by Claire

The lines are blurred.

They had been blurry for Sirius, too. Harry and James. James and Harry. HarryJames. JamesHarry. James never lived to see greying hairs or premature lines on his face. James is forever young. And Harry -- Harry is young now. Harry is fifteen, going on sixteen, and he looks so much like James that it is so easy to forget that James has been dead for years.

Remus knows it had been blurry for Sirius because he has always known how Sirius' mind works. Worked, he reminds himself, worked. Past tense.

See Harry and think he's James. Remember something James did and think it was Harry. James sitting over there, Harry you went to school with.

For Harry, he knows, the lines are blurring, too. Sirius was his godfather. Godfather and role model and surrogate father and the one person he loved truly and completely all rolled into one. What do you call someone like that? More than family, more than a hero.

And the lines are blurred because what would never have happened before, or even thought of before, is suddenly happening, and it's not just because the wizarding world is in such a state of chaos right now. It's because Sirius is gone.

If it had happened before, Remus would have said it was wrong. Full stop.

But it's happening after --

-- and he can't apply a label like 'right' or 'wrong' to a boy not-yet-sixteen but who has seen more than most people do in a lifetime sharing his bed. Not anymore.

If it had happened before, he would have said that it was a misguided way for both of them to deal with the loss of losing the person they loved.

But it's happening after --

-- and the lines are blurred, now.


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