Archive of Our Own

Summer 1966

Remus first heard about pureblood curses when he was six. He’d been to the muggle library with his mother and had been annoyed by how boring the books were. No moving pictures or anything inside! He’d asked the librarian for a “magical” book while his mum was busy in the romance section, and he’d been directed to a thick, purple anthology of fairytales with a shiny cover.

His mother had been delighted to read it to him, choosing one of her favorites to read first: Sleeping Beauty. Remus was enraptured—his mother was an expressive storyteller—and he hadn’t noticed his father had come into the room until he heard him chuckle at the ending.

“Wow. The muggles and the stories they come up with,” Dad laughed, dropping down on the bed to wrap an arm around Remus’s mother.

“What’s wrong with it?” Mum asked, indignant.

“They made it so dramatic! But the real curse is much simpler.”

“Real curse?” Remus asked, sitting up eagerly. Remus was interested because he was cursed. Other people being cursed made him feel a little less strange.

“All those muggle fairytales are based on pureblood family curses. I believe the sleeping curse belongs to the Blacks,” Dad said with a grimace at the name. “Nasty family, all of them.”

Mum was still intrigued. “But it is real.”

“So what if they fall asleep when they get a papercut. They wake up a few hours later,” Dad added with a mocking tone Remus didn’t quite understand yet. “It’s only dangerous if they’re dueling or something,” Dad finished, unconcerned.

Remus agreed, it didn’t sound too bad. Especially after what the princess in the story had suffered. Sleeping for a hundred years? A few hours didn’t sound too bad.

“Is it like my curse?” Remus asked timidly. He knew sometimes bringing up the subject upset his parents, but he wanted to know.

Dad frowned and glanced at Mum before answering, “Yours is much worse, but yes, it’s…similar. Rumor has it the Weasley family first contracted lycanthropy, but it’s not inherited like the other curses. It’s become too common for the posh pureblood types. That’s why you can’t tell people you’re a werewolf.”

“Too common?” Remus asked, confused. “So how many werewolves are there?” Maybe there were a lot of other people like him, just keeping it a secret.

“Not that kind of common, love,” Mum corrected. But she didn’t explain what kind of common they meant.

Dad went on to explain the other pureblood family curses, and they did sound just as fantastical as what he would later read in the muggle fairytale book: people turning into frogs, turning into pumpkins, or losing their voice.

“Have you ever met any of those people?” Mum asked. “The ones with the curses?”

“Not every family member inherits it, and some of them try to keep it secret, but I did know one of the Longbottoms—couldn’t sleep a wink unless they had a shrivelfig under their bed.”

“A shrivelfig?” Remus asked.

That spawned an unwanted herbology lesson, and the stories about curses and fairytales ended. Remus didn’t think much of it again until he found himself sharing a dorm at Hogwarts with a Potter and a Black.

#

September 1971

As Remus unpacked for his first night at Hogwarts, he was torn between utter elation and unbearable worry. Dumbledore had promised to help keep his secret, but there had been too many times Remus’s family had been forced to move after a nosy neighbor grew suspicious of his behavior. It felt inevitable that his secret would be discovered and his chance at being a normal boy would end.

Remus did his very best to act like a normal boy, but he really had no idea how a normal boy acted. His new roommates, James, Sirius, and Peter, were so different from Remus. James and Sirius were both boisterous and confident, while Peter seemed ready to agree to everything they said—maybe in hopes of getting them to like him better. Remus briefly considered the same tactic, but he decided he would remain quiet and observe a bit longer. His dad had told him to only make friends with kind, trustworthy people—just to be safe.

Remus wasn’t paying much attention when he heard James ask, “So, are you cursed?”

Remus panicked for only a second before he saw James was speaking to Sirius who was painstakingly charming a green sweater to Gryffindor red.

“Why? Are you?” Sirius asked, quirking a dark brow.

“You are, aren’t you?” James asked. He was grinning madly.

“I bet you are, too!” Sirius countered, giving up on the sweater that now looked tie-dyed in red and green. “It almost always gets the first born. And you’re an only child, Potter.”

“I was just asking,” James said. “We have to look out for each other. At least that’s what my parents told me. I think they’re worried I’m going to be eaten by an owl.”

Remus’s eyes widened, and Peter choked. “Eaten?”

James gave Peter a calculating look before his gaze turned to Remus. “You half-bloods are lucky. Pureblood curses can’t be passed down to them.”

“Definitely lucky,” Sirius said. “Though, I’d rather my curse than yours, Potter.”

James turned, hands on his hips. “At least I’m conscious!”

But Sirius decided to argue his point with a demonstration. He leapt at James and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

With a quiet pop, James disappeared and in his place was a small, common frog. It was just like the little ones Remus found in the garden back home. It hopped over to James’s bed, though it didn’t have enough height to make it onto the bed.

“Black, you better watch it,” the frog said, his voice exactly like James’s. Remus held back a laugh.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” Sirius said, giggling into his hand.

“All I need is a sharp quill, and it will be lights out for you!” James warned, holding up a webbed foot in what was probably meant to be a threatening gesture, but only looked like he was losing his balance.

“Aww, he thinks he’s scary,” Sirius said. “I think he needs a little hat or something. What do you think, boys?”

Remus and Peter shrugged, neither one sure whose side to take in this strange pureblood spectacle.

“How long will you be a frog?” Remus asked instead.

“About an hour,” James said sourly.

“Only an hour? That’s not too bad,” Sirius said. “Mine lasts longer than that.”

“Well, mine is a lot easier to bring about! How often are you cutting yourself, sleepyhead?” James said.

“Well, I was a child who took lots of naps,” Sirius said, oddly proud.

Now it sounded like a competition. Remus imagined adding to the conversation. “Oh yes, mine’s pretty bad, too. Every full moon I transform into a bloodthirsty monster and try to tear myself apart. Splendid having these terrible curses, am I right?”

He was pretty sure he’d win the competition for worst curse. Even if it was “common.”

“Ugh, can someone put me on the bed?” James asked, after many failed jumps at getting on his bed.

Peter walked over warily. “Are you going to give me warts or something if I touch you?”

“I’m not actually a frog,” James said, pompously. “And that’s a myth!”

Peter held out his hands in a cup and James hopped up unceremoniously. Peter giggled nervously. “This is so weird!”

“Just don’t drop me!” James griped. But Peter gently put him on the bed. And while James and Sirius continued to try to outdo one another regarding their curses, Peter slipped off to the bathroom—no doubt to wash his hands.

Remus was aching to go to bed, but at the same time, they all wanted to watch and see how long it took for James to return to his human form. As they waited, they debated whose curse was the worst. James would never be able to kiss a girl unless he broke the curse. Otherwise, the only people who could kiss him without turning him into a frog were his parents. Something James did not appreciate as an eleven-year-old boy.

Sirius pointed out that James could still move when he was a frog, while Sirius was helplessly asleep. Nothing could wake him. No awakening spell could make him return to consciousness.

“When it happens to me, the best I can hope for is to be levitated to bed before my brother draws on my face.”

“But I heard a kiss could break the curse,” Remus blurted, before he blushed. Like he knew anything about pureblood curses.

“If all it took was a kiss, generations of Blacks would have broken it,” Sirius said, looking a lot less interested in talking about his curse all of a sudden. “But no one’s managed it in centuries.”

Remus hummed, thinking it over. However breaking their curses was done, the fact remained their curses could be broken. Maybe Remus’s curse could be broken, too.

#

February 1975

“Mr. Moony, my truest and bravest friend,” James said, falling across the bed where Remus was propped up by his pillow and reading their potions text, still exhausted from the full moon two nights before. He hadn’t been able to summon the energy to study in the library or the common room.

“What do you want?” Remus asked, not even looking up from his book.

“Permission to complain about my amphibious curse,” James said. “I want to acknowledge that my own curse is physically painless, but I also want sympathy and you are the best listener of us all.”

Remus snorted. “Only because you lot never let me get a word in,” he said. “But go ahead, complain. I’m just going to keep doing my reading, though.”

“Sirius got back from his date with Emmeline, and I caught them snogging in the corridor. It was traumatizing not only to the Fat Lady but my own pure, unsullied eyes,” James said, making gagging noises. Remus immediately identified the root of James’s moodiness.

As time passed, the more James resented his curse that he had once borne with exasperated humor. With no end in sight, Remus understood. Would he still trade curses with James in a heartbeat? Yes. But he still empathized.

The first few years at Hogwarts, the curses had become a customary part of their lives. It wasn’t like James and Sirius were the only ones struggling with pureblood curses, either. Professor Slughorn himself had to wear gloves in case he accidentally touched anyone. They’d turn into a golden statue for a full day. Slughorn wasn’t too bothered about the curse, or so he said. He hadn’t bothered to try to break it—though just how that would be done was a mystery.

That was one thing all of the purebloods were shifty about. From what Remus had read, it was because knowing about the cure could prevent the curse from breaking.

And for James, that meant no snogging until the day the curse was finally broken.

“Ah, the frog prince is wanting a snog of his own,” Remus said, taking on a tone he’d heard Dumbledore use.

James huffed. “It would be nice, that’s all! And Evans doesn’t even take me seriously.”

“Probably because she doesn’t want to start out kissing a boy and have his skin turn slimy and green mid-kiss,” Remus said, trying to say it kindly. “It’s nothing against you, personally.”

Though Remus knew it was a bit personal. Lily had called James an arrogant toerag multiple times.

“You know, a great-aunt of mine had the curse until she was in her fifties,” James said. “What if I can’t get a girl to give me a chance? It’s not like I can date her like a normal boyfriend—like stupid Sirius Black can.”

“I’m sure someone will give you a chance. Otherwise, the Potter line would’ve died out long ago,” Remus said, giving up on his textbook for the time being.

“I dunno. I think some of them just—you know—avoided kissing during the, uh, procreation.” James made a crude gesture, and then they were both laughing. They were still laughing when Sirius waltzed into the dorm.

“Are you two having fun without me? You know how I hate that,” Sirius said. He swung his legs onto the bed next to James and then swiftly kissed James on his temple. Immediately, James was sporting webbed feet.

“Black!” James yelled, hopping angrily to look up at Sirius. “What the fuck, man?”

“You’re bothering Remus when he needs to study,” Sirius began to explain. The Marauders had agreed by the end of first year—and with strong encouragement from their professors—to not take advantage of the pureblood curses. The Marauders generally protected each other from having the curses abused by outsiders. But when they were pissed off enough, retribution happened. They had rules in place for unwarranted invoking of the curses.

“You know the price,” Remus said. And with a flick of his wand, Remus cast a painless spell that drew a drop of blood (one James had invented in the name of revenge two years ago). It was a completely useless spell except for exploiting Sirius’s curse.

“No, wait—” Sirius started to protest, but his face went slack, and he slumped over on the bed. James hopped out of the landing zone.

“Thank you,” James said, hopping onto the edge of Remus’s book. They’d all grown used to James’s frog form by now, and he enjoyed perching on books when he wanted attention. “I owe you one.”

