Chapter Text
Sirius had first seen the writing on his arm when he was very young. Though writing was a generous term for the doodles in marker that splashed up and down his non-dominant arm. It was a little early in life to have writing, at least according to what his nanny told him later. But it wasn't unreasonably early. It wasn't like he'd been born with writing. It was just that he hadn't even turned five and most people got their writing closer to ten.
Thankfully, the Blacks were of the old school when it came to manners and it was still considered only proper in their circles to wear long sleeves. Even his parents did, though it wasn't considered necessary for married couples. Sirius had learned from his nanny, a little too young to understand the significance, that this was because his parents weren’t soulmates. The writing on their arms didn’t belong to each other.
His nanny was the only way he’d gotten away with having writing on his arm so young. She’d been the one to bathe him and never told his parents. Which was kind of her. But she’d made a point of instructing him to not answer his soulmate in case his parents found out. She had always known where the bruises came from, even if she couldn’t tell anyone.
At such a young age still, the writing was mostly doodles and occasional words in what might have been Welsh. It certainly wasn’t the French or Latin he’d been tutored in. He never really knew how to respond anyway.
He was sent to board at Diagon Prep at age seven, where he met James Potter, one of the day students. For the first time, he had a real friend and was welcome to visit on weekends. The Potters were happy to tell him the truth of soulmates when he stared blankly back at them during any conversation about it. And when he went home for summer holidays, he was armed with truths his parents didn’t want him to have.
At sixteen, Remus Lupin was starting to worry that his soulmate would never write to him. He’d been drawing and writing, both in English and Welsh, since his mother had told him about soulmates. He had a vague memory that she'd once seen some kind of mark on his arm. But the longer he went without response, the surer he became that his mother had only seen a stray mark from his own colouring, if she'd seen anything at all. The person on the other end had never answered.
For a while, when he was at his most ill in the hospital, he wondered if he was going to die and that was why he didn’t have a soulmate, because no contact by age fifteen was very uncommon and it was usually seen as a bad sign. Sometimes he wondered if his soulmate had died. Or maybe just didn't want him. But he reminded himself, even on the hardest days, to stay positive. Stranger things had happened.
Thanks to his insomnia, Remus occasionally found himself wide awake at two or three in the morning. He sighed and rolled over in bed.
There, on his arm, words began to bloom in smooth black ink.
I used to build dreams about you
He pulled a pen from the cup on his desk, just within reach of his bed and scrawled beneath it - Fitzgerald .
Then nothing.
He watched the words on his arm for nearly fifteen minutes before they began to fade. The part his soulmate had written was nearly gone, but his addition had only lightened, unable to be fully washed off from the receiving side. He decided to leave it there.
Remus’s soulmate didn’t write again for almost a week. And when they did it wasn’t happy. It was sad, dark poetry that made Remus want to cry, scrawled in cursive across his forearm at nearly three in the morning. He didn’t reply this time, not wanting to frighten the soul on the other end away again. The next night, sleep schedule still absolute shit, but arm free of writing, Remus wrote back.
I’m sorry
He wasn’t entirely sure what he was sorry for. Perhaps for frightening his soulmate away, or surprising them, or colouring on their arm too much as a child, or not being what they needed, or just making them stuck with him. But he wanted his soulmate to be well and happy.
In the morning, when he finally got out of bed, Remus found his apology faded, but a very tiny heart had been drawn beside it. He kept it all day.
That night, in the small hours, writing bloomed across his arm again.
Do you think it’s possible to have money and a big house and lots of expensive stuff and still be unhappy? Or does that just make you ungrateful?
Remus furrowed his brows. It was a strange question, but he felt its weight. Especially given the hour. This was the time of night for deep thoughts and painful musings.
I think it depends on the situation , Remus wrote. Money isn’t a replacement for love and happiness. It doesn’t fix depression anymore than crowds fix loneliness
He waited for a response for a few minutes. Just as he was about to give up and try harder to sleep, his soulmate began writing back
I feel like I’m trapped in a cage. But everyone looks in and sees a mansion
Remus frowned and wrote, A gilded cage is still a cage
It was another few minutes before his soulmate responded.
You’re a boy, aren’t you?
Yes, why? Remus didn’t understand the sudden change in topic, but his soulmate was actually writing to him, communicating for the first time, so he was going to roll with it.
