#if you tell a thirteen year old to stop making inappropriate jokes they will flip you off and do it more.

[dragonsdendoodles]

In your humble opinion, which peculiar do you think would be the most likely to make the most god forsaken, awful, raunchy jokes known to man, but the second Miss Peregrine is around there is not a single trace of that humor and she would need some convincing to believe they’d make that sort of joke?

You had me so ready to say Enoch in that first bit but Horace. 100% Horace. You cannot hang out with Enoch that much and not pick up on that

[blaiddlleuad]

We'll meet again soon - wolfstar

Part 2

Sirius is eleven when he comes back.

This time it’s a Wednesday morning. Its late September and the trees are just starting to lose their green. Sirius couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, flipped his pillow and changed pajamas. But he still was wide awake. He flips on the lamp that wobbled on his bed side table and sat back to staring at the mirror.

He can see himself inside. He's got his mother's grey eyes and his father's sharp cheek bones. He let his hair grow at the beginning of the year and now reaches at his shoulders. It's the same dark black as the rest of his family, one day he thinks he'd like to dye it like those men do in the magazine's he steals from the shops when he sneaks out.

He's been doing that a lot lately. Sneaking about like he's up to no good. He supposes he is really. Leaving his house in search for something fun to do. Ignoring his governess's words of wisdom to stay in line and his brother’s pleas to just be good for once. It's not the he's doing anything wrong, it's more like he's doing what his mother doesn't approve off (His father thinks it's funny, like how he was as a boy) and Sirius will do anything to piss her off.

The boy walks past just at that time. Between a blink and the light flickering. Sirius nearly misses him but he still sees the boy, taller again now.

"Hello?" He calls out.

Sirius wonders why he's doing this. Why he thinks it would be a good idea. But it was spur of the moment and the flash of something magic. A bubble that popped and a fairytale opening. A wisp of blue and purple and a flurry of dust. He couldn't miss it. The excitement coming alive. Or whatever it may be. He was being pulled towards something different, something that tickled the back of his throat.

"Hello?" He called out once more.

Then a head popped round the mirrors edge. His eyes amber, strong and mystery circled and swirled, a hint of confusion and curiosity. His tawny hair ending in curls and flopping across his head. Three great big scars ran across his face but freckles over populated and hid the scars behind them. Sirius thought he was beautiful.

"Why are you in my mirror?" The boy asked. It sounded like he was from Wales. (How is a welsh boy in an Italian mirror?)

"I'm not in your mirror. You're in mine." Sirius said. Well now that’s just odd he thinks.

"I'm sure I'm not in a mirror." The boy replied, he was now sitting down. Legs crossed and arms folded in a jumble, pointing which way and everywhere.

"Well, I'm sure I'm not either. What's your name?" Sirius asked.

"Remus. I’m Remus."

It's not until a couple of weeks later that Sirius and Remus have any sort of conversation. They smile and nod if they see one another and Sirius makes sure to say good morning and good night, even if Remus isn't there to hear him.

It's been a long day. With having a new tutor and the responsibility of being the eldest son is more tiring than Sirius expected. (He's only eleven for crying out loud!)

He changes out of stiff uniformed suit, ugly green and satin black, into his more comfortable loose jeans and blue shirt. He puts on his radio and listens to the buzz that fills the room as if it's empty and he's all alone. Like the room has expanded and grown larger in the time he took to switch it on. It makes everything echo, every breath he takes, every rustle he makes. But it's not a terrifying echo that would reach him and rid Sirius of safety, instead it gives it to him. Handing it over as a gift that should be looked after.

Sirius sits on the floor with his back against the bed. He's more stable when feeling the ground beneath him, more in control and he likes that. Regulus has found it funny. It was then that Remus came into view.

"Hello Sirius. You look tired." Remus said a matter of factly. He was wearing a too big jumper and joggers, Sirius wished he could go up to Remus and hug him, he did look soft and cuddly.

"Hi. And thanks."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Is everything okay?"

"Ugh yes, just my tutor is so annoying. He's so old and, and old."

"Tutor?"