“You’re deeply in my debt. This is not the first time,” Remus said, giving Sirius a gentle nudge so he didn’t fall off the bed.

“Want some help with potions? Not like we can leave Sirius until he wakes up,” James said. That was another tradition that had arose naturally. For Sirius’s safety, if he was knocked out, he had to be watched over unless he went to the hospital wing.

Sirius took great care not to injure himself, so it was only occasionally that he fell asleep at inconvenient times. The first time Remus witnessed it was in first year during potions. Sirius was chopping ingredients and then suddenly dropped, whacking his head hard on the stone floor. Slughorn had to have him levitated to the hospital wing because, as they’d been warned, absolutely nothing could wake him.

By second year, Gryffindors knew to look out for him, and the Marauders had all taken turns preventing his head from hitting the ground during an episode. Though sometimes it was funnier to just let him fall. Like the time Sirius bit his tongue at dinner and went face first into his plate. Or when he was trying a stupid stunt out in the snow and keeled over after he got scratched by low tree branch.

Just as they teased Remus about his furry little problem, the Marauders couldn’t always help themselves when it came to having a laugh. Even at one another’s expense.

#

James was no longer green or secreting mucus by the time Sirius awoke three hours later. Remus, James, and now Peter, had given up studying in favor of playing an ambitious game of chess—with two sets combined onto one chessboard.

“Ugh, now my sleep schedule’s going to be all messed up,” Sirius said through a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Nearly midnight,” Remus answered, yawning, too. He looked down at the chessboard. “We’ll have to pick this up tomorrow. I’m too tired.”

Sirius sat up. “That’s what I was getting onto James about! You’re tired, and you have work to catch up on.”

“I helped him study…after I bothered him,” James said, adding the last part with a guilty grin.

“At least you can keep working as a frog, and—shit. I was supposed to go back down to say goodnight to Emmeline,” Sirius moaned.

“Don’t worry. I told her you were indisposed,” Peter said distractedly, still trying to complete his turn at their game.

“Thanks, man,” Sirius said. “And now I’m wide awake. Anyone fancy a kitchen run?”

“I’m not—” Peter started to say, but James poked him. “Actually, yes.”

Remus wondered what that interaction was about as the three of them got out the invisibility cloak.

“Keep your lips away from me!” he heard James snap under the cloak.

“We’re getting too tall for this,” Peter muttered.

It was only after they left that Remus realized they’d taken their book bags with them. Strange.

#

October 1977

No one could believe Lily Evans had agreed to a date with James—not even James himself. He’d had a handful of dates over the years, but not with girls he genuinely fancied. Which was why Remus witnessed a very unexpected meltdown.

“What do I wear? Should I change my glasses? Cut my hair? Oh, Merlin, what are we going to talk about? What if she asks me about how to break the curse?” James rambled nervously. It was an hour before they planned to leave for Hogsmeade.

Sirius took James by the shoulders. “Jamesie my boy,” he said solemnly. “Don’t do any of that. Don’t even bring up the curse. Just—ask her questions about herself.”

Remus was impressed by Sirius’s reasonable advice.

“But what if I mess things up tonight and then I’m going to be a frog forever?” James said, spiraling into a ball of nerves.

“You won’t,” Sirius said, but he didn’t sound—entirely confident.

“You don’t know that,” James muttered.

Remus wanted to ask how a bad date had anything to do with being a frog forever, but he knew his pureblood friends would never explain it. Between gossip and research, he’d gathered that there was some truth to whatever had trickled down to the muggle fairytales. How much truth was up for conjecture.

Somehow, Sirius bolstered James’s nerve enough that he went downstairs to meet Lily. When James went to the door, he looked back at Sirius who’d sat on the end of Remus’s bed.

“Wait, you’re not coming down with me?” James asked, hands on his hips.

Sirius laughed. “Did you want me to take a picture of you two all dolled up?”

Remus grinned. “I think he did, Padfoot.”

“I only thought you’d want to witness this historic moment,” James said, running his hands through his hair.

“Lily might think you’re bringing him along on your date. Better not,” Remus added, laughing when James glowered and slammed the door.

“Arseholes!” James yelled through the door.

“He’ll be fine,” Remus said, almost to himself.

Sirius sighed and stretched out across the bed, his head falling dangerously near Remus’s thigh. Remus tried not to think about his—rather excruciating—attraction to his friend, but moments like this made it…hard.

“Yeah, probably. If he takes anything seriously, it’s Evans,” Sirius said.

Remus scribbled a few last notes on his essay’s outline. “Should we spy on them?”

Sirius suddenly wrapped his arms around Remus’s waist, squeezing him painfully tight and nearly knocking the quill out of his hand. “You have the best ideas, Moony!”

“We should grab Peter. Wormtail is great a sneaking,” Remus added.

“Genius!” Sirius added, jumping away from Remus as if he’d just realized he’d been hugging him. “Wait, where is he?”

“He went downstairs ages ago. Now he actually didn’t want to miss the historic moment occurring.” Remus paused. “He might already be following them.”

“He probably is,” Sirius said with a snort, wrapping his scarf around his neck haphazardly.

Remus finished putting his homework away and donned his own scarf. As he was tucking it in, Sirius ambushed him with a winter hat, placing it quickly on Remus’s head. The hat was charmed so the large pompom on top began to dance if the wearer got too chilly. It was also Sirius’s hat.

“You always complain about cold ears,” Sirius said. He quickly turned toward the door, not noticing how red Remus had become. Sirius was always doing things like this. He could be self-absorbed and arrogant, but when he cared about someone, he paid attention to their needs. And he didn’t expect anything from it.

“Thanks,” Remus said belatedly, tugging it so his curls weren’t smashed into his eyes.

When they reached the common room, Peter was predictably gone. One of the second years said he’d left with Marlene and Dorcas—all three planning to spy on the date.

“Well we aren’t original at all, are we?” Remus asked as they shuffled through the portrait hole.

“And now we don’t even have Wormtail for help,” Sirius grumbled.

Remus was more worried about that than he wanted to admit. He and Sirius spent very little time alone these days—by Remus’s design. He needed Peter or James to keep him in check. To remind him that Sirius was his best friend, no matter how fit or gorgeous he was.

And now they were going to Hogsmeade together, just the two of them. That was a long time to act like a normal friend with normal platonic feelings.

“What’s James going to do at the end of the date?” Remus said, blurting the first thing that came to mind. No, he hadn’t been thinking of what he’d do at the end of a date with Sirius. Nope.

“What?” Sirius asked, not following.

“Usually people kiss at the end of a date, yeah?”

“Our poor kiss virgin,” Sirius mused. “He’ll have to go for an amorous hug instead.”

“Or a suggestive handshake,” Remus said, his nerves easing as they fell into their usual banter.

“A suggestive handshake? How does that work?”

Remus wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s all in the fingers.”

Sirius barked with laughter, knocking into Remus playfully. “Remind me not to shake your hand, you deviant.”

They carried on like that all the way to Hogsmeade, eventually catching up to Peter, Marlene, and Dorcas outside of the village.

“Where do you think they went first?” Marlene asked, looking around the busy village crowded with students.

“No idea,” Sirius said. “James had about fifty ideas and hadn’t decided when he left.”

“Probably left it to Lily,” Remus mused, and they all laughed at how accurate that likely was.

“Lily usually likes to get her necessary shopping done first,” Dorcas said helpfully.

Going off that, they meandered to the stationery shop, giggling and gossiping about their friends. Sirius brought up the amorous hug versus suggestive handshake, and then they all took turns shaking hands with one another and making inappropriate noises.

Ducking into the stationery shop, they swallowed back their laughter.

“Watch out for letter openers, Black,” the owner called, spying Sirius right away.

“You accidentally nick yourself one time,” Sirius said under his breath.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You knocked over an entire display of inkwells—of every color!”

“Obviously I didn’t mean to do it. I was compromised by the Most Ancient of Curses,” he said, following Remus down the aisle to look at parchment.

“You really think it’s the most ancient of curses?” Remus asked, teasing. Many of the pureblood families claimed to have the oldest curse—like it was a point of pride to have been cursed. Remus would never understand that part of wizarding culture.

“No, I think you know which curse is the oldest,” Sirius said, lowering his voice. He picked up a quill made of what looked like a swan feather. “The most powerful one, too. An unbreakable curse.”

Remus sighed. He supposed it made sense. “The big bad wolf is the main villain in many muggle fairytales.”

“That it is,” Sirius agreed. “Though there is one it’s the hero, right?”

“Um—no?”

“Yeah, there is. I heard about it in Muggle Studies,” Sirius said, putting the quill down. Remus glanced around, looking for their friends. There was no sign of James and Lily, though he could hear Peter and the others discussing a new charmed stamp for adding pictures to letters.

“The wolf is killed in almost every story unless he eats someone to teach them a lesson,” Remus said mildly. If anyone knew about wolves in fairytales, it was him, after all.

“They don’t call him a wolf—not even in the wizard version. It’s the beast one—Beauty and the Beast,” Sirius said, pumping his fist as he remembered it.

“You think that’s about a werewolf?”

“He turns into a man. It’s obvious!”

“In some versions, she kills him,” Remus pointed out.

Sirius winced. “Well, there are a lot of terrible versions of every curse. I’m not going to remind you of mine.”

Yes, Remus didn’t need reminding.

“The point stands. There is one where the wolf is the hero.”

“But they call him a beast, not a wolf.”

“Probably because wizards are terrified of werewolves,” Sirius reasoned.

“For good reason.”

“Maybe the story was to teach them not to be afraid.”

Remus shrugged. He didn’t know why Sirius was so insistent on this, but it wasn’t worth arguing about—especially around so many listening ears.

“Maybe. No way to know for sure, I guess,” Remus said, dropping the subject. He moved to join Peter and the girls for good measure. If Sirius looked disappointed, Remus didn’t know what to do about it.

#

Eventually, by pure luck—because they’d all entirely forgotten their mission—they came across James and Lily in Hogsmeade. They were just sitting on a bench having ice cream, completely unaware of their friends’ failed stalking attempt.

“Aww,” Marlene and Dorcas cooed.

Sirius, Peter, and Remus took up the honor of catcalling loudly, which only earned them an eyeroll from Lily and a rude, distracted gesture from James. Remus grinned. For all his nerves, James looked like he’d gotten comfortable with Lily, and she looked like she was enjoying herself just as much. Remus was happy for them.

And if it made him yearn a little for something like that of his own—minus the chasteness—he shoved those feelings aside.

In silent agreement, the group left James and Lily to their devices and went to get a butterbeer together. Then the mission changed into something else entirely. Sirius wanted to gather intel from Lily’s friends.

“So, how serious is Evans about my brother?” Sirius asked.

“Brother?” Marlene asked.

“As good as. Reg is a major disappointment,” Sirius said, acting flippant when Remus knew that his estrangement from his brother was still a fresh wound. He’d hoped that Regulus would stay in contact with him when he left home, but he ignored Sirius with stubborn cruelty.

“So. Evans. And James,” Sirius continued.