That’s the problem, so am I
Okay , Remus wrote, trying to feel out the problem. Some soulmates are platonic. I’m bi, but if you’re not into boys, that’s alright. It doesn’t have to be romantic
I am, that’s the problem. Some soulmates are platonic but we’re not. I can’t be with you, I’m sorry
It hurt. Like a knife between his ribs. All the fluttery butterflies that had swarmed his stomach the moment his soulmate started replying died swift, fluttery deaths. The buzzing under his skin that ached for this boy sizzled and snapped and stopped. The tiny little things he hadn’t noticed, but had told him this was so much more than platonic, were gasping their dying breaths.
This is your cage? He wrote with shaking fingers.
My cage is a cathedral. Gilded like an altar with candles and crosses and frowning parents
Remus bit his lip and grasped for words.
I’m not very religious, but I understand why some people are. I just think that a god who makes people in his image wouldn’t make people gay or transgender or nonbinary just to condemn them. It’s not god that told you you’re wrong, it’s people. God didn’t make religion. People did.
Interesting take for someone who isn’t religious
The words had a bite. Sharp like the letters now adorning his arm.
I think spirituality and religion are different. I don’t need to pray in a church to feel something greater than myself. There are stars and trees and mountains. I can stand at the ocean and feel as small as someone does when they talk to their god
You must be older than me, to have this all figured out
I’m 16 , Remus wrote. But I’m homeschooled, so Mum and I decided to add one interesting extra class each year. Last year was comparative religion
Of all things, why that?
Because we’re not religious, but religious conflict is everywhere in history. And current social issues. Mum’s a crusader. We march in 3 Pride parades a year, even before I came out
She sounds cool
She is, Remus wrote back. She was a teacher before I got ill. Quit to teach me at home. I guess you go to school somewhere?
Yeah, boarding school. Since primary. It’s nice, better than home. I just turned 17, so we’re probably in the same year. You’re just a nerd
Proudly , Remus wrote back with a little smiley face to make it clear he wasn’t offended.
I’m sorry I’m keeping you up
You’re not, I couldn’t sleep. My schedule is weird
Ok
Another minute passed.
Look, I like you and I think you seem pretty cool. And maybe you’re right about the gilded cage. But I don’t think I can really handle this with my family stuff. Maybe someday in the future, but just not right now. I’m sorry
It still hurt, of course it did. But Remus couldn’t begrudge him. He didn’t know the situation, but it seemed bad. Rich, religious, homophobic parents could kick him out.
It’s okay. You need to stay safe more than I need you to talk to me at 4am
Thanks. I really am sorry
I know. I believe you. Can I at least know your name?
I think it’s better if we don’t do that. Too much temptation to look for each other in real life. I’m just gonna call you Moony in my head, since we’ve only talked under the light of the moon
Which just made Remus want to cry and hug him. His soulmate would be thinking of him, even if they couldn’t talk. That was something.
I don’t know what to call you
Padfoot, it’s my nickname at school
There’s a story there
I’ll tell you one day. Until then, I’d rather we not talk like this. I’m scared my family will see someone else’s writing on my arm and freak out
Okay, but I want you to know I’m always here. Even if we don’t talk for a decade, I’ll still be here
Thank you Moony. Is it okay if I sometimes jot things down on this arm? I don’t always have a piece of paper...and sometimes it’s better to write than do other things when I can’t sleep
It’s always okay. I’ll keep it covered if you prefer, but I like knowing you’re there
You deserve better than me. The words were wobbly and hard to read, smudgy like maybe Padfoot was crying and the ink had run.
We deserve each other. I deserve to have my soulmate, and so do you. Please don’t sell yourself short
I’ll try, but only because you’re so nice and you shouldn’t be alone
It’s okay if I’m your starting point, but I want you to believe in yourself for yourself, not just for me. Either way, I’m here for you. And if we need to talk and then wash it all off so your parents can’t see, that’s alright too
Thank you Moony. I think we should sleep, but can we wash this off first?
Sure , Remus wrote and drew a little heart. It was the last he’d get to send in a while, probably.
He was right. Padfoot didn’t write to him to talk for the rest of the school year. Sometimes, when Remus couldn’t sleep, he watched poetry bloom across his arm. He’d taken to copying it all into a notebook that he’d titled ‘Padfoot’ and hidden in his bedside table. On nights when Padfoot didn’t write to him, he’d pull it out and read a few verses. Some felt more like songs. Most had queer themes or religoius imagery used sardonically. One night he’d written three new verses to ‘Hallelujah’, all of which broke Remus’s heart.
When summer came, Remus kept himself mostly confined to long sleeved shirts, just in case. But Lily had come to visit, so eventually he had to talk about it.
