Title: Fortune's Fool

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Remus/Sirius

Contains: questionable pick up lines

Summary: AU. First-War, but a slightly skewed universe. The war isn't quite so visible and doesn't play out exactly the same way, but is definitely there behind the scenes. Sirius, who completed his education at Durmstrang and spent a few years immersed in Wizarding circles on the Continent, finally returns to England.

Word count: ~5300

Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me.

The sound of knocking pulled Sirius out of his novel. Mildly curious, he went to answer the front door. He hadn't lived in the building long, and he hadn't given many people his address. He hoped it wasn't the Squib housefrau from two doors down. Ever since he'd made the tactical error of helping her tote her shopping up the stairs one day, she'd chatted him up at every opportunity, despite his unfailingly cool reception. He hoped she'd not actually resort to knocking at his door.

Fortunately, he opened to a rather stocky fellow with dark red hair and a pleasant smile instead. "Hullo, I'm Gideon Prewett. I live in the flat just below yours." He held out his hand, and Sirius shook it automatically. Prewett. He was vaguely aware of that name-pureblood, definitely, but his hazy knowledge suggested it was one of the lesser families.

"Sirius Black. Pleased to meet you."

"We're having a bit of a party this evening. Wanted to give you fair warning as things might get a bit rowdy." He gave Sirius a friendly wink. "You're welcome to come. Swing round anytime after eight, why don't you?"

"Ah, thank you. Perhaps, I will." Sirius smiled politely, though he had no intention of taking him up on the invitation. He didn't relish the idea of making awkward small talk with a room full of strangers, particularly when he was only invited to forestall any complaints he might have about the noise level.

Yet, when eight o'clock came and went, and he could hear the music thumping up through the floorboards, he found himself considering the possibility. He held out for another hour and a half, nursing a drink and turning pages without much comprehension of the novel he'd been trying to get through earlier. Finally, he snapped the book shut and went to his closet to pull out something more appropriate to wear.

He had no idea what sort of crowd it would be, really, but then his upbringing had certainly taught him how to work a social situation to his best advantage. He decided on a pair of charcoal slacks and a cool-blue silk shirt that set off the grey of his eyes nicely. Unlikely as it would be that there would be anyone worth attracting at the party, Sirius had enough vanity that he wanted everyone to appreciate his good looks, even if he wasn't particularly interested in indulging their interest.

He grabbed an unopened bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet and followed the music down the stairs to the appropriate door. The door was closed and Sirius knocked on it without much hope of being heard. The music was much louder down here, and the tumult of voices could easily be heard even in the hallway.

Someone did answer, however, and he found himself face to face with a man of about his height whose mouth curved into a lopsided smile as he looked Sirius over. "Hello. I assume you're here for the party." The man gestured at the bottle in Sirius' hand. "And not to complain about the racket?"

The man's brown eyes wrinkled at the corners when he smiled, and he shook his rather shaggy hair back as he leaned against the doorjamb and lifted one eyebrow in amused inquiry.

"Oh, right." Sirius lifted the bottle and smiled in return. "I live upstairs. Gideon, er, Prewett invited me."

The man laughed. "Ah, the upstairs tenant. Did you feel obliged to come and be neighborly, or had you just given up on getting any sleep tonight and thought you'd better cut your losses?"

Finding himself responding to the man's good humor, Sirius shook his head and laughed. "None of the above," he said gallantly.

"No? Well, I hope the festivities don't disappoint." The man stood aside and swept his arm in a theatrical invitation to enter. "Feel free to mingle. Shall I just take this on to the kitchen for you?" Sirius passed over the bottle and watched him disappear into the crowd of dancing people.

It definitely wasn't like one his family's soirees. Going by their attire and the differing level of comfort with the Muggle music blaring from the speakers, the crowd was a tossed salad of blood traitors, half-bloods, and muggleborn-decidedly impure. His parents would be rolling in their graves if they weren't, unfortunately, still in disgustingly good health.

He raised an eyebrow as he noticed a tall, dark-skinned man dancing with a girl with long blonde hair down to her waist, and who was dressed in one of the indecently short skirts the Muggle girls all seemed to favor these days. He was suddenly struck by the idea that the hosts might have invited actual Muggles to the party, and a sense of disorientation swept over Sirius as he stared, forgetting all sense of propriety.