Dorcas and Marlene looked at one another. “Considering she can’t even kiss him without him turning into a little frog, I think she really fancies him,” Dorcas said at last.

“That’s what I like to hear!” Sirius said, tossing back his butterbeer with enthusiasm.

“Needless to say, James is over the moon about Lily,” Remus said to the girls, though it didn’t need to be. Everyone knew about James’s longstanding infatuation.

“Will they ever be able to kiss, though? I know we were joking about hugs and handshakes, and that’s enough at first, but eventually…” Marlene trailed off with a blush.

“Some people can live without that stuff,” Dorcas said.

“But I don’t think Lily—or James—are those people,” Marlene accurately pointed out.

“His dad worked it out,” Sirius said. “James will too.”

“How?” Dorcas asked.

“When the conditions are met. You know how these things are,” Sirius said airily, decidedly not answering the question at all.

“Mysterious pureblood secrets,” Peter groused, earning a grin of solidarity from Dorcas.

“So did your dad have your curse?” Marlene asked.

“Still does,” Sirius said. “Reg didn’t inherit it. Lucky bastard. Neither did any of my cousins.”

“Does James have any cousins with his?” Dorcas followed up with another question.

And that’s when Remus put together the girls had their own mission: gather intel on James’s curse. Maybe Lily had put them up to it. She was probably terribly curious about it, more so now that she was testing out a relationship with him.

“He doesn’t have any cousins,” Peter answered.

“If he does, they’re living in someone’s garden pond,” Remus said.

They ordered another round of butterbeers, and while they waited Sirius excused himself to the bathroom. As soon as he left, the girls promptly turned to Remus and Peter.

“You two really don’t know anything about James’s curse either?” Marlene asked, leaning forward and keeping her voice low.

“Pretty sure it has to do with kissing but only if the mysterious conditions are right,” Peter said, doing a hilarious imitation of Sirius’s posh accent.

“So James has to be kissed…and not turn into a frog? But kissing turns him into a frog!” Marlene said, frustrated.

“The conditions must be met,” Remus repeated with a helpless shrug.

“If we knew the conditions, wouldn’t that help them break it?” Marlene asked.

“Apparently it could mess up their chances of breaking the curse,” Remus said. Whatever that meant.

“If it’s like the muggle stories, I suppose that makes sense,” Dorcas said thoughtfully. Dorcas was the more academic between her and Marlene. Marlene was plenty brilliant, but she preferred quidditch and having a laugh to sitting and reading a book. It was usually Dorcas and Lily who were hunkered down studying.

“But in the muggle stories, the prince stays in frog form until he’s kissed. James does the opposite,” Remus said. “And absolutely nothing wakes Sirius. We tested that in first year, just to be sure.” Buckets of water, strong smells, loud noises, a kiss they begged Marlene to perform, magical remedies—Sirius didn’t so much as stir. Not even when pinched.

It was rather disturbing how vulnerable he was, and as they understood the ramifications of it, that’s when they’d made sure never to leave Sirius alone when he went unconscious. James was also vulnerable as a frog—he couldn’t hold a wand—but he at least had awareness.

“There’s a lot of secrets in fairytales—wizard and muggle, alike,” Dorcas said. “Usually discovering the secret brings about some horrible consequence, but sometimes it’s the way the curse is broken. Maybe that’s it.”

“Who knows?” Peter said. “I’ve accepted that I’m never going to know.”

“Never going to know what?” Sirius asked, squashing in next to Remus even though there was more room beside Marlene across the booth where he’d been sitting before.

“Don’t worry about it,” Remus said breezily. “We were gossiping about you.”

Sirius put on an affronted expression and stole the rest of Remus’s butterbeer in revenge.

#

After drinks, Remus decided to head back to get some homework done ahead of the approaching full moon. Sometimes he felt like he spent as much time preparing for his absences as he did catching up afterward. It was too difficult to stay on top of his studies without wanting to crack from the lack of time to just—be. He’d learned that in third year as the classes grew more advanced. Sometimes he just had to do the bare minimum so he could spend time with his friends or do reading for fun.

Usually Remus went to Hogsmeade with his friends and went back early without much fuss from anyone, but today was different. James was with Lily, and Sirius seemed unsettled without his best mate by his side.

“You’re leaving already?” Sirius asked, grabbing Remus’s sleeve as he turned to go the opposite direction of the others who were going to the bookstore. Remus loved the bookstore, but he had neither the pocket money nor the time to spare.

“Yeah, I have to get the homework for next week done,” Remus said.

“Oh. Right,” Sirius said, as if remembering this was something Remus did every Hogsmeade weekend. “I’ll come with you.”

That was new. Remus’s eyebrows shot up. “What? You don’t have to. You can stay with the others. Do more spying on James and Lily.”

Sirius shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I feel like we haven’t had any canine bonding time lately,” he said, slinging an arm around Remus’s shoulders that certainly did not make Remus’s cheeks warm.

“Canine bonding, huh?”

“Yeah, like what do you thinks smells better: unicorn or centaur shit?”

Remus guffawed. “Merlin, why would you bring that up?”

“Because you’re the only one who will understand what I’m talking about.”

“I’m embarrassed that you’re right. And it’s unicorn,” Remus said, still laughing and unable to look Sirius in the eye. Maybe because Sirius’s arm was around him and if he looked at him from such a short distance, those striking gray eyes would see what feelings Remus was hiding.

“Yes, definitely! It smells so interesting—”

“Like pure magic,” Remus said with a nod. “Even as shit.”

“It does! Remember last full? Padfoot and Moony would not leave it alone. Prongs thought we were disgusting.”

“We were disgusting,” Remus pointed out.

“It’s not like we rolled in it,” Sirius said defensively. “Though Padfoot really wanted to.”

“I’m glad you were able to resist your instincts.”

Sirius dropped his arm and nudged Remus. “I’m excellent at resisting my instincts, actually. Otherwise Padfoot would hump your leg every time I transformed.”

Sirius made an obscene movement with his hips that Remus found more enticing than he should considering how ridiculous it looked. Remus gave Sirius a shove, putting some much needed distance between them.

“Bad dog!” Remus said sternly.

Sirius suddenly had a wicked gleam in his eyes, and Remus knew he was in trouble.

“No, come here and let me hump your leg!” Sirius said, lunging forward.

Remus yelped and dodged, huffing with laughter as he ran up the path toward the castle, Sirius hot on his heels. James was the fastest if they were ever running—usually away from Filch or the groundskeeper in the middle of the night. Peter wasn’t interested in running at all and preferred to hide if the opportunity was there. Sirius and Remus were usually a good match on foot.

This meant Remus could not afford to slow down, but he kept laughing while Sirius cackled behind him, and neither was putting their strongest effort into it. They bowled through a group of Ravenclaws who squawked and called them, “Idiot Gryffindors!” That only made them laugh harder as they continued the chase.

“Get back here!” Sirius yelled, and he suddenly was right behind Remus. Sirius’s hand swiped over his robes, failing to get a hold of him.

Remus made an undignified noise as he tried to go faster, but part of him wanted to be caught, wanted to know what Sirius would do, wanted to—

Oh.

This was a little too close to flirting, wasn’t it? The epiphany coincided with Remus tripping over himself, and a split-second later Sirius collided into him, sprawling them into the grass.

 After years of being Sirius’s friend, the first thing Remus did was check Sirius hadn’t broken any skin. If he had, Remus would be levitating him back to the school.

“Still in one piece?” Remus asked, but it wasn’t necessary, Sirius was laughing like a first year.

“Yeah, yeah, my delicate skin held up fine,” he said. “Your bony backside broke most of my fall.”

“Oi!” Remus said, sitting up. “It’s not that bony.”

“Well, felt bony enough. I’d need a closer inspection to be sure,” Sirius said with a wink.

They were so close together, and Sirius looked so good with his hair all mussed from the wind and the grass, a flush to his cheeks, and his breath was quick and sounded just like—

No, no, Remus couldn’t go there.

“Want to go down to the lake?” Sirius asked abruptly, jumping to his feet. “Looks like no one’s there.” He pointed down the hill where, sure enough, the lake was free of other students.

“Uh, sure,” Remus said. “Just for a bit. Then I really do have to get started on my homework.”

Sirius grinned brightly, and Remus supposed it was worth it if he got behind on his work to spend a little time with his friend. As long as Remus didn’t make a fool of himself.

Down at the lake they walked about for a bit, then went down to the dock and watched for the giant squid and other little creatures bobbing around in the water. It was easy and comfortable, and they were lost in conversation about everything and nothing at all. For as many years as they’d been friends, they had never done this. It was strangely exhilarating, addictive, and terrifying.

Remus never wanted it to end.

“What would you do if your curse was broken?” Remus asked him.

“What would you do if your curse was broken?” Sirius countered.

But Remus had a ready answer. “Sleep through the full moon—in my own bed.” That’s all he ever wanted in the moments before the transformation, ever since he was a child. He craved the comfort and normalcy of it.

Sirius nodded in understanding. “Makes sense. For me…I guess I never really thought about it. I doubt I’ll be able to break it. It’s not like James’s curse and—” Sirius frowned, seeming to reconsider. “But it’d be nice to not have to be so careful all the time. Like even now, I’m making sure the wood on the dock doesn’t have splinters sticking out. I want to walk barefoot without watching my step, or hold parchment without worrying a papercut is going to knock me unconscious.” Sirius tilted his head, so very dog like, and grinned. “That good enough for you?”

“I’d still trade you curses, if I could,” Remus said, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I wish I could trade you,” Sirius said quietly. “Even just for one month—to give you a break. You deserve it, Moony.”

Remus’s pulse thundered in his ears, breath caught in his throat. He was certain Sirius meant it as a gesture of friendship, nothing more, but Remus’s heart melted at his words. And Sirius was looking at him so intently, like he was working through complicated calculations. Was he figuring out how Remus felt about him? Did Sirius, maybe…?

Suddenly the hat was vibrating on Remus’s head—violently so.

“Oh, shit, I lost track of the time,” Sirius said. He stood quickly. “You’re cold, and you said you had homework to do.”

“Right. We should get back,” Remus said. And he was cold, he realized. The hat was correct. It had been easy to forget when Sirius was right beside him, but now he was aware the chill had furtively crept into his extremities.

Remus was disappointed that whatever spell had fallen over them by the lake had ended, but he was stupidly pleased when Sirius joined him in the library and offered to help find books for their Transfiguration essay. Remus knew Sirius was just looking to fill the void of James now that he was with Lily, but Remus couldn’t help but bask in the attention.

#

No one was more delighted than James when Lily agreed to another date. And then another. And soon the dates weren’t important at all because they were doing everything together. Studying or eating, they did it together. The Marauders politely accepted the change in status quo, making room for Lily—and often Marlene and Dorcas—in their circle.

As supportive friends, the Marauders were also willing to put up with James’s complaints when his…frustrations…boiled over.

“She’s going to break up with me before I can break the curse. I just know it.”

“This is so stupid. I’m getting worked up over a hug.”