“Did they finally start writing to you, then?” she asked, nodding at his sleeves once they were ensconced in the den with cold lemonade.
“Sort of. I can’t write back because he has a bad home life and is afraid of what his parents will do. They’re religious, we’re both male.” Remus shrugged. “He writes poetry some nights.”
“I’m sorry, Rem,” she said, tucking herself beside him. “One of my friends at school has parents like that.” She shuddered. “He got drunk one night at a party and by the time I got him upstairs to his dorm, he was ranting to me and his roommate about how awful they are and how they’re going to murder his soulmate so he can marry some distant relation, like some creepy aristocratic mafia.”
“That’s horrible,” Remus said, thinking of his own soulmate’s struggles. It baffled him how some people would forbid real soulmate marriages just to fake convenient ones. “I’m sorry he’s going through that too. I don’t understand how people can be like that. How they can go through life and not feel the fluttering in their chest when their soulmate writes to them. Even when he writes sad poetry, I still get butterflies just because he’s writing and he knows I’m here reading it.”
Lily bit her lip. “I know, I feel that too. I think my friend’s roommate might be my soulmate.”
“Said roommate wouldn’t be the irritating James, would it?” Remus teased.
“Shut up. He was so nice when I came upstairs carrying his drunken lump of a friend. I was standing there listening to Siri go on about how he was going to run away and become a rockstar as soon as he could, no matter what his parents said. And James was just smiling so softly and nodding along like it was all okay, not to worry, it’ll all turn out fine.” She shrugged and hid a smile. “And it’s not like the handwriting on my arm isn’t familiar.” Lily had had writing on her arm for years, but the guy on the other end was the sappiest person ever, according to her. She’d told him to stop being ridiculous half a hundred times and he never got any less sappy.
“Are you going to tell him?” Remus asked. He was desperate for some quality soulmate gossip.
“Maybe when we go back in September. I’m going to write to him over the summer and maybe we can start on better terms.”
“Why are you so smart?” Remus teased. “I just said okay, I understand that you feel like you’re in a cage, don’t worry about me, take care of yourself.”
“I think you did the right thing,” Lily said, voice small. “He knows you care about him.”
“Yeah, but what if he doesn’t speak to me for years?”
“Start your relationship with him then.”
Remus sighed. “I know,” he said. “I told him I’d still be here, even if he ignored me for a decade, but Lils, I don’t know if I can read his sad poetry for a decade and not do anything to help him.” She wrapped an arm around his middle. “I cry half the time as it is. I’ve only known him for a few months.”
“You don’t really know him now. Do you even know his name?”
“No, just that he’s in our year, a few months older than me, and has rich, religious parents. He gave me his nickname, but that’s not exactly something I can Google.”
“I guess not.”
“But I do know him in some way. I don’t know his name or his favourite colour or his favourite subject in school. I don’t know if he’s a dog person or if he collects pretty rocks or any of that. But reading the things he writes is a totally different kind of intimacy that I’m never going to have with another person. I know something about his heart that I could never learn by asking his favourite colour.”
Lily just held him tighter. It was really what he needed. There were no words to describe how powerless he felt in the face of Padfoot’s sorrow.
Remus and Lily spent half their summer together before her family left their cottage to go back to Cokeworth. After that, Remus settled himself to reading, and writing entrance essays for university. He read all kinds of poetry, strange, delightful classics, and a lot of fantasy. He decided to study English Literature, with perhaps some sociology or gender studies or history tossed in. He liked the idea of exploring the cultural landscape of literature. Like Dorian Grey being portrayed negatively due to historical intolerance for homosexuality. Or imperialist attitudes present in some Victorian literature. He thought a survey of similar examples might make a nice graduating thesis.
Padfoot wrote him poetry and songs late into the night still. But he hadn’t written to talk since that night.
On the night of November 2nd, he did.
I’m free Moony
Remus stared at his arm.Then at the clock. It was midnight, almost to the minute. Early for them.
It’s now officially my birthday I’m 18
Happy Birthday Padfoot
Thanks! I wanted to talk to u tonite + tell u I’m leaving home. I’m staying at school for xmas hols + when I graduate I’m not going back
I’m proud of you
That means a lot to me. My best mate is the only other person who’s proud of me for doing anything
You’ll always have me, proud of you for just being you
Idk what I did to deserve u as a soulmate
You’re you, that’s all. I know it’s been a lot of me supporting you so far, but I’m no picnic either. I just have parents to rely on that you don’t
I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you
Don’t be, I understand. There’s nothing to forgive
If u say so but I feel bad that I haven’t been there + I feel bad that I still don’t feel ready to do this for real
I know it doesn't change how you feel, but I don’t want you to feel bad for not being here. You are here, half the time I’m reading your poetry to fall asleep. I would like to talk to you, but I understand and I don’t feel like you’ve abandoned me
Ok but if u need me u can write to me. I don’t think I’m ready to do the regular relationship thing but that doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know if something important happens. I do.
