Sunscreen and Fireflies

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter universe all rights belong to J.K. Rowling, I make no profit from the writing of this story. Additionally, if the thought of two men together upsets you, please find something else to read.

AN: Back with another chapter! I hope you all enjoy it, and please feed the author with reviews.
Enough of my yammering, on to the story!

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The next morning in charms, Remus felt like death warmed over, the full moon was fast approaching, and he was frustrated. Frustrated and lonely, but he supposed that was par for the course. It was enough that he had friends, most other wolves could not say that. It was enough, he told himself, it had to be.

Sirius, ever cheerful and oblivious waltzed into the room right in the middle of this thought process slapping Remus on the back, and getting into an arm wrestling competition with James. “Blimey, Prongsy packs quite a wallop! ” Sirius exclaimed, after he had been defeated, rubbing at his sore bicep. “You should be a stallion James old boy!” He shouted, loud enough for Evans to hear, which earned him a sharp jab in the ribs from the stallion in question.

Remus had to chuckle at this, his moodiness mostly disrupted. Ever since ‘the incident with Snape’ Sirius had been very keen on touching him. As if somehow his lack of eloquence in apologizing could be made up by touching his skin. As if he could rub away the hurt if he only hugged him once more, stroked his hair just so, or held his hand to drag him from the library when he felt Remus was working too hard.

The golden eyed boy blinked, focusing back on his comrades verbal sparring, smirking slightly at the look of mock rage blooming on James’ face.

“Quiet you! I’m trying to show her that I’m a bloke with reform on my mind.” James hissed quietly to Sirius, which only caused the other boy to snort in amusement.

“You reformed, that’s about as likely as Moony over here giving up on chocolate. Not. Bloody. Likely. Isn’t that right oh Moony my dear?” He replied, his silvery eyes dancing with mirth at the look of petulant annoyance that flashed through the face of one ‘Prongsy’ Potter.

Remus was about to answer when he vaguely registered two of his classmates discussing a charm. “…supposedly sparks, and looks like fireworks, very pretty I hear.” Before Remus could think to even wonder what they were on about, the boy had his wand in hand, and chanted (or rather badly enunciated, in Remus’ humble opinion) “Argentoflamma!”

The next thing he knew, silver sparks were zooming crazily about the room, splintering and scratching at the students. The caster of the faulty spell was yelling apologies, and trying to fire off finite incantatem, but to no avail.

Remus however was not paying attention to any of this, he was staring down at his arm, where several of the silver sparks were embedded. Silver, silver, like Sirius’ eyes, silver, like the moon that would torment him in one days’ time.

His stomach lurched horribly, the acrid taste of bile rising in his throat. He fled from the room, his world spinning, trying to get out of the suddenly menacing class as quickly as possible. Heedless to the calls of his friends’ over the tinny roaring of blood in his ears. Like an animal cornered, he sought to conceal himself, staggering into one of the secret passages he and the rest of the marauders had discovered.

He was on fire, the arm which the sparks were lodged in throbbed, sending nerve fraying jolts of white hot heat all over his body. It was all he could do not to howl.

‘Focus Remus, focus…’ but it was so hard, he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep, maybe the pain would leave him alone then.

With a shake of his head, Remus tried to pry the silver out of his arm. The room was blurring, and he could taste blood. Hot on the coattails of the burning pain came an icy chill that nearly froze him still on the spot. He pressed on though, his hand shaking violently as he gripped the edge of one silver ‘spark’ with his fingernails. He wanted to grab his wand and cast a simple splinter removal spell, but it just seemed so heavy. Success was small and not very victorious in the gloom of the hidden corridor, his nails stained red from blood, and his fingertips burned fiendishly when he gripped the metal with too much force. His vision swam once more before he collapsed on the cold stone behind him, his body thrashing weakly against the floor.

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It was quiet in the infirmary for the moment, save for the steady breathing of three boys, and the gasping fits of near hyperventilation from a fourth.

James opened his mouth to try and say something lighthearted, but there was nothing to say. Nothing that could make watching one of their pack thrashing in soundless agony on a small hospital bed. The covers were a stark white, but it was nothing to the color of Remus’ skin, blanched a sickly chalk color. Sirius’ own face was ashen under the last remnants of his tan, and the other marauders didn’t look much better.