“Suggestive handshakes? Remus Lupin, I will end you.”

And one especially bad moment, “Do girls really need kissing to have sex? I’m just asking!”

This went on until one fateful night. James and Lily had gone off somewhere to do Merlin-knew-what if they couldn’t even kiss. Peter was chatting up Connie Macmillan, which left Remus studying while Sirius distracted him under the pretense of quizzing him.

“Oh, what’s this?” Sirius said suddenly, dropping the cards he’d been using to quiz Remus.

“What?” Remus turned around, following his gaze to the common room entrance where Lily was walking in, face bright red, with a very glum and froggish James sitting on her shoulder.

Sirius snorted. “How bad did you mess this date up, Potter?” Sirius asked, plucking James up and putting him on the coffee table.

“He didn’t!” Lily whispered, still blushing. “I just—I forgot.”

“Oh,” Remus said dumbly, glancing at Sirius. Sirius’s eyes were genuinely worried as he looked down at James’s amphibian form. Maybe he knew something Remus didn’t.

“It’s a tragedy,” James said, flattening himself out like a squished frog in the road.

“I’m really, really sorry,” Lily said.

“Me too,” James muttered dejectedly. He sprang to the floor, then hopped toward the staircase leading to the boys’ dormitory.

“I better go let him in,” Sirius said. “He can’t open the door.”

Lily lowered herself into the seat beside Remus as he hastily cleaned up his note cards.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said, hiding in her hands.

“It could happen to anyone dating him,” Remus pointed out. He looked around frantically for Marlene or Dorcas, who would be a better choice for emotional support, but they were nowhere to be found. “He understands.”

“I’m not sure he does,” Lily said quietly. “I think I made the curse worse.”

“How could you make it worse?”

“Well…he told me he loved me,” she said, voice going even quieter. “And I really like him—but I’m not sure I’m there yet, you know? I didn’t know what to do, so I kissed him. Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly or I wouldn’t have!”

Remus nodded, not entirely following. “But how does that make the curse worse?”

“You know how usually James transforms back in an hour or so?”

“Yes,” Remus said warily.

“I kissed him…three hours ago.”

#

In the morning, James was still a frog. A very despondent, miserable little frog.

“Lily doesn’t love me. I’m going to be a frog for the rest of my life, and this bed is too big!” James griped, hopping around his bed in displeasure.

“I’ll make you something smaller to sleep in?” Peter offered.

“Thank you, Wormtail,” James said primly. “I’m probably going to be like this forever because I’m going to love Lily forever and—fuck it. What’s the point? We’ll never figure out the conditions and she’s never going to—” And suddenly Sirius was there, muffling whatever else James was going to say.

Remus looked over at Peter. “Stupid pureblood secrets,” Peter mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He clearly was reaching the end of his patience. He really did hate being left out.

“Don’t say another word,” Sirius hissed into his hand—which was now holding a squirming, angry frog-James.

“What does it matter?” James huffed. “They wouldn’t tell. And the conditions are already half done, and she doesn’t feel that way about me,” James went limp, his little webbed feet swinging pathetically.

“It’s just a lot of pressure for her,” Remus said carefully, knowing he might make James feel worse. “She really likes you. She said so last night.”

“Like isn’t love,” James muttered.

“So, from what I’m gathering, for the curse to break she has to love you?” Remus asked, flinching when Sirius glared at him just for asking the question.

“Yes—among other things,” James said. “My dad was lucky. This didn’t happen to him. Now I have to get her to fall in love with me, which is hard enough, but while I look like a frog?!”

Remus mulled it over. “You’re going to have to be very charming.”

“I’ve been charming for months—”

“Some people take longer than that to fall in love,” Remus said gently. Some people knew one another for years before they fell in love. Not that he was going to say that to James. “But she’s willing to try. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Eventually, James rallied and hopped down to breakfast with them. He even valiantly gave an oral presentation in Defense. His feet kept sticking to the parchment he was reading off of, and he occasionally croaked which caused the entire class to break into giggles.

The professor, the ill-humored Pauline Petrova, looked like she was questioning all her life choices as James jumped down from her desk when he was finished.

“Thank you, Mr. Frogger—I mean Potter.” She flung a hand over her eyes at her mistake. The class lost all sense of decorum, and Sirius laughed so hard he had to hold onto Remus for support.

The entertainment was worth the extra homework they all received as Professor Petrova’s revenge.

And Lily, as the best girlfriend a cursed frog could ask for, wrote out most of James’s homework assignments for him—that she insisted he dictate to her. Sirius, Remus, and Peter did the rest, blatantly copying from one another without remorse. Doubling up on homework was fun for nobody, though at every opportunity James said he’d rather be doing his own homework than needing misted with water every once in a while so his skin didn’t dry out.

James’s mood only grew more despairing as a week went by. He couldn’t use his wand. He couldn’t play quidditch or transform into Prongs. Not to mention the everyday challenges of not being able to feed or care for himself. At least going to the bathroom was easy enough—he was a frog. He simply used the shower drain.

Lily tried to make up for it by spending all of their free time together, and she’d offered to kiss James every day—slimy skin and all—if it helped. But James said not to bother.

“It won’t help unless she means it,” James grumbled after explaining what he’d told Lily. He wiggled into the little box bed Peter had made for him. It was lined with a pillowcase and a rolled-up sock served as the pillow. His blanket was a silk handkerchief they’d stolen from the common room.

“She’s not going to love you if you’re a glum bum all the time,” Peter said.

“I’m not complaining to her,” James said with what might have been a glower, but it was impossible to tell on a frog. “I don’t want her to feel bad about it. It’s not really her fault.”

“She did kiss you,” Sirius said. If anyone was holding a grudge against Lily for turning James into a frog, it was Sirius.

“If I was someone else, we could have snogged like normal teenagers, but nooooo, her boyfriend turned into a croaky, green amphibian,” James said.

“Blame your ancestors, mate,” Remus said, hoping to give him something else to focus his frustrations on.

“Oh, I do,” James said darkly. “Merlin, did you know one of my great uncles was a frog for a year?”

“That won’t happen to you,” Sirius said patiently. “Maybe what you need is a bowtie. Or a hat. We’ve always talked about it—”

“Padfoot, you know if I’m going to wear anything, it would be a monocle.”

At least James hadn’t entirely lost his sense of humor.

#

By Christmastime, people were taking bets on whether or not James would still be a frog at the new year. Lily had offered to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas like the Marauders, but considering they had decided to stay due to the full moon falling on Christmas, they encouraged her to go home like she always did.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, eh, Evans?” Sirius said with a wink.

Lily rolled her eyes, but James, sitting on Remus’s shoulder, said, “Here’s hoping it does.”

Of course, James could have gone home for Christmas if he’d wanted, though none of the others wanted to say as much. James couldn’t transform as long as he was cursed into frog form. The animagus form was not a loophole any of them could use. Sirius could hold his form as Padfoot, but if Padfoot did get nicked, he fell asleep just as Sirius did. They tested it before Sirius was allowed to join Remus for full moons. And it was lucky Padfoot’s paws and fur were thick—he’d never injured himself while transformed.

James tried to act cheerful Christmas morning, though his little webby hands couldn’t unwrap the presents, and then Sirius tried to help him open them and got a papercut for his troubles. He almost landed on James and squashed him.

“This is getting fucking ridiculous,” Remus muttered under his breath, heaving Sirius into a more comfortable position on the bed while James vaulted out of the way.

Peter snorted. “You mean it wasn’t already? One friend’s a frog. The other has a sleep curse. And then there’s your furry little problem.” Peter frowned. “You know, I’m starting to feel left out.”

“Want me to bite you tonight?” Remus asked dryly.

“Hmm,” Peter said, pretending to think it over. “I’d rather you not.”

“You could say you’re cursed with friends like us,” James offered. “Does that make you feel better?”

“It does,” Peter said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

It really was an awful Christmas all around, especially for Remus who couldn’t even go to Christmas dinner in the Great Hall. He was busy growing fur and fangs.

Padfoot was the only one who joined him in the shack that night. He had his work cut out for him without Prongs, so they stayed in the shack rather than exploring. By himself, Padfoot wasn’t much of a match for Moony, he could only distract and entertain the wolf. He would roll around, and offer him broken bits of wood to chomp on. They played chase, but there was very little space.

It was still better than spending the moon alone.

Remus woke up with some gouges here and there, but Pomfrey fixed him right up.

He returned to Gryffindor Tower and found Peter and James playing a game of chess. He mumbled a greeting before trudging upstairs for a nap. Sirius was already there, asleep on his own bed. He hadn’t bothered to close the curtains, and Remus could see he’d sprawled across the bed without changing his clothes.

Unlike his cursed sleep, Sirius’s natural sleep was very fidgety. A little like a dog, perhaps. He twitched and rolled, and sometimes he talked in his sleep.

Remus took a moment longer than was platonic to look at his friend before he shucked off his shoes and prepared to climb into his own bed.

“Moony,” Sirius suddenly said, but it was garbled, like he wasn’t entirely awake.

“…Yes?” Remus tried. He’d been fooled by Sirius’s sleep talk before. It was something all of them had learned to be skeptical of.

“You’re so pretty I hate it,” he mumbled.

“Oh really?” Remus asked, laughing quietly because this wasn’t even the most nonsensical thing he’d heard during Sirius’s sleep talk. Remus wasn’t pretty at all. He was, at best, rugged-looking, or so a boy he’d dated the year before had told him.

“Warm like a cup of tea,” Sirius continued, his words slurred, but clear enough. Remus waited a few moments, but Sirius didn’t say anything more.

“What the hell does that mean,” Remus wondered to himself, climbing under the covers. He spent half an hour trying to figure it out before he fell asleep.

#

The holidays passed in a blur. They amused themselves by hiding James in random places to frighten the other Gryffindors who had stayed at Hogwarts. A small frog on a bookshelf was incredibly stealthy, it turned out. After enough successful scares, everyone was a little on edge whenever they were in the common room, waiting for a frog ambush.

As far as a Marauder holiday went, it was very tame. Maybe it was the strain of watching over their froggy friend, but no one brought up any mischief making other than sneaking in some firewhiskey—which was hardly original. They did that about once a month.

When the other students returned to Hogwarts, Lily came looking for her boyfriend immediately. They wandered off to somewhere with more privacy, leaving the rest of the Marauders in the common room.

“I hope Evans puts him in a better mood,” Sirius said. “This is like fifth year James all over again.”

Remus and Peter chuckled. They all knew exactly what Sirius was talking about—although none of them had been at their best in fifth year. They’d collectively turned into a group of arseholes, though James had deviated the most from his usual personality. It had been a relief when he’d returned for sixth year a little more put together.

“I’m just worried he’s going to be like this until graduation,” Peter said, voicing the concern weighing on all of them.

Remus chewed on his lip. “He can’t take his NEWTs like this, can he?”

“I don’t think so,” Sirius said. “He needs to use his wand.”

“If Malfoy could break his curse, you’d think James could figure this out,” Peter said.

