R. J. Lupin: A Closed Book II
The full moon was only three days past, which was why Remus was even more calm and cooperative than usual; and this, pissed off Sirius more than anything. Sometimes he wished his friend would give in to his bottled up anger and hit someone, or something, or maybe even just shout, rant, anything to acknowledge his real feelings.
Sirius had given up years ago trying to directly provoke a reaction, because more often than not he was simply given a soft, sympathetic smile, a weary shake of the head and Remus would wander off to bury himself in another book; instead, after long hours of careful study and practice, Sirius had perfected the art of Annoyance: this wasn’t merely insistent, repetitive behaviour designed to drive a person to distraction, but an art-form raised far beyond childishness and entering the realms of genius - or so he claimed.
“You’ve bent the corner of that page Moony.”
Remus’ eyes flickered to the edge of the book where, true enough, a quarter inch of the corner was slightly creased; he slid one hand up the page and smoothed out the thin paper, pressing the corner with the pad of his thumb to keep it flat then returning to his reading.
“The cover of the book is slipping off Moony.”
Another flicker of his eyes, to where the thick parchment that ensconced the book was drooping minutely beneath the level of the pages, and Remus shifted in his seat, rearranging the cover so it sat straighter and once again resuming his reading.
“That cushion’s about to fall of the chair Moony.”
Without even looking up this time, Remus reached behind him and pulled out the cushion, throwing it with startling accuracy at Sirius, so that it hit him squarely in the face. With a shake of his head to dislodge the longish strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes, Remus calmly leant back and turned a page in his book, eyes skimming slowly from right to left as he tackled the confusing runes.
With a slight frown, and a brief consideration of continuing his direct attack for a little while longer to wear down Remus’ defences, Sirius swung his legs off the sofa where he was sprawled and, resting his elbows on his knees, called across the room to James. Time for reinforcements; and the dreaded side attack.
Looking up from where he was struggling with a long Transfiguration essay, James grinned, threw down his quill and bounded over to join his co-conspirator on the sofa near Remus.
“Mate, what’s up?”
“It’s so quiet in here Prongsy; you would not believe how bored I am.” Sirius put on his very best whiney spoilt child voice, and leant his head pathetically on James’ knees, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes; of course, there wasn’t any need for it as James would willingly join in any mischief at any time, but the act was one he knew grated on Remus’ nerves.
“Well we certainly cannot have that” James replied in tones of mock indignation and leant backwards, tipping his head over the back of the sofa to survey the rest of common room, upside down.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius could see Remus’ fingers whiten slightly as his grip on the book tightened, but his eyes continued to trace across the runes and he made no move to interrupt their scheming. With a slow grin, as a plan formed in his mind, Sirius raised his head from where it was still sprawled on James’ lap and whispered in his ear, enticing a similar expression from his best friend, eyes sparkling behind his glasses.
They both leapt to their feet, drawing their wands from their pockets and nodding to each other, every movement almost exactly simultaneous. With a swift sideways glance at Remus, still occupied with his book, Sirius hurried to the far corner of the common room, James heading in the opposite direction. As was usual in moments like this, every pair of eyes in the common room watched the two Marauder’s progress, minds racing to decide just how bored they were and therefore how extreme this next prank was likely to be.
Sirius could see Remus’ shoulders tense, his head tilted slightly to one side as he tried to concentrate on what he and James were going to do, while at same time appearing to remain interested in his book. It was a very subtle shift in posture, but one that Sirius had become rather adept at noticing.
He winked at James, who grinned in return and they both brandished their wands, pointing them towards the ceiling and shouting ‘Procella tempestas’. There was a soft whoosh of air, the lamps flickered briefly and everyone in the common room fell silent, gazes focussed intently upwards.
With a satisfied smirk, Sirius produced a bright pink umbrella from the end of his wand and James followed suit with a gaudy floral one of his own. The faint clicks as they put the umbrellas up resounded through the tense silence and Sirius watched as Remus moved his attention from the ceiling to the umbrellas, his eyes narrowing and his mouth tightening as he fought against a smile.
James and Sirius may be brilliant at conjuring up their own spells, but Remus had a flourishing natural aptitude for languages, greatly assisted by how well he knew his best friends, which meant he knew exactly what was coming next.
Remus snapped his book shut, just as the burst of thunder rolled around the room, drawing shrieks and laughter from the other occupants, and Sirius was faintly annoyed when he didn’t even flinch at the sound; instead he rose quickly to his feet, tucking the book underneath his cardigan to protect it from the fat raindrops that were now showering down upon them all.
Sidestepping a group of second year girls who were hurrying, shrieking, across the common room, Remus made his way sedately to the staircase leading to their dormitory, shaking his head but unable to prevent the grin that broke through; it was, after all, a rather impressive piece of magic, he had to admit.
Sirius stared after his friend’s retreating form, absently twirling the umbrella above his head and oblivious to the commotion around him. James tugged at his arm, trying to attract his attention back to the spectacular effect their prank had produced on the occupants of the common room, not realising that the only occupant Sirius was worried about had already left and had barely acknowledged their spell beyond mild disapproval; of course, Sirius had not noticed the fond smile on Remus’ face as he ascended the stairs, which is exactly what Remus had wanted.