Madam Pomfrey bustled over, winding a wide bandage around Remus’ arm, and at its touch the sandy haired teen finally did make a sound. A sound that almost made the three boys wish they were temporarily deaf. It was a long soul piercing shriek, bursting the bubble of silence around them, and shattering the grim calm that Sirius had been feeling. The black haired teen grabbed Remus’ uninjured arm furtively, as if trying to pull the pain to him, if only, if only he could feel it instead of his friend.

“Moony, Moony please, stay with us, it’s alright, you can scream as much as you want. Just snap out of it, please Moony, please…” The words fell from his lips, flowing into each other, and Sirius just didn’t care that James and Peter were watching him. Didn’t care that the word ‘please’ fell from his lips like a lovers’ caress. Didn’t care that he was ‘Sirius Black, prankster extraordinaire’ no, nothing mattered as long as Remus heard him.

Then as suddenly as it had begun, the screaming stopped, and Remus resumed his silent thrashing on the bed. There was a chink in the armor here, and then another, and another, and Sirius let out a sob, and then another, and another. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see it was Madam Pomfrey’s hand giving him a slight squeeze.

“Boys, I don’t really think you should be here, there is really not much that you can do for him. I have given him calming draughts, but that…I am afraid is the most help I can offer. The pain will wear off, he will be alright, just give him time.” The medi-with murmured in the most soothing voice any of the marauders had ever heard her use.

“I…we can’t leave him like this. Even if we can’t help…he needs us here.” Sirius choked out, the words coming out as through molasses, sticking in his throat as if it hurt to say them.

His words were interrupted as Remus’ back arched sharply, taut as a bowstring, but his mouth made no sound. The fine boned hands sought purchase on the covers, and his body writhed. Sirius watched helplessly, he had seen pain like this once, only once. One of the house elves had displeased his mother deeply, and the poor creature had been hit with ‘crucio’. Blindly he had stumbled into the room, and his mother had looked up, ended the curse, and ordered the poor elf to make Sirius breakfast.

This though, this was so much worse, it went on, and on, and on. He knew he had only been sitting here for around half an hour, but it felt like forever. Forever watching the eyes of his friend move feverishly behind his lids, forever hearing the ragged, uneven breaths torn from Remus’ once eloquent lips.

“Alright, you can stay, but when it gets dark, you boys are going to your rooms. Understood?” Her voice brooked no argument, but Sirius could only bring himself to give even the barest nod of understanding.

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The hours ticked by slowly, plodding by one by one like defeated soldiers. Remus screamed now and then, and Sirius wanted to swallow those screams up, take them into himself, and hide them from the world. He knew that Moony…dear, sweet, strong Moony would feel too exposed if he ever found out he had screamed in their presence.

His cries tore at Sirius’ heart, ripped him open, and made him bleed, but the silence, oh the silence, it made Sirius want to scream himself, just to hear something other than the hammering of his own traitorous heart.

James and Peter paced nearby, the had long since given up on getting Sirius to let them take his spot by Remus’ side.

Quietly, night stole over the grounds of Hogwarts, reaching their little corner of the hospital wing. Sirius glanced up at the window, swallowing thickly, as if the movement was suddenly foreign to him. Cued by the darkness, Madam Pomfrey stepped into their space, motioning for them to leave the infirmary.

“Go eat boys, he will still be here in the morning, that I can promise you.” She said quietly, fixing a particularly gentle glance on Sirius, who was slowly getting to his feet.

James and Peter nodded, and made for the door, looking back imploringly at Sirius. “Come on mate, we can come back tomorrow.” He said, emphasizing the word ‘tomorrow’ in such a way that Sirius knew he would be offered the invisibility cloak later that evening.

“Right….I’ll be up soon.” He muttered, watching carefully as his two friends walked slowly from the room.

As soon as their forms had disappeared through the door, he leant down and whispered three words in Remus’ ear, before following his remaining pack mates up to Gryffindor tower. Three words that meant everything he had been trying to say with his hands and his eyes. Three words that he knew would never be given back to him for safe keeping in his heart. His limbs feeling heavy, Sirius climbed through the portrait hole, and into the common room, where he was met by the worried faces of James and Peter.

Back in the infirmary, A pair of feverish golden eyes opened.