“I can’t believe that git managed it,” Sirius said. “I liked him better when he was a pumpkin.”

“Speaking of pumpkin,” Peter said, putting an effort into whispering. “I am really craving some pumpkin juice. Want to sneak down to the kitchens?”

“Maybe,” Sirius said, looking at Remus. “What do you think, Moony?”

Remus shrugged. “Sure. It’s getting crowded in here, anyway.” Gryffindors were filing down to the common room left and right, discussing what they did on holiday, and who hadn’t gotten their assignments finished over the break.

“I’ll come then. Just let me put my stuff away first,” Sirius said, gathering the magazines he’d carried down earlier.

Sirius had scarcely left when Dorcas came over, carrying a small potted cactus. She dropped it onto the table in front of Remus and Peter.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Um. What is it?” Peter asked, eyeing the cactus with suspicion.

“Looks like a cactus,” Remus said. “My mum has some.”

“It looks—pointy,” Peter said wisely.

“It doesn’t have any magical properties,” Dorcas said, giving the cactus a disappointed look. “It was a present from one of my muggle cousins, but I don’t have any space for it in the dorm. I was going to leave it down here for decoration.” Remus remembered Dorcas had a fondness for plants. She supposedly had about a dozen potted plants stashed in her dormitory.

Remus looked around the common room. It already had an eclectic assortment of knickknacks from other students, crammed onto shelves and underneath tables. Remus himself had put up a hilarious drawing Peter had done of Dumbledore wearing shorts and sunglasses like a muggle.

“Are you asking us if it looks nice on the table?” Remus asked, not following. Remus had no idea if it looked nice or not. It was a cactus. “My mum keeps them by the window. They need a lot of sunlight.”

“Hmm, good point,” Dorcas said. She placed it gently on the windowsill next to a pot with a shrinking violet. It crumpled in fright when Dorcas stood beside it, blossoming brightly as soon as she stepped away. She plopped down across from Remus and Peter. “Now, my ulterior motive for bothering you. I actually wanted to ask how Potter is holding up.”

Remus gestured to Peter. “You can take this one,” he said.

“He’s…enduring this trying time with aplomb,” Peter answered tactfully.

Dorcas shook her head. “I’m beginning to forget what that speccy idiot looks like.”

“Let’s hope Lily isn’t,” Remus said with a smile. “Unless that would help?”

They were laughing at poor James’s expense when Sirius finally returned. Remus, always aware of when Sirius had entered a room, noticed instantly that something wasn’t right. One moment Sirius was light on his feet, the next he nearly halted in his tracks. He turned, no longer heading toward Remus and Peter. Sirius’s eyes were unfocused—vacant—as he crept forward, seemingly unaware of anyone else. A few students knocked into him, and he didn’t react.

“Sirius?” Remus called, wondering if his friend had been hit by a jinx or some kind of compulsion spell.

Sirius didn’t react. He kept walking, heading toward the window where Dorcas had left her cactus. Remus was too baffled to put it together fast enough.

“Wait, Sirius! That’s sharp!” Remus said, jumping to his feet. He also pulled out his wand, ready to cast a counter-jinx, but he was too late to do anything but cast a cushioning charm as Sirius’s finger pricked the needle of the cactus—hard enough to draw blood.

 #

“Haven’t had this much trouble with pureblood curses in all my life,” Madame Pomfrey clucked, levitating Sirius onto one of the hospital wing’s empty beds.

Remus, Peter, and Dorcas stood uselessly to the side. Dorcas held the cactus at arm’s length as a precaution. They’d all seen the strange compulsion Sirius had been under beforehand, and it was better safe than sorry, though considering it had been a gift from a muggle, Remus had no idea how it could have gotten cursed.

No, Remus had another theory he was embarrassed to voice aloud. The way Sirius had been posed, arm outstretched toward the cactus, had reminded Remus of a picture in the book from the muggle library, a young princess pricking her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel.

But a cactus?

That was absurd.

Pomfrey did several scans over Sirius with her wand, mumbling to herself. “Seems to be reading just like he usually does when his curse acts up. No other injuries. He should wake in a few hours.”

“But—the cactus?” Dorcas said, holding it out to her uncertainly.

“I’ll take it,” Pomfrey said. “Professor Sprout and I will take a look at it, as a precaution.” Pomfrey put a protection spell around the cactus for good measure before she took it from Dorcas. Then she shooed them out, saying there was nothing else for them to do.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Peter said as they walked back to the common room.

“So do I,” Remus said, replaying the vacant expression on Sirius’s face just before he pricked his finger.

“I’m sorry,” Dorcas said. “The cactus seemed fine to me.”

“I think it is fine,” Remus said. “It’s something wrong with Sirius.”

Peter sighed heavily. “Pureblood secrets again. Maybe James will know what the deal is.”

Dorcas scoffed. “James Potter who is currently cursed as a frog? You think he has any idea what he’s doing?”

Luckily, they bumped into James and Lily just outside of Gryffindor Tower, and they agreed to gather in the boys’ dorm to discuss it. Lily and Dorcas sat with James between them on his bed—neither commenting on the presence of the little box bed Peter had made him. Then Remus, Peter, and Dorcas explained what had happened with the cactus.

“A cactus?” James asked, looking to Lily in confusion. “Like—the pokey plant?”

“My muggle cousin gave it to me,” Dorcas said.

“It was covered in needles,” Peter said in a hushed voice. “Why would you give that to someone as a present?”

“They’re very easy to care for,” Lily said distractedly. “You don’t think his curse is getting worse, do you? Like yours, James?” she asked, turning to her boyfriend.

“But Sirius still has time to wake up,” James said. “Maybe someone was just being stupid and wanted him to fall asleep?” But he didn’t sound optimistic.

#

Remus camped out in the common room that evening, waiting hopefully for Sirius to return. He tried to study for a bit before he gave up and picked up a game of chess with James, though neither was very invested in it. Peter occasionally made a move for them when they weren’t paying attention, unable to concentrate on the comic in his lap.

At the six-hour mark, they checked the Marauders Map and saw Sirius’s marker was still stationed in the hospital wing.

“That’s not good,” Remus stated unnecessarily.

“The conditions were met? But…it’s been at least two centuries since a Black broke the curse, and Sirius isn’t…” James trailed off, lost in thought.

But Remus had had enough. “What conditions?” he demanded. “We can’t help if we don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s not like we’d do anything to harm Sirius,” Peter said quietly.

James covered his eyes with a webby foot. “I suppose it doesn’t matter at this point. Up to the dorm again.” He hopped down from the table, leaving Remus to grab the chess set and follow.

The three of them gathered in the dorm, James sitting on a pillow as they all squished together on Sirius’s empty bed.

“So, what conditions were met? What’s going to happen to him?” Remus asked, growing more and more worried. James had been a frog for over a month. If Sirius slept that long…

“First of all, I’d like to remind you all that Sirius doesn’t like his family and they’re a bunch of blood supremacists, yeah?” James said. Peter and Remus nodded in understanding. “The curse can be broken if he falls in love with someone of muggle blood. Could be a muggleborn or a half-blood. Doesn’t matter. But it has to be requited.”

“Uh, all right then,” Remus said.

“It’s not like my curse. It has to be both of them. That’s why…that’s why we don’t want to talk about it. It’ll be like what Lily’s going through. It’s too much pressure to fall in love.”

“So Sirius is…in love?” Remus asked, ignoring the crack shooting through his heart as he said it. They were just friends. Why did matter if Sirius was in love or not.

“And they must love him back,” James said. “But I don’t know about the trigger or how to break it. Neither did Sirius. The Blacks have buried that history. I think they want the person to sleep forever as punishment.”

“What—a trigger?” Peter asked.

“Like Lily kissing me after I’d fallen in love with her,” James said. “Apparently for Sirius, it was a cactus,” James said, throwing up his webby feet in frustration. “Probably a kiss has something to do with breaking the curse, but there might be more to it, like in my curse. Sirius didn’t know all the details.”

“Why is it always a kiss?” Remus wondered.

“I think it was a fad at the time these generational curses were popular—before they were banned,” James said, a small croak slipping out. Remus could just picture it, a dark curse put on a family, but then offering a way out that involved a kiss for flare. Ridiculous.

“And your curse is similar?”

“My conditions are easier to meet than Sirius’s—that’s why my family has such a good history of breaking the curse, while his doesn’t,” James said.

“Maybe we should talk to Regulus,” Remus suggested. “He might know even if Sirius didn’t.”

“We can try,” James said. “Doubt he’ll talk to us, though.”

“Do you have any better ideas?” Remus countered.

James didn’t.

Their best mate was trapped in a cursed sleep, and they had no idea how to wake him. The dorm was silent as they got ready for bed, aware of the friend they were missing.

#

Before classes could even start, the remaining Marauders were asked to the hospital wing where Pomfrey, McGonagall, and Dumbledore were sitting around drinking tea. Several books were strewn across the table between them.

“Ah, thank you for coming,” Dumbledore said. He transfigured two chairs beside the table, and then a miniature chair that was about the size of a teacup. The tiny chair was put in front of Remus on the table. Awkwardly, he gave James a boost onto the chair.

“Have you figured out anything about Sirius?” Remus asked, hopeful that the adults would figure out the answers. Remus had a lot of faith in Dumbledore, but not even he had been able to break Remus’s curse, and what if Sirius’s curse was somehow on that level? What if dark magic was necessary to break it…?

“Not exactly. We ruled out the cactus as a source,” Dumbledore said, sipping his tea. “We have another solid theory, though.”

“We don’t follow our students’ love lives all that closely, so we wondered if you knew if Mr. Black had a girlfriend?” McGonagall asked sternly, sounding exactly as she did when she was quizzing them in Transfiguration. Beside Remus, Peter bolted upright in conditioned fear.

“He hasn’t said anything to me if he has,” James said.

“And he would’ve told James if he was going to tell any of us,” Peter said confidently.

Remus could only nod in support. The idea that Sirius had some secret girlfriend had put his stomach in knots.

“What about girls he fancies?” Pomfrey asked, taking a kinder approach. “Or spends a lot of time with?”

It was the same answer.

“He’s such a popular boy,” Pomfrey said in consternation. “It makes no sense.”

James croaked nervously. “There may have been someone he fancied,” James said. “Not that he told me as much, but he’s usually going on about some girl or another, and he’s not brought anyone up for months.”

Remus furrowed his brows. “That’s right. Not since we returned to school,” he said, thinking.

“Maybe someone he met over the summer?” McGonagall prodded impatiently—like she thought they were withholding information on purpose.

“What about boys?” Pomfrey asked, changing tactics when they weren’t getting an answer. “I’ve only seen him date girls, but for thoroughness…”

James croaked. “Uh…”

Remus and Peter turned to one another, jaws dropping open.

“You and Sirius and your pureblood secrets,” Peter said sourly.

“He wasn’t ready to tell everyone. But maybe…maybe that’s why he hadn’t brought it up. He did meet a boy over the summer, now that I think about it, but it was a muggle and I never got his name,” James said. He sounded apologetic. “I doubt it was him. Sirius can’t use muggle post to save his life.”