Shaking off James’ insistent pull on his arm, Sirius vanished the conjured umbrella with an unnecessary flourish, that would certainly have caused Remus to roll his eyes in exasperated amusement if he had been there to see it, and hurried up the stairs to their dormitory.
Remus was crouched by his bed, rummaging through his drawers for something-or-other that Sirius doesn’t really care about, but seized upon as a reasonable excuse to start up a conversation.
“Lost something?” Sirius leant against one of the bedposts at the foot or Remus’ bed, crossing his arms over his chest in only slightly forced nonchalance.
“I thought maybe your marbles had somehow found their way amongst my possessions, as they are clearly no longer in yours.” Raising his eyebrows in surprise, a rather pointless venture as Remus still had his back to him. Sirius was momentarily at a loss for words, unsure once again how serious the insult was supposed to be.
As always, Remus had a knack for pitching his voice just so, that it was nearly impossible to tell how he felt, without using the myriad subtle changes in stance and expression to decipher the meaning beneath his words.
Just as Sirius had thought of a suitable comeback, Remus straightened up and turned to him, with a faint smile hovering on his lips; “I trust you’ve also come up with a spell that will de-saturate the common room after that impressive display of magic just now.”
Somehow Remus could be derisive even when he was complimenting you.
Letting out a low, exasperated groan, Sirius threw himself down on the nearest bed, toed off his shoes and scooted back until his shoulders rested on the headboard. Folding his arms over his chest, he fixed his friend with a steady look. “That’s not exactly the important thing right now Remus.”
“There’s something more important than seeking another bout of admiration for your magical talent?”
“Remus, just sit down will you?”
The faint smirk dropped from Remus’ expression and he sank down onto the foot of the bed, curling one leg underneath him, leaning forward slightly to get a better look at Sirius and seeing the frustration that was evident in his voice written plainly across his face.
Remus pitched his voice lower, calmer, more serious and caught the flash of relief in his friend’s eyes that he had understood that now was not a time for jests. “What’s the matter?”
Tightening his hands into fists, Sirius stared resolutely at the blanket he was sprawled across, apparently fascinated with the burgundy weave and gave a lopsided half-shrug.
“It’s…I don’t know. Something, but I can’t…find the right words. Or not. I don’t know.” He gave another one-shoulder shrug, fidgeting as he felt Remus’ eyes boring into him, cracking his knuckles uneasily with short snaps that echoed in the silence.
Realising that he was unlikely to get anything more coherent out of the young man without a lot of coaxing, Remus shifted into a more comfortable position and quickly scanned his internal list of Things That Upset Teenage Boys - a list he had carefully constructed over the years for those awkward time ones of the other Marauder’s approached him for advice, a thing they continued to do even though he rarely gave helpful advice if the problem wasn’t work related.
“So it’s not a problem with work then?” The faint snort from the other end of the bed affirmed his immediate suspicion, and he moved on to the next item. “Family issues?” This was a fairly safe bet the majority of the time Sirius was upset by something, but the boy shook his head, gaze still fixed firmly downwards.
Remus coughed. “If it’s girl troubles you came to entirely the wrong Marauder mate.”
“No. Not a girl. Not at all.”
Something in the way Sirius pronounced these words caught Remus’ attention and he abandoned the rest of his mental list to probe deeper into this particular intrigue. “Really? Unless I’m mistaken, you’re wearing your ‘crossed in love’ face.”
He had intended to inject a little light humour into the situation, pull Sirius out of this sudden onset brooding mood that he seemed to be in, but somehow this completely backfired: Sirius shot him a dark look of mingled anger and fear that made him wince. Immediately, seeing how Remus flinched back, Sirius’ features softened and he pushed away from the headboard, coming to sit cross-legged in the centre of the bed.
“I’m sorry Moony.” One hand twitched as if he intended to reach out towards him, but then both his hands were suddenly clasped tightly in his lap and his whole body seemed rigid with tension.
“I…” Sirius seemed genuinely lost for words, which jarred Remus’ thoughts more than any amount of anger the young man could throw at him. He felt suddenly helpless, out of his depth and far beyond his own knowledge. Minor problems he could handle, drawing on the experience he had gathered from his friends, but there was rarely any original advice he could dispense in these matters.
Remus hadn’t exactly lived a sheltered life; spending so much time with James and Sirius it was practically impossible to have done so. However, there had always been a limit to how involved he let himself get and those long summer months out of school he knew the other Marauders would continue their fine traditions of trouble-making, whilst he would read and study, or occasionally work when he got the chance.
More to the point, though Sirius was trying to deny it, the problem was definitely a relationship issue and he was by far the least experienced of the four. Not that he had never had thoughts along those lines; it was just far more complicated than Remus wanted to deal with at the moment. Even more complicated than for the others.
He had no idea what possessed him to do it, but on an impulse Remus leant forward and pulled Sirius close to him in an awkward hug, trying to ignore the chin pressing into his neck and Sirius’ knee in his chest.
There was a silent pause and Remus could feel his friend’s body tense in his arms, but then with a shuddering sigh - that could almost have been a stifled sob from anyone else - Sirius relaxed into the embrace, shifting so their limbs were more comfortably held against each other.
“You’re a big softy, you know that Remus?”
Remus gave a faint laugh, his breath hot in the crook of Sirius’ neck and tightened his hold minutely. “I know.”
Sirius made a noise, more than a sigh, a mumble that could almost have been ‘thank-you’.