I promise I’ll tell you, then. Thank you for being here for me, Padfoot
Always <3
They didn’t really talk again for a while, just exchanging greetings on Christmas and New Years and Padfoot writing poetry and what might have been song lyrics some nights. They weren’t as dark and worrying as they had been. He sometimes wrote about gilded cages. Sometimes about missed connections. He still used a lot of religious imagery, but in that same subversive way that Remus found he enjoyed.
On March 10th, Remus wrote a little note to Padfoot.
It’s my 18th birthday today
It took less than a minute for him to respond.
Happy Birthday Moony!!
Thanks!
A few minutes passed with no response, so Remus thought Padfoot wasn’t up for more conversation tonight. It would’ve been a nice birthday present, but he would survive.
Can I give u a gift?
Sure, what is it?
I write stuff sometimes, songs + poems, u know
Oh, did Remus know.
I’ve been writing something since I left. It’s not finished but some of the parts are for u or inspired by our talk + I want to write them for u if that’s ok?
Yes, I would love that. Thank you!
Padfoot didn’t respond, but he began writing around Remus’s wrist.
If the heavens ever did speak
He’s the last true mouthpiece
Every Sunday’s getting more bleak
A fresh poison each week
~~
Take me to church
I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life
~~
Idk where this line goes yet but I thought of u when I wrote it:
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin
You’re a beautiful writer. I keep your poems and songs in a notebook, even when they make me cry
I’m sorry I don’t write happier things
But you take pain and turn it into something beautiful. I wish your pain would ease, but what you do with it is a gift
Do u think other people would like my style? I have other stuff I write. With u I mostly write stuff that’s too private to share with anyone else. But my less private stuff sounds kinda the same
I do. I think your religious imagery is really interesting and effective. The way you use it to critique organized religion is clever and very poetic
Do u think I could get away with being cagey about pronouns? Or just straight up writing queer themed stuff? I left my parents, idk that I want to go back in the closet
I think the world is a lot more open to that than your parents would like to admit. There’s a big contingent of the LGBTQ+ community that would be into religiously subversive stuff
Thanks Moony, I appreciate ur insight + I hope u liked ur mini-gift
I love it
Last question, do u think I could get away with ‘poetically’ writing about sex?
Plenty of pop songs do, so yes
U probably have questions + idk that I can give u answers
Don’t feel bad, please. I won’t ask for more than you can give. What you’ve given me tonight is more than I had hoped for
Someday, it’ll be your birthday and I’ll take you to a nice dinner. Then we’ll come home and there will be wine or something and your favourite dessert.
Chocolate cake
Lol, there will be chocolate cake. Then I'll kiss you and we’ll go to bed, where we'll have weird, nerdy talks in between fantastic sex. One day, that will be our life. And I’m really sorry it isn’t today
I’m really looking forward to that someday
Happy Birthday Moony! Good night <3
Thank you for everything Padfoot <3
They didn’t properly talk again before graduation, nor did they discuss specifics of university. Padfoot said he was studying music, but left it at that, so Remus followed suit. Unfortunately, Lily was going to London to study medicine at the same university as James, her soulmate for sure now. And Remus was just going up the road to Aberystwyth for university, not even leaving Wales. Not even leaving the familiar. He’d been in hospital there a few times when he was younger.
One late night during freshers week, Remus undressed in his room after a party to find Padfoot writing on his arm.
For you Moony:
Hands that kiss hymns up your sides
He confesses how long he’s looked
For a place to worship, and
Oh,
You put him on his knees.
…
He says his prayers between your thighs
And you dig your heels into his spine
Until he blushes the colour of your filthy tongue.
You will ruin him and he will say thank you;
He will say please.
A pause that dragged out forever in Remus’s tipsy head.
It’s always supposed to be for you. I’m sorry
It’s beautiful, don’t be sorry . A not as tipsy brain cell fired and Remus added to his response. No matter what led to you writing this, don’t be sorry
I wanted it to be with you. It would have been better with you
It will be, one day. But until then, don’t be sorry, please
He drew the single bracket he usually did when making notes on a text around the lines about worship and putting him on his knees. Then he added a quick comment.
