concerning flying lessons, snuffboxes, and one hundred galleons
Response to #34: One teaches the other to fly.
by Mary Borsellino

 

"You're a prat."

James nodded. "Yes, absolutely."

"And a delinquent."

"Again, you're utterly correct."

"And you have stupid hair."

This gave James pause. "Right, okay. Can you just say 'yes' now?"

Lily Evans' pretty green eyes, currently framed by lashes charmed to a silvery grey, narrowed.

"We've just established that you're about as attractive to me as bathroom grout, and yet you still expect me to agree to a date?"

James nodded again. Sirius was beginning to worry about his friend getting some sort of whiplash from the gesture.

"We'd have fun, Lily. Ask just about any girl in our year."

Sirius winced. Remus smacked the heel of his palm against his forehead in despair. Peter gave a nervous giggle. The three of them were staring down at a chessboard, apparently immersed in the game, while James and Lily talked nearby. The red queen and three of the rooks had created a small picket line protesting the lack of chess going on.

"That's done it, she'll never thaw now," Remus muttered, ushering a crying pawn over to the protesting union. The queen offered the pawn a lemon drop, smacking at Remus' fingers with her handbag.

"Oh, do get on with it!" the red queen implored in a very squeaky voice which nobody paid attention to.

But Lily's expression, rather than the anger the three expected, was one of vague amusement. "Is that so? Well then... look, I'm doing a drive for the children's wing at St Mungo's at the moment. If you can raise a hundred galleons before the Hogsmeade fair, I'll spend the day with you. All right?"

More nodding from James, this time coupled with a wide grin. "Great! That's, what, three weeks the day after tomorrow? No problem."

"You can't get it out of the bank, either. I'm not having you thinking you can just buy your way into my robes, Potter."

Sirius had to thump Peter very hard on the back to stop the strangled choking cough that Peter had suddenly come down with.

"No, no, of course not, I'll raise it. Got to do our part for charity, after all."

This appeared to be almost too much for Lily, who contracted her own choked coughs and had to leave quickly to see about a remedy.

"Did you hear? I'm in!" James said excitedly, joining the others at the table.

"If you can raise a hundred galleons," Sirius reminded him. James snorted.

"No fear, I've got a plan already."

~

Learn to fly!
Be taught by the best Quidditch player outside the leagues, JAMES POTTER
and SIRIUS 'if it hovers more than four feet above sea level I can steer it' BLACK!
See the world from a great height!
INTRODUCTORY LESSONS ONLY TWO GALLEONS!!
Join today!


"I think it might be slightly more professional if you took the whistling charm off, in all honesty," Remus said appraisingly, examining the sign as James hung it on the wall of an oft-used hallway near the common room. "It's not so bad when someone walks past on their own, but when groups go by it can be rather shrill."

"Got to make the poster stand out, don't we?" James sniffed. "Anyway, I think Pete's done a bang-up job with the whistling charm. Ta, Wormy."

"Oh, it was nothing," Peter said humbly, trying not to yawn and looking like he'd been up half the night tweaking at the spell.

"So can we interest you two in a special discount?" Sirius asked, draping his slim arms over Peter and Remus' shoulders. "Half price for the first hour."

"I'll pass on that one, if it's all the same," Remus answered. "I'm rather fond of not being stuck in the upper branches of the whomping willow."

"Oi! I was drunk that night!"

"Hardly a valid defence, Prongs. Do you really think you'll make enough by Hogsmeade?"

"With the whistling charms on the posters I will," James retorted. "Come on, we should get to Herbology."

"You lot go on ahead, I'll catch up," Sirius said, an owl by the window catching his attention.

"So how many will you take in each class?" Peter asked James.

"I was thinking I'd wait and see how much interest there is. Can't hurt to make over the target figure, can it? Leaves leftover funds for other things."

"Padfoot?" Remus noticed a darkening of Sirius' expression as he scanned the letter. James and Peter had turned a corner down the corridor already, leaving the pair alone.

"What?" Sirius blinked, as if surprised to realise he wasn't on his own. "Oh, Moony. Come on, we should get to class."

"We've got a few minutes. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing. Letter from my mother, that's all."

Remus' brow furrowed. Sirius was much too good at disguising when he was feeling troubled. "What's she say?"

Sirius shrugged. "Usual things. Doesn't exactly write to say how much she misses me, you know? Nothing really." He jammed his right hand deep into his pocket, as if to bury something there.

