Chapter Text
“Marry me,” Sirius says, the second Remus opens his front door.
It’s Sunday morning. The birds are chirping, the neighborhood is quiet, and his best friend is not making sense.
“No,” Remus sighs as he moves to let Sirius in. “But come in, I made eggs.”
“I don’t want breakfast - I want you to marry me,” Sirius complains as they head towards the kitchen. “Actually, I want breakfast, too,” he says, taking a bite of the toasted bread that Remus has just made for himself. “See? We’re already sharing - what’s yours is mine, and all that. Now you just need a wedding ring and a much happier face, if you don’t want to offend your fiancé with your constant rejections.”
It all started with mold, worms and the new werewolves’ legislation, one much more disgusting than Remus’ nefarious place. Calling it a “place” is generous, but so is comparing it to the new laws that the Ministry has just approved to exile every dark creature, except for the ones already married or engaged to magical people.
That is, Remus thinks, only because the Ministry can’t fathom how one of them would ever stoop so low to marry a dark creature - not in times like these. Not after werewolves and giants have been Voldemort’s strongest allies, hence the new government’s easiest beings to target and blame, in order to get popular consent and spread a fake sense of safety in the air.
So, if a werewolf like Remus or a half-giant like Hagrid have also been two of Dumbledore’s strongest allies, well, that’s something that doesn’t really help with the new Minister’s propaganda against dark creatures. No, beasts are all to blame for whatever has gone wrong during the war. And that’s why they need to be distanced from the wizarding world; with the only, rare expectation of the married ones, of course - who, what a coincidence, mostly happen to be ministers or ministers’ spouses who got bitten during the war.
“Sirius, let it go,” Remus sighs.
The moon is almost full and his body is already aching. Worrying about his future seems something too tiring to do now that he doesn’t even have the energy to feel angry anymore. No, he has to rest now; he’ll keep despising the government after the full moon.
“No,” Sirius almost screams, and Remus is almost jealous by the way his friend is so strong and healthy that he can feel all these emotions without them absorbing his last energies. “I’m marrying you, whether you like it or not. I can take care of all the paperworks and preparations - you’ll just have to show up and say ‘I do’.”
“I can’t do this to you.”
They’ve been having this same conversation ever since the new anti-creatures law got announced, not even a week ago. They reacted pretty well to it, all things considered: with Sirius and James throwing tantrums and curses around the Ministry and Dumbledore’s office, which lead them both to lose their Aurors jobs, to then, brainstorm ways to start a revolution as they were finally getting completely drunk at The Three Broomsticks. Not to mention Remus’ countless crises and Sirius’ countless proposals, which lead to even more of Remus’ countless crises.
“We can find a way out,” Sirius insists; his eyes so big and frustrated to look almost spirited. Remus hates that Sirius is losing sleep (and his job) over this. Because of course, Remus, out of all people, knows just how unfair, and utterly fucked, this situation is. He’s known it his whole life, how inhumanly people like him have been treated by the wizarding world. He’s spent years trying to unlearn it himself, reminding himself that he’s still human, even if for only one night a month he’s not. Because, in the end, what is a day a month, when he doesn’t hurt anyone other than himself? Isn’t that pain enough of a sentence for his condition? The least he can do is be gracious to himself through it, especially when most of the world isn’t all that gracious to him, either.
“We already defeated Voldemort,” Sirius continues. “We can defeat this, too. But we need to get married, first. A revolution takes time. And time is the only thing we don’t have now. But with time, and marriage, we can fight this.”
Remus almost smiles at how absurd this is. “I don’t have the energy to start another revolution right now.”
“It’s okay, I have enough energy and anger for the both of us.”
“The rest of the wizarding world doesn’t have it, though,” Remus reminds him. “It’d be what, five or six of us, trying to talk to people who don’t want to listen to us, let alone fight for us. I mean, we just got out of a war - they’re not gonna want to start another one just for this.”
“Now. This is why we need to get married first,” Sirius insists, slapping the table; not a great idea, since one of the table legs is already shorter than the others. “And you need to move out of here before the roof falls down on you. Everytime I come here, there’s more mold than ceiling.”
Remus shrugs, skeptically eyeing the wand in his hands. “Reparation spells don’t work anymore, I already tried. But it doesn’t matter anymore - I have to leave the country, anyway.”
“No, you idiot; you only need to leave this shithole you call home and move in with me.”
“Pads, please,” Remus sighs, pushing his fingertips to his eyelids to vainly contain his pounding headache. “It’s never gonna work - there are too many controls that we’d have to get through. And even if we did, at the end of it, you’d be just as ostracized as I am.”
“I don’t care about that,” Sirius huffs, abrupt and dismissive.
“I do.”
Sirius grins, showing all his teeth. “I like how it sounds. Say it in front of an officer, next time.”
Remus grunts, taking his face in his hands to hide his blushing cheeks. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be? Anyone else to annoy?”
“Nope, just my darling fiancé,” he says, before he tilts his head to study the worry lines that are distorting Remus’ face. “Come on, you need to marry one of us. James and Lily are already taken. Marlene and Dorcas are, too. It’s either me, a stranger or Mary. And I’d be incredibly offended if you picked someone else over me.”
As if, Remus begrudgingly thinks. “Actually, I’m picking ‘disappearing into the woods’, thanks. I know a pack that I could join.”