"Shacklebolt's taken, I'm afraid. Or is it the girl you're interested in?"

The man who had answered the door was at his shoulder, following his gaze. Sirius turned, a little taken aback by the insinuation. "No, I just-he looked familiar, and I...his father knows mine, I believe. I was rather surprised to find him here, that's all."

"What, slumming?" The man gave him an amused smile and held out a glass tumbler with a couple of fingers of tawny liquid. "Brought you a drink."

"Thank you..." Sirius lifted his eyebrows in inquiry, and the man laughed. "Sorry, terribly unmannerly of me. I'm Remus. Remus Lupin."

Undeniably a wizarding name, but not one he knew at all.

"Sirius Black." Sirius flashed him his best smile as they shook hands, almost unwilling to let go as Remus' warm fingers slipped away from his. Instead, he watched Remus curl them around his own drink as they clinked glasses and tossed back a swallow of the smooth whiskey. "It's all rather different from where I've been." Sirius tried to explain. "I've only just got back to England, and...I didn't mean that. What you said about slumming. I just..."

"No worries. I know what you meant, Sirius Black." His expression was too soft and open to be mocking, but the words made Sirius bristle a little anyway. Remus noticed, and his smile quirked into a more mischievous expression. "Well, I would imagine this isn't your usual sort of affair, is it?"

"I'm not sure I know what my usual sort of affair is," Sirius answered gamely. "My family's? No." He tossed back another portion of the whiskey and slid a sidelong glance at Remus, not used to feeling so awkward. "Do I seem so out of place?"

"Quite the contrary." Remus leaned against a nearby bookshelf. "You look like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth. I'm sure you could fit in anywhere you took a fancy to."

"It does you know."

"Does what?"

"Melt in my mouth."

The sight of Remus laughing did something to his insides, and Sirius took a step closer without even thinking about it, rather intrigued for reasons he couldn't really name.

"Do you live here?"

"I'm staying here for now." Remus' expression had closed up a little, though he regarded Sirius steadily, idly swirling the liquid in his glass.

"With..." Sirius cast about for the name. "Gideon?"

"Yes, he's a friend."

Sirius decided to pay Remus back for his earlier question. "Just a friend?"

Remus' expression grew noticeably colder. "Yes. He's seeing Marlene McKinnon." He nodded in the direction of the blonde-haired girl dancing with Shacklebolt.

McKinnon. Sirius whistled internally, so she wasn't a muggle after all, not that blood traitors were thought of much better than that. Still, even his family had a healthy respect for the power of their line.

Sirius pushed the thought away to focus on the way Remus' eyes were harder and more challenging now. He stared at Sirius as if he was in the middle of a confrontation that was about to get ugly, but one from which he wasn't backing down.

"So he won't mind if I find out?"

Remus frowned. "Find out what?"

"If you melt in my mouth." Sirius closed the distance before he could react, cupping his hand behind Remus' head and pulling him in as Sirius all but devoured his slack mouth with a kiss, intense and hungry, thrilling down to his toes as Remus tentatively began to respond. After a long moment, Sirius pulled away to take in Remus' parted lips and dazed expression.

Remus stared at him, unblinking. His cheeks had gone slightly pink, and Sirius could see the subtle rise and fall of his chest from his quickened breath. It made Sirius want to push the shirt away from Remus' exposed collarbone and mark the flesh of his throat with bruising kisses, but before he could even think about moving again, Remus had pushed past him and disappeared into the crowd.

"That went well," Sirius said under breath, not really sorry at all that he'd given into the inexplicable impulse of the moment. Something about Remus Lupin drew him in, and Sirius wasn't given overmuch to worrying about his actions or to regrets. And it had been a fantastic kiss.

Unfortunately, Sirius didn't see Remus again for the rest of the night, and a few days later when he ran into Gideon on the stairs he found out that Remus wasn't even staying at the flat at the moment.

"He's away visiting a friend. Look..." Squaring his shoulders, Gideon looked up at where Sirius stood on the riser above him. "Remus doesn't need complications. You should stay away from him."

"I was just asking after him." Sirius frowned. "I hardly think that's a complication, is it?"

"Right. Well." Gideon cleared his throat and glanced away. "He's not..."

"He's not what?" Sirius asked, a hint of anger beginning to color his voice.

"He's not the one for you. Look, just take my advice. Stay away him."