"Bollocks," Remus replied. "Tell me or I'll make you do your own Arithmancy homework for a month."

Sirius snorted, then looked almost lost for a moment. Then he shook himself awake again and grinned. "You'd never dare do such a thing." He looked up, catching sight of several fifth-years walking towards them. "Hie! The Gudgeon triplets, right? Dora, Davey, Diana -"

"Danielle," the boy, Davey, corrected Sirius. Dora and Danielle shot their brother a look that plainly said that Sirius could call them whatever he pleased.

"Yeah, Danielle, that's it. Look, you three are rotten at flying, pitiful really. Want some lessons? They're only two galleons each, quite a bargain."

Remus rolled his eyes, grabbing Sirius by the back of his collar and dragging him to class.

~

James arrived at dinner that evening with his left ear on upside down.

"Let's see..." Remus closed his eyes, waving his head from side to side. "I'm seeing a hallway, perhaps it's a classroom."

"And... hmm... my divination skills need a bit of polishing, but could that be perhaps a furled black umbrella wearing a mop covered in petrol as a hat? No, wait..." Sirius joined in. "Oh, I see, it's just our beloved Snape firing an acrobatic ear curse... hoping to stuff your equilibrium up, most likely."

James grunted bad-temperedly, reaching for a bread roll and picking at it with his long fingers. Remus did the counter-curse quickly, flipping the ear rightway up again.

"Feel like I've been swimming in deep water," James complained, shaking his head from side to side.

"Well, your dandruff's still dry enough," Sirius retorted, making a show of flicking nonexistent white flakes off his robe.

"Where's Wormtail got to?" James asked.

"Remedial something-or-other. Spine lessons, with any luck. First chapter, How to grow one. Get your own glass," Sirius snatched his cup of pumpkin juice, now emptied, back off James.

"Don't be cruel," Remus said absent-mindedly, attention returning to his own dinner. "I thought you two said you'd make an effort to be nicer to him this year."

"I say a lot of things, don't I?" James grinned. "All, right, Moony, don't give me that look. I'll be nice to ickle Peter."

"Good. He thinks the world of you, you know."

"So I'd noticed. And yet he won't buy flying lessons, despite the dire circumstances. Do you think the posters should mention that it's for charity? Girls seem to like that sort of thing."

"Lily's right, you are a prat," Sirius said good-naturedly.

"You say it like you have an objection," James shot back in a bland voice. "Pass the mustard?"

~

Remus stayed up past two, trying to pull his dismal transfiguration homework into some sort of coherent whole. Eventually giving it up for a lost cause, he shuffled up the stairs to the dormitory, stifling a yawn with his hand and steadying himself against the doorway. James and Sirius had, as usual, not bothered to hang their robes up when they'd changed for bed. With a small sigh of exasperated familiarity, Remus collected the discarded clothes and hung them up on pegs.

There was something heavy in one of the pockets, about the size and shape of the tiles that were constantly being pried free of the prefects' bathroom wall. With another sigh, Remus reached in to claim it back. It had been a mistake, to share the password with his friends. Anything that wasn't actually literally nailed down and was vaguely pleasing to the eye was bound to wander off sooner or later with them around.

The stifled cry of pain woke Sirius with a start. Remus was sucking on his fingers, the contents of the pocket clattering to the ground.

"Oh, hell, Moony, are you all right? Let me see." Sirius jumped from his bed and held Remus' hand gently between his own. "Ouch, that looks nasty, let's go get something to put on it, eh?"

Nodding, Remus allowed himself to be guided out of the room and towards the hospital wing.

"Is that what you got in the post today?" he asked quietly as they walked, still cradling his blistered fingers against his chest. They'd left the antique silver snuffbox where it had fallen on the floor of the dormitory.

"Yeah," Sirius said in a voice shaking with fury. "I should have remembered, and put it out of the way. I'm an idiot, I'm sorry."

"It was for me, wasn't it?"

Sirius sighed, his head dropping. "Yeah," he echoed himself.

"From your mum?"

"She's a hag. A nasty, desiccated, vile, putrid -"

"What did the letter say?" Remus' voice was dangerously soft. Sirius paused, rubbing his face with his hands and turning to look Remus in the eye.

