Originally posted: 13 September 2008
Summary: "If I were to fancy one of you guys, would that count as incest?"
Word Count: 1 010
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters; I'm just playing around a bit.
Author's Note: This fic was written in response for the September Challenge over at hh_sugarquill, though I'm not quite sure if it fits the criteria (I hope it does!). Also, I want to thank Patricia for giving it a speedy beta.
This fic came to me in the strangest of ways; I was in the shower when the dialogue suddenly popped up in my head, and I wrote it down in a hurry. Later, I wrote it down as a proper story, and I barely changed the dialogue at all. That has never happened to me before. Huh, I wonder what prompted it. *g*
And without further ado, please enjoy the fic!
The October wind was chilly; on the roof of Gryffindor Tower it was positively freezing. They didn't know why they were up there, not even Sirius, who had been the one to suggest it on a typical Siriusesque, random whim. James had already left, declaring that 'he was freezing his bollocks off'. Peter had left not long after; Remus and Sirius had heard him talking to himself about butterbeer and warm beds.
"If I were to fancy one of you guys, would that count as incest?" Sirius asked as he thoughtfully tapped the ash of his cigarette. The leather jacket didn't offer much warmth and his fingers were stiff with cold.
"That's a good question, Padfoot. But no, I don't think so. You have to be related by blood for it to count as incest. Of course, society will still look upon it as incest if you're having it on with your adopted sister or step-brother, but seeing neither of us are related by law, I think we're in the clear," Remus replied. He gazed at his unlit cigarette in his left hand and nibbled on his thumbnail, talking around it.
"It'd still be weird though, right? I mean, you are after all my real family," Sirius said. He glanced enviously at Remus. Remus had put on his scarf and an extra cardigan and didn't seem to be freezing all that much.
"Only you would think of incest and semi-incest as just 'weird'," Remus said and abandoned his thumbnail in favour of his cigarette. He reached for his wand that stuck out from his back-pocket, lit it, and then put the wand back. "But I don't think it would be weird. Just... tricky, perhaps."
Sirius shrugged and he too went back to his cigarette. There was already a small mountain of cigarette butts behind them. He and Remus were the only Marauders who smoked; James refused to even touch a cigarette after he had overheard Lily rant about what a disgusting habit it was, and Peter had mumbled something about health risks and enraged mothers. Sirius had actually started because he knew his mother would have been enraged. Remus, with his oral fixation, was hooked the moment Sirius lent him a cigarette for the first time.
"So who is it?" Remus asked after a few minutes.
"Whom of us is it that you fancy?" Remus clarified. He looked at his fidgeting feet as he spoke. The tennis shoes were thin and didn't keep warmth all that well; he'd lost feeling in his toes.
"Who do you think it is?" Sirius asked after a beat.
"Well, for your sake I hope it isn't Peter, because then you'd have to fight butterbeer for his affections every day of your lives together. And have James and Lily to come over for dinner at least five times a week," Remus said, sounding unconcerned. "And if you were to fancy James, that would also end in heartbreak. The best you could hope for is to be his mistress-- uh, mister? Well, bit on the side on the weekends Lily is out of town."
"And if it were you?" Sirius asked when Remus paused. He found himself leaning forward, towards Remus.
"I'd say your mother dropped you one too many times as a child and that you are high at the moment," Remus replied immediately. He huddled up and hugged his knees, tucking his chin further down beneath his scarf.
"I don't know if plain Muggle cigarettes count as drugs."
"You are the one who got them; they can contain anything," Remus said matter-of-factly, and Sirius couldn't argue with that. Nevertheless, Remus put out his now finished cigarette and reached for a new one.
There was another pause when they sat in silence, save for the sound of their breathing. It was past midnight and the rest of the students were sound asleep. Even the Forbidden Forrest was quiet.
"Do you fancy one of us?" Sirius asked as he watched the exhaled smoke trail upwards to then disperse in the air.
"You are speaking out of turn, Mister Padfoot. I believe you still haven't answered my question," Remus said breezily.
"I'm stealing your niche and avoid answering it," Sirius said and laid down on his back, resting his head on his folded left arm. He looked up at Remus. "Well, do you?"
Remus looked back at him and then rested his chin on his knees, taking a deep drag of his cigarette. "I don't fancy any of the Gryffindor girls."
"That's not an answer."
"It is an answer. Just maybe not to your question."
Sirius huffed and then turned his gaze skywards, watching the constellations. Remus did the same, and pointedly avoided looking at the half-full moon that hung heavily in the sky. For several minutes none of them spoke.
"You really aren't going to tell, are you?" Sirius asked eventually, not taking his eyes off the sky as he disposed of the cigarette and lit a new one.
Remus shook his head. "Not until you do," he said evenly and put out his cigarette.
Sirius worried his lower lip for a moment, watched as Remus took out a new cigarette from the pack, and he sat up. Remus turned his head and looked at him, an eyebrow raised. Two seconds passed when time was standing still. Then Sirius leant forward so the ends of their cigarettes met, lightening Remus' with the ember.
Remus watched Sirius watching him. Their faces were close and Remus could swear that he saw the night sky reflect in Sirius' eyes.
Seconds passed and neither looked away.
Then Remus smiled around the cigarette; a wide, honest, almost glowing smile that he didn't show all that often. Sirius grinned back, and now there was no doubt his eyes were twinkling.
They sat for another couple of hours like that, side by side on the roof, sharing cigarettes and talking idly. If their hands lay beside each other and their fingers intertwined, there was no one there to see it.