“We’ll inspect any of his mail that comes through. Just in case,” Dumbledore said, finally speaking up.

“So, what boys does Mr. Black spend time with aside from you three?” McGonagall asked, pushing her glasses up her nose to stare at them.

The interrogation continued until shortly before classes began.

“Is there anything else we can do to help?” Remus asked, lingering at the door behind Peter and James. “More research or something?” He didn’t want to sit on his hands while Sirius was trapped under a curse. Sirius had become an animagus for him. He owed him so much…

Dumbledore smiled kindly. “You’re a good friend, Mr. Lupin. If we think of something, I’ll let you know.”

#

Word spread quickly through the school about Sirius’s predicament, though no one knew the exact details, much like the other students didn’t know why James was stuck in frog form. The gossip was always more fantastical than the truth. There had been a lot of witnesses to the moment Sirius touched the cactus, so most of the rumors involved a cursed cactus, which was easier to go along with than explain the truth.

Dorcas never did get the cactus back.

“Maybe we should just get everyone to kiss him,” Peter suggested while they were pulling every book on curses in the library. “Maybe it just has to be a kiss from his—true love, or whatever they call it in the muggle stories.”

“I don’t think Sirius would appreciate that,” Remus said, though James’s neck bulged with air as he considered.

“It could work.”

“Maybe it’s James,” Peter suggested with a chuckle. “Maybe it’s not Lily’s kiss you need—”

James gave an annoyed croak. “It’s not me. And I’m a pureblood, anyway. It has to be a muggleborn or a half-blood.”

“What if it’s that muggle bloke?” Peter said. “We’ll never find him.”

“I don’t think it’s him,” James insisted. “There’d be no reason to hide that from me. No…it has to be someone he didn’t want me to know about. Merlin, I hope it’s not a Slytherin.”

Remus winced at the thought. “And a Slytherin would be afraid to come forward about their relationship, too.”

James hopped over a book. “If they really care about him, they should fucking help him,” he muttered.

Two hours later, books were strewn across the table, but they’d made no progress. They’d had to shake off several curious students wondering about the cursed cactus, and none of them were in a very good mood.

“This would be easier if I had FINGERS,” James snapped as a page stubbornly clung to his foot when he tried to turn it. Remus had to agree. James was usually excellent at research, but as a frog he was severely hindered. Peter was all right at research, though he tended to get distracted and read further than necessary. So most of the burden of research had fallen to Remus, and his concentration was waning.

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice said, making Remus jolt with hope for a moment. But it wasn’t Sirius. It was Regulus, hovering beside their table with a book under one arm.

It was a surprise. They’d been planning to ask Regulus at dinner, which was fast approaching, and they hadn’t expected cooperation.

Regulus jutted out his chin. “Is it true Sirius is in the hospital wing?”

“Yes,” James said.

“Because of the curse?” Regulus asked, like he couldn’t fathom it.

“I’m surprised the professors haven’t spoken to you about it,” James said lightly.

Regulus’s cheeks went pink. So they had. He was just playing dumb to get information from them. “They aren’t exactly forthcoming with students,” he said in explanation.

“Do you know how the curse can be broken?” Peter asked bluntly.

“It’s not a curse the family wants broken,” Regulus said, instead of answering. “It’s seen as a protective spell to keep the bloodline pure.”

Remus clenched his fists. Yes, Regulus looked a lot like his brother, but that didn’t make Remus want to punch him any less. “So what Sirius is going through is a punishment?”

 Regulus gave the slightest nod. “But I think the theories are true—he just needs a kiss from—whoever loves him,” he said, face scrunched in discomfort.

“No other conditions?” James asked.

“I don’t think so. I believe all the conditions were already met,” Regulus said crisply. “Just who is the idiot that loves him, then?”

It was James who answered. “That’s what we’d like to know.”

#

It seemed Regulus had been telling the truth about speaking to the professors because after dinner, the Marauders were once again called into a meeting with the professors. This time, they were questioned individually by McGonagall.

James was called in first, followed by Peter, and finally Remus.

“Want us to wait for you?” Peter asked.

“Nah, go ahead. Shouldn’t take long,” Remus said, waving them off. James had already given him a preview of what to expect, and Remus knew even less than James.

McGonagall’s office was a sadly familiar room to Remus. Usually his friends were at his side, receiving a lecture on how to be better students and people. Remus always felt horribly guilty for letting his friends talk him into breaking the rules, and the guilt sank in now like it was a programmed response.

“Mr. Lupin,” McGonagall greeted. “Please sit down.”

Remus sat, keeping his back straight. He wasn’t in trouble, he reminded himself.

“I’m not sure I’m going to be any help,” Remus said. “James is his best friend.”

“But hasn’t Mr. Potter been busy with his own curse lately? And Miss Evans?” McGonagall asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I suppose,” he mumbled. He and Sirius had spent a lot more time together than they had in other years at Hogwarts. He was distinctly uncomfortable with McGonagall knowing that. Maybe she sensed that Remus’s feelings ran a little more deeply than they should? But Remus wasn’t in love with Sirius—of course not! They were just friends. And it wasn’t like Sirius was interested. He had some secret Slytherin lover hiding somewhere.

“Are you going to tell me you have no idea who could help your friend either?” she asked.

Remus shrugged helplessly. “Did James tell you about our Slytherin theory?”

Her lips twitched. “Yes. Both Mr. Potter and Mr. Pettigrew informed me of this…creative idea. I’ll speak to Professor Slughorn, but truly, the only other students we see Mr. Black spend significant time with—and yes, we professors do make note of these things—are Gryffindors.”

“If it was a Gryffindor, why would Sirius hide it? Especially from James. They tell each other everything.”

“That’s exactly the question, and why I wanted to speak to each of you alone,” McGonagall said. “He could be in love with someone who’s already in a relationship—”

“Not Lily,” Remus said, horrified. Sirius would never do that to James.

“That was just an example,” McGonagall said. “Our other idea is that Mr. Black isn’t in an official relationship with this person at all. Perhaps he didn’t even know his feelings were returned?” She studied Remus, lips pressed together. “What do you think of that?”

“I can’t imagine Sirius keeping his feelings to himself,” Remus said. “You know how he is. He doesn’t hold back.” It was the same quality that had caused him to leave home so young. Sirius couldn’t keep quiet when he had strong feelings about something.

McGonagall was quiet for a moment, tapping her fingers on her desk. “He must have had a good reason to keep it to himself, then,” she said. “Mr. Potter said he’d been afraid to tell everyone about his interest in men.”

“So you think it’s a boy?” Remus asked, his heart stuttering at the thought. Maybe one of the sixth-year boys…

“You know Mr. Black better than I do. What do you think?”

She was trying to get him to explain his thinking, Remus realized. She did that often in class.

“Maybe a boy he didn’t think was interested in other boys, too?” Remus could see that. “Someone he’s already friends with—so we wouldn’t notice. And he is friends with practically everyone in Gryffindor.”

McGonagall gestured for him to continue, but Remus was already at his limit. He hadn’t even processed the idea that Sirius liked other boys.

“Someone attractive?” Remus tried. “All of the girls he’s dated are gorgeous.” Certainly not someone with scars and gangly legs.

McGonagall sighed, the same sigh she did whenever she was disappointed in him. But Remus had tried. Even if he had to out some closeted Gryffindor, Remus would do it if it meant waking Sirius from the curse. For his friend, Remus would do anything.

#

Two weeks later, nearly every Gryffindor had been interviewed by one professor or another. And Remus overheard Slughorn, Flitwick, and Sprout had done the same to a handful of muggleborn and half-blood students in their own houses. Nothing had come of it.

Sirius was still cursed.

It was looking like soon the professors would have to give in and allow potential, interested students to kiss him. That didn’t sit right with Remus, though James and Peter were tentatively supportive of the idea. They all just wanted their friend back.

James even went through Sirius’s belongings—well, he tried. As a frog, he didn’t get very far.

“Better a violation of privacy from us than the professors,” James said, which convinced Remus and Peter to help open Sirius’s trunk. They didn’t find anything useful. Sirius kept his trunk neat as a pin—no junk, few sentimental items.

“He keeps all his letters,” James said, springing to inspect the inside of the empty trunk. Sirius’s things were spread around the room as they methodically inspected each item. “But not a single one from anyone we haven’t spoken to already.”

“He writes to Remus a lot more than me,” Peter said, holding up two stacks of letters bound up with string. The letters from Remus were twice as tall.

“I hardly have any!” James said from within the trunk.

“That’s because you two live together in the summers,” Remus reminded him. “And I like writing letters more than you, Wormtail.”

Peter smiled, reassured. But inside the trunk, a belching croak burst out from James.

“Merlin! Hold on! Oh, Merlin. I’m having an epiphany,” James said, crawling onto the edge of the trunk and clinging to it. His black, bulbous eyes blinked rapidly as he stared at Remus.

“What epiphany are you having?” Peter asked impatiently. “Because me and Remus still have to clean up this mess.”

“I think I know who it is,” James said breathlessly. “But let me talk it out, okay? I’ve been thinking and thinking—why wouldn’t Sirius tell me who it was? And no, it’s not me, Pete,” he said before Peter could interrupt. “But here me out, if Sirius was in love with me, I don’t think he’d tell me. He wouldn’t want to ruin a friendship over feelings.”

“But you’re not in love with him,” Remus said, though he was sure James would kiss Sirius if it would wake him up. He was a good mate that way. “So who is it?”

“Think about it. We all agreed he only spends time with Gryffindors. So who is a half-blood Sirius spends most of his time with? Who did he write to the most over the summer? Who was he nervous about coming out to? Whose bed does he always end up lounging on when he has a perfectly good one of his own?” Remus felt the blood drain from his face as James continued. Peter was gaping at Remus, connecting the same dots. “And he wouldn’t say anything. You’re one of his best friends. We share a room. He wouldn’t tell me because he’d believe—rightfully—that I’d bully him into telling you.”

“But I don’t—I’m not in love with him,” Remus sputtered. “I would know if I was, wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, mate. Sometimes you’re a bit dense about feelings,” James said. He chuckled. “We all are, yeah?”

“And Sirius wouldn’t be in love with me,” Remus said. Old feelings of inadequacy, of being unworthy of friendship, floated to the surface. Sirius was so full of life, beautiful and passionate. And Remus was usually trying not to be noticed, hoping no one saw his insecurities and scars. Aside from his parents, the only people who really knew him were the Marauders. Sirius knew what kind of vicious creature he turned into once a month. He knew what Remus looked like when he hadn’t showered for three days. He knew Remus had never quite grasped the principle of coagulation in potions, something he should’ve learned in third year.

It didn’t make sense for Sirius to love him in spite of…all that Remus was.

It made sense for Remus to be in love with Sirius, of course, Sirius was amazing. But Remus wasn’t. He wasn’t so stupid as to fall in love with his best friend.

“Sirius does seem a bit out of your league—” Peter started to say before James leapt onto his head to shush him. “What? Remus knows what I mean.”

