31 Days of Fic: Twenty-Three
Eight days left. I *am* going to finish this, never fear.
This one is for
dr_schreaber, who read my mind while I was writing it.
May 23, 1976:
"This will be on the exam," Professor Zenophilus says as he dismisses the class. Sirius winces, because he's spent the last half-hour staring at Remus instead of paying attention in Arithmancy.
It's not his fault, really. Remus was sitting directly in front of him, and Sirius couldn't help but be entranced by the way Remus' hair curls a little bit at the nape of his neck, by the motion of his shoulders under his robe, the tilt of his head, the curve of his ear... no one can be expected to concentrate on Transfigurational proofs with that sort of distraction in front of them even if it will be on the exam.
"Coming, Padfoot?" Remus asks, and Sirius realizes that he's still staring. He ducks his head to hide his blush as he gathers up his things and shoves them into his bag, then follows Remus out the door. James and Peter join them on the second floor, and the four of them head down to the dungeons.
James is talking, something about Evans and a charmed quill, but Sirius, half a step behind the others, isn't really listening. Instead, he's studying the way Remus' fingers, pale and ink-stained, wrap around the strap of his bag; the half-hidden gleam of amusement in Remus' eyes as he listens to Prongs natter on, the way his --
"Padfoot!" James says loudly.
"What?!" Sirius asks.
"Are you all right, mate? That's the third time I've said your name."
"I'm fine," Sirius says, panicking. "Just fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He laughs, just to show everyone that he is indeed fine, and finds himself on the receiving end of three funny looks.
"Are you sure?" Peter asks.
"Yes!" Sirius exclaims. "Everything is wonderful! Everything's great! Perfect, even!" He's almost grateful when, a moment later, something catches at his foot and he trips, tumbling down the stairs in a clatter of books and papers and bottles of ink. Falling flat on his face is, somehow, less embarrassing.
***
( day twenty-two)*( day twenty-four)
***
Author's Notes: Poor Sirius. He just can't seem to catch a break.
Professor Zenophilus' name is drawn from the Greek philosopher Zeno, best known for Zeno's Paradox, which states that for a runner to get from A to B, he or she must first traverse half the distance, and then half the remaining distance and then half the remaining distance ad infinitum. Since, clearly, the runner cannot perform infinitely many steps in a finite amount of time, motion is an impossibility, and is therefore an illusion. So, all the world is just a dream. Roll over and go back to sleep. Zeno is also the last entry in any dictionary of calculus terms.
As always, feedback is love.
This one is for
dr_schreaber, who read my mind while I was writing it.
May 23, 1976:
"This will be on the exam," Professor Zenophilus says as he dismisses the class. Sirius winces, because he's spent the last half-hour staring at Remus instead of paying attention in Arithmancy.
It's not his fault, really. Remus was sitting directly in front of him, and Sirius couldn't help but be entranced by the way Remus' hair curls a little bit at the nape of his neck, by the motion of his shoulders under his robe, the tilt of his head, the curve of his ear... no one can be expected to concentrate on Transfigurational proofs with that sort of distraction in front of them even if it will be on the exam.
"Coming, Padfoot?" Remus asks, and Sirius realizes that he's still staring. He ducks his head to hide his blush as he gathers up his things and shoves them into his bag, then follows Remus out the door. James and Peter join them on the second floor, and the four of them head down to the dungeons.
James is talking, something about Evans and a charmed quill, but Sirius, half a step behind the others, isn't really listening. Instead, he's studying the way Remus' fingers, pale and ink-stained, wrap around the strap of his bag; the half-hidden gleam of amusement in Remus' eyes as he listens to Prongs natter on, the way his --
"Padfoot!" James says loudly.
"What?!" Sirius asks.
"Are you all right, mate? That's the third time I've said your name."
"I'm fine," Sirius says, panicking. "Just fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He laughs, just to show everyone that he is indeed fine, and finds himself on the receiving end of three funny looks.
"Are you sure?" Peter asks.
"Yes!" Sirius exclaims. "Everything is wonderful! Everything's great! Perfect, even!" He's almost grateful when, a moment later, something catches at his foot and he trips, tumbling down the stairs in a clatter of books and papers and bottles of ink. Falling flat on his face is, somehow, less embarrassing.
***
( day twenty-two)*( day twenty-four)
***
Author's Notes: Poor Sirius. He just can't seem to catch a break.
Professor Zenophilus' name is drawn from the Greek philosopher Zeno, best known for Zeno's Paradox, which states that for a runner to get from A to B, he or she must first traverse half the distance, and then half the remaining distance and then half the remaining distance ad infinitum. Since, clearly, the runner cannot perform infinitely many steps in a finite amount of time, motion is an impossibility, and is therefore an illusion. So, all the world is just a dream. Roll over and go back to sleep. Zeno is also the last entry in any dictionary of calculus terms.
As always, feedback is love.