"Nothing. The same garbage as always. The usual harping on my 'questionable choice to live away from my rightful place', as if she gave a toss that I wasn't around getting underfoot and rowing with her anymore, and that she'd heard a rumour that at least some of 'the company I was now keeping' might find her little gift of interest. Said I should be ashamed of myself."

"She knows, then?" Remus' words were barely a whisper.

"She doesn't know anything, the idiotic old gorgon. Rumours, stupid gossip. It's always around, it doesn't mean anything."

"Your mother sent me silver, Sirius. Pure silver, from the look of it." Remus held his hand up. The fingers and half the palm were burned horribly. "I think it means quite a lot, personally."

"Moony..." Sirius, lost for words, put his arms around Remus and held him for a long moment, both of them trembling. "She can't do anything. She doesn't know, she just thinks she knows... something else she can use as a weapon against me, I suppose. But she won't win. I won't let her win, or hurt the people I... care about." Sirius sniffed, as if fighting off tears, and then grinned at Remus in the dim light. "Come on, let's get that hand looked at."

~

FOR SALE
One silver snuffbox
Perfect for keeping powdered ingredients in!
Probably riddled with romantic and aristocratic hexes and curses!
Sort of attractive in a horrible ghastly way!
Snake design makes this item perfect as a gift for wooing that slinky Slytherin into the sack!
See Sirius Black for more information.

"I do have to give them credit, they've got more ingenuity than I thought. I'm not sure whether this counts as making the money fairly, though, flogging heirlooms," Lily mused, turning away from the new notice back to her studies. Remus, who was the only other occupant of the common room, looked up and gave her a slight smile.

"He'd be selling it anyway, he's not just doing it to help James out of his mournfully dateless state."

"Mmm, all right then," Lily said generously. "I'll let the money count towards the hundred, in that case. What did you do to your hand?"

"Picked up a hot kettle the wrong way," Remus answered easily, glancing down at the bandages with an absent expression.

"Boys." Lily shook her head with the same mild amusement she'd been wearing more and more around James and his friends lately. "You can't do anything without hurting yourselves, it's really quite sad. How's your Mum?"

"Hmm?"

"You said yesterday that you have to leave to look after her for a few days next week, you can't tell me you've forgotten already. Sometimes I think the four of you must do memory erases on each other constantly as a practical joke, I can hardly ever get a proper reply out of you about anything."

"Oh, right. Mum's fine."

Lily snorted. "Well, I'm glad you remembered that, at least."

Remus looked up properly now, putting his book aside, and grinned. "You know, you're quite a bitch."

Lily laughed. "With that tone of voice it almost sounds like a compliment!"

"I meant it as one. You're going to be good for James." Remus' smiled widened. "If he ever gets the money together to deserve you, of course."

"I think you all need keepers, not girlfriends," said Lily.

"I'm inclined to suspect most of the teachers agree with you."

"So, do you have one?" Lily's eyelashes were red today, making her eyes almost inhumanly green-looking.

"A keeper?"

"No," Lily retorted drolly.

Remus smirked, shaking his head. "I fear my own romantic exploits pale beside the show you and James have put on for us over the years. What made you decide to agree after all the times you've told him to drop dead?"

Lily shrugged, waving her hand about vaguely. "Premature nostalgia, I think. It doesn't seem real to think that this is the last year we'll be here, and I thought it would be wrong somehow if I never let him pester me into it."

"Speak of the devil," said Remus, nodding hello to the three figures climbing through the portrait hole. "In plural, no less."

"How's the fundraising going, Potter?"

"Perfectly well, Evans. I hope you're looking forward to the next weekend out of the school as much as I am," James replied in his I-am-very-suave-and-somewhat-roguish voice, which always made him sound like he wasn't quite through the tail end of puberty yet.

"I'll leave you boys to... whatever rubbish boys get up to." She smiled at Remus on her way out, which left James looking vaguely piqued. Sirius looked vastly unamused also.

"Why the mass invasion of animagi in the common room?" Remus asked, raising his eyebrows at the twin stormy expressions he was now face with.

"We were looking for you, of course. James has made his hundred," Peter explained.

"Good-o, though I get the feeling now that she'd have agreed even if you didn't," Remus answered, standing to shake James' hand.

"Yeah, you looked like the two of you were getting chummy there," James sniped back. He'd never had the patience for grudges, though, so he grinned cheerfully and started flipping a stray galleon from his pocket high into the air, catching it on the back of his palm. "I feel like a bite to eat. Anyone up for a kitchen raid?"

