Chapter Text
Sirius Black never knew when to take a break.
Taking breaks was silly, anyway; he’d rather keep painting. His nights were often filled with it, and left him yearning for sleep the next morning. So he would sleep, a little, until the demands of the day took hold of him yet again, and he spent the day imagining the paintings he could create once the sun had set. He thought sleep was overrated.
He’d gotten used to this rhythm, over the years. The demand of his creative mind is what he was used to, and that was how it would always be.
***
The paintbrush hung in the middle of the air as Sirius stared at nothing in particular. He was in the middle of a stormy landscape painting, and had just finished mixing the paints to the right hues to continue giving the canvas more coverage, but his hand didn’t move.
His brain did, though.
He had woken up that morning reminiscent of warmth. He tried to find words that fit the feeling better, but he couldn’t find any. It was just pure warmth. The way it made him feel made him want to stay in bed and keep himself in the dream he’d woken up from. Sadly, he couldn’t remember what the exact dream had been. But it was right there, right on the precipice of his mind. He tried to hold on to it, but it moved slowly backwards into oblivion. Sirius sighed. The dream had been so nice.
He tried to remember some of the scenes. After a few minutes he remembered not being alone in his kitchen that (dream-)morning. There was a person, and they had evidently stayed over. It seemed that he – the person was a he – did that a lot, because it felt entirely natural. They were making coffee together and chatting in soft volumes. They spoke about something decently significant…but he couldn’t remember what. He did remember that the other person was right, though, and that Sirius knew he had to give in.
He also remembered waking up in the real world and being surprised at the fact that he was alone. He remembered something in him wanting to reach for the other side of his bed, as if he should’ve been expecting the person there.
None of it made any sense.
Sirius shook himself out of his thoughts before he focussed right back on the painting in front of him. At least painting made sense.
The half-empty canvas in front of him was to become a wild storming landscape; a field surrounded by trees, with a streak of lightning striking right in the middle of it. The painting wouldn’t contain much more colour than greys and blues, but Sirius mixed his palette to absolute perfection either way.
The sound of the brush moving over the painting stilled his thoughts and let him get absorbed into the process of painting. Big strokes filled in the background, and he started outlining the perspective the grass and trees would take. He had decided to save the lightning for last. That way it felt as if it wasn’t as planned, just like lightning in real life.
It was routine for Sirius to work the hours of the day away in his studio. It was a gorgeous place, high ceilings, open layout, and huge, white cast-iron windows on the front side. He’d left most of the walls white, and he’d painted the exposed brick wall a warm shade of grey. The dark hard-wood floors and doors contrasted magically against the lightness of the room, and he’d loved it.
In one of the corners he kept his collection of empty canvases (of all sizes, some almost reached the ceiling), and against the brick wall he kept the completed ones. He gave most of his finished paintings to his friends, and he had decorated his own apartment with them as best as he could, but with the speed at which he made the paintings, there simply wasn’t enough room for all his paintings to have a decorative spot.
He didn’t like having to put his beloved paintings stacked against one another in a corner, but he didn’t have any other option. For now, at least. Maybe one day he’d open a gallery or he would open the studio for people to come by and buy some of the pieces. Either way, that wasn’t the reality now, so he tried not to feel the hurt of it too much.
On the wall next to the main door Sirius (actually, James) had hung up some shelves where Sirius kept his ever-growing collection of sketchbooks and art supplies. He remembers the day he got the keys to this room, and the pure joy he felt.
He had invited James and Peter to come over and help him ‘move in’. They were there when he walked in for the very first time, holding the keys in his hands, quite literally owning the ground he walked on. It was surreal. All of them had ended up bursting out in laughter at the surrealness of it all, and he remembers the way their laughter echoed off the walls. The echo had never completely left, but Sirius didn’t mind.
They had gotten some wraps to go and were eating them on the floor, right in the middle of this studio-to-be. They had soon gotten to work. First they cleaned, then they painted the walls, and finally they built two long desks, assembled three cabinets, and hung the four shelves. Sirius brought his beloved easel in last, and it had completely finished the space.
He also remembers the hug he got from his friends when he got emotional at the sight. He now officially owned his own studio. His own space. It was his and his alone. He couldn’t believe how far he’d gotten.
***
‘Sirius, mate,’ came James’ yell after he unlocked the studio door, ‘we’re late for lunch!’
Sirius checked the clock on the wall behind him, and indeed, it read 13:08 pm. He quickly took care of the art supplies he had been using and fixed himself up as best he could. He twirled for James’ approval, but James was too busy rapidly tapping his thumbs at his phone to notice.
‘Jaaaames?’ Sirius whined offendedly. ‘Who are you texting?’
‘Your brother.’
‘Ew. Do I look good or do I look like I forgot what day it is and spent all day painting?’
