A Paucity of Peers (scarvesnhats Day 17)
Title: A Paucity of Peers
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them.
Wordcount: 1078
Prompt: Falling leaves.
Notes: Sixth year. Sirius isn't as awake as he claims he is. Remus copes. Silly fluff.
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Remus trailed up the stairs to Gryffindor tower, listening to the wind wuther around the castle. It was late and quiet and the halls seemed vaster than usual. He paused by a window to catch his breath. Outside the leaves were whirling by, caught in the wind. The light from the corridor made them glow briefly, gold and red, before they vanished into the dark once more.
It was cold and he hunched his shoulders, pulling his robes around him more tightly. Winter was coming now, sure and steady. It seemed too long since summer, when the nights had been short.
He heard a distant whoop and heaved himself up. He wasn’t in the mood to get caught by Peeves.
The Fat Lady tutted at him as he approached. “You’re out after hours. No example for a prefect to be setting.”
“I had detention,” he said wearily. “Ziggy Stardust.”
“Detention!” the Fat Lady scolded but swung open. Remus sighed and scrambled through the portrait hole. Next time he wasn’t going to let either Lily or Sirius have any say in what the password was.
The common room was dark. He shouldn’t have been surprised - with the older students struck worst by the flu, there weren’t many people likely to have stayed up this late.
The wind howled again and he heard the flat splatter of wet leaves hitting the window. The fire hissed and spat and somebody made a snuffling noise.
Intrigued, Remus crossed over to the fireplace.
Sirius Black was asleep on the sofa. His head was flung back over the arm, one hand trailed against the floor and he had half-kicked his shoes off so they dangled from his toes. He was snoring.
Remus settled into the nearest chair and studied him. It always fascinated him how someone so full of energy and motion could sleep so peacefully. The dim firelight cast red lights in his dark hair and made his skin golden. His brows were relaxed and his lips just parted. Remus wished he had the right to reach out and trace the line of his cheek, to brush those lips with his fingertips.
He shook himself and nudged Sirius’ shoulder. “Padfoot, wake up. You’re going to hurt in the morning if you stay there.”
Sirius stirred and muttered, “Moony. Not breakfast yet.”
“It’s the middle of the night, you daft twat. Wake up.”
Sirius blinked at him. “Awake.”
“You going to move, then? You’ll ache if you don’t.”
“Shan’t. I’m flexible.”
“Sirius.”
“Remus.” He blinked again and then sat up a little. “Detention? Been gone ages.”
“It was a long and unpleasant task,” Remus said sourly.
“Dusting portraits in the Great Hall?”
Remus shook his head. “McGonagall changed her mind. Sent me to Pomfrey. Been cleaning bedpans.”
“Just for righteous hexing?” Sirius demanded indignantly. “What if you get the flu?”
“Immune system.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither’s life,” Remus said lightly, biting his lip. Sirius, outraged, with his hair on end where it had been trapped by the sofa cushions, had lifted his mood. “Why aren’t you asleep? Plotting Snape’s downfall?”
“That’s what History of Magic lessons are for. I was waiting for you.” Then he yawned enormously and Remus felt his jaw ache in sympathy.
“You didn’t have to.”
“Course I did. Going back to sleep now.”
Remus grabbed his arm and pulled. “Not on the sofa. Bed.”
“You’re a bully. Mean, prefect bully.”
“And you revert to a six-year-old when you’re not awake.”
“Am awake.” He surged up and set off towards the stairs, dragging Remus after him.
“That’s the girls’ stairs.”
“What? Bugger.” He turned round and Remus chuckled.
Sirius swung back to stare at him. Remus smiled. Sirius’ eyes narrowed. Remus waited.
“I did not fall for that. I know which stairs are which.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Did not. Going to bed now.” He headed for the stairs at a vague stumble and Remus followed at a safe distance. He had no wish to be toppled if Sirius fell asleep before he reached his bed.
When he made it into the room he found Sirius collapsed onto his own bed, feet sticking off the end.
“Budge,” he said, pushing at his shoulder.