"I'll come along," Peter said eagerly. Sirius and Remus both declined.

"I'm glad they've nicked off, I was hoping to talk to you alone for a minute," admitted Sirius when the invisibility cloak had been retrieved and the expedition embarked upon.

"Hmm?"

"Well, I sold the snuffbox. And I was thinking, it was actually yours; my mother was kind enough to give it to you and everything. So really, the profit's yours too."

"Sirius, you don't have to -"

"You're right, I don't 'have to' anything. I want to. Don't give me that look, Moony. It's not about her, it's about you. I'm not just doing it to spite her, I don't even care enough about it to think of making an effort to bother her. So me giving you the money I made from selling her wretched little trinket isn't just my way of using you to get back at her, all right?"

"You planned that speech, I can tell," Remus answered after a moment's pause. "You always get this lift at the end of your phrases when you've spent twenty minutes at the mirror perfecting the wording. But I appreciate the thought. I'll treat you to a few rounds of Butterbeers, when we're following James and Lily on their date, with the funds."

Sirius grinned. "Everyone wins that way."

"We return, with victuals and... er... food," James' voice said seconds before James himself reappeared. His arms, and Peter's beside him, were laden with pilfered leftovers. "You know, I suspect that Evans might be the love of my life. Can't stop thinking about her."

"James." Sirius bit into a chicken drumstick and shook his head. "You have a new love of your life every week."

"'s the beauty of youth, isn't it?" James grinned. Sirius and Peter laughed, but Remus just smiled mildly and ate a fruit bun.

~

"Well, I should be off. Not much point doing anything tonight," Remus sighed. He was seated in the centre of his bed, watching the fat chilly drops of rain slide down the windowpanes. "This'll be a storm before evening's out, and anyway I've got this," he held his bandaged hand up. "So it would be a fairly wretched night for you lot. And I know it's rotten, trying to navigate about the shack with whopping big antlers sticking out of your skull, Prongs."

"Well, I do have a lot of homework," Peter said nervously, clearly glad of an excuse to stay out of the downpour.

"We'll make it up to you next month, Moony," James said, patting him on the shoulder. "Take care."

Remus nodded, holding in another sigh. Sirius swung his long lean legs off his own bed and fell into step beside him. "I'll come along. Can't be stuffed doing that stupid essay on dragon poaching anyway."

When they got to the shack, Sirius turned his not inconsiderable charm on full-bore and persuaded Remus to come outside for a quick twilit romp before the moon rose. The rain felt good on his skin, which was always sensitive in the hours leading up to the change. Sirius shifted into the huge black dog and darted around and through the fallen pieces of fencepost still dotted around the perimeter of the overgrown garden, yipping and yelping with such enthusiasm that Remus couldn't help laughing. When the first thunder cracked, though, he shook his head and squelched back to the front door, beckoning for Sirius to follow.

"Wonderful, now you'll smell like wet dog all night." Remus dodged out of the way as Sirius shook the droplets from his fur.

Things began to shard then, as they always did as the night began this time of the month. His ribs, curving and creaking like the framework in the belly of a ship as they moved and grew and changed their shape. That part of a boat was called a futtock, a fact Remus could remember discovering in first year when they'd been studying sea serpents in Care of Magical Creatures. James and Peter had chanted the word all afternoon.

Everything was boats tonight it seemed, for Sirius was an anchor. Remus felt his own hand, grown gnarled and strong and changing more with each second, grasping at Sirius's arm. And that must have hurt, some spark of reason still inside him knew, but Sirius didn't flinch away. He stood there, crooning meaningless words and brushing Remus' hair back off his aching, stretching face, until the scales tipped from one side to the other and there was more wolf than boy. After that there wasn't a name for him, this other, just the knowledge of safety and companionship. Black fur and a rough pink tongue lapping at the tears and scratches on the wolf's skin.

Packmate the wolf thought as it nipped at the back of the other's neck, to remind them both who was alpha. The others who come are not here, but he is. And that seemed right, natural as the rain and the moon.

~

Ow.

Even the space between his eyebrows ached when he winced.

For a while Remus just lay half-asleep, hoping futilely that the pain would subside. The pop and crackle of the small fire in the grate was what roused him in the end, the smell of scones and tea.

"You've been out this morning," Remus murmured, weighing up the pros and cons of rolling over to face Sirius. In the end he made the effort, shifting on the often-mended but neat bed, which now wore several new rents in the fabric.