This is brilliant! V evocative!
Ur the ‘you’ in this one
He left it at that and Remus fell into bed confused and hard at the idea of putting Padfoot on his knees and teaching him a different kind of worship.
For a while, Remus only received the normal kinds of late night poetry. Rather than the regretful, possibly post-coital kind. Remus didn’t like to think of it, but he also didn’t think he had any claim on Padfoot at this point in their very distant acquaintance. But he could tell Padfoot felt guilty over it, so he didn’t mention his mixed feelings. The next strange verse came in the wee hours one morning as Remus plugged away at an essay.
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know
I slithered here from Eden, just to sit outside your door
Idk where u are Moony but I wish I was there with u instead. I wish I was ready to be there
Padfoot? This is beautiful, but I’m worried about you
Don’t be. Just drunk and maudlin. I’ll stop writing stuff like that
It’s okay, don’t stop. I just wish I could do more than tell you how beautiful the things you write me are
U sure?
Of course, I love when you write to me. Is there someone with you? I don’t like the idea of you being sad and alone
My best mate is home, I just got in
If you ever want to talk about stuff, we can
I want to but I don’t. Idk if I can talk to u about that til I can be with u. It wouldn’t be fair. Are u alone?
Right now, yeah. Just writing an essay
I’m sorry for writing u while drunk so often. I should stop
As long as you’re safe, it’s okay
I’m still sorry but I’m glad we’re okay. Good night Moony
Night Padfoot
Remus went to classes as normal, had lunch with his new friend Alice, and wondered about Padfoot when his mind was otherwise idle. Alice had become a good friend, not Lily level, but still close. Eventually, she got a little of the Padfoot story out of him. She agreed with him that Padfoot was probably just going a little wild now that he was out from under his parents’ thumb. He still worried though, and still copied his poetry into his rapidly filling notebook.
Some verses that appeared on his arm seemed to be parts of unfinished things that had been written before. Others seemed to be new or single lines. They almost never had accompanying notes anymore, which Remus wasn’t sure whether to be glad or sad about.
It wasn’t until nearly Christmas that he got another note that concerned him.
HI MOON!!!!!
Hi Padfoot, you ok?
SOOOO WARM!! LEAVING A PARTY! MADE NEW FRIENDS!!!
I’m glad you found some friends. You seem kinda hyper tonight
NEW FRIENDS GAVE ME SUMTHIN
What did they give you?
DUNNO
Padfoot, are you high right now? What did you take?
TOLD U MOON IDK
Remus exhaled sharply through his nose. He already didn’t like these new friends.
You shouldn’t take mystery drugs from random people. Please don’t do that again.
It took a long moment for Padfoot to reply. So long that Remus thought he should have waited to say it in the morning.
Sorry Moony
I understand wanting to go out and be wild, but please don’t do reckless things that might mean we never get to meet
Didn’t think of that. I’m going home now, promise
I didn’t expect you to just abandon your friends because of something I said
Ur right, they’re random people. Idk them, just lonely + went looking for a party. Got drunk + they gave me sumthin + it was good + I hooked up with 1 of them but I always feel like shit after bc I go home + write to u + it’s just wrong
It’s alright if you go out and have fun or hook up sometimes. We’re not dating, Padfoot. We’re a future thing, we agreed on that. But I want you to make it to our future.
He chewed on the end of his pen for a few seconds before he added.
I was really ill for a long time Padfoot. I didn’t think I was going to make it to our future and it would be awful if I did but you didn’t
I’ll be there. I swear
Fifteen minutes later, Padfoot wrote back again.
I’m home now. Alone but I’m not that high anymore. Can I write u something tmw?
Of course, I love when you write to me
It’ll be late, I’m playing a gig tmw nite. It’s a crap date for a gig + crap pay in a pub but it’s my first
I’ll be thinking of you. You’ll do well, I know it
The next night at nearly two in the morning, Remus watched his arm bloom with dark ink.
Without changing a part of me
How do I get to heaven?
All my time is wasted
Feeling like my heart’s mistaken, oh
So if I’m losing a piece of me
Maybe I don’t want heaven
Sorry it’s not super happy but I really like this one
It’s beautiful anyway. I’m proud that you’re accepting yourself more now, though. How was the gig?
Really good. There were only a few people in the pub but they were all into it. I imagined u were there, hope that’s ok
It’s always okay. You can always imagine me there in the front row. I am in spirit
I’m gonna from now on. Thank u Moony, ur the best!