Sirius snuffled into the pillow and grabbed an armful of blanket.
“Padfoot, that’s my bed. Budge.”
Sirius’ breathing was steadying again.
Remus eyed the three empty beds. They looked cold and shadowy. He really didn’t want to have to pick one. He had a bed and he didn’t know what was on their sheets.
“Padfoot! Move!”
Sirius turned over, kicked his shoes off and grabbed Remus’ arm, tugging him down beside him. Remus yelped and then found himself draped with sleep-addled Sirius.
“I meant to your own bed.”
Sirius cracked his eyes open and stared at him reproachfully. “It’s over there.”
“Well-observed. Why are you over here?”
“It’s too quiet. Can’t see you from there.”
“You can’t usually see me.”
“Can see someone, though.” He shoved his head into the pillow and said, muffled, “Didn’t sleep last night. Or night before.”
“Why not?”
“Too quiet. S’okay when James and Pete are here but they’re not. Kept waking up and thinking I was at - back there. Thought they’d got me back somehow.”
Remus sighed and said gently, “I was here.”
“You sleep too quietly. Kept having to get up and check.”
“We can’t share, Sirius. It’s not-” He couldn’t think of the right words. How to explain that he didn’t want him in his bed because he wanted him there too much?
Sirius was looking at him, wary and not quite pleading. “Who’s going to know?”
That was a fair point. He wasn’t sure he could argue with that.
“See,” Sirius said happily and contorted himself until he was under the blankets. “I win.” He latched onto Remus’ arm again and dropped against the pillows. Within moments, he was asleep.
Remus, who wasn’t quite sure how he had lost the argument, blinked down at him. He tried to tug his arm free. Sirius tightened his grip. With a sigh, Remus shoved his shoes off and tugged the blankets round. He was a prefect. He was sensible. He was good at secrets. He could cope for one night.
Sirius rolled over and wrapped himself around him.
Remus squeaked.
Sirius opened his eyes and said, outraged, “You’re not my blanket. You’re Moony.” Then he laid his head on Remus’ shoulder and was gone again.
It was going to be a long night.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I'm just borrowing them.
Wordcount: 1078
Prompt: Falling leaves.
Notes: Sixth year. Sirius isn't as awake as he claims he is. Remus copes. Silly fluff.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
Remus trailed up the stairs to Gryffindor tower, listening to the wind wuther around the castle. It was late and quiet and the halls seemed vaster than usual. He paused by a window to catch his breath. Outside the leaves were whirling by, caught in the wind. The light from the corridor made them glow briefly, gold and red, before they vanished into the dark once more.
It was cold and he hunched his shoulders, pulling his robes around him more tightly. Winter was coming now, sure and steady. It seemed too long since summer, when the nights had been short.
He heard a distant whoop and heaved himself up. He wasn’t in the mood to get caught by Peeves.
The Fat Lady tutted at him as he approached. “You’re out after hours. No example for a prefect to be setting.”
“I had detention,” he said wearily. “Ziggy Stardust.”
“Detention!” the Fat Lady scolded but swung open. Remus sighed and scrambled through the portrait hole. Next time he wasn’t going to let either Lily or Sirius have any say in what the password was.
The common room was dark. He shouldn’t have been surprised - with the older students struck worst by the flu, there weren’t many people likely to have stayed up this late.
The wind howled again and he heard the flat splatter of wet leaves hitting the window. The fire hissed and spat and somebody made a snuffling noise.
Intrigued, Remus crossed over to the fireplace.
Sirius Black was asleep on the sofa. His head was flung back over the arm, one hand trailed against the floor and he had half-kicked his shoes off so they dangled from his toes. He was snoring.
Remus settled into the nearest chair and studied him. It always fascinated him how someone so full of energy and motion could sleep so peacefully. The dim firelight cast red lights in his dark hair and made his skin golden. His brows were relaxed and his lips just parted. Remus wished he had the right to reach out and trace the line of his cheek, to brush those lips with his fingertips.
He shook himself and nudged Sirius’ shoulder. “Padfoot, wake up. You’re going to hurt in the morning if you stay there.”