"Hogsmeade's great in the morning, Moony, one day we'll have to nip down here so you can see it. Everything smells like fresh bread and bacon and eggs. I thought about getting some, but thought it might be a bit much for you this morning, so I just stuck to scones and apricot jam."

"Mmm," Remus smiled, more sleepy than truly tired, as Sirius picked up his burnt hand and began to re-bandage it efficiently. "Lily would never believe me, you know, if I told her that you were capable of being this considerate."

"Do you fancy her, then?" The tone was far too nonchalant to be the least bit convincing, and the knot at the end of the bandage was tight enough to pinch.

"You're even more of a git than James, Black," snorted Remus, sitting up and pulling the blanket around his shoulders before loosening the dressings on his hand to a comfortable level. The breakfast tray was resting on a knocked-over footstool with one leg missing, precariously balanced in a fashion only Sirius would think was secure. "Funny, isn't it? Never would have expected there to be much good for her to bring out in him, but there you go."

Sirius chuckled, levitating a cup of tea over and handing it to Remus.

"Ugh, you always put too much sugar in, I can feel my teeth rotting just sipping this," Remus complained, taking another long slurp of the drink. "Thanks for coming with me last night, Padfoot."

"Where else was I going to be?" asked Sirius, munching on a jam-smothered scone. The fire sparked a bit, the flames a little lower now.

"Moony -" he said at the same moment that Remus said "Sirius -"

They both laughed. "You first," Sirius said. Remus nodded, putting his teacup aside.

"All right. It would be fair to say that you know as much about werewolves as I do, wouldn't it?"

"I should think so," Sirius said with a nod. "Read enough ruddy books about them. All kinds of horrible stuff, trials in France where the only bits of evidence were chewed-up fingers and things like that. Completely foul."

"Thankyou for sharing that particularly charming image." Remus' voice was droll. "Now you know why I've never been overly fond of History of Magic. Did the books you read outline what's true and what's false about common superstition?"

Sirius nodded again, obviously puzzled as to where the conversation was going. "Well, the full-moon business is true, obviously. And not being able to touch silver. Chopping off arms or legs doesn't fix you, though, and neither does being baptised again. But why are you asking me this, Moony? Surely you know it better than I do."

"Did your books," Remus' voice was quieter now, his fingers picking at the edge of the blanket resting across his shoulders. "Did they mention werewolf families?"

"Not much. Well, that one that came out last year did, the Hairy Snout one. It said that most people are too frightened of werewolves to trust them, and so they're mostly lonely - the werewolves, I mean. But they're really loyal if they do end up with families, because they mate for life and protect their young and all that sort of thing. Sounds dreadful, to be honest."

"Mmm." Remus nodded quietly. Sirius decided silently that yes, it was true, he was personally even more git-like than Mr James Potter, lord high king of gits.

"Oh, Moony, I didn't mean that. I just meant, being alone, having everyone afraid like that..."

"I used to be afraid myself," Remus said quietly. "Of getting too close to people. When you know you've only got one shot at it... but I've been thinking a lot, lately, and something Lily said made me think even more." He shot Sirius a wry grin. "This is the part where you point out that it would be impossible for me to think more than I already do."

Sirius didn't speak. After a beat Remus began talking again. "I started thinking that, well; in for a penny, in for a pound, if you see what I mean. I might never have another chance, I might die young - werewolves often do, even now. And who's to say that giving this love stuff a try when I'm older will work out any better, anyway? Maybe everyone only gets one love of their life, regardless."

Sirius swallowed, his throat somehow dry and thick all at once. "Remus, I -"

"What I'm trying to say... and completely mangling, of course... is that I don't care what happens later. I'll worry about that when it gets here, won't I? Life's always changing, people move out of home and finish school and get work and fall in love and all that every day without stopping to fret about it. I'm tired of being cautious, of reminding myself all the time that I don't get to do all the things everyone else takes for granted. I..."

Then Remus gave up talking, because it was more of a babble really, and kissed Sirius on the mouth.

Sirius tried to protest, and failed for several reasons. These reasons included the way that, when he raised one hand to push Remus away gently, the tips of his fingers grazed against one pink pebbled nipple. Also the way that Remus seemed to anticipate the protest and growled warningly, sending a soft thrum though the thin chest under Sirius' surprised hand. Also Remus' own hands, kneading into Sirius' thighs as he crawled in closer.