Always <3
Can I ask a question and then not talk about it again? I’m really curious and I’m still not ready for a real relationship, but I can’t stop myself caring and thinking about it constantly
You can always ask, but I might not answer
Fair, you said you were really ill for a while. You said a long time ago that’s why you were homeschooled. But you’re in uni now. So, how are you doing? Are you well or is it just manageable? I just want to know something so I’m not worrying over nothing
I was diagnosed with leukemia when I was nine. I was in hospital and really, really ill for a long time. But I’ve been in remission for just over five years. Every time I got ill after that, I’d end up in hospital for a day or two for observation. But the chances of it returning are pretty low now
Thank u for telling me, I’m sorry u had to go thru all that
Being ill was tiring and boring, but it was rough on my parents. Mum and I got closer, Dad and I got distant. That was harder to deal with than just sitting in a hospital bed most of the time
I get why she stayed home to teach u. One day I’ll tell u more about my family but right now I’m gonna try to sleep. I’m sorry again about last night
It’s already forgiven. Sweet dreams, Padfoot
Good night Moony
Christmas came and went much the same as the previous year. The spring term came and went much as the year previously had. Padfoot seemed to drink and party less and wrote fewer depressing poems about sex on his arm, which just gave Remus even more mixed feelings. He didn’t want to be the reason his soulmate was denying himself. But he also didn’t really want someone else touching his soulmate. He chose to say nothing about it. Padfoot still rarely talked to him in normal conversational messages.
He relayed news, like his best mate getting engaged, and moving out into his own flat. One night he even wrote:
Not convo, just news. Dropping out for better job. Night Moony
Remus didn’t reply because he understood Padfoot was asking him not to.
The year that followed was both comfortingly familiar and disorientingly alien. Padfoot’s hours continued to be late and he continued to write little else but lines from songs or poems he was writing. He never wrote messages to Remus anymore. Remus took the hint. It hurt, but he assumed Padfoot was working through things. He wanted to give him space and let him grow. And apparently to write because he always seemed to have inkstained fingers.
He trudged through the wet roads toward his study session with Alice, still seeing the words Padfoot hadn’t washed off their shared arm. It was late April, exams were soon, and he was just tired.
“Remus,” Alice said, waving him over to the table in their usual cafe. His mocha was waiting in front of the empty chair.
“Thanks Al,” he said, taking a sip as he sat.
“You look like you need it. Soulmate keep you up late?”
“No, just insomnia. Shall we get to it?” He slipped off his jacket, but it was still a little too warm in the cafe. Overheated to compensate for the chilly day.
Alice hummed quietly to herself as she marked passages to use later. Her fingers tapped against the book in time with the music in her head. It must have been good to come out of her like this. He smiled.
“What’re you humming?” he asked after she’d hummed it for the third time.
“Oh! Sorry, it’s this newish song. Got pretty popular, but I know you don’t follow anything new,” she teased. He let her tell him about how her soulmate Frank had stumbled across it from a friend and shared it with her while he rolled up his sleeves to combat the warmth of the cafe. “You’ve heard it, or your soulmate has,” she said suddenly.
“Huh?” She pointed to his arm where two snug lines of Padfoot’s handwriting sat.
The only heaven I’ll be sent to
Is when I’m alone with you
He’d thought it was a continuation of a poem or song Padfoot had been writing some time ago, possibly the one he’d written to Remus on his eighteenth birthday. Which was two years ago now, so maybe that wasn’t the best assumption. Maybe the one he'd written to Remus after his first gig made more sense.
He pulled up Spotify on his laptop. “What’s it called? I want to listen to it.” She turned the laptop, typed ‘Take Me to Church’ in the search bar and let him listen. The voice crooning from his headphones was honeyed and smooth, but desperate. The lines on his arm were in it, but part of the first verse and the chorus were definitely too familiar to not be something Padfoot had written him. Maybe he’d got a job as a songwriter. He typed the song title and artist’s name, Sirius Black, into Google while he listened.
Music and lyrics by Sirius Black. Well fuck.
“What do you think?” Alice asked when he finished.
“I think we should take our stuff and go back to my dorm.”
“Why?” she asked, completely baffled.
His gaze was desperate when he finally looked up. “Can I explain there?”
“Yeah, okay. Go buy us more coffee and I’ll pack up.”
Back in Remus’s narrow residence room, he pulled the battered, mostly full notebook from his bedside table. Alice looked from him to the cover with an expression of polite befuddlement. He sighed.
