They did not, in the end, visit the library that night. It was very late and they were both drowsy and longing for the comfort of a soft bed, in addition to one another's arms. They found what they craved in the rooms Remus had occupied during his brief tenure as Defence Against the Dark Arts master. Alone together, with nothing but skin and breath and touch between them, Remus hoped Sirius would forget all the strange sights that had so disturbed him that night.

After they made love, lulled by quiet contentment and the nearness of his beloved, Remus had almost drifted into sleep, when a soft voice in the darkness whispered, "Moony?"

For a moment, he contemplated not answering. It had been a very long night, involving firewhisky, more than enough drama, and far too much dubious singing. But he could not, in good conscience, allow the worry in Sirius's voice to go unanswered.

"What's the trouble, Padfoot?"

"I was just thinking about something you said tonight."

His uncertain tone filled Remus with tenderness. Sleep could wait. He could afford the few moments it would take to allay whatever fears had beset his lover in the darkness.

"What did I say tonight, Love?"

"You said - about canon. Not to worry about things like Snivellus shagging Harry or - or - touching you, because it's not canon."

Remus gathered Sirius into a reassuring embrace. "It's just fangirls, Padfoot. Some of them have odd tastes, that's all. It's nothing to trouble yourself over."

"I know," said Sirius slowly, weighing his words, "but Moony, do you ever worry that - that maybe we're not canon either?"

That brought Remus up short. The thought had honestly never occurred to him. Whatever the other Remuses might do, it did not matter, because he was real - he and Sirius. Weren't they?

"I've never thought that," he said with conviction. "Not for a moment."

"You're sure?"

"Does it really matter, Padfoot?" Remus asked softly.

"Maybe. I don't know." Sirius's hands pressed against Remus's chest, feeling the beat of his heart. "I guess it doesn't. I mean, we're here, aren't we? We're together. And we've just had some really fantastic sex. It just made me sad to think that maybe there's a real Moony and Padfoot who aren't us and don't have this - who maybe never found love at all. How much more terrible would our lives have been - everything that's happened - if we didn't have this?"

Remus's arms tightened around Sirius, pulling him close. He was suddenly more aware of the feel of Sirius's skin against his own than he had been half an hour before, when they were making love. How dear Sirius was to him. How precious. How empty his years of playing roles on his own had been, while Sirius was cast in the dramas of Azkaban. How alone he would be if he ever lost him again.

"Think of it this way, Padfoot," he said kissing the curve of an ear. "There are what? Three and a half thousand pages of canon? And we turn up in maybe ten percent of it, if that. There are a few looks and touches, certainly, a few hints of intimacy, but you're right that there isn't much evidence of more implied in the text."

His hand traced the groove of Sirius's spine to give his arse a tender squeeze, and their lips met in a long moment of silent understanding.

"But that isn't the only place we exist anymore," Remus continued. "We exist in the hearts and minds of fangirls everywhere. They are the ones who will give us the story we deserve: a little romance, a little happiness. Because of their devotion, the tiny fraction of canon that was our first home is now only the smallest part of our existence. What we have is real, not because of canon, but because the fans want it to be real."

Sirius snuggled closer against his shoulder with a sigh. "You're right; canon doesn't matter so much to us. Thank you, Moony."

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

"I'll try."

Remus had almost drifted off again when Sirius said, "Moony?"

"What is it now, Padfoot?"

"If what we have is real because the fangirls want it -"

"Yes?"

"Does that mean Snivellus is really shagging Harry, too?"

Remus sighed. "Yes, Padfoot, I'm afraid it does, and you'll just have to learn to live with it."