"Don't protect me." The words were huffed, breathless, as Remus moved his mouth away from Sirius's lips down along the edge of his chin. There were so many other things he wanted to say, things like I'm sick of being in control, let me lose it just this once, but he'd always wondered what the skin of Sirius's neck would taste like against his tongue and speaking words seemed like a very bad course of action in comparison.

Sirius's hair was so fine it was almost slippery. One or two of the smooth black locks were beginning to stick to the sweat-dewed skin of Sirius's forehead, and Remus ran his fingertips across them in wonder, never expecting them to feel so silky to the touch, so unfamiliar.

Then Sirius moved, dipping Remus back so sharply that the warm lights of the room seemed to spin for a moment. Holding him, steadying him, as if Remus actually had said all the words he had in his head. They were kissing again, tongue-tips teasing at lips and breaths shared back and forth, and Remus' eyes prickled with the threat of tears. He let his eyelids, suddenly heavier than they had ever been, drop half-mast and felt them tickle against the skin of Sirius's cheekbone.

Grasped by some sudden, wicked impulse, Remus slipped one hand under the rucked-up hem of Sirius's robe, conscious now of his own nudity and then abruptly discovering that he wasn't actually very under-dressed by comparison, since Sirius wasn't wearing anything under the well-made outer garment.

This hair was more familiar, a fact which would have made Remus chuckle if he'd any room in his head for thoughts anymore. Coarse, thick, not so different at all from Padfoot's coat. Remus had never held someone else's cock before, and spent a few long seconds running his fingers over the length and marvelling at the differences and similarities with his own. They were both achingly hard, and Sirius gave a strangled sort of groan when Remus wrapped his fingers tight and began an uneven, jerky rhythm.

"Ungh... Moony..." Sirius muttered, tipping his head back and leaving that delectable pale throat defenceless against Remus' mouth. Remus was, he realised dimly, frotting Sirius's thigh in time with the movement of his hand, the finer points of his position and situation somewhat blurred by the lust hazing his brain. "Oh, hell, Remus, I'm..."

"If you don't want this, I'll stop. If it's too fast..." And it honestly hurt, like a bad hangover, to regain that necessary control Remus lived with every day. He didn't want to worry, didn't want to stop and think and consider, but he was so used to it by now that the hurt was a familiar ache. Sirius deserved to have the chance to make him stop, at least, though Remus suspected he would just perish on the spot if that happened.

"Too fast? You loon..." Sirius barked, laughing breathlessly as his hips found a better position under Remus, sending a shiver through them both. "If you'd waited much longer I would have given up and just jumped you. I've been practising what I'd say in front of the mirror, but that stuff you said was better anyway. Oh hell..." Sirius shuddered again, grabbing Remus into a frantic lip-bruising teeth-colliding kiss as he climaxed. The surprise and shock of the movement meant it took a moment before the words sank in, and then Remus almost laughed. Then oh, Remus was shaking and writhing and when exactly had Sirius put his hand there and usually, when he looked at the sky at night Remus only noticed the moon but now all he could see was stars.

~

"Dear, when thou hast finished thy task, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, come to me, my hand for to ask, for thou then art a true love of mine."

"James, you sound like a cat being strangled," Sirius said, sprawled on his back on the grass down near the river. It was seven o'clock on Saturday morning, a time Sirius had always thought must simply be an old wives' tale, and it was the day of both the Hogwarts weekend out and the Hogsmeade fair. The bag of galleons was securely tied and planted on the ground beside James.

"How d'you know what a cat being strangled sounds like, then? Anyway, sod off, I do not."

"'fraid you do. Shouldn't you be making yourself pretty for your Lilykins now? I can't believe I let you drag me out of bed just because you're having jitters."

"Wasn't your bed anyway, you were in with Moony again. Someone's going to get cluey if you never leave your sheets in a mess anymore."

Sirius snorted. "What, the house elves? They're all right, they like me because I let them eat whatever food gets left in my pockets. They won't spread gossip about where I sleep."

"I hope it is sleep that you two are doing behind the bed-curtains, mind. At least when Peter and I are in the room," James said in a reprimanding tone that sounded disturbingly like Professor McGonagall. Sirius's responding grin was, aptly enough, rather wolfish. James threw a handful of grass at him.