“I told you my soulmate writes poetry and stuff to me because of personal reasons. That we’ve never met and don’t know each other’s names.” She nodded. She’d asked early on in their friendship and slowly gleaned details about the situation. Remus opened the notebook and flipped to his birthday, two years previously. “He wrote this.”
Alice scanned the page, noting the very familiar chorus and verse. Even the floating line had made it in. Her gaze jumped up to Remus.
“Sirius Black is your soulmate. He’s touring this album right now and he’s your soulmate.”
“Seems like it,” Remus breathed.
“Well, let’s cyberstalk then.” A shocked laugh escaped Remus. Trust Alice to know exactly what to do. He wanted to introduce her to Lily.
An hour later, Remus and Alice had listened to the rest of the songs on the album, most of which matched at least a few lines Remus had copied into his notebook. They’d also discovered that Sirius had dropped out of university in London the previous year, as Remus already knew, that his birthday was November 3rd, as Remus remembered, that he never talked about his family in interviews, and that he’d gone to Hogwarts Academy, the same boarding school as Lily. Remus almost couldn’t believe it. Except for that conversation the summer after Padfoot had started writing to him. About her friend with family problems. Had she called him Siri?
Alice sat with him while he called Lily.
“Remus! Hey, is everything alright? You don’t usually call, especially not around exams.”
“I’m fine-ish, thanks Lil.” He took a breath. “Before I ask, I want you to know that if you don’t answer me, I’m going to take the train to London and beat down your door until you do.”
“Uh...okay?”
“Did you know Sirius Black in school?”
“Oh, that wasn’t what I expected,” she said. “Yeah, I knew him pretty well. He’s James’s best mate. We used to hang out last year, well, after he stopped partying so much.”
Remus swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “Remember when we talked about my soulmate that first summer?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Was Sirius the friend with the family problems?”
“Remus, I know that he’s—”
“I will beat down your door, Lily. Tell me.”
He’d never taken that tone with her before. Her breath drew in sharply. Angry and surprised that he would act like he could order her to do anything, but he didn’t care. This was important and she would understand.
“Yes, okay? It was. Sirius’s parents are horrible. Why else do you think he writes so many dark ‘fuck you’s to religion?”
“Because he’s gay and his parents are religious homophobes. He left his family literally the day he turned eighteen. He’s been writing Take Me to Church for at least two years. And the December before he dropped out he went to a party because James wasn’t home and hooked up with someone and they gave him mystery drugs. He hasn’t really partied like that since.”
There was perfect silence on the other end. Then Lily drew in a rattling breath.
“How do you know that?”
“Because he wrote lines from that song to me for my eighteenth birthday. Because he wrote to me as he left the party and I was not happy that he let some rando drug him with who knows what in god knows what dose. He had a gig the next night.”
“Oh god, he’s your soulmate. I should’ve seen that.”
Remus sighed. “I just thought it was a coincidence.”
“He’s on tour, maybe we should deal with that when he comes back. I’m sorry, Rem. I don’t want to disrupt him. It’s all so new, he doesn’t know how to manage it yet.”
“He hasn’t said that he wants a relationship with me yet,” Remus said.
“He does,” Lily said. “He just doesn’t think he’s good enough. Look, I’m going to call him tomorrow. If he’s doing well, maybe you can let him know that you know who he is, but leave the rest alone for now. He’s not going back in the closet, so that won’t be his issue, okay?”
“Alright, but I’m going to wait until after exams to talk to him.”
Once he hung up, Alice squeezed him in a tight hug. Remus pushed himself through revising for two days until Lily called him back.
“Hey Rem, you’re on speaker with me and James.”
“Hi Remus, nice to meet you.”
“Hi James, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All of it probably true,” James laughed.
“How are you doing?” Lily asked.
“I’m revising for an exam, slowly, but I’m handling it kind of okay. As long as I ignore the fact that I walked into the student union yesterday and his song was playing, and that I actually know some of the conversations that sparked some of those lines. Then yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine that my soulmate performed on Ellen and Graham Norton and the Late Show.”
“Breathe Rem,” Lily said. He did, slowly. His finger traced the lines from the song that were still inked onto his arm.
“So, we talked to Padfoot. Sorry, Sirius—”
“It’s okay, James. I’ve been calling him Padfoot. He didn’t want to exchange names back when we were in school.”
“Right, well, we talked to Pads and he’s doing okay but he’s trying to get through without talking to you because he feels like he’s lying to you. That’s what I got from it. And I think he feels bad that your conversations are all on his terms, like he made you feel bad for initiating or something.”