“So it’s strangers that you’d pick over me,” Sirius gasps in disbelief, hitting the table once again, making it tremble once more. “I’m even more offended, now,” he snorts, before he takes a long breath. “Listen, you think I’m doing this for you, but I’m also doing it for me,” he sighs, his voice getting lower, like it does anytime he gets vulnerable. “I know you’d be fine in the woods, but I wouldn’t be fine without you here. And I’m selfish enough to want to prevent that from happening. I’m not losing you over some messed-up law.”
Remus sighs, and his aching heart skips a beat as it gets warm and thorn over the affection he feels for his best friend. “You’re not losing me.”
“Damn right, you are,” Sirius grins. “In fact, I’m marrying you.”
✧.°｡ﾟ⭒｡⋆ ☾ ⋆｡⭒ﾟ｡°.✧
It takes Sirius one more week to convince Remus to move in with him, even though, by Friday night, he doesn’t need much convincing at all.
During the week, in fact, the mold has taken full control of his little flat, causing his landlord to cut his lease short in order to take care of the disinfestation and all the other repairs that were just begging to be done. And there’s not much of a point in finding another place to rent when you’re broke, unemployed and about to be kicked out of the country, anyway.
He still doesn’t want to marry Sirius. Mostly because he wants to, just not this way.
It’s the same reason why Remus hadn’t moved in with him right after Hogwarts - because he wanted to, just not this way.
He was just fearing moments like the one they’re having now, as they’re eating pizza on the couch, and Remus just wants to lean in and kiss the grease off Sirius’ shiny lips, but knows that he can’t, because it’s not what they are, nor what they’d be, even if they got married.
“Everyone already hates me,” Sirius reminds him, biting his last slice of pizza, as some sauce gets stuck in the corner of his lip, calling Remus’ eyes on it. “I’m a blood traitor for the Purebloods, and ‘still a Black’ for anyone else but you guys. Adding ‘werewolf’s husband’ to my long list of names won’t do much worse to my rep - it’ll just create more scandal and drama. Maybe it’ll throw more shame to my family’s name, too. And you know how much I love causing all these things. So, please, give my dear Mother one more reason to resent me. Do it for me.”
Remus sighs. Truthfully, he’s getting more and more convinced by the day. But this is not something that Sirius has to know, just yet.
“It should be a lifelong thing,” Remus reminds him, because he needs Sirius to know what he’s getting himself into.
“I sure hope so,” he snorts. “Are you already thinking about divorcing me, Moons? You should marry me first.”
Remus rolls his eyes at his cheeky tone. “What happens if you fall in love and want to marry someone else, but you can’t, without having me exiled?”
“I won’t,” Sirius insists, pointedly looking in Remus’ eyes, in a challenge to call his bluff off. “I’d never send you into exile. I spent the entire morning picking flowers and wedding suits - this is how much I’d never send you into exile.”
“I didn’t say yes.”
“But you will,” Sirius shrugs. “Does the 27th sound good to you? Most venues are already booked for the whole month, but your mum said we can use their yard.”
“You called my ma?”
“Had to ask her for your hand in marriage,” he winks. “Both Hope and Lyall said yes. They’re ecstatic about it. Now I only need your ecstatic yes, so that I can confirm the wedding cake - chocolate, of course. Multiple layers.”
“Okay, now you’re just playing dirty,” Remus whines. “You know I can’t say no to that.”
“But you can say no to me?” Sirius gaps, feigning offence. “I’ll need you to put much more effort in your vows, or I’ll have to reconsider that whole exiling-you thing.”
Remus casually hums, eyes lingering on the empty pizza box in his lap.
The time is ticking. In less than a month, any unmarried, registered dark creatures will be either in Azkaban or in the middle of the woods.
There’s a voice in Remus’ conscience that still reminds him that Sirius deserves the chance to get married to someone he’s truthfully in love with - someone that he wants to marry, not someone that he needs to marry, only to protect them.
But this voice of reason is getting dimmer as his fear is getting louder.
He doesn’t fear a life in the woods per se. During his missions for the Order, Remus has encountered a pack whose members he likes and respects. He knows they’d let him join them if he asked. And he knows that he could have a nice life with them - one that he has never dreamed of, but that, with time, he could learn to accept.
But ultimately, he doesn’t want to accept a life. He wants to keep the life he already has, the one that’s filled with people he already knows and loves.
During the war, he fought so hard to come home at the end of every mission, making sure that his loved ones were still there, and so was he. He’s seen things that still keeps him up at night, fought against pains stronger than the ones he’s grown used to. And now that he finally had a short moment of peace, to just be grateful and enjoy what he still had, without the fear of losing it all hovering over him at all times - well, a similar fear still came back to haunt him. And so did the survival instinct inside of him pushing him to keep fighting for what he wants and who he loves.
Because he wants to watch his parents grow older, and little Harry grow taller. He wants to enjoy the quiet evenings spent with a good book on the couch, and the chaotic nights spent with his friends at the pub. And he wants to feel that electric feeling that he gets anytime Sirius is around him, the one feeling that makes him feel alive, and not numb, like he feels most days.
So, “yes,” he mutters.
“Yes, you’ll marry me?” Sirius asks, his eyes shining as the corners of his lips curl up.
Remus tentatively nods, his heart beating faster than his thoughts. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
With a startled laugh, Sirius throws both of their pizza boxes out of the way as he throws himself in Remus’ lap. “You won’t regret it,” Sirius promises, a hand at the nape of Remus' head, as Remus holds him just as tight by the waist. “I’ll be such a good husband,” he jokingly whispers in Remus’ ear, making him wince and pull back.
Yeah, he thinks. He’s definitely not feeling numb, now.