Sirius stirred and muttered, “Moony. Not breakfast yet.”
“It’s the middle of the night, you daft twat. Wake up.”
Sirius blinked at him. “Awake.”
“You going to move, then? You’ll ache if you don’t.”
“Shan’t. I’m flexible.”
“Sirius.”
“Remus.” He blinked again and then sat up a little. “Detention? Been gone ages.”
“It was a long and unpleasant task,” Remus said sourly.
“Dusting portraits in the Great Hall?”
Remus shook his head. “McGonagall changed her mind. Sent me to Pomfrey. Been cleaning bedpans.”
“Just for righteous hexing?” Sirius demanded indignantly. “What if you get the flu?”
“Immune system.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither’s life,” Remus said lightly, biting his lip. Sirius, outraged, with his hair on end where it had been trapped by the sofa cushions, had lifted his mood. “Why aren’t you asleep? Plotting Snape’s downfall?”
“That’s what History of Magic lessons are for. I was waiting for you.” Then he yawned enormously and Remus felt his jaw ache in sympathy.
“You didn’t have to.”
“Course I did. Going back to sleep now.”
Remus grabbed his arm and pulled. “Not on the sofa. Bed.”
“You’re a bully. Mean, prefect bully.”
“And you revert to a six-year-old when you’re not awake.”
“Am awake.” He surged up and set off towards the stairs, dragging Remus after him.
“That’s the girls’ stairs.”
“What? Bugger.” He turned round and Remus chuckled.
Sirius swung back to stare at him. Remus smiled. Sirius’ eyes narrowed. Remus waited.
“I did not fall for that. I know which stairs are which.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Did not. Going to bed now.” He headed for the stairs at a vague stumble and Remus followed at a safe distance. He had no wish to be toppled if Sirius fell asleep before he reached his bed.
When he made it into the room he found Sirius collapsed onto his own bed, feet sticking off the end.
“Budge,” he said, pushing at his shoulder.
Sirius snuffled into the pillow and grabbed an armful of blanket.
“Padfoot, that’s my bed. Budge.”
Sirius’ breathing was steadying again.
Remus eyed the three empty beds. They looked cold and shadowy. He really didn’t want to have to pick one. He had a bed and he didn’t know what was on their sheets.
“Padfoot! Move!”
Sirius turned over, kicked his shoes off and grabbed Remus’ arm, tugging him down beside him. Remus yelped and then found himself draped with sleep-addled Sirius.
“I meant to your own bed.”
Sirius cracked his eyes open and stared at him reproachfully. “It’s over there.”
“Well-observed. Why are you over here?”
“It’s too quiet. Can’t see you from there.”
“You can’t usually see me.”
“Can see someone, though.” He shoved his head into the pillow and said, muffled, “Didn’t sleep last night. Or night before.”
“Why not?”
“Too quiet. S’okay when James and Pete are here but they’re not. Kept waking up and thinking I was at - back there. Thought they’d got me back somehow.”
Remus sighed and said gently, “I was here.”
“You sleep too quietly. Kept having to get up and check.”
“We can’t share, Sirius. It’s not-” He couldn’t think of the right words. How to explain that he didn’t want him in his bed because he wanted him there too much?
Sirius was looking at him, wary and not quite pleading. “Who’s going to know?”
That was a fair point. He wasn’t sure he could argue with that.
“See,” Sirius said happily and contorted himself until he was under the blankets. “I win.” He latched onto Remus’ arm again and dropped against the pillows. Within moments, he was asleep.
Remus, who wasn’t quite sure how he had lost the argument, blinked down at him. He tried to tug his arm free. Sirius tightened his grip. With a sigh, Remus shoved his shoes off and tugged the blankets round. He was a prefect. He was sensible. He was good at secrets. He could cope for one night.
Sirius rolled over and wrapped himself around him.
Remus squeaked.
Sirius opened his eyes and said, outraged, “You’re not my blanket. You’re Moony.” Then he laid his head on Remus’ shoulder and was gone again.
It was going to be a long night.