"You don't have one? Well I got a new one start of September, apparently I'm too old to be working with the governess. I actually liked her. She gave me sweets."

"Governess?"

Sirius faltered for a moment. Just a moment where he stopped, and everything around him did so too. It was late and of course his parents were in the parlor and his brother in the library but it seemed to him that even them had stopped. The radio still blared out music though it was all a jumble of words and sounds. Remus was different to him. Not a bad different but definitely different. Whether that be his clothes or his interest in books or the fact that he was from Wales. He was different.

Sirius however, couldn’t get it out of his head. He liked Remus, so him being any different wasn’t going to change that. He likes his smile and how his eyes light up when he does so, he likes his large cotton jumpers and his fluffy socks usually mismatched, he liked his array of freckles that resembled the stars and how they too were beautiful and that they kept distracting Sirius. He was always pulled away when Remus was in his head. But he didn’t mind. He rather liked it. At least he wasn’t constantly thinking about his mother.

“Do you go to school?” Remus asked, as Sirius came back from his momentary thinking.

“Yes, of course.”

“Like to a school. Not at home.”

“Well no. I mean, what’s it like?”

“Massive. Much larger than the local comp. Bigger library too, more books to choose from. The teachers are stricter and we have homework every week. I, I don’t really have friends, everyone is nice enough, some bitchy people but you can’t have everything, I guess. I like it, its nice. Chaotic but good.”

Sirius listened intently and imagined him and Remus sitting next to each other, passing notes and whispering about a teacher while their back is turned. Walking around, eating lunch, cracking jokes and bunking off boring lessons, hiding in the bathrooms. He imagined Remus with his head down, writing furiously, sticking his hand up and answering questions right first time, carrying around his books and reading it whenever he had a spare moment. He imagined himself pulling faces and winking at the girls, legs up relaxed and pen dangling from his teeth, tie wrapped around his head and jumper tied around his waist, sleeved rolled up to his elbows and cartoons drawn in black ink on his skin. Sirius wanted to hang out with Remus, wanted to wave him goodbye and hug with tight after a long holiday apart.

After that, they talked every night before bed. Sirius asking for more stories for Remus to tell, from his books or his life, Sirius didn’t mind, he just laid back and listened. Remus even asked his own set of questions, like what his favourite colour is to his deepest secrets. And, Sirius answered every one.

He is thirteen when he made a discovery.

It was while on one of his excursions, Sirius came about a bunch of boys around his age, maybe older he couldn’t tell. While he was wearing steam ironed shirts and smart trousers, they worse baggy jeans and jackets. Casual, Sirius thought. One of them was even wearing leather with patches and badges. They stood by the side of the road, by an alleyway that reached a rather run-down park. Sirius caught their attention as he tried to walk past.

“Oi posho!” One of them shouted. The boy with the leather. The boy with the brown eyes and perfectly straight teeth.

“Yes?” Sirius said and turned. Even though he could stare at them all day long, he really should be getting back.

“Should you be walkin’ bout these parts by yourself?”

“Why? Am I going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, jus’ gotta be safe ya know. Don’t want someone like you gettin’ in bad business.”

“Someone like me?”

“mph defiantly someone like you. Come on guys, mum said we havin’ bacon sarnies.”

The group of boys left, some more in a hurry than others but all leaving Sirius confused and alone in the middle of the path. He brushed it off and rushed home without raising suspicion from his parents. Sirius didn’t tell Remus about his little encounter and he certainly didn’t tell him about his feelings about it.

It was odd but not uncomfortable, slightly unnerving yet not something he would try and make go away. A soft and prickly feeling deep in his belly. A dizzying fermented bloom that sits peacefully within. A huge rounding urge that moves up and down, sideways and which ways. It flutters in his head and sinks in the pits. And he has these dreams. Fantasies that seem to real to be all in his mind. The touches and the looks. The flushed faces and cheeky winks. Sirius wakes up flustered and dazed, confused and shy of his own body, running to the bathroom before he can end up back asleep.

