside. I would apologize to those in the dormitory if I woke them, and headed to bed. And there I would let my mind resume its normal thoughts, of pranks and assignments and accomplishments. Lying in bed every night, just before falling asleep, I would never allow myself to think a moment on love. For I feared it might direct my dreams to the subject and I would be forced to actually confront it.

Remus. Remus never came out on the roof with me. He would never even stick his head out the window to shout a message, or talk about the sky at all. In astronomy class he was always silent. Brilliant as James or myself, but dead silent. He knew the dance of the heavens as well as I did though he rarely looked at it unless commanded to in lesson. At first I thought it was only the moon he avoided, feeling anger and fright towards what it did to him every month. But after years I realized it was not just the moon he did not wish to see. It was me.

I was the night. I was the sky. I was that one guiding star shining brightly to him to show him the way. And he wanted none of it. He would lie on his back in the tall grass out by the lake, bathed in sun. He would nap in the glow of a hot afternoon, preferring that free time to sleep and spending part of his night instead making up the work. He would look up at the blue sky and see shapes in the clouds. And he would smile up at the sun’s rays as though they were imparting the answers to his questions and the ways to get to his dreams.

Sometimes James would lie beside him. They would talk and laugh or simply stare up at it all in wonder. And sometimes Peter would flop down beside him as well, panting slightly in the heat. Sometimes they would identify shapes in the clouds, and Peter would beg for stories to be made up about them. Remus and James took turns in this, with stories that sometimes had plots but mostly went nowhere. Nowhere, perhaps, but they went there quickly with great characters and strong ideas. But Remus did not like ending stories. He said that even when a story had been ended, there could always be more to it. Characters did not die when stories were done. Even when their searches were ended, there was always something more to search for. And he refused to deny them future happiness simply because he was tired of them. The sun, after all, rose every day whether they paid attention to it or now. James and Peter did not seem to mind.

I don’t exactly know why I never joined him out in the sun, by the lake. But it always seemed as though I had something much more important to do. In the middle of the day, there was always some girl to chase down or some Slytherin to torture or some broom that needed someone to practice on it. The sun was always too hot, too bright. It would make me close my eyes and think those thoughts I never liked to think of during the day. It would make me look down from the sky, down at myself, down at Remus. I didn’t like that idea.

The moon and sun may both appear overhead to us. But in reality they are billions of miles away from each other. They may appear to chase one another across the sky, rising and setting in a never-ending cycle. But in reality they are so far apart that they have no hope of colliding. Though the struggle seems never-ending, there are those brief moments every so often when, to those on Earth, it appears as though they suddenly understand each other and meet. One takes the other over, sometimes so powerfully that we are unable to watch with our bare eyes. Every so often, their constant struggle stops long enough for something beautiful. They understand that for all they do and for all their chasing, what they really wanted was just a moment to spend with each other. A moment to share what they are with the other. A moment to make their own happy ending.

The same day that I found myself in that very place, however, was the same night Remus finally found his way out onto my bit of roof. I had been coming back from the Quidditch Pitch, circling the castle grounds for some plant I could use in some new potion, or a flower I could reward an unsuspecting admirer with, or some new bump of the ground or slightly misplaced stone that could signal another hidden passage.

But there he was, out alone by the lake, basking in the sun. There was a bandage that ran from his cheek to his chin, a souvenir of his transformation nights ago. Madam Pomfrey had put it on, but James had changed the gauze several times a day before the bleeding stopped. Now it just served to hide the unmistakable mark the full set of claws had made. But this time, Remus seemed neither sleepy nor dreamy as he lay there beneath the sun. Instead, he was on his side, curled halfway, sobbing. And that was something I could not turn my back on.

I went to him at once, taking him in my arms, hugging him tightly as he cried into my chest. His body shook, and I tried to hold him tighter to keep him steady. He clung to me, sniffling and shivering though the sun was so bright and warm. I pulled him so close, hoping that my warmth would become his. In retrospect, all of this I did not so much because it felt right, but because he needed me and because he let me. I did not, however, ask what was wrong. Not a single word passed between us, even when his crying slowed. I wanted desperately to understand what was wrong, for I wanted more than anything for him to be happy. I was certain that whatever it was, I could fix it. I would fix anything if it meant seeing Remus smile again. I wanted to see him lying out beneath the sun with that wide smile on his face as he dreamed of stories with no ends. And I wanted to be the one lying with him, telling those stories to him.

I barely made it onto the roof that night, for the tears blurred my view. But, sitting there in the usual cold and the dark, I had never felt so alone. I had the stars and moon for company, and that freedom that I had always longed for, but what were those things without the one I loved to share them with me? I bent my legs, pulling them to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I buried my head in my knees and shook with sobs.

I cannot remember how long I cried before I felt the hand on my back. It touched me gently to announce its presence, then slid over to my other side as its partner gripped my other shoulder. Warm arms took me in a tight hug, and I turned, hiding my tear-streaked face in his chest. He rocked me, keeping balance for us both as I first let everything out, then struggled to regain composure.

When I looked up at his face, Remus smiled weakly back at me. I don’t remember if it was that smile or the glow in his eyes or a combination of the two or something else entirely, but there was definitely something about him that made me do it. I leaned forward, tilted my head, and pressed my lips hard against his. Just as he had let me comfort him earlier, he let me kiss him then. In fact, his lips parted slightly and kissed me back. It was deep, it was passionate, and it was a little bit awkward for its suddenness and choice of location. And yet, it was my happy ending. I pulled back finally in order to take a proper breath and saw him smiling. “I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time now,” I confessed, looking down from his eyes to my lap. Remus’ hand was slowly inching over to slip his fingers into mine. Warm, loving fingers that squeezed mine in reassurance.

“And I’ve wanted you to,” he replied rather breathlessly. “How could you not have known that?”

I shook my head. I had known it all right, not from the first moment of our meeting, though it felt like just as long. But for such a long time that I’d been terrified to admit I’d felt the same. With his other hand he cupped my chin and guided my lips back to his. He let me lead, as it was my roof, but as my happy ending turned even happier, it was he who pushed us back against the tower into the dark shadows of the roof. I could see nothing but Remus Lupin, and he only me. There was no prying moon and no meddling sun to watch us. And there was no need to look to them any more with hopes and dreams of love. No need to wonder or chase after love when you’ve already found it inside yourself.