Stuck - an MWPP fic
Stuck
by auberus - inspired by a line from annie sewell-jennings' 'boiling point'
From Remus' list of the Top Five Worst Ideas Sirius Black has ever had:
# 3. Licking a metal pole in the middle of winter just to prove Remus wrong.
"That's rubbish!" Sirius scoffs, pausing in mid-throw to comment on Remus' conversation with Peter. The four of them are outside in the courtyard despite the cold, because after the incident in the Potions classroom, Professor McGonagall has forbidden them to play any form of Quidditch indoors and Lily Evans has interpreted the stricture to include pass-and-catch as well. At least, that's why Sirius and James are outside, and because James is outside of course Peter has to be as
well.
And Remus, who would really rather be curled up in front of the fire in the common room with a book is for some unfathomable reason out in the cold with them, sitting on a bench talking to Peter while Sirius and James throw the Quaffle back and forth with ever-increasing force. Although maybe the reason isn't that unfathomable, he admits quietly to himself. He belongs here, with James and Peter and Sirius, in a way that he has never belonged anywhere else, even between the pages of his books.
"It's not rubbish," he tells Sirius.
"Yes, it is!" Sirius insists. "It's ridiculous! It's like your mum telling you that if you keep making that face, it'll stick that way."
"Your mum said that to you?" Remus asks, not really able to picture Sirius' mum saying anything so normal.
"Well, no. But I spent the summer at James', remember?" He raised his voice to a high-pitched falsetto. "James Potter! If you don't stop making that face at your father's back, Merlin help me, I'll hex it in place permanently!" His irritated tone and harassed expression are a good enough impression of James' mum that Remus laughs out loud and Peter nearly falls off the bench in amusement.
"Very funny," James says, rolling his eyes. "Are you going to throw the Quaffle at some point in the next century?" Sirius obliges, throwing it hard enough that it knocks the breath out of him in a whoosh and sends him over backwards into the snow before turning his attention back to Remus.
"Seriously, Moony. It's absurd."
"What's absurd?" James asks, apparently forsaking the idea of vengeance for the moment.
"Moony says that if you lick a metal pole when it's cold out, your tongue will stick to it," Sirius tells him.
James frowns. "I've never heard of that happening."
"Neither have I," Peter chimes in. "Of course, wizards don't use much metal, not for building."
"And we certainly aren't stupid enough to go about licking it when we do," Sirius finishes, with that irritating, unconscious superiority that comes from ten generations of pureblood arrogance. He considers. "I don't think any one is, even Muggles."
"My cousin Albert is," Remus says glumly. "He got stuck to my old swing-set over Christmas hols."
"I still don't believe you," Sirius says stubbornly. "You're having me on."
"No, it's true," Remus tells him, not entirely sure why he's pressing the point. Nothing short of tangible, visible proof has ever convinced Sirius Black of anything he didn't want to believe, and Remus certainly isn't about to go lick the gate to prove himself right. "Aunt Doreen had to pour lukewarm water on his tongue for half an hour, and it was swollen for the next two days. He couldn't say a word." Which had actually been rather refreshing. Albert was an idiot, and when he wasn't talking, the urge to hex him hadn't been nearly as strong.
"Sure, Moony," Sirius says with a laugh, the almost-chilly one that means he doesn't believe anything he's hearing but has decided to treat it as a joke rather than a lie. Remus hates that laugh. It makes him wonder what life as the scion of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black is really like, if Sirius doesn't even trust him. Remus has only lied to Sirius about one thing, ever. Maybe once was all it took.
"I'm telling the truth!" he says, a bit too loudly perhaps, but he wants Sirius to believe him.
"Are not!" And now Sirius is getting flushed, pink staining his high cheekbones. He even manages to look aristocratic when he's angry, whereas Remus just looks like a scarred tomato, no matter what Peter says.
"Yes. I. Am," Remus says, keeping his voice as even as possible. Sirius can bring his temper to a boil unlike anyone else, and if he allowed it, their arguments would probably denigrate into are-not-am-so - which is ridiculous, as they are nearly thirteen years old. If this keeps up much longer, he is going to go and lick the bloody gate, and deal with the ridicule, and the swollen tongue, and with being stuck with his head to one side for nearly an hour like cousin Albert, if only because it is the only way to make Sirius believe him. Vaguely, under the heat of rising temper, he is aware that this is a stupid, stupid, stupid argument to be having, except that like everything else Sirius gets involved in, it's gotten complicated and deeper and more somehow. Just like Sirius himself.
"Oh, stuff it, Remus," Sirius growls. Remus is a step towards the gate when he realises that Sirius is two steps ahead of him, moving with deliberate purpose, as though whichever of them makes it to the gate first will be proven right. Sirius gets there first, pauses to shoot Remus a storm-grey glare over his shoulder, and puts his tongue to the gate.
Where it promptly sticks.
The look on Sirius' face when he realises this is one of the funniest things Remus Lupin has ever seen. It is part chagrin, part apology, and part sheer outrage at the indignity of his situation. Sirius, it appears, is also capable of resembling a tomato.
Remus is doing his best not to laugh - has almost succeeded in wiping any trace of a smile from his face - when James and Peter come up behind them.
"Bloody hell!" James says, and starts laughing, which makes Sirius start to try and pull his tongue free. He looks ridiculous, but Remus can tell that he is also embarrased and furious, and he knows that if he laughs at Sirius now, it will just make it worse. So he swallows his laughter, gives James and Peter a look that should by rights kill them where they stand, and puts a hand on Sirius' shoulder.
"Sirius, stop pulling. You'll hurt yourself." That works, but the look Sirius gives him says 'how do I get loose?'
"Hot water, remember?" Remus tells him, and Sirius says something that he can't make out the words of, but which means quite clearly, 'don't tell anyone else.' There is a 'please' in that look, too, which reminds him just what Bellatrix and her little coterie would make of this.
In the end, Remus spends half an hour pouring lukewarm water over Sirius' tongue, while James and Peter laugh themselves sick. After fifteen minutes, Remus has resolved to hex them both at the nearest opportunity. By the time Sirius is loose, he has decided to do so repeatedly, and the look on Sirius' face tells Remus that they are thinking along similar lines.
He makes Sirius go to the infirmary once he's free of the gate, because there's no reason for him to spend the next three days unable to talk, and Madame Pomfrey keeps secrets better than any father confessor. Sirius remains unconvinced, until Remus points out that he can hardly hex James and Peter if he can't speak. After that, Sirius goes quite willingly.
Once he is safely inside, Remus goes back to the dormitory and laughs until tears stream down his face. James and Peter come in just as he's finishing, and Peter is saying rapturously, "If only we'd had a camera!" Which just sets them all off again.
They are still laughing when Sirius returns, and for a moment, he looks as though he is going to hex all three of them into next month. Then his mouth twitches, and half a second later, he is laughing just as hard as any of them, and everything is fine.
***
Author's Notes: This is set in the winter of second year, not long after Sirius, James, and Peter figured out Remus' secret. It's unbeta'd, so tell me if I screwed up.