James finally looked up, dragged his eyes over Sirius’ frame, and looked at him with a blank expression before breaking out into a wide grin.
‘Gorgeous as ever, Padfoot.’
‘Oh, thank god.’
‘But you do look like you’ve been painting for hours.’
Sirius whined as James pushed him out the door.
They had been walking for a few minutes before James put away his phone with an apology.
They spent the walk to the restaurant chatting animatedly about their day, about the most random of things, and about Regulus.
Regulus was in Marseille for a semester, and from what Sirius had heard he was enjoying it immensely. It made Sirius happy to know Regulus was finally taking the reins of his own life and enjoying whatever he’d wanted. Although, he did terribly miss his brother, and he couldn’t wait for Regulus to come back home.
At some point conversation went quiet, and Sirius found himself taking in the view while listening to their rhythmic footsteps. They were on one of the more beautiful streets of the city, and trees decorated the scenery with their autumnal leaves.
Some of the leaves had broken free from their branches and were drifting slowly to the ground, or carried farther away by the breeze. Sirius found himself tracing their journeys with his eyes. To be a leaf was to be entirely free: unbound to anything else, weightlessly carried by the wind to wherever it would take you. He thought the idea was rather romantic. But then again he really, really appreciated the feeling of his feet on the ground.
An idea for a new painting began to form in his mind as they arrived at the restaurant.
***
Lunch had been wonderful.
They had gone to a new place, just opened in a small but cute alleyway off the main plaza. It seemed extremely small, at first, and there were only two-seat tables in the front outside, but the building housed a surprise courtyard where bigger tables were. The inside, as far as Sirius could see as they were moving through to the back, was extremely cosy, if a bit dark. Perfect for winter, but the family wanted to enjoy all the sunshine the year had to offer, even if it was a slightly chilly October afternoon.
As per usual, Euphemia and Fleamont sat next to each other, as did James and Sirius. Effie in front of him, and Monty in front of James. They happened to sit like this the first time they went out to eat, and it had stuck. Sirius liked the little familial ritual.
As per usual for these family lunches, Effie and Monty bombarded both James and Sirius with questions about their studies, their well being, and the well being of their friends. It took up more than half of the lunch, the boys chatting excitedly on the antics they got into that month. After their stories were shared, their parents took the metaphorical mic, and spoke on happenings in their own friend group and their plan to travel before christmas.
‘We have decided to go on a little holiday in a couple of weeks,’ they’d started. ‘We’ll be away for fourteen days, and so, the house will be empty.’
James and Sirius got matching grins on their faces at the news, which Effie and Monty had clearly been expecting.
‘Now, don’t go throw wild ragers that will leave our home in shambles,’ she’d winked, ‘but you’re very welcome to stay there while we are away.’
It was perfect. They’d be gone the week before their finals, meaning that they had a huge quiet house to study in…and to throw a well deserved party at afterwards.
After they’d asked relevant questions about where they planned to go and such, Sirius turned to James who returned the gesture with fervour, talking over one another as they made plans. He vaguely registered Effie and Monty laughing before they settled into their own conversation.
Vague plans made, lovely conversations had, and parental hugs received; the lunch had been a huge success.
But he left rather late, and Sirius now found himself running to the lecture hall in hopes of making it on time.
His Tuesday Roman Mythology class was one of his favourite classes, he had to admit. Sirius studied art, but he couldn’t let his love for mythology and literature go completely, so he had been taking one elective class every semester. This semester he’d chosen Roman Mythology, which took place on the side of campus opposite from the restaurant. Naturally.
Running through campus, jumping over flower beds, and flying down staircases, Sirius made it just under 10 minutes late.
His lecturer, Dr. Kettleburn, merely looked at him disappointedly before carrying on with his presentation. Sirius quietly slipped past people making quick apologies as he found his seat next to Marlene.
‘Why are you so late? I thought this was the only class you tried being on time for,’ Marlene asked while doodling in her notebook.
‘I had lunch with the parents,’ he explained while grabbing his laptop as quickly as possible. He did really like this class, and he didn’t like to miss out on anything seeing as the lecturer moved through the theory with speed.
‘Tell Effie to call me,’ Marlene teased without taking her eyes off of the presentation.
‘Bite me.’
‘Gladly.’
‘What’s today's subject?’
‘Romulus and Remus,’ Marlene quipped.
All Sirius’ thoughts paused right there. Remus… There was something about the name that Sirius couldn’t place. Of course he knew who these brothers were in Roman mythology, but that wasn’t it. Remus. A pang of familiarity pierced his heart.
Remus. Remus. Remus.
All Sirius could think of was the person from his dream earlier that day. The warmth. Remus. Yes, that was it. It must’ve been.
Sirius didn’t know why, or how, he knew this, but the man from his dream was named Remus.