~

"Has the ungulate gone off with Lily, then?" Remus asked sleepily when Sirius crawled back under the covers behind him. It was nine now, still much to early to consider stirring when there wasn't any reason at all to abandon the warmth and soft pillows of the bed.

"Mmm," Sirius said by way of confirmation, wrapping one arm across Remus' pyjama-clad chest. "And Peter's off somewhere or other, too. Gorging himself on tongue-tying fairy floss and barking hotdogs at the fair, no doubt. There's nobody here but us chickens, as the joke goes."

"What joke's that? Padfoot, your feet are cold and damp, get them off my shin this instant."

"How will they get warm if I don't keep them under the covers, answer me that. The joke where the man's trying to rob a henhouse and the farmer wakes up and hears a noise. The farmer goes out to the coop and yells 'who's there?'. The man hiding inside... he hid inside when he saw the farmer coming, I should have mentioned that... shouts back 'nobody here but us chickens!'."

"Your jokes are always awful, Sirius," Remus said, chuckling nonetheless as he rolled over to tuck his face under Sirius's chin. "What's the weather like outside?"

Sirius groaned. "You don't want to go out, surely? Not when it's so nice in here and we've all day to ourselves. I know you said you'd buy me a Butterbeer, but that can wait until another time, honestly."

"Lord, no!" Remus looked horrified at the suggestion. "I just wondered for the sake of the people going to the fair."

"Nice enough, I didn't notice really."

"Of course not."

"Shut it, you. I was thinking last night about how you're all different goldy-browns, your hair and your skin and everything. Like brandy and wheat. Your eyes are a bit greenier... sort of, I dunno, tweed maybe."

"I think you deserve to be kicked out of bed, if that's your idea of a compliment. Good thing I don't fancy you for your brains."

"Oi, I'm not being insulted when I'm trying to have a nice simple sleep-in with you, all right?"

"All right." The words sounded so completely content that Sirius couldn't help moving his head back slightly to look Remus in the eye.

"What're you so happy about?"

Remus grinned, tawny sleep-rumpled hair falling in his eyes. "A nice simple sleep-in, with you."

Sirius didn't quite know what he could say to something like that, so he just hugged Remus close and stroked his skin lightly as they drowsed.

~

A public notice, to one James Potter:

Potter, if you think a successful date consists
of you showing off by winning me that hideous
stuffed clabbert toy and then spending three
hours boasting about how marvellous you are
at everything, you are developmentally driving
in reverse. If you don't try much, much harder
next time, I will hex you myself.
Please do not think I am joking about this.

Signed
Lily Evans

"It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't laugh whenever you got close to it," Remus commented as he stood well back from the large-lettered sign on the Gryffindor noticeboard.

"He's going to be livid," Sirius agreed, wincing in sympathy. "Ah, well, the course of true love never did run without the occasional public humiliation and all that rot."

"Just so long as you never advertise any rows we have like this, Padfoot, I shan't complain. Do you think we should take it down? I mean, it really is awful... oh dear, here's James now."

"Pete told me there was a notice..." James started to say, trailing off as he caught sight of the poster. It laughed for a while as he read it, the edges fluttering in the breeze coming through an open window.

"Look, mate, maybe you should just -" Sirius started to say kindly. James turned, his face broken into a wide and joyful grin.

"Next time! She'll go out with me again! I'm in!"

He raced off with a whoop of delight, no doubt in search of Lily.

Remus and Sirius stared after him for a moment, shrugged, and wandered back over to their chess game.

Twenty minutes later the board was chaos, despite no moves having been made, as one of the white bishops decided it was high time the pawns went to bed, and the red knight cleared his throat and declared loudly that students were a race entirely comprised of very boring people more interested in sucking on each other's faces than a good hearty game of chess.

"Oh, do be quiet!" the red queen hissed at him. "Can't you see that they're horribly romantic?"

"That one's got 'is hand under the other one's robe! Shameless behaviour!"

"Sometimes I wish I were a white queen, just so I could hit you with my chair."

Remus reached out one-handed, blindly sweeping the pieces back into their drawer.

"Bit of a mutiny we had there," Sirius commented. Disturbed by a gust of wind, the poster started laughing cheerfully again.

"She was right, though," Remus replied. "We're horrible."

"Horribly romantic, she said."

"You say my eyes are tweed, I say what I like about us."

"I can see it now - ten, twenty years' time, you're still going to mention tweed."

"But of course, my dear Padfoot. And we'll still be horrible, I'm sure."