“I just didn’t want to overwhelm him,” Remus said. “He seemed so uncertain. He needed space to be himself first.”
“Now I think he needs you,” Lily said. “And he’s afraid to ask, god knows why. He said you were always there for him, even when he didn’t know he needed you.”
“He said some things about hooking up and feeling bad because you knew what he’d done or something, but that’s just his parents' slut shaming rearing up inside his head,” James added.
Remus hummed, uncertain that was completely right. “Yeah, he’s mentioned that. And I can admit that I feel kind of possessive over him, but I have a future claim on him, not a present one. I’ve told him multiple times that I don’t mind.”
“I think you should mention it when your exams are over,” Lily said. “I think he’ll be okay, even if he doesn’t think so.”
“Right, okay. Thanks for checking on him,” Remus said.
“We’re always here for both of you,” James said. “And I really want to thank you, Remus, for everything you’ve said to him since you started writing. I know it’s helped him.”
“I’m always happy to be here for him, and for both of you. I’ve gotta get back to revising, though. I’ll let you know how it goes with Sirius.”
Somehow, Remus struggled through his exams. Even though he heard his soulmate crooning about their relationship and the injustices of the church everywhere he went. Frank and Alice were the only ones who knew why he sometimes just needed to sit down when he heard the song.
At an end of term party, Remus got into a heated discussion with some English bloke named Benjy about Sirius's music. He'd written a short piece on the album for the school paper after the single blew up and Remus had a bone to pick.
"He's a one hit wonder and nothing more," Benjy said.
"You're just wrong. Take Me to Church has just overshadowed the rest of the album," Remus argued.
"Yeah, because moody, horny, religious themed music is so popular," Benjy shot back.
" Queer, horny, religious themed music," Remus corrected. "There's clearly an audience for it or he wouldn't be selling out shows."
Alice tugged on his elbow. "Rem, let's just leave it."
"Negging is pretty 2004, mate. D'you wanna just go upstairs and fuck out our differences?" Benjy asked, so smug you'd almost think he'd handed Remus his arse with some stunning feat of logic rather than trying to get a hate fuck out of it.
"No!" Remus shouted. He'd messed around with a bloke during freshers week, but it was different. He hadn't wanted to go that far with Padfoot's poetry on his arm, and he really didn't want to now that he knew his name.
This time, Alice was able to drag him away. He grumbled an apologetic goodbye to her and walked back to his room where he undressed and flopped into bed. On his arm were a few lines from one of the bonus tracks on Sirius's album.
I wanna be free, I wanna be loved
I wanna be more than you're thinking of
You are, Remus wrote back. I'm here, my exams are over and I'm here. A little drunk, but here
For long moments, there was no response. Then dark ink bloomed across his skin again.
I'm sorry I've been so absent this year
Don't apologize, I've been busy too, but you're always welcome to talk to me. I treasure the things you write
You can talk to me too. I didn't mean to make it seem like you had to wait for me to start it
Can I tell you a secret then?
Always
I heard your song, and now I hear it everywhere
I wondered when that would happen. What'd u think?
Padfoot, you know what I think of your writing. Your voice is just as beautiful. I went home right after Alice played it for me and we listened to the whole album, it's amazing!
Thanks Moony, it means a lot coming from u
Another secret, I was just at a party and I got into it with a bloke from the school paper about how he underrated your album
Moony! You don't have to get into fights for me!
But I will anyway <3
That is both hilarious and horrifying, no more fighting for you
Only for you
Makes me all tingly that u stick up for me tho, even to some school paper twerp
Good, I feel the same about you recording a song you wrote partially for me
All for you <3 Did you win the argument?
Considering he had to resort to telling me that negging wasn't cool and we should shag to settle our differences, yes. I won with logic
Did you shag him? Sirius wrote a long minute later, words shakier than they had been.
Of course not, he was an arse who said shit about my soulmate
As always, ur the best Moony. So u kno my name now, can I kno urs?
Remus Lupin, feel free to cyberstalk me
I'm gonna add u on all my accounts but I still wanna talk to u here, is that ok?
Yeah, Padfoot, it's wonderful. And I don't want to disrupt your tour schedule, but you can definitely write to me whenever
So can u, I'm absolutely terrified about all this but my best mate says running away won't make it less scary. I think he's right but I'm not telling him that
Obv not, lol, I'm going to bed Pads. Night <3
Good night Moony <3