Remus did know. He and Peter had spoken of it before. Sirius was from wizarding aristocracy. Even James, whose family had wealth and pureblood, was considered beneath him. Being friends with Remus and Peter was really slumming it.

“That wouldn’t matter to Sirius—” James started to say, but Peter plucked the frog off his face and interrupted.

“I know! Actually, it seems like something Sirius would do just to annoy his family—date a half-blood werewolf,” Peter said.

Remus groaned. “This is ridiculous. He doesn’t—and I don’t! This is pointless.” He stood, storming off toward the bathroom.

“Just humor me and go kiss him!” James yelled. “It won’t hurt anything. I’ll kiss him, too! As moral support?”

Remus shut the door without answering. Because James didn’t understand. It would hurt something. Remus wasn’t sure he could handle kissing Sirius if it meant nothing. He wanted it to mean something, so badly. Far in the back of his mind, Remus fancied the idea of being the one capable of breaking the curse. But it was delusional. Like how Remus once hoped his own curse could be cured.

Remus wasn’t that lucky. And reality was cruel.

He didn’t think he could recover if he kissed Sirius and he remained in his cursed sleep.

#

That night, Remus had the strangest dreams.

It didn’t feel like a dream, exactly. More like a memory in a pensieve. There was a young woman, dressed similar to the Grey Lady, but the robes were bright and colorful. Her ebony hair was intricately braided and pulled back, emphasizing her bright blue eyes. Her lips were painted a bright red. She was gorgeous.

But her pretty face was contorted in misery as she spoke to an older couple who seemed to be her parents. The dialect was difficult to understand, the centuries between the memory and present day too great. They argued viciously, words spat back and forth.

In the end, the young woman stormed out of what turned out to be a large manor house, clutching her wand protectively. She raced through an ornate garden filled with various magical flora. She went up to a large gate—raising her wand as the gate refused to open. Her face contorted in panic, and she looked back at the large manor she’d left. Then she cast a stronger spell, bursting through the gate and down a path that led into the forest.

She ran, her long gown tangling and tearing in brambles, but she kept running until she’d cleared the forest. She then stood at the edge of a small muggle village. She paused, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. Then she ran down the hill to a modest thatch-roofed house.

She called for someone, and a handsome young man came out, a wand held discreetly at his side. A muggleborn wizard, maybe. He ushered her inside quickly, where they embraced as she cried into his shoulder. Remus could not understand, but he could tell the man was murmuring comforting words.

The man eventually had the woman sit down while he used his wand to start boiling some water on the fire. As his back was turned, the woman’s eyes suddenly went unfocused—vacant—in an unnervingly familiar way. She stood, walking toward the corner where a basket of wool and a spinning wheel were sat.

The young man turned around just in time to see his beloved stab her finger onto the spindle before she collapsed.

The dream wobbled, maybe jumping forward in time. The woman lay peacefully still on the bed in the man’s house, a plain blanket draped across her. The man sat at her side, a book in his lap, his wand held limply in one hand. His eyes were red-rimmed, like he’d been crying.

A knock on the door startled him.

Speaking through the door, another woman’s voice called out. The man took a defensive stance, holding his wand tightly, but he let the woman in. She looked remarkably like the sleeping woman on the bed, though her hair was more brown than black, and her eyes a stormy gray. Remus was sure they were sisters.

She looked at the man in disgust, barging past him to kneel beside her sister’s bed. She held her own wand, casting a spell, before sagging in palpable relief. She then turned to the man and spoke quickly, stepping out of his way. She continued to wear an expression of revulsion as the man walked hesitantly forward to the bed and leaned down—pressing a soft kiss to his sleeping lover’s lips.

The woman gasped awake, then twitched in alarm as she saw her sister standing in the room. She jumped to her feet, standing protectively between her lover and sister.

The second sister didn’t seem concerned. She explained herself abruptly and didn’t wait for an answer before she turned her wand on the house, casting a spell to neatly fold the blankets, then stacked the kitchenware. The man and woman joined her in packing the house.

Next the sisters hugged goodbye before the couple disappeared into the dark night, leaving an empty house behind. The dream followed the second sister back through the forest to the manor. As she walked, she paused beside a bramble bush, studying it contemplatively for a moment before she reached out and pinched a thorn between her fingers. A drop of blood formed as her eyes fluttered shut, knees buckling. She thumped to the forest floor, fast asleep.

The dream blurred again before resting on a girl with pale hair and gray eyes. Gone were the ancient looking robes. It seemed to be centuries forward from where Remus had been before. The girl was walking through a busy, muggle market, a basket in one arm. It looked to be summer—the grass green and vibrant. Then a familiar vacant look suddenly crossed her face as she saw a golden hairpin on display at one stall. Her arm reached out in front of her long before she reached it, and just like the others, she forcefully pricked her finger before collapsing.

Time rushed forward, showing the girl resting in a glass coffin in an opulent room. Remus quickly gathered the display was a warning to others. Family members passed through the room, many of them looking down at the girl in a mix of distaste and grief.

Then eventually, no one visited the room at all.

The first visitor in months was a girl with vibrant red hair. She was merely a teenager, just like the girl in the coffin. She crawled through a snow-covered window in the middle of the night, wand in hand. But her stealth did not get her past the house elf that appeared before her. Then suddenly a man—the sleeping girl’s father—stormed into the room wearing only his night clothes, wand sparking, eyes blazing.

A duel broke out between them. The house shook—the glass on the coffin cracked. Finally, the man was knocked back by a stunning spell, and the girl ran to the coffin. She vanished the glass, eyes flooding with tears, and she gently kissed the sleeping girl. She woke with a gasp, clutching what must be her lover into a desperate hug.

The last Remus saw of them, they were escaping into the night hand in hand.

The dream changed again, jumping forward centuries again. A young wizard walked along the beach, a black kneazle darting between his legs now and then, occasionally running to chase after birds. The wizard laughed, throwing his head back at the kneazle’s antics.

Then his dark eyes went vacant, body rigid. He stared at the ground where a rusty fishing hook protruded from the rocky sand. He pricked his finger and crumpled on the sand, unmoving. Remus wondered how long it would have taken anyone to find him if not for the kneazle. The feline circled its companion several times, waiting for the wizard to awaken. When he did not, the kneazle bolted down the beach.

When it returned, it brought a woman dressed in muted colors, an apron around her waist. She didn’t have a wand, and Remus wondered if she was a muggle. The woman touched the wizard’s cheek, then ran her hands around his head, seemingly searching for an injury. The kneazle batted at her hand in annoyance.

She looked at the kneazle helplessly, until at last, the feline’s pawing and yowling got its point across. The woman’s cheeks were pink as she hesitantly leaned to kiss the wizard.

But the magic worked, muggle or not, and the man’s dark eyes blinked open and into a surprised smile. He seemed as confused as his lover. Then he sat up, picking up the rusty fishing hook. He inspected it for a moment before grimacing and dragging it roughly across his palm. Blood seeped from the wound, and he tensed, bracing for the curse…

But he did not fall asleep. He looked at his lover in wonder before pulling her into his arms, ignoring her embarrassed protests. He kissed her passionately before laughing with pure joy.

The curse had been broken.

And then the dream twisted to a familiar room—the Marauders dormitory. But Remus wasn’t there, it was just the other three. They looked a little younger, maybe fifth year, based on how long Sirius’s hair was. He’d cut it last year.

“A dog! Isn’t that perfect?” Sirius was saying. “Remus is going to love it.”

“Better than a rat,” Peter sighed.

“It’s all right, mate. You’ll still be useful. And you were worried about getting up close to the werewolf teeth and all that, anyway. This way you can stay up and out of the way,” James said.

“A stag and a dog ought to be able to keep a werewolf occupied,” Sirius said, nearly vibrating with excitement. “But a dog is ideal, yeah? Canine language and all that.”

James snorted. “Are you trying to say your animagus form is better than ours?”

“For Remus,” Sirius said, flustered. “He’s going to be happy, that’s all.”

Then the vision changed to Remus and Sirius at the lake, sitting on the dock, and—oh. From a bystander’s perspective it looked very…romantic. They were leaning toward one another, even when they weren’t paying attention.

Remus remembered wanting to kiss Sirius so much—because as much as Remus wanted to deny it to himself and his friends…he was very much in love with him.

And then the desire to kiss Sirius took hold of him like a curse of its own. Remus was torn from sleep, tangled in his blankets. He ripped off the blankets and shoved on his shoes, noting the sun was just beginning to rise.

“Where are you going?” James asked, voice little more than a sleepy croak.

“Go back to sleep,” Remus said, hurrying to the door. “I’m off to humor you.”

It was lucky Remus didn’t run into anyone on his way to the hospital wing. He ran through the corridors, down staircases—entirely in his plaid pajamas. He probably looked like a mad man. And he felt mad, too. There was a growing urgency with every step. He needed to get to Sirius and kiss him. A compulsion. Had James or Peter done something to him in his sleep? Or was it part of the curse?

Remus was out of breath as he stumbled to a halt outside the hospital wing, fighting for composure so he could quietly enter without waking up any other students who might be there. Or alert Pomfrey to his presence.

The moment he got to the end of Sirius’s bed and saw him still peacefully asleep, the strange spell that had hold of Remus dissipated.

“This is just—a precaution. No stone unturned, right?” Remus whispered to himself, feeling creepy and awkward. It wasn’t like Sirius would care—or know—if it failed. Which it would. Because Remus was Remus, and it just didn’t make sense for anyone to love him—to love him so much they fell into a cursed sleep.

Strengthening his resolve with all the Gryffindor courage he could muster, Remus sat down at Sirius’s bedside. As he leaned down, he marveled at the way Sirius’s eyelashes fanned across his cheeks, how smooth and perfect his skin was, and how utterly kissable his lips were.

Not wanting to feel even more like a creep, Remus held his breath and slanted his lips across Sirius’s. For a split second, he wondered how long the kiss should last, or if there was anything in particular he should do, but he was too nervous to do more than a chaste, dry kiss.

Sirius inhaled sharply.

Oh, Merlin. It had happened. Remus had done it. Sirius was waking up.

Remus scrambled back into the chair beside the bed, trying to act casual but realizing he was in his pajamas and hadn’t even combed his hair yet.

Sirius sat up and looked around the room, disoriented. His gray eyes fell on Remus.

“Hey,” Remus said, adding a small wave to look extra foolish.

“What’d I miss?” Sirius asked, brow furrowing as he took in Remus’s disheveled state.

What a loaded question. Remus didn’t know what to say. There was probably a reason Sirius hadn’t told him, just like Remus, but there would be no hiding it for long. Sirius would discover he’d been out for two weeks and—and then he’d know how Remus felt about him, and what would that do to their friendship? He was suddenly terrified.

Then Sirius’s gaze fell to the small collection of gifts and cards on the bedside table.

Sirius blinked in bewilderment. “What’s all this?” His eyes widened in alarm. “How long was I asleep?” he asked, staring at Remus in shock. “Remus. How long?”