And it wasn't like he thought it would be. Sirius those he would be tripping up and dropping his things and walking into walls over girls. With the plump lips with perfect red lipstick, the dresses that flow when they spin in the wind, hair put in a bun effortlessly so even if pieces come out it looks like it was meant to be. That's what he sees when he goes out, when he sneaks glances over his shoulder or out of his window as a gaggle of girls squeal past. But that wasn't what he saw.

Sirius sees boys with boystorus laughs and rough shoulders, a bobbing Adams apple and the picked nails. The carless clothes and the forgotten hair that ruffles in the morning. The side looks filled with recognition and a silent talking that speaks too loud and too distant. Voices with envy and jealousy, tones with calm and gratitude. Sirius sees what he doesn't understand, what others don't notice. What they might deem inappropriate and juvenile.

Sirius couldn't make himself feel the same way for the girls. They didn't make him blush and turn away to hide it, they'd didn't make him dream about those pillow talks, they'd didn't make him fall head over heals. Sirius secretly enjoyed his difference. Though when it occurred to him who exactly made him feel that way; he didn't like it as much as he thought.

He liked Remus. More than just friends. He wished for things to happen and then didn't when he realised who it was. He had him in his dreams and let him come closer until he remembered and pushed away. He couldn't. No, he couldn't be falling for the boy in his mirror.

Sirius is fifteen when Remus told him his secret.

The years had gone by like lightning flashing after thunder. Quick but the rumble still goes one and is rarely forgotten. Sirius told himself to never forget the times he watches Remus talk; when he grows tall and when he gets excited, where he flashes him the smile that send him sky rocketing, even the times where they are both silent. He captivates everything. Storing it in his head and keeping it safe.

Sirius had hoped that maybe his falling would stop and he would be caught be another. But it never happened. He was stuck in a sticky pulsing red that captured him and held him tight. As Sirius watched Remus grow through the mirror, he fell faster and faster.

Its a warm August evening. His fan ran circles to cool him down and stop the sweat from bubbling up. His windows were strechted open a soft breeze coming through though not in aid to the heat that gathered. Sirius changed into shorts and a tank vest top. It was either that or being naked. And Sirius didn't think neither he or Remus would find any delight in that sight.

"Hey Sirius. I see you are getting the heat wave."

"Oh yeah it's just so great. Hang on! How are you in a jumper?"

"It's not hot. Cool breeze we have here."

"So unfair. I'm telling you. You should see Regulus, he cant handle the heat and has been taking ice baths to cool down! I think you would get along with him."

"Sirius."

"Yeah."

"I need to tell you something."

Remus whispered that. It was quiet and barely audible but Sirius caught and couldn't help but stare. For the first time that night he really got a look at Remus. Instead of the casual boy that always chose to sit cross legged with a smile, he was anxiously running his hands through another and Sirius noticed his eyes cast away, down at the floor like his carpet had changed patterns and was now interesting.

"Are, are you okay Remus?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Okay."

"I, I'm, god this is hard. Well basically, I am, I am gay."

He has tears in his eyes. Sirius can't talk. His throat is dry. Sirius just plumetted to the hard ground in which he had started falling towards. He smiles.

They are nineteen when ready at the train station.

They run and run, breathing is hard but they don't care. Bags thumping against backs and shoes squeak as they dodge past other people. They lose eachother other for only a moment though it is too long of a second for then to shrug it on. It has claws that scratch and teeth that bite. The second passes and they both stop. Staring at eachother in the flesh. They stop and just stare. Its too unreal, too much and too heart aching.

But it doesn't matter. The throbbing pain that threatens to tear them apart subdues as the platform grows quiet. They slowly take steps forward, engulfing the space between before it's nothing more than a mere inches. Remus makes the first move. He wraps his arms around Sirius and sqeazes tight. They both do. It's been too long to not let go.

"You are even better in person." Sirius whispers into Remus's chest.

They pull away just the much needed to reach and hold onto each others faces. With no one around and no one to disturb them, they kiss. Gentle and soft. Lips press together, fitting around awkward and fitting snug. A bliss that shines bright, a pleasure that rushes red, a joy that filtered around the edges.

"You've always been in the middle of my mirror."

"You've always been in the middle of my mind."