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Title: The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name
 It was barely past seven o'clock, but already the curtains of the Gryffindor common room were drawn to stop the night coming in. The darkness encroached earlier each evening with the advent of winter, leaving long hours to be spent indoors, out of the cold. James and Sirius had bored of chess after only two games and were now enchanting the pieces, who were complaining bitterly. Peter was sucking on a Fizzing Whizzbee, whilst staring aimlessly at the tricks of the two other boys. Remus, slightly detached from the group, sat in an armchair closer to the fire. He was absorbed in a rather worn looking book. As he was about to turn the page something seemed to stop him. Taking the book in one hand, he snatched up the handkerchief that had been resting in his lap. Remus held it closed to his face for a moment, before his breath hitched sharply. "hhhheh-hehTchuhh! T-chuhh! Hehtushhuh!" he sneezed, each one throwing his forward sharply. Sighing, Remus sniffled and wiped his nose. "You cold doesn't sound any better," James remarked from the floor. Remus looked over towards his friends, slightly embarrassed. He had tried to play down his symptoms and until this evening his persistent coughing, sniffling and sneezing had not been mentioned. Obviously, they had all noticed though. Especially Sirius. He was looking at Remus with a fixed, concerned gaze that flooded Remus's eyes. Horribly aware of the way in which they were looking at each other, and that anyone in the common room would know what such a look meant, Remus tore his eyes away. "No, I don't think it is any better," he told James. "Maybe you should go and see Madame Pomfrey," suggested Peter thickly, his mouth full of sweets. Remus shook his head. "I'd rather not," he replied. "I'll be spending enough time in there in ten days or so. And it is only a head cold. I've survived worse." Remus snuffled and turned back to his book. But his eyes were tried and his head ached. The words on the page blurred and he knew he wasn't taking in any of them. He placed his bookmark between the pages and then closed the covers, and joined Peter in watching Sirius and James. Sirius must have realised this because he messed up his next charm. Instead of making the chessman dance, the base of it caught fire, causing the piece to give an alarmed squeak. James was forced to extinguish the flames with a jet of water from his wand. He threw Sirius as quizzical glance. "Wand slipped," muttered Sirius, avoiding the eyes of his friends. Luckily for him, Remus deflected their attention away from him with another set of harsh sneezes. "Heh-Ushhuh! Hehh... ehh-Ushhuh! Hehshhuhh!" Remus kept his nose buried in the folds of his handkerchief as if he were sure there were more sneezes to follow. But none appeared and he blew his nose wetly. Looking up, he saw Sirius's eyes again, full of restrained compassion. Things would be much easier without secrets, Remus thought. "Bless you," Sirius said in a low voice. "I'm going to bed," announced Remus hoarsely. "I'll try to sleep this off." He got up from this chair and headed upstairs to their dormitory. "Is he all right?" James asked Sirius, when he was sure Remus was out of earshot. "What, you mean apart from having a bad cold?" Sirius replied. James nodded. "Well, I suppose so. What made you ask?" Sirius's eyes were examining the floor. "He's been rather withdrawn recently," James continued. "Maybe it's the moon," Peter suggested. "No, you idiot, that's not for another ten days," James told him, rolling his eyes. Peter look apologetic. "It's probably because he's not feeling well," Sirius said, hoping it would put an end to the matter. "He's forgotten his book," said Peter suddenly, picking it up from where it lay on the floor, next to the arm chair. James took it from him. "Remus reads too much," he scoffed. He opened the book where Remus had left the piece of card marking his place. He pulled a face when he was written there. "I mean, listen to this." James began to recite the verse on the page slowly, as if he had trouble understanding what it meant. "Yet each man kills the thing he loves
"What's all that about?" "Anyone would seem depressed after reading that," Peter agreed. "What do you think, Sirius?" "Don't ask me about stuff like that," Sirius said, nonchalantly. "Too right!" James said laughing. "The only poem that Padfoot's ever read begins, 'There was an old warlock called Mollocks'!" "Yeah," said Sirius, forcing a smile. He pointed his wand at a bishop, which promptly began to turn cartwheels. But Sirius's eyes were not looking at it; they were glazed and distant. The book seemed to him to be burning, abandoned as it now was. The words of the poem whispered over and over in his head: 'The coward does it with a kiss.' Eventually, Sirius could stand in no longer. He grabbed the volume and stood up. "I'm going to take this up to Remus and see if he needs anything," he muttered, trying not to hurry towards the staircase. The dormitory door opened with a squeak, the worn hinges expressing their displeasure. Remus sat up in his bed and looked towards the doorway. By the light of his candle he saw Sirius, shadowed and clutching something. "I brought your book for you," he said flatly. "Thank you," replied Remus. Sirius shut the door softly. Then he ran over to Remus and took the young man in his arms, holding him tightly. "I've been wanting to do this all week," Sirius whispered into Remus's ear. "It's been torture seeing you look so sick and knowing that I couldn't hold you and make you feel better." "And there's me thinking I'd managed to keep it from you that I wasn't well." Remus laughed wryly and the sniffed hard, drawing back from the embrace. "Oh no, I have to... heh-Ushhoo! Hehtchoo! Heh-Ehhshhooo!" he sneezed, turning his head to one side. Sirius stroked Remus's sandy hair and the other boy reached for a clean handkerchief and blew his nose. "Poor Remus," he said softly. "How are you feeling?" "Dreadful," Remus admitted. "But better now you're here." A sudden chill came over him and he shuddered violently. "Come, you're shivering," Sirius said, anxiously. "You should get back under the blankets and keep warm." "Stay with me," Remus whispered. "I feel so safe when you're here." "Of course. I'm such a good defence against any dark creature that might come through the window," Sirius replied sarcastically, lying down and cuddling up to Remus. "Humour me," Remus said, laughing hoarsely. "I'm utterly help... heh... helpless... heh-Ushhuh! Eshhhuhh!" "Helpless and sneezy," Sirius said, kissing him on the cheek. Remus sighed and turned his head so that there lips met in a soft, full kiss. Sirius could not resist winding Remus's hair around his own fingers, while Remus allowed his hands to slowly explored the contours of Sirius's body. Suddenly a noise from the stairs made them spring apart, throwing themselves to opposite sides of the bed. They lay frozen for a moment, barely daring to breathe. But only silence followed. Relieved, the boys moved back together, Remus placing his head on Sirius's chest, where the racing of his heart could be easily heard. "We have to tell them sometime," Remus whispered. "It can't go on like this. All these secrets. I have to keep enough things from people already, I just want them to know the truth." "I know, I want them to know too," Sirius replied. "And they're our friends, Padfoot. They wouldn't... they couldn't..." "We will tell them," Sirius said. "But not tonight, not now. You're sick and I'm..." Sirius let his voice trail off. "I understand," Remus reassured him, wrapping an arm over his chest. "When you can do it." Sirius nodded guiltily. "I want to-" he began sadly. But Remus cut him off. "You don't need to explain," he said, a note of finality in his rough voice. "You don't need to explain anything to me." Silently we went round and round,
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