Remus reminded himself that he was a Gryffindor. “Um…about two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Sirius fell back onto the bed. “Could be worse, I guess. Wasn’t a hundred years.” He threw an arm over his eyes, hiding his expression.

“Sorry,” Remus said feebly.

Sirius laughed, borderline hysterically. “You should be sorry!” Then he reached out, tugging Remus onto the bed with him. “You let me lie around here for two weeks?”

“I didn’t know it was me!” Remus said, sheepish and pleased all at once because Sirius’s hands were suddenly on his waist, and they were sitting so close…

“I didn’t know you felt the same either, to be fair,” Sirius said, his hands tracing around to the small of Remus’s back. “You’re so good at hiding.”

“So are you. Since fifth year? Really?”

Sirius’s cheeks turned red. “What? How did you—”

“I had a dream about it. I think it was the curse calling me to you.” Remus paused. “No, not the curse. The counter curse.” Remus wondered if the red-haired girl he’d seen in the dream had felt the same compulsion. Enough to break into a house and duel a wizard to get to her lover. Otherwise, how would she have known what to do? The Blacks kept it so secret…

“I had those visions, too,” Sirius said, growing excited.

“You think they were real?”

“I do. Uncle Alphard once told me the original Black was cursed by her parents to die because she fell in love with a muggleborn.”

“But why do muggle objects trigger the breaking of the curse?”

“I think it was originally meant to be proof that muggles were dangerous—touching something muggle killed her. When the sister overrode their parents’ curse, she altered it so the muggle object caused sleep, not death.”

“The good fairy,” Remus murmured.

“Yes. And she added the kiss as a simple way to awaken her sister.”

“And she did that even though she disapproved of the relationship,” Remus said, remembering the look of disgust on her face. It made him think of Regulus, willing to help Sirius despite all the bad blood between them now, and he found himself recounting the conversation to Sirius. Remus thought Regulus had been worried, and maybe, if it had come to Sirius’s life, Regulus would make the same decision as the sister who countered the original curse.

“Maybe there’s hope for the kid yet,” Sirius said, offering an uncertain smile. “It still sucks I was the one to get this curse and not him, though.”

“But you’ve broken the curse, now,” Remus reminded him.

“You helped,” Sirius said. His eyes dropped to Remus’s mouth. “I can’t believe I slept through our first kiss.”

“It wasn’t that special,” Remus said with a laugh. “I felt like a creep.”

“Of course. You’re too noble to take advantage,” Sirius said, and then he was leaning forward, tilting his head to press their lips together. Sirius’s lips were so warm and soft. The kiss before had been too brief—a polite peck, to be honest. This kiss was different. A getting-to-know-you kiss. Because yes, Remus had known Sirius for years, but he had never known how he kissed, how he tasted, or what tempting noises he made when Remus ran fingers through his hair.

Suddenly they were too far apart, and Remus was nudging Sirius back on the bed, lining their bodies together, gasping into each other’s mouths. Sirius arched off the bed, moaning softly at the delicious pressure it caused.

“Probably not the best place to get carried away,” Remus panted, pulling back an inch.

Sirius’s gray eyes were half-lidded and the look he gave Remus was positively sizzling.

“What if just a kiss isn’t enough? You know, I’m feeling rather tired,” Sirius said mischievously. “You might need to be more thorough. Just to make sure the curse is really broken.” His hand slithered between them, cupping Remus through his thin pajamas. Remus shuddered in pleasure.

“Good idea,” he said, unable to resist thrusting against Sirius’s hand. “Wouldn’t want to be negligent of my curse-breaking duties.”

“Definitely,” Sirius said, pulling him down for another kiss that was hot and dirty and passionate.

By the time Pomfrey made her rounds, Remus and Sirius had made sure Sirius’s curse was good and broken—twice. And if Pomfrey noticed anything, she chose to ignore it in favor of celebrating Sirius waking from his curse.

#

Sirius was released from the hospital wing, and it was only when he and Remus stood outside the entrance to Gryffindor Tower that they realized how many questions they would have to answer. Everyone had known about the curse, and everyone would be equally interested in knowing how it was broken.

Luckily, there was no need to make any immediate decisions because Peter and James appeared at the entrance with the invisibility cloak. Sirius swept it over himself.

“I’m going to save my gloating until we’re upstairs,” James said smugly from Peter’s shoulder. “But I told you so, Moony.”

Remus gave a weary sigh. James was going to be insufferable.

#

It was easier becoming Sirius’s boyfriend than Remus expected. It was basically like being friends but with a lot of snogging and getting off in private. When they were hanging out in the common room, Remus could sit as close to Sirius as he wanted, basking in his warmth. Or Sirius could rest his head on Remus’s lap, and Remus could run his fingers through his silky hair and not only did Sirius not mind—he loved it.

When Sirius got his first papercut since the curse broke, he could only stare at the sliver of blood in wonder. “I can’t believe the curse is gone,” Sirius said, then he hugged Remus tightly. “I wish I could do the same for you.”

Remus smiled and nuzzled his nose into Sirius’s neck. “It’s not so bad with you by my side.”

“Ugh, I’ll leave you two alone,” James said, leaping down from his own bed. “Just…could one of you open the door?”

Because it had been months and while Lily was still the sweetest, most faithful girlfriend, James was still entirely amphibian.

“Sorry,” Remus said, pulling back from his boyfriend’s arms. “It’s your room too.”

James croaked irritably. “It’s fine,” he said, sounding like it wasn’t fine at all. But Remus got the feeling there was more to it than just his mates canoodling in front of him. “Peter won’t be back until curfew, I bet. I’ll go find Lily. She wanted to go over the prefects schedule with me, anyway.”

After James had hopped downstairs, Sirius turned to Remus with a guilty expression. “I feel bad. I was just rubbing it in his face that my curse was broken,” he said, holding up his cut finger.

“Not much you can do about that,” Remus reminded him. “And…I actually think it was the reminder of my curse that put him in a mood. A reminder that not all curses are broken.”

“Hmm,” Sirius said, nudging Remus back toward the bed until he fell back on it. “But…as much as I want to help James...”

“Of course,” Remus said, putting on a sober face as he noticed Sirius’s eyes gleaming impishly.

“And while I feel terrible, absolutely terrible,” Sirius said, his fingers creeping up Remus’s shirt. “It would be rude not to use this empty dorm he gifted us.”

Remus nodded. “It’s the polite thing to do.” He dragged Sirius down for a kiss.

#

Curfew came around, and Peter trudged in and looked around. “Have you seen James?”

Remus paused in confusion, halfway through buttoning his pajama shirt. “He wasn’t downstairs with Lily?”

“Didn’t see either of them,” Peter said.

A flash of guilt went through Remus. He hadn’t been a very good friend to James lately. So caught up in his new relationship with Sirius…

“Where’s the map?” Sirius asked. “I haven’t seen it in a while.”

“Now that you mention it, I haven’t either,” Peter said.

Remus groaned. “Well, now I won’t be able to sleep until we find it. It’s not like James has it.”

“Can you imagine?” Sirius laughed. “Maybe he could drag it by a foot? He’s sticky enough.”

Looking for the map kept the three of them busy for an hour, though they gave up the search before finding it. And James still hadn’t returned.

“I hope Lily hasn’t dumped him or something,” Peter whispered, worried.

Sirius cringed. “Damn, you don’t think she’d do that, do you?” he asked, turning to Remus.

“I don’t…I don’t think so,” Remus said, unable to hide his uncertainty. He thought Lily had really fallen for James, but the curse remained stubbornly in place, and he also knew how much pressure had to be on her to break the curse. Maybe she hadn’t been able to take it anymore.

“Let’s wait up for him? Just in case,” Peter said. Remus and Sirius agreed. If they were going to have to comfort James from his broken heart, it was going to take all three of them. And probably a lot of firewhiskey.

Peter valiantly stayed awake until just after midnight before he fell asleep on the book he’d been reading. Remus and Sirius were stretched out on Remus’s bed, playing a very lowkey card game, but once Peter started to snore, Remus also began nodding off.

Sirius dimmed the lights with his wand. “You should get some sleep. He’ll wake us when he needs let into the room.” Remus couldn’t argue with that, and he snuggled into Sirius’s chest and fell asleep without bothering with blankets or closing the curtains.

Remus wasn’t sure how long he was asleep, but he was jolted awake by James banging the door open and yelling, “Am I a man, or am I a frog, boys?”

“Ughhh, what is happening?” Sirius asked drowsily from beside Remus.

“I said, am I a man or am I a frog?” James yelled again.

Remus sat up quickly, blinking his eyes to focus on where James stood at the end of the bed.

Everything about James looked wild—from his messy hair to his slightly manic grin. His clothes, the same he’d worn on that fateful date with Lily, were horribly rumpled.

But he was human again. Not a spec of green in sight.

“You don’t look amphibian at the moment,” Remus said, grinning broadly.

“Yes! Because Lily Evans loves me!” he crowed.

Sirius whooped and jumped out of the bed, and suddenly all four of them were up and hugging and jumping, arms around one another like they were drunk.

“This is amazing!”

“Prongs is back!”

“No more writing Potter’s homework for him!”

“I can finally kiss my girlfriend!”

They kept shouting and cheering until they woke up the sixth-year boys next door, but when the sixth years saw what the fuss was about, they joined in and suddenly they were having a middle of the night party, bringing out firewhiskey and sweets, carrying on until dawn.

It was a night to remember.

Especially for James.

“She brought me up to her room so I could sleep on her pillow because I’d been complaining about you two and your incessant snogging—” James said, once it was just the four of them in the room again.

“Sorry,” Remus said guiltily.

“Don’t apologize,” James said with a devilish smirk. “She kissed me goodnight after getting into bed—and bam!”

“So…she had to share a bed with you?” Sirius asked, laughing. “Was that the condition?”

“It must have been,” James said. “Fucking hell, we both thought she was just feeling too much pressure to fall in love with me, but there was a secondary condition. Like my mum cooked dinner for my dad. That’s why it was so easy for him. Lucky bastard.”

“Well, I hope Evans made up for all these months you couldn’t kiss her,” Sirius said, tipping back the last of the firewhiskey straight from the bottle into his mouth.

“Lily doesn’t owe him—” Remus started to say.

“Oh, she did,” James said. “Why do you think I got back so late? We went to bed before curfew, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“No wonder you’re in such a good mood,” Remus said.

James sighed blissfully. “Lily loves me. I’m no longer a frog. It’s the best day of my life.”

“I’m glad the frog prince finally jumped on his lily pad. If you know what I mean,” Sirius said, giggling in the way he only did when he was a bit drunk.

James giggled along with him. “More like the lily pad jumped me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Remus said.

Peter snorted. “When the muggles retell this story, I hope they remember to give the frog prince his monocle.”

“Yeah, Sirius, where’s my monocle you were going to get me?” James asked.

“Give me your glasses,” Sirius said.

And that was how James broke his curse and went to breakfast in the Great Hall